tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57168102314171589482024-03-14T06:29:43.997-07:00Damien's SpellBookCONFESSIONS OF A SCARLET WITCHONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-17844872822631622192011-01-31T11:53:00.000-08:002011-01-31T11:53:53.679-08:00SCARLET WITCH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="color: white;"><u>Marvel Definition</u>:</span> <em><span style="color: red;">The Scarlet Witch</span></em> is an omega level <span style="color: white;">mutant</span> who has the ability to manipulate probability via her "hexes" (often manifesting physically as "hex spheres" or "hex bolts"). These hexes are relatively short range, and are limited to her line of sight, requiring her presence or knowledge of her subjects.<br />
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<span style="color: red;">The Scarlet Witch's</span> power to alter reality was spawned from the combination of her natural mutant abilities to affect probability and Chaos Magic. Because of the nature of her powers, she does not possess limitations such as other reality warpers. Her powers which stemmed out from the ability to manipulate probabilities suggest that she does not need existing matter to warp reality, only possibilities... which are endless.<br />
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After years of serving as a Hero, the chaotic and limitless nature of her powers took a terrible toll on her psyche. No longer able to distinguish between reality and her own adverse manipulation, she suffered a mental breakdown that tore the fabric of time and space resulting in an alternate universe of her own design.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-WGpmAPPZhFzuZE9_sD_sdEwKa_eR6E-M6K3dX0BaGah3efQqx92EbyjsrMXnh9QeRQdrROLxuiOEco8jTuKW0AJ8_zymQtz9YQsRSVCJj2svZjUNGmS2gnWIXH3dkPnETLs9C1GqNQ/s1600/blog+4.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ONIX</span>- <u>Personal Definition</u>: Internet author of Homosexual Erotica since 1999. Professional Writer and Concept Consultant. General Laborer. Reluctant Philosopher. Occasional Stripper. Amateur Bodybuilder. Personal Trainer. Hopeless Romantic. Social Butterfly. Brooding Loner. Armchair Intellectual. Repentant Sinner. Knight in Shinning Armor. Incredible Hulk. Dark Phoenix. Student of Metaphysics. World Traveler. Habitual Narcissist <br />
The Author would never call himself a <span style="color: red;">Witch</span>.... However, he would never disagree with someone who accused him of being one.<br />
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</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-16995699247618120722011-01-31T11:50:00.000-08:002011-02-01T05:18:12.478-08:00BMOC #6: Sloth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…Drake Clung desperately to the dresser, and looked at his sweaty, panic strained face in the mirror…</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">”oh god…” he pleaded.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Please help me.”</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…“The Good Lord only helps those who help themselves…” A voice purred sarcastically from the bed behind him… </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…“So your lazy ass is out of luck...” Drake spun in terror to find Damien quietly observing him from the nearby bed. “Is there anything I can do?”</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">BLACK MAGE ON CAMPUS VI: Sloth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">{For those of you who are fans of my work let me first say sorry to keep you waiting so long, for anyone who hasn’t been exposed to my style or stories let me suggest that you read the BMOC series, all archived here, <u>onixstories.blogspot.com</u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is my own personal Archive. It lists the entire series chronologically, contains some info on myself, a character guide, a selection of my favorite lines, and some insight into magical thinking… Please stop by and check it out… I intend to use it to also edit and “FIX” some of my previous work. The Site is a good way to get in touch with the author, give feedback, suggest story ideas or just ask general questions. <u>onixstories.blogspot.com</u>)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, before trudging into the elaborate and pretentious plots that I wrap my deviant, perverse, gay, fantasy porn in, a quick recap: Damien Vaughn, (our hero-villain) has cast a spell on some frat boys and after making most of them porn stars in a hell of their own design, he’s been driven quite mad. Along the way he has run into his Ex from my first series: Gino, His angelic sister: Alyssa, an old friend from college: Drake, and a sinister Doctor who is half slave trader half mad scientist, all while playing auntie Mame to Peter, the weak willed protagonist who started the whole problem…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There has been a few disasters at a masquerade, lives wrecked, secrets revealed and an explosion at a nightclub… (Because writing free Porn has no production cost)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">And so … I give you….</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">CHAPTER: 1</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa Vaughn Was in hell.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her brightly colored floral sun dress was draped over the fresh cut lawn of Croix Crux’s expanse garden. She knelt delicately in the soil of the herb garden and quietly and methodically pulled any interloping weeds from the flower bed. She wore a floppy white sun hat that matched her immaculately clean apron. Her golden hair hung like a halo around her as she hummed tunelessly. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She always found comfort and tranquility here. When she was a child this was her territory. Damien had the library, Medea and Granny ruled the kitchen and Roxanna was usually occupying one of the bedrooms. The Garden was Alyssa’s. She tended it and cared for it like it was her child. Here, amidst, the rosemary, lilac and mint she felt like she was truly a witch. She knew a hundred different uses for foxglove, a number of poultices made from sage and several interesting potions that used cinnamon. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This is where she hid from Damien, from the boys who chased after her or from any unpleasant thought that might have wormed its way into her sweet little head.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She clicked her tongue irritably and pulled another dandelion from the row of tarragon. Today she sat in the sun and contemplated her hell.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It had been weeks since the party at Croix crux. Damien was missing. Leo was missing. Four other guys had also been reported missing and several others had abruptly dumped their girlfriends. The police were now involved and were investigating them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was not unfamiliar territory for the Vaughn’s. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien had his fair share of red and blue cab rides home, as did Roxanna and Medea. Granny would be knitting by the window, see the cruiser pull up and mumble, “Hmmmm is it Saturday night already?” <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa could deal with the cops. That was a no brainer, most of town knew to tread carefully around the Vaughn’s… and she could always just flirt her way safe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The real problem was Damien.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had become a Demon or something very close to it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was one thing to be a witch with a bad attitude, terrorize munchkins… torment farm girls over a pair of shoes… but Damien had escalated far from that. It would have been so much more convenient if her brother had been possessed. That’s an easy fix. A priest, a cross, incense and boom! Cured! No, the only thing possessing Damien right now was himself. He had come here… home… to try and bind his unruly powers but the binding spell didn’t seem to be working…and the spell he had cast on the frat boys was corrupting him like acid. Years of bottled up rage were now freed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No remorse.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No pity. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And frighteningly, no limits. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa shivered at the memory of the costume ball. As often happened, the weather in the garden mirrored her mood. The once sunny day was now starting to cloud over with a grey solitude and the wind picked up. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She tried to hum and weed herself calm but was forestalled by the approach of footsteps. She didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. “You’re early Drake. Our appointment isn’t until 2.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake Harrington stood sweating by the garden gate in a polo and dress slacks. The polo stretched handsomely over his broad but stocky frame. His shaggy brown hair was matted to his face. “What are you doing?” he asked incredulously. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Gardening.” She replied happily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re gardening now?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes… it’s difficult to do in the dark.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Alyssa!” he snapped impatiently.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What are we going to do?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,” she said putting a white-gloved finger to her mouth in thought… “The perennials are going to have to go in soon and I think that raspberry bush needs to be trimmed.” Her Contemplation broke with a wide grin, “But my Apple tree looks like it’s going to bare some very useful Fruit.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“JESUS CHRIST ALLY!” Drake yelled. The stocky muscular frame shook with irritation. “Our friends are missing. We had a party that practically got people killed, and the police are coming here to question us in ten minutes!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, about that.” She scrunched her little button nose, “I hadn’t really thought of that.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“JESUS CHRIST!” Drake swore, and pounded his ham fists against the white picket fence of the garden.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Language, Drake.” Alyssa chided “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain. It’s low class.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uhm…. Am I early?” asked a sad apologetic voice. Peter slinked onto the garden path. His usually immaculate express attire was disheveled. His glasses were askew. His clothes looked slept in and his neat little gay boy Faux Hawk was a mess. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Speaking of low class…” he grunted giving peter a sour look, “No the cops aren’t here yet.” Drake answered, not even turning around.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t even know why I have to be here.” Peter whined, “I just want to be left alone.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Me too!” Drake roared in toddler like rage. “None of this is my business. I just want to pretend like it never happened.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa gave him a steady measuring look as she removed her gloves. “Typical Drake; ignore the problem and hope it goes away.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake stared at her, “Fuck you.” He then turned to leave. The words had just escaped his lips when he was snagged by a nearby kudzu vine and fell right into a thorny rosebush. “AHHH!!! Damn! Damn!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally sniffed, “Sorry Drake. My Garden doesn’t like profanity. I did warn you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He got up brushing the thorns from his clothes, “It was just an accident.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure it was.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter was growing increasingly anxious. The rabbit was not interested in being near the horrible house in the distance any longer then he had to. He blurted out “What are we going to do about him?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The Cop?” Ally asked, “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll take of that.” Her eyes sparkled. Her hair gleamed. Her smile promised nothing but sincerity and sweetness enough to soothe even the most savage of beasts. This was the traditional Vaughn Weapon; Feminine wiles.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter’s head shook violently, “No not him. DAMIEN! What are we going to do about him?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Falling house.” Drake mumbled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“… Bucket of Water seems derivative.” Ally mused.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Look, I’m not joking.” Peter Warned. “He’s dangerous.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“My brother is struggling with a personal demon which I trust he…or I will eventually exorcise.” Ally said shrugging off his concern. “That’s family business.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Demon?” Peter asked. “Is that the thing in the mirror?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally spun eyes wide with alarm. “WHAT!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The rabbit shuffled his feet, “You haven’t noticed? When he… When he looks in mirrors there is this weird black stuff. He seems to be really scared of it…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa Vaughn grabbed Peter with such force that the slight boy chirped in pain. “Something in a mirror! He’s been using Mirror magic!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“OH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” Drake said kicking over a pail of soil. “WHO FUCKING CARES!” A nearby spruce suddenly got so windswept that it struck him clean in the face. He quietly fumed. “Demons, mirrors, Abra-Ca-what-ever! This world of war craft bullshit is getting really old.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I thought it was a demon… black magic…” Ally whispered. Her voice, for the first seemed small…and afraid. “If he’s been using mirror magic…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter was suddenly interested. Seeing an opportunity to learn, he pried further. “Why is that worse.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s fairy magic.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“ Huh?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fairy magic. Big difference. Real Powerful, oh…my… and mirror magic is the worst kind.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa regained her composure and answered darkly, “There is a really good reason that the Wicked Queen in Snow White was such a Royal Bitch. We are in trouble.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“At the Party…” Peter choked almost ready to cry. “He did something to me.” He gave Drake a guilty look. Drake avoided his gaze refusing to acknowledge the thought. “It was so cruel… and it wasn’t like him… it was so bad… I just ran away…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alyssa peered over her tulips and looked at the poor young man. He looked more timid than usual. He seemed lost and haunted, “Peter are you doing ok? You don’t…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just as she was about to reach out to him the sirens blared up the long driveway. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They’re playing your family’s song.” Drake muttered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The cruiser rolled up swiftly. Only one patrol men exited. He was tall and athletic. He was maybe early 30’s.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A very well kept 30. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He strutted toward them with the rolling gait of both a fine-tuned warrior’s alertness and a police officer’s lazy confidence. He had a high-and-tight flat top and was sporting a 5 o’clock shadow, beneath his mirrored sun glasses. His shoulders stretched the tight blue uniform but tapered down into a tight and compact waist.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">There were no doughnuts in this man’s diet. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His heavy forearms grazed against the tight blue pants that stretched around thick thighs. His blunt masculine features betrayed no emotion.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Aww shit…” Drake whimpered and turned eight different shades of red. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s Officer Sloan Gudock.” Drake said running an anxious hand through his mop of unruly hair. “He was my Brother Morgan’s partner… before he died…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allysa’s perpetual smile froze, “Oh shit.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Morgan Harrington had been a cop. All of the Harrington’s were…except Drake… Morgan Harrington had been Alyssa’s brother in-law… before he died…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Alright kids. I have some questions for you.” He surveyed the 3 college kids. “I think it would be best if we separate you all- so I can get some real answers.” The voice was level, gruff and commanding. Officer Gudock betrayed no expression on his granite face.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is that really necessary officer?” Ally asked with her most demure, and coquettish voice, “We’re not under arrest.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not yet.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally didn’t let his stonewall attitude phase her-inner enchanted Martha Stewart, “Why don’t you come into the garden and have some tea, I’m sure we’ll all be more comfortable.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The officer tipped his glasses to reveal two cruel brown eyes that were filled with disgust. “I didn’t come up to this fucking haunted house to have tea with you delinquents. I want some answers and I want them now…” He surveyed the three friends, resting his agitated gaze on Drake. “I thought you at least would have the good sense to stay away from these Vaughn Bitches… considering what happened to your brother.” The three college students remained silent under the authoritarian gaze. “And why are there only three of you? The Report says that pansy ass brother of yours was present at the party and HE is also wanted for questioning in regards to an explosion at some fag bar in the city”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally recovered quickly. She began to back-peddle, spreading sugar and honey over every syllable she uttered, “OH! Damien’s not available… he’s..”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Out of the country...” Drake offered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Just as Peter lied, “…He’s really sick.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Cut the bullshit. I want all four of you… one of you had better call Damien Vaughn.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thunder rolled from the bottom of the long driveway, a rolling thunder that came closer and closer. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The noise grew to a roaring howl and suddenly a purple and chrome Harley rounded the last curve. Damien, dressed in black riding leathers with electric blue stitching, rode the machine like he was born to do it. His jet black hair was spiked high over a clean shaven, alabaster face. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He stepped off the bike with a triumphant smirk. The license plate read “BROOM”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You called?” Damien asked archly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You know there are helmet laws in this state.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien gave him a mocking grin, “Did you know that racecar spelled backwards spells racecar? Now we both learned something today.” His big muscled body stretched the leather riding suit, making it creak as he stalked toward Ally. “All back together again I see,” He waved extravagantly, “At the scene of the crime.” His aquiline features gave his expression an elegant malevolence. If someone had to be the villain, Damien certainly had the bone structure for it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m warning you Damien…” Allysandra whispered to her brother.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His smile froze and became as cold as January, “Good, because that’s ALL you can do.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How did you do that?” The officer asked with suspicion, gazing at the bigger man. His voice held a barely audible Basso-Profondo note of fear.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Do what?” The Broom riding witch asked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Just show up, when I said your name… were you fucking casing this meeting?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien gave him a look of innocent confusion, “You called my name… I know traditionally you have to do it three times or backwards … but I wasn’t all that busy.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The man In Blue stewed. Sloan Gudock was able to yell emphatically, without losing enough control to raise his voice. He spoke firmly with no room for disagreement. “I want to know what went on here that night!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So ask.” Damien said just as firmly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Officer advanced on the muscular biker, “I see you’ve been on the juice Damien.” He accused disgustedly. “Doesn’t surprise me. You queers always do.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He got right up into Damien’s Face. The Cop was proving that he wasn’t going to be intimidated. He was going to intimidate. “What other drugs you into huh? You come up here with all those college kids and give them your gay party drugs?” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His concrete face betrayed none of the contempt that his voice dripped. He was a blank canvas of absolute control. “I’ve never done any drugs so I don’t know. Tell me what kind of drug would make two boys act like dogs for two days? What kind of drug would make three honor students totally disappear? What kind of drug would make a star quarterback e-mail his parents to say he was going away to find himself for 3 YEARS!? Huh? PCP? LSD? Acid?” Gudock Advanced. His heavy jaw was getting close enough to Damien’s jaw to spit in his mouth. Towards the end of his speech his voice had turned to angry gravel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The three students stood silent.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien offered flippantly but honestly, “Would you believe magic?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That was the straw that broke the stone camel’s back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He grabbed Damien. “Listen here you punk…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien recoiled from the approaching officer. Not from the threat of violence, but from his reflection in the cops mirrored sunglasses. He shrank back like he had been burned with a hot ember. “Take off those glasses…” He hissed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s it, you’re under arrest for obstruction of…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I SAID TAKE THEM OFF!!!” The mirrored Glasses flew off of Sloan’s face as if they were swatted by an unseen hand. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Officer Gudock fell backwards, but never once lost his stance. “What the fuck?” He yelled and then quickly pulled his side arm.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien recovered his composure. He acknowledged the aimed and ready pistol. “You homo-Sapiens and your Guns. Put it down. It’ll only irritate me.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sloan straightened and lowered his weapon, “You know growing up in this town, I heard all the ghost stories about this fucking house and you Vaughn’s. But I never believed it … not even when that slut Medea killed my partner…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally retreated hastily into the recess of her garden. Peter and Drake both quickly followed suit and hurried out of the line of fire.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien positively sizzled with eldritch fire, “What did you just say?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If you ask me,” the brown-eyed, physical specimen of blue shielded justice spat, “They should take each and every one of you… down to the clock tower… and throw you off… just like your sister.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Blue fire enveloped everything for the briefest moment.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“DAMIEN! NO!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien waved his hands in a wide sweeping arc. Officer Gudock froze like a statue, his eyes suddenly wide with paralyzed horror. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Demon advanced on him like a stalking cat, “Now let me tell you a scary story Officer…” his voice could freeze lava, “Once upon a time… There was fine upstanding paragon of civic virtue. A true model of the young responsible man. He kept fit. Ran. Worked out religiously. Watched his nutrition like a hawk and always pushed himself for the joy of hard work.” Damien caressed the width of his prisoner’s back as he circled him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“He loved his girlfriend, defended his home and held every other man he met to his rigid standards of behavior and attitude.” Damien droned methodically. Sloan’s eyes had been open for so long now without blinking that a tear leaked down his sculpted jaw.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Demon allowed for a dramatic pause then gave the cops broad blue polyester covered ass a heavy swat, making the manly ass meat shake. His voice took a note of giddy pleasure when he said next, “BUT the scary part was that was all a bad trip!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Sloan whimpered in terror.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The witch laughed hysterically, “You see this tweaked-out roided-up prostitute had done way too much blow and was surfing a low between his tina fix … and had just imagined all that.” He grabbed Gudock’s Chin and looked the cop directly in the eye.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He was on the way to have his vain, slutty ass gang-raped for money. For money that his drug addicted nymphomaniac fag ass fucking needed to get his fix… when… BOOM!” Damien clapped his hands like thunder. “HE thinks he’s this cop. Officer Gooduck… but that wasn’t his fucking name… He wasn’t a cop!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damien reached out and pinched Sloan’s cheek. “Sure he knew the inside of a cop car, because he had been in trouble with the law, ALOT. He’d even sucked a bunch of hard leaky cop schlong to get out of trouble…but being some hard nose choir boy…ha… that was his worst nightmare.” His eyes flickered, a seductive and malicious blue. “Good thing it was just a bad trip …”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien turned his back on Sloan and finished the spell, “He shook of the fall-out and just hopped in his car and got going to that gang-bang party.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“THE END.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silence descended with the setting sun, behind the frozen tableau. Officer Goduck stared blankly at Damien as the three suspects hovered horrified nearby. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The silence stretched for what seemed months before suddenly Officer Gudock’s handsome face broke into a wide cadaverous grin of utter wild joy. It was a face alight with zeal but his eyes were panicked and disbelieving. He turned swiftly and headed toward his squad car, without a word.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally sprung up, on frantic legs from her garden, chasing the cop. “Officer Goduck …Officer Goduck?” She yelled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He didn’t even turn.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He opened his car door and sat puppet-like behind the wheel. Ally rushed to the window. “Officer Goduck, You should come back and maybe rest for a…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The handsome face gave her a toothy Dudley-Do-Right grin of pure exultant torture, “My name is Officer Good Cock!” He told her happily. “I’ve got a pnp rager to go to.” He parroted, nodding happily. His face was stretched into a mannequin’s grimace of idiotic elation. His terrified eyes however did not match the cartoonish bliss of his twisted smile.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He started the engine and drove off… without blinking once.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally, white linen skirt billowing behind her, watched as the police cruiser descended down the driveway and into the forest below. She turned toward her brother. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His smile was devious. His grin of malevolent glee would put the joker to shame. “What have you done?” She wailed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His Grin grew broader and he began a horse hysterical giggle, “Oh Ally, I do so love to watch you get your vestal virgin panties in a bunch.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rage boiled beneath the princesses, “You’re worse than Medea. You’re MAD!’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Furious, actually…” The grin became vulpine.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ally screamed in fury. She charged toward him, her tiny porcelain fists balled in anger. “You’re torturing people. And causing destruction EVERYWHERE you go! You blew up a bar?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I smashed a big window to a Rhianna song… lucky it wasn’t Rammestien… might have taken out a whole city block…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something else the officer had said was nagging her, ”Damien, where is Leo?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I Sent Him To Hell.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her eyes were leaking tears of frustration. “Please let me help you… It’s gone too far this time.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>…The Demon looked at his fragile, terrified, little sister …</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…and the man gave her a sad smile, “I’m sorry Ally. I’ve runaway again…” He whispered wistfully. “…And this time I’m not coming back.”…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suddenly they were teenagers and he was crawling out his bedroom window again… and leaving her behind. He had done that to her at least 4 times in high school, disappeared in the night, only to show up months later. Every time she would beg him not to leave her. He promised to always come back… and he never once ran away forever…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sobbed a hard dry spasm of loss. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien was close enough to look her in the eye. “Don’t mourn me, Glinda. No one mourns the Wicked.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She nodded a sad defeated acknowledgment. “I know…” She swung her fist and clapped him across the temple. “Give my regards to our sister.” She spat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien only nursed his wound for a second before reaching out with brutal force and grasped her neck, “You little bitch…” He spat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suddenly Peter and Drake where there: lunging at Damien like Swat Officers. Drake planked him in the chest and Peter rolled his legs out from under him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally dropped to the ground coughing. Peter grabbed Drake and rolled him away from Damien. Peter the rabbit uncharacteristically stood up and defended the fallen frat boy. The demon regained his feet just as quickly. He curled into a defensive stance and sat like a waiting panther. His eyes locked on Ally. “This is family business boys.” He smacked his hands together and both Drake and Peter crumpled to the ground groaning in pain. “Stay out of it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Be Gone Demon.” Ally announced as she retreated into the confines of her garden. She pointed violently at her brother. Suddenly the rose covered terrace behind him came alive like a living thing that had been released from a cage. It writhed and squirmed, eventually lashing out with thorn covered vines to ensnare Damien. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thorn scratches covered his face and hands, as he tried to untangle himself from the Vines’ sharp grip. He wrestled with them madly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ally watched him struggle and curse, while she caught her breath, “You just stay there until I can figure out how to help you…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Her entire outburst had been a ruse to get him into the garden. He had chased her right into a trap that she had been setting. She allowed herself a moments’ satisfaction to watch the demon snarl and drool with fury. His protest created a frenzy beneath the hold of the unrelenting vegetation. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">It had worked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">… until unexpectedly he became stoic and calm.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He froze in the foliage.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The foliage froze with him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His smile echoed the darkest frost of winter… and that frost began to form all over the surrounding garden. Frigid air blew from every direction. Knives of ice and desolation quilted every living thing around him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plants withered around him like brush in a nuclear holocaust. They died at his touch and broke brittle and parched to the ground.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally gasped in horror. “MY GARDEN!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Demonic eyes regarded her beneath bleeding brows, “Mary Mary quite contrary… how does your garden grow…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stood up and stepped towards her, murder in his eyes. His sister didn’t even notice. She was busy surveying the destruction, “…you killed my garden…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His face became suddenly jovial again. He was a smiling clown with a fantastic joke. “OH Ally I couldn’t hurt you… you’re my sister!” He assured her. His tone was mocking and overly affectionate. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His eyes tightened and in a more familiar malicious mono-tone he added, “But I’m not above taking hostages.” Drake and Peter rose from behind him, into the air. They levitated a foot from the ground and were held in shackles of air.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake had a look of supreme panic. Peter was resolute and dejected.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You two really should have done what you wanted, and minded your own business. You should have done what your pathetic apathetic nature demands: NOTHING!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BUT NO! You boys were such good little knights in shining armor for my sister.” Damien cooed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That should be rewarded.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Damien…” Drake stalled in a shaking voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Demon leaned toward the shorter athlete. His lips were close and familiar. They brushed gently against Drake’s cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid… You were rock hard during my little speech to the cop. You were turned on so bad you started to sweat.” Damien’s hand rested heavily on Drake’s pec. “Like your sweating now…” He rubbed the swell and expanse of Drake’s broad chest, “Poor little frat boy…. Locked in a closet…I can Free you.” He whispered, “No more anxiety. No more fear. Just pure unrestrained appetite. Like me…” He chortled cruelly, “FREE.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And you.” he motioned to peter, “You’re shaking from fear and… expectation.” Damien rolled his eyes dismissively “And partly out of force of habit.” He surveyed them both, “You want this more than he does. Pathetic…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stepped back and they both fell to the ground. “Go boys… be free… be the masters of your own fate… in fact: Be the master of EACH other’s fate.” His smile became a Cheshire cat’s grin, “though I imagine only one of you will end the night …the master.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Both shaking men stood in bewildered tremors, unable to contemplate what to do next.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well… RUN!” Damien commanded.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They sprinted trembling toward Drake’s car, not looking back once at the woman in the garden; the girl they had left to a demon’s mercy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien turned to his sister with an arched eye-brow. He remounted his bike and revved the ignition, “I’m Free, little witch and I won’t let you get in my way.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Dainty cherubic face of the effervescent and charming Ally Vaughn evaporated like Air. “I saw what happened with that cop.” She said ominously. “You were afraid of the mirrors. Silly little fairy has been playing with mirror magic.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You just called me a fairy.” He answered in an insulted voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You meddled with reflections. You’re a Vaughn. You forced a mirror to show you what you wanted to see...and now you can’t stand them… because they show you what you’ve become. I don’t have to stop you. The mirror will first.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t put your faith in folklore, Allysandra. I’m a bit more powerful than a sliver of glass.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He kicked away the kickstand on his bike and yelled back to her, “Don’t get in my way again Ally or I’ll see to it you get to be in that garden forever…” Alyssa felt a sharp viscous pain in her palm and screamed. Growing from the center of her hand was a single, angry rosebud that had erupted directly from her skin in blood and warning.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her brother roared off down the hill, leaving Ally in the darkening gloom of her garden. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose…” she whispered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Croix Crux rose up against the setting sun like a tombstone and its shadow lay heavy on Ally’s slumping shoulders. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She fell to her knees and began to sob.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She must have been crying for a good long time, because it was almost dark when she noticed the large stranger coming up the path. She brushed her tears away and made an effort to smooth her hair. When she stood she only came up to the stranger’s chest. She looked up with red rimmed doe eyes, into a face so handsome, it could have been carved out of seductive marble. “Are You Allysandra Vaughn?” He asked in a sultry voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some people might have been shocked with how quickly she rallied her spirits but it was a famous saying amongst the Vaughn family, “You either get about the business of living or get about the business of dying… and tears won’t make either transaction easier.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Involuntarily she batted her eye lashes and flirted back, “People call me Ally.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I was wondering if you could help me…” He said uncomfortably.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll try.” She squeaked, ever the girl-scout.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need to ask you a few questions… about your brother …Damien.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She stepped back and all her flirtation melted into apprehension, “What?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The big guy now seemed suddenly shy and unconfident, “He was my… we were… Damien was a friend of mine.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally looked up into the big green eyes brimming with tension, desperation and concern. The handsome face looked so hopeful and inquisitive. The man’s hands had started to ever-so-subtly shake.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It all became clear to her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“SO,” She breathed with exasperation, “That’s what this is all about…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…The Police cruiser tore through the small town of Remington. Inside it, the Officer’s heart beat rapidly out of control and he dripped sweat like a faucet. White knuckled hands gripped the wheel for dear life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My name is Sloan Gudock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My name is Sloan Gudock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now just say it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Say my name is Sloan Gudock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My Name is Officer GOOD COCK!” He yelled triumphantly at the top of his big lungs.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh god…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh god…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked down at his navy blue pants and only saw a great expanse of orange fake tanned thigh. Big engorged quads led into bloated calves that were devoid of hair. His legs had always been covered in a thick grass of black hair… these puffy distended thighs were the color of a brown melon. He knew that they were spray tanned and bronzed by a lovingly narcissistic hand. His pants were now vinyl blue hot pants that left a ridiculous bulge in his lap. His crouch looked like a distended fruit bowl. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With a shaky hand he untied the lace string that held the skimpy plastic panties together. His dick sprung out like a happy jack-in-the-box. A thick cockring encircled its hairless base. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His pubes were gone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His fucking pubes were…. Oh shit his smooth balls felt like silk… mmm… silky balls…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He fondled his clean shaved sack lovingly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“MMMM… I love my silky slut-nuts.” He hollered to know one. He groped lewdly at his exposed genitals, one big paw all the way in his groin, tossing his junk like dice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fuck what’s happening to me…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The buttons on his uniform shirt burst opened. His pec’s swelled like balloons until he had to readjust his arms around their massive exaggerated size. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh fuck my…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“MY Big Fucking Roid TITS!!!” He Hollered again, like a tweaker in heaven.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The cruiser zoomed past a dude mowing his lawn. He leaned out the window and announced, “I GOT BIG JUICEY MUSCLE TITS!” The guy jumped in shock then threw him the finger. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He turned his eyes back to the road, “Oh he wants to lick on these big roid jugs,” he assured himself. He moved his hand to pull on his huge right-tit ring.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nipple ring? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh shit…I don’t have…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Shit it was so hard to think…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Have to think… Need to think…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He ran his trembling hand through his hair in frustration. His flat top was gone… What the fuck was this… He yanked at the base of his neck and pulled loose a rubber band. Wavy black tendrils descended onto his shoulders. Over processed, wet silky strands of dark hair. His stylist who was also his meth dealer said the body wave made him look like Tarzan. He tweaked his big low hanging nipple, thinking of how hot his long stripper hair looked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>OH SHIT!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gotta calm my nerves… calm my nerves.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Instinctively, he fumbled into the glove compartment. He pushed aside a used needle and a broken vial of Deca and found his prize. Yeah this will calm me down. Calm me down good. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He brought the glass pipe to his lips and fired it up, breathing in the heady taste of chemical. He felt the familiar rush of energy and sexuality. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">So sweet. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Fuck yeah. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He shook his greasy mane and rubbed his throbbing cock between the girth of his huge carroty quads, trapping his dick between the smooth oily muscles and giggling like a school girl.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m Officer Good Cock.” He said in a relaxed… compliant purr.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The small Costume shirt was cutting of the circulation to his big old Juiced up guns. His tiny little patent leather boots pumped the gas as he idled at a stop light. He was so horny and excited. He was gonna score some heavy cash from this trick, and then he was gonna score heavy. He had already been up for three days and the thought of coming down made him want to scream.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“AHHH I WANNA GET TOKED!” He yelled excitedly as his big body humped the air.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In the car next to him two high school boys in letter men jackets watched him clench his jaw and tweak. He gave them his big fuck-my-ass smile and then gave them a big double bi shot of his water retaining arms. He pulled his engorged right arm down to display the tattoo of the word “Juicy”. It encircled his exaggerated Bicep peak.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They gave him an awkward thumbs up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He laughed and showed them his big tied up cock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He waved his hairless orange joy stick at them with an eager smile. “Wanna taste my cherry picker?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They were shocked and horrified… speeding away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He laughed harder and took another hit from his pipe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The taste of smoky acid decimated all his memories of his girlfriend… of his commitment to the law… his entire life blew away in a cloud of smoke.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damn he needed some cigarettes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He pulled into a gas station and got out of his car.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gone was the Police cruiser. It was replaced by officer Good Cock’s flashy Camaro. His big muscled thighs rubbed together bunching the vinyl shorts into the crack of his bulging ass cheeks. Thick round ass meat bounced behind him as he sauntered toward to the gas station. His oiled and shaven legs were on display from his booties to his tiny slut shorts.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Good Cock’s big sweaty Chest muscles protruded in front of him like masculine watermelons. He strutted with the cocky slutty arrogance of a true tweaked out muscle queen. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Eww… the soft silky pouch felt good rolling between his thighs.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The tight shirt made his ape like arms hang akimbo to his shoulders. His unnatural Lat spread was clearly on display. The muddy umber skin glowed under the gas station lights.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He caught his reflection in the mirror. His thick romance novel tresses framed an angel’s face. Thin from the tina, but gaunt and handsome despite the steroid pounds. He was thirty pounds heavier but his cheek bones and jaw couldn’t look more defined. His big lips were colored red from lip gloss. They were encircled by a sleazy pencil thin goatee that made him seem all the more oily with sexuality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked ridiculous. And he was mother fucking proud of it. Chest pumped out, butt bouncing side to side and his oily curls blowing like a porn star, he entered the store. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">CHAPTER 2</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake Harrington’s Chevrolet Sedan Rocketed through the Streets of Remington.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What are we going to do?” Peter practically screamed from the passenger seat. His face was in hysterics, emoting poorly contained panic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake sat quietly breathing heavy from his own fear, next to him. His eyes were locked on the road not even registering the guy having the hissy fit beside him. He calmed himself and steadied himself, “We’ll go back to my place and call Ally to make sure she’s okay.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“OH shit!” Peter whined reaching another decibel, “We left Ally all by herself!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Calm down.” Drake said quietly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We can’t just leave her there.” Peter said and then quickly returned to type by adding, “Can we?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake considered his options for a minute. His heart raced and he tried to find the easiest solution. “I know exactly what to do!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake made a sharp turn into a parking lot, causing his sensible sedan to vibrate erratically. Peter sucked in his breath and said a silent prayer. He thought Drake had decided to turn around and go back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was wrong.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake slammed the Chevrolet Sedan into park and jumped out of the car, leaving his unwanted passenger in confused silence. Peter was about to loosen his seatbelt and follow, when he noticed that Drake was talking excitedly into his Cell Phone. He hung up and got back into the quiet automobile. “Who’d you call?” Peter asked exasperated, “Ghostbusters?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake breathed deep and steadied his nerves, “No asshole. I called my Father.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake clenched his jaw, “My dad is the chief of police. I told him that Damien was a danger to himself and others, and that officer Gudock had gone missing.” Drake felt the soothing relief of putting the problem in someone else’s hands, “The police have an APB out on a purple motorcycle and are going to take him into custody.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter stared at Drake’s self-satisfied face in dumbstruck disbelief. “DID YOU NOT PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT HAPPENED BACK THERE!!!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake recoiled, “The police can deal with it.” He answered stupidly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>“I bet. I hope they send the entire force.” Peter squeaked. “By midnight they’ll be 30 new profiles on manhunt.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“This isn’t our problem.” That was Drake returning to type. Ignore it and it will go away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They sat in remorseful silence as the car pulled out of the parking lot and back on to the streets of Remington. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter looked out the window, troubled. “Yes it is.” He whispered. “We started this. Us. You and your Frat brothers…and me.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake was quiet as he navigated back toward the dorms, “Yeah.” He whispered back, “Well there’s nothing we can do about it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Silence descended. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Guilty silence.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter broke it by asking, “Your Dad’s the chief of police?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter mused, “No wonder you are in the closet.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,” Drake barked angrily, “What’s your Dad do, run a florist shop?” He asked appraising Peter’s frail 5’6 form, effeminate features and slight shoulders.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Silence descended again. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake began to regret the insult. He wasn’t by nature a bully but there was just something about Peter’s submissive demeanor that brought it out in everyone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He was an Army recruiter… I grew up an army brat.” Peter confessed. The shame of never fulfilling the obvious expectations of the admission was clear on his dejected face. “So I kind of know how you feel.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Cop’s son felt an involuntary surge of disgust at having anything in common with the weak boy next to him. He rallied to rebuff him. “Your Dad was in the army. Ha! He must have been so thrilled with you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The insult stung Peter, “That was really immature.” He pointed out.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yeah, like you are sooooo mature!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Both men felt it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Something in the pit of their stomach’s clenched. Vertigo swept over them for the purest fraction of a second.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter responded in a measured and confident tone, ”I’m not the one who went running to daddy to fix my problems.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Shuddup.” Drake responded.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter acknowledged his childishness and attempted to amend the statement. “It’s perfectly natural. Most latent Homosexual men have a variety of Father Issues.” He explained with clarity. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake, seized by his own insecurities, swerved the car left and right, wildly letting his feelings dictate the wheel. “YOU shuddup. Or I’m throwing you out of MY car! It’s my car and I don’t have to let you be in it” He yelled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You’re acting like a spoiled brat!” Peter yelled, “Calm Down and keep your eyes on the road!” He demanded in a now even prissier and condescending tone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Christ,” Drake sighed exasperatedly, “Could you at least MAN-UP, for once?” Peter’s effeminate mannerisms had never really irritated Drake, he saw them as a sign of insecurity, but now it was working his last frazzled nerve. “It sucks trying to escape with a whiney bitch!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Man up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter gave the spoiled Wasp Brat a dark look. “Fine.” He retorted, folding his big arms over his chest. He shifted his weight uncomfortably in his seat. His long thighs were bunched against the console. Drake was just sitting their quietly freaking out and obeying every traffic law, while inside he was completely loosing it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Uptight-yuppie-bastard. “How bout you for once loosening up?” Peter jabbed back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Without even pausing, Drake gave the steering wheel the head butt he was begging to do. “FINE!” HE roared. He clawed at his polo and undid a couple of buttons. He let his polite, reserved up-bringing slip aside as his terror and excitement took over. “We’re fucked. A Vaughn’s spell never fails and knowing how perverted Damien’s become we’re gonna end up sucking cock in a trailer park!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete squirmed uncomfortably. His big elbow bumped awkwardly into the passenger’s side window. “How can we tell if it’s happening?” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How the fuck should I know.” Drake yelled letting his adrenaline pump him up to a excited fit. It was like how he got amped before a game. “You’ve got more experience in this terrain then me. How should we attack this problem?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Find high ground, fortify our position and then defend the perimeter until reinforcements arrive.” Peter said firmly out of reflex. His voice sounded assured and robotic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wow.” Drake replied, “You are not such a weakling after all.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I’m no Weakling.” He corrected. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He knew he was right. He wasn’t a pussy. Drake was being a pussy. He was the one whining… and fussing… and not finding a real solution. “You’re being a weakling.” HE said with conviction. Drake was spoiled and self indulgent. Sure Pete might be gay but he didn’t throw a fit when he wasn’t getting his way. But jeez his face did look hot when it was all excited with emotion like that.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake kept himself quiet after the bigger man insulted him. He was breathing heavy and upset. He should try and calm down. He looked over tentatively at Pete’s bigger frame, which was stuffed uncomfortably into his passenger side. “You know you can put the seat back if you need to.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wait…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete’s bigger frame? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was Pete always so big? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was Big… like 6’8 and well fed. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He looked almost comical crouched into the side of the car. Drake found a new found respect for Pete, blossoming in his mind. He was acting like a real man for once. He nailed him with a quick fake punch the way he would applaud a teammate. “Wow man! In the face of adversity you really Straighten-up.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete readjusted the raging hard on beneath the tight canvas of his Levi denim.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dammit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake could be such a flamer sometimes. Sure he was in the closet, and he was in a frat, and shit, but get him to relax and suddenly everything was gay and straight… not who’s gonna get to suck my cock? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Labels were for fags.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like this kid… look at his big pecs stuffed into that polo and the tight khaki’s showing off the big stocky ass. He might blend in, but he was pretty metro. Shit, why couldn’t gay guys be more… more like Pete? Just a regular man’s men. Six pack and a slim jim kinda guys who…. “OH SHIT.” Pete swore in irritation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?” Drake squeaked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s happening already.” Pete explained. He knew that something about him and Drake was changing. He could feel Damien’s meddling, but he couldn’t put his finger on how they had changed or what the catalyst was. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake laughed raucously almost hysterically, “No man. I don’t think so. I think everything seems fine.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well then your stupider then you look.” Pete said and rolled his eyes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Why was Pete being so mean? Oh shit stop sign. Brake.... Switch gear, drive… yeah pete was being…oh another stop…. Shit forgot to break. Oh shit… ran the sign is that bad? Is there a cop… there was a hot cop at that house they were just at… he was really… shit missed another stop sign. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fucking Shit drake!” Pete yelled. “You’re going to get us killed! Pull into that gas station! I’m driving.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fine.” Drake said. “Just stop yelling at me ya fucking Drill Sergeant!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete pulled at the collar of his deep green camo jacket. He gave the stuck-up rich boy a dirty sneer before adjusting the worn and tattered “Army” ball cap on his skull. “Go get me some smokes while we’re here.” He ordered. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They pulled into the gas station, right behind a fire red Camaro and a purple motorcycle. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake thought real hard about what that meant… but he was just too relieved to get away from Pete.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Inside the store he fumbled with his wallet trying to concentrate on how many different bills he had and which ones he would need to buy Pete his… aw shit wait was he supposed to buy…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Cigarettes!” Drake barked happily to himself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He trotted toward the counter… he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge of infantile joy…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">”EWWW Candy!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He gazed at the array of candy on display. Sour Patch kids… Snickers…”Ewwww.. M&M’s”… He was literally a kid in a candy store. His slowly moving cognitive thought lurched as he packed his hands full of brightly colored wrappers… wait… did he have enough money for both smokes and candy? He began the slow process of addition. It was hindered by the fact that his hands were full and his fingers would have been useful to count on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You look a little confused buddy.” An oily voice from behind him slurred.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m fine thanks.” Drake said, turning to the voice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah… you sure are.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake turned, dropped his candy in shock and looked full into the face of sexual temptation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A man about 220lbs of ripped fatless muscle arched his big chest toward him. He was wearing some stripper’s police costume and had a fake badge hanging from a nipple ring. The badge read “Officer Good Cock.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Growing up in a family of straight laced cops… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake immediately sprung a boner.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The bodybuilder was obviously high as a kite. He was smacking his lips and rolling his tongue like a total zombie. His eyes were frantic and his pupils were so dilated he could probably see the future.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His big pec’s twitched up and down as he eyed Drake like water in the desert. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You like what you see faggot?” The dude rumbled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I …er… I…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Sex pig grabbed Drake’s timid hand and pressed it against the taunt confining vinyl of his hot ass. He started to vibrate his ass cheeks rudely while he giggled in a frenzied masculine hum. “Yeah… I know a closet case when I see one… Act all straight but can’t wait to get your flamer tongue in between a man’s sweaty cheeks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I am not a flamer.” Drake screeched in denial.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Maybe not,” The muscle slut agreed. He put a forward hand on Drake’s rigid crouch. “But I bet you’re a good puppy …that likes his licks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake felt his whole buddy responded in eager playful sexuality. They must have looked like too total faggots. Two crazy fucking homo’s in a gas station. People where staring and whispering. For the first time in his life, he didn’t give a damn. If he had a tail it would be wagging. He grabbed the whore’s own obscenely displayed junk in response.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m going to this party tonight. You can follow me.” The Stripper offered. He winked lewdly, turned with his hands on his tight waist, and sauntered out.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Outside Pete had gotten tired of waiting and was walking toward the store when a big shadow erupted into his view. He turned toward a large man in bike leathers. “Nice truck.” The man said.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter thought he should know this man. “I don’t have a truck.” Pete answered. He looked back at Drake’s car …</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…but it was gone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was replaced by a big White FordF1-50, with raised tires and a trailer hitch. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">That wasn’t his truck. He didn’t have a truck. Pete scoped out the vehicle cautiously and caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the big tinted windows. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trucks’ wheels were giant! They propped it up like a monster truck, but even though the height of the vehicle was absurd… he could see his reflection.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He wasn’t standing on anything.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He was tall.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Really tall.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…Peter had always been slight, a runt of the litter. But now… he looked down at the huge towering frame that stretched toward the distant asphalt. Long legs extended beneath a pelvic bone that rested almost where his shoulders used to. He touched one ship sized mast with a trembling hand. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His hand was HUGE! They were easily the size of a dinner plate. He spread the branch like fingers wide in amazement. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His breathing quickened and he could feel the massive refrigerator sized chest cavity expand and contract with effort. His abdomen swelled like a giant air-mattress.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Pete swung his head up and looked at his reflection, astonished. The expression of shock looked foreign on the strangers face. The face in the window didn’t look like one that was easily overwhelmed or ever taken by surprise. It was a face that had seen it all and wasn’t impressed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter’s face had always been angular and feminine, slight and identifiably too pretty for a man. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">This stranger had huge features that were as bold and blunt as the Ozarks. A wide Jaw jutted beneath the rise of tense, expressionless lips. A nose that seemed more like a bridge contracted of timber dissected two big eyes the hazy brown color of dusty roads. A spider web of crow’s feet erupted from those eyes, frown lines traveled the length of the hard mouth, and there were deep trenches in the furrow of his brow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Giant’s long expanse of forehead stretched up to meet a tightly cropped plateau of salt and paper hair, Cut in the perfect marine style. The Hair looked like it had been stamped on, rather than cut.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Precise. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rigid. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There wasn’t a singular follicle out of place. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Awww.. Shiy-it.” The explanative sounded like an Ogre’s roar as it escaped the barely-moving, tight lips.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The man in the window had a hard-assed expression that broached no argument and made no excuses. A hard life and rough living had carved into his already handsome, features with a chain saw. The effect was a sculpted work of masculine beauty. He was harsh, craggy but impressive and disarming. It was all displayed on a square, boxy head, as if he were a bust on Mount Rushmore</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">This wasn’t Peter’s face. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“What have you Done, to me!?.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter’s whiney, disbelieving inflection seamed terribly at odds with the commanding bull-horn vocals that the lamp post sized throat now produced.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Impressed?” Damien asked happily. “I am! Looks like you and Drake are really getting the full service of my lil curse.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You’ve turned me into…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“No… You and Drake turned you into this… quite Oedipal if I might say… but I’m no Freud.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter moved to confront the now much smaller man, but was distracted by marveling out how much area one stride of his huge body could cover. “I’m so big…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You got it. It’s everything you always wanted. It’s a body to impress all men. A body to dominate. A trophy of a form that all men would covet and wish to steal.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The big head shook emphatically… “I didn’t want this.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Tsk Tsk… Starving of hunger and complaining of what is served.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I look like…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Your father… or the man he imagined his son would be…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">That explained the clothes. He wiggled his goliath sized foot inside the tight confines of his boots and hit the reinforcement of a steel toe. He was wearing huge Frankenstein combat boots. His casual H&M Loafers were gone. So were his stylish express pants. They were replaced by starched straight legged Levi’s that were tucked into his thick calf-high boot tops.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His Nylon American Apparel T-shirt was history.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His Tree trunk waist and house wide shoulders were covered in a faded camouflage bomber jacket. His new taunt chest was concealed by a black wife-beater that read, “Fort Dicks 2008’”… it was low cut enough to reveal his heavy coating of silver chest hair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter had been pretty hairless since puberty. This body had a forest of deep swirling grey hair. The pelt reached down to his wrists. The rug on his Baseball Bat sized forearms was thick enough to make a sweater. “This is perverse…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Everything is Perverse… depending on what you make your constant.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“NO! NO! I DON’T WANT TO BE LIKE THIS… I DON’T WANT…” his instinctive clipped military tone terrified him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Dammit ! Rabbit! You’ve been a consciences observer to your entire life. Don’t start getting motivated on me now.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter clenched one huge hand unto a ham sized fist. “I never wanted to be like this.” He thundered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I tried to tell you long ago, Magic gives you what you want. Just not the way you want it.” The demon said with finality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter’s fading resolve wavered at the logic. “But…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“But NOTHING! I’m offering you the body of a warrior. I’m offering you the gravity and strength to be the man you always wished you were. Dominant. Confidant. A real Commander. You can give orders, instead of take them.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter had stopped listening. He found himself morbidly curious at a rather interesting thought. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If his hands were this big… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">And his feet were this big… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He reached down the expanse of his thick corded waist and tentatively brushed against an organ, he had had always considered at best embarrassing. “HOLY SHIY-AT!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Ya.” Damien chuckled. “Ain’t nobody gonna argue with that.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“HOLY SHIY-AT!” Peter yelped. His mind struggled to comprehend the reality of the gigantic third leg traveling down his pants. The stone mask broke into an elated grin. The huge cannon between his legs twitched and started to inflate with need.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“And all you have to do… is what your good at… NOTHING. Just let it happen. Just stop fighting. Lay back, relax and let the spell work.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“But why?” he rumbled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You were there the night of the original curse. So was Drake. You two are on my list of things to do.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You are punishing me.” The booming voice of command accused.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien saddled up and put his hands on the Army man’s house wide chest, “Again, you think it’s all about you.” Damien brushed his hands against the firm muscle, “like I told you before… you are just a tool…” his hands swept down to the big bulge barely contained by the trousers…”Only now…you’re a really big…” his hands groped harder, “big… BIG! Tool…” Damien let his eyes wander to the windows of the store, “And you’re just the right Drill to SCREW my real target.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Peter had stopped paying attention. He was fixated on the thick hose length of his new schlong. He went wildly from caressing the biggest cock he had ever seen…to being fixated by the macho, older face in the mirror. His mind was besieged with far too much stimulation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The face looked at least 40, but dignified and manly. It was a face that had grown more potent with age. The salt and pepper hair spoke of a fine matured sexuality. His now stiff circus-sized tent pole, promised 20 extra years of carnal knowledge and experience…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Here,” The witch offered him a cigarette… “Have a smoke and consider it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I don’t smoke.” Pete said as robotically took the offered smoke, and lit it reflexively with his Army Bic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The smoke billowed into his massive lungs…warm familiar….relaxing…intoxicating…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He puffed out a practice cloud of grey air. He marveled at the familiar sensation as the cloud enveloped him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">A Big cloud…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His mind was clouded with possibilities… Oh man he could fuck anybody looking like this. He’d have men begging just to sniff his fucking jock strap… His Giant sized Jock-strap… specially made…military issued jock strap….</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He lazily stroked the big plum sized bulge of his cock head with a thumb. He idly played all the possibilities in his swiftly changing mind…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He puffed and watched the red glow of the cigarettes cherry.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His thoughts seemed so regimented now. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">They were orderly and compartmentalized: He was smoking. He Had Big Hands. He Had a Big Truck. His Keys were in his pocket. Years of programmed thought patterns locked into place, like the clip of a gun. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He felt the power in his body. Taunt, vascular muscle knotted over his long bones. His body was a weapon. He was a machine. His warrior’s sinewy form was a perfectly hardened and forged tool of masculine strength. His thoughts were simply mechanisms that triggered responses from the giant soldier’s body.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He knew that his thoughts had once been a jumble of ideas and concepts, daydreams and fantasies… but now they were practical, Spartan and utilitarian. His lack-a-dazical brain waves were indoctrinated with disciplined structure. In Peter’s mind’s eye, new thoughts began to march, present and salute… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His existential collegiate theories and Sci-Fi/fantasy imagination surrendered to the ambush of belligerent conformity. Years of long conditioning set up camp and fortified the parameter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Behind him Damien smiled, and quietly said, “Since you were so interested in magic my little rabbit… here’s one last spell for you… before you go…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>Choices Made, Chances lost</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Have your wish free of cost</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">No effort made, no sweat shed</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Be what you desire but who you dread</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Once, the rabbit… be now its chaser</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Shave and cut with Occam’s Razor”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Pete flashed back to awareness when he heard the last line of the spell. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Occam’s razor… the easiest answer is usually the right one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ya that sounded about right.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Hey Man, I’m sorry I don’t think I heard that… what did you say?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Biker looked up at him, with a weird smile, “I said that truck of yours looks like a real man’s ride.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete felt a rush of testosterone. He stopped his butt out with one giant boot and pushed himself closer to the built biker, “No…” He answered in a direct voice, “I bet YOU are a real man’s ride.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The biker smirked. “Maybe… but aren’t you with that stocky Frat boy?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah…” Pete responded trying to clear his mind of the sexual fog that had descended when he began to talk to this hot Biker. “We’re going somewhere… we’ve got to do something.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If I were you…” The biker said in tones that made him sound very convincing, “I would forget about it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete rubbed the whiskers on his chin… Shit where did all this facial hair come from… “I should forget about it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That ‘a boy.” The biker smiled. “Speaking of boys… here comes yours’…” Peter turned just in time to see Drake. He was following some muscle-bound prostitute out of the gas station. Drake was trailing after the oiled-up whore like a happy puppy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now if that were mine,” the Biker whispered in conversational tones, “I’d keep a tight leash on it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“DRAKE!” Pete Bellowed. “Get the fuck over here!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake gave a frustrated look at the stripper’s big ass and obediently answered the summons like a dog with his tail between his legs. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Get in the cab.” He ordered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete Gave the Biker a sly look, “You got plans tonight bro?” He said, idling up closer to the dark sexy stranger.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ha Easy Sarge…” The biker said and his eyes glinted a silvery blue.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That name… Sarge… it sounded familiar… “I have plans tonight… going to see an old friend… need to check up on him.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete shrugged and his worn camouflage jacket twisted taunt into his heavy armpits. “Suit yourself,” He hoisted himself up into the driver’s seat of the truck.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake attacked him as soon as he shut the door. “That guy invited us to a party. Can we go! Can we huh? Huh?” His big eyes were pleading and his tongue practically lolled out in excitement.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You want that sleazy piece of Fag trash?” Pete demanded.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No but…” Drake fumbled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete was tired of this coy shit. If this kid was gay he better damn well own it. “You want to watch his slut ass get plowed.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good. Be honest and say what you want. Oh...and Where are my smokes?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake tossed him a pack of Camel. “Here.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I smoke Marlboro.” Pete remonstrated.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake blushed… and started to stammer, ‘I’m sorry …It’s all the same right. Don’t be splitting hairs…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I am a professional at splitting Hairs.” He chuckled. Another part of the spell locked into place. Pete took his Barber’s bag and shoved it into the glove compartment. He roared his massive truck into gear, put his huge hand on Drake’s muscled thigh and followed the call boy to the fuck fest.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien leaned against his bike and watched the monster truck depart. “Be cautious when people feed you what you want to hear. It’s usually right before they feed you to the wolves.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He contentedly began to put on his motorcycle gloves, humming softly to himself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien Vaughn was so self-satisfied that he didn’t even notice the two police cruisers that had silently pulled up behind him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“The Chief must really want this guy in custody.” Rookie Dan Hardy told his Partner from the passenger side of the first cruiser.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Derrick Greer gave a deep grumble, “Ya that old man jumps whenever his golden-boy son is in any trouble.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Derrick Greer had been on the Remington police for years. He was a huge man. His mixed race gave him the size and weight of a black man but he was also very light skinned with Norwegian features. All the secretaries at the precinct mooned and fawned over his exotic good looks. They also liked his size. He was broad and heavily muscled and filled out his uniform expertly. He had been a Linebacker for the football team in college. Everyone had expected him to be recruited to the PRO’s after college but bad grades had landed him in a blue shield, instead.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Greer was the senior most patrolmen at the station and he made sure everyone knew it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Rookie Dan Hardy, wasn’t really his partner. He was just being given the honor of a probationary ride-a-long. Dan was fresh out of the academy and what Greer considered to baby-faced to make an effective cop. Dan was a pretty boy, with styled blonde hair and baby blue eyes. He was more interested in impressing the college girls then he was in making any arrests. He was in decent shape, nowhere near Greer’s barbarian standards, but he did workout and was trying to eliminate some of his persistent baby-fat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“This should be a pretty simple pick-up, just hang back, follow my lead and try to keep that fucker Officer Mutter away from me.” Derrick’s rumbling voice instructed. He looked in seething hatred at the cop seated in the car next to them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">They got out of their Cruiser.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">So did the other cop, Officer Mutter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">It was no secret around the squad room that Greer and Mutter couldn’t stand each other.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Dan cursed his luck. He didn’t want to get in between the personal feud.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Jesse Mutter was a tall man with a barrel chest and the some-what brawny shape of a well-fed Viking. He had shaggy blonde hair and a constant sour look on his big face. Dan had made some small talk with him, and learned very quickly, that Jesse was loud, obnoxious and a mild bigot. He was an impressively large man in girth and power. He bragged constantly that all the single women in town were beating down his door to cook him dinner. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He eyed Greer petulantly. He was obviously pissed that Officer Greer was going to take point on the arrest. Jesse wasn’t a racist per say… he was just a country boy with a total lack of charm or class. He gave Dan a condescending nod of acknowledgement. “Guess I’ll follow your lead Captain … I mean Officer Greer.” Jesse snidely whispered as he joined them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Derrick gave him a firm no nonsense look of disapproval, His rich voice resonated domination, “Keep it professional Mutter, I’d hate to see another note in your file.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Mutter rolled his eyes and shut-up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“DAMIEN VAUGHN!” Greer announced. “DAMIEN VAUGHN?! We’re here to take you into custody for questioning… you can either come willingly or we can arrest you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The big biker regarded them with a look of supreme skepticism. “You and what Army?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Officer Greer tensed, “We don’t want to use force but we will.” He warned. All three cops gave the still unresponsive man a look of impatience.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Alright, Vaughn put your hands where we can see them.” Officer Mutter finally declared.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The biker’s eyes danced insanely, “You dare to challenge me?” He yelled <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and began to wave his arms dramatically, “You’re not warriors! You’re pigs…you’re all pigs…” The perp. Raved, then he practically fell over his motorcycle in uproarious laughter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">It was fucking ridiculous.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">There was a moment of stunned disbelief. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Both large Officers looked at each other and then back to the crazy Perp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Derrick Greer gave him a stern glare “Listen, we can do this the easy way or the hard WEEEEEEEEEEEE!” His threat was interrupted as his deep commanding voice broke into a ear splitting squeal. A look of surprise crossed his blunt face and he rallied to control himself, “the hard WEEEEEEEEEE!” he squealed again. Amazement and dismay were clear in his wide terrified eyes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Greer didn’t have any time to collect himself further. He felt an intense surge in his butt, like a crazy hyper itch. He ran his big football carrying hands over the expanse of his rump. He began to whimper in response to the insane hunger in his alert rectum.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His asshole was going wild with stimulation. His legs bucked and his whole body vibrated.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Derrick Greer threw himself on the hood of his cruiser. He spread his hands and legs wide. He presented his brutish bubble butt up and started to swivel it agitatedly. The polyester of his issued blue pants stretched lewdly as he shook his big booty. “OH fuck…Fuck… Fuck…” His deep baritone of authority and masculinity was now replaced with a high-pitched effeminate wail. He squealed and squeaked with his silly tone. The former linebackers’ huge body and shrill voice had a very distinct Mike Tyson quality. He paused his gyrations long enough to rip open his powder blue shirt and discard it. His muscled torso and wide Pec’s dripped sweat and he began fondling his mocha nipples like a bitch in heat. “Oh fuck… oh …fuck…” The radical change in the tenor of his voice was now matched by a more sensuous face. His eyelashes were longer. His nose a little more refined. His lips more lush and his high cheek bones rose luxuriously. It was the same face only…pretty… intoxicatingly so. He looked like he was perpetually puckering up for some unseen camera. “Oh shit… oh fuck… my ass is on fire!” he chirped.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Jesse “Bubba” Mutter couldn’t take it anymore; “Yeah man…yeah man…” he snorted. He saddled up behind his fellow officer and pushed him down again. Jesse’s ragged blonde hair became more ragged and disheveled. His big blue-collar body seemed to distort underneath his uniform. He let out low guttural grunt and the buttons on his dress shirt burst open to reveal an even wider gut. His clean shaven face began to grow a thick blonde beard. It sprouted from his eye line to his big barrel chest. Jesse’s big Viking mustache hid every feature except for his hungry lips. He now had a big maw that he was currently licking in mad frustration. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Oh yeah man… oh yeah man.” He took two of his big bear hands and ripped down Officer Greer’s pants. He revealed the impressive arc of Greer’s suddenly uncontrollable ass and Gluteus. With a frantic roar he pulled down Officer Greer’s briefs. “Gonna eat that hot hole out…gonna eat it all up… yeah man.” He shoved his bearded face deep into the cleft of his superior officer’s butt cheeks. Jesse “Bubba” Mutter slurped at Greer’s hole in a sex-crazed frenzy. His big white face felt right at home eating out the big mocha ass. His hands tugged fanatically at the two hoops that now adorned his hairy chest. His whole body now looked like a Chia Pet made out of straw. Thick greasy blonde hair erupted from every pore. It bristled hard and wiry, like a pelt. He grunted and snorted as his beefy face ate out the dank and masculine butt. He looked exactly like a pig going to slop. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Greer was squealing incoherently. His face was pressed against the Police car’s hood and his eyes were rolled up at the back of his head. The dark muscles of his large triceps strained, as he tried to remain standing under the erotic and relentless assault. Officer Greer was mortified but couldn’t stop his obnoxious cries for even one second…in fact he found himself shrieking, “Eat my big ass oh yeah…get that hole wet and sloppy…yeah,….fuck…..fuck… eat me raw!” he oinked happily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Rookie Dan Hardy stared in horror at the appalling scene. He was literally stunned. He turned toward the perp. And started to say, “What have you done to…ugh…” He dropped his weapon as he fell forward, clutching at his suddenly cramping groin… “Oh fuck…” He groaned. He anxiously undid his belt to determine the source of the pain… A giant Prince Albert glinted maniacally from the crown of his young cock. “what…?” He noticed strands of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. He reached up to check his perfectly styled, gelled hair… and came back with a handful of blonde tresses. His scalp was smooth to the touch and the head gleamed with a bright shine. His head was now shaved and polished, like a bowling ball. Poor Rookie Hardy was so frightened that the jewelry decorated cock leaked piss all over his uniform. “Fuck yeah” he snorted. His cock got rigid from the hot piss on his thighs and the acrid smell. “Fuck yeah.” His body tensed in an orgasm that reached from his head to his toes. His baby-fat melted into corded vascular muscle that stretched taunt over his bones. Deep cuts and the crystal definition, indicative of prison muscle choked every inch of his body. “Oi…fuck…” He began to lewdly wank his cock at the site of his mates going at it like pigs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pumped his Tonker, and dripped warm piss all over his big thick soled dock Martens. His tight leather pants creaked when he strutted toward his pornographic buddies. His wifebeater rode up over his burgeoning beer belly as he approached, revealing his perfectly shaved body. He tugged at his wide bracers, lazily letting his pierced cock flop obscenely. He called to the other pigs, “OI! we can’t be goin and getting nasty wit out any quid!” He snarled.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Oh Fuck… oh fuck…oh sweet fuck.” Officer Greer kept mewling. Officer Mutter kept right on butt munching and yanking on his furry tits. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“GEAR! MOTOR! We gotta get back ta the pen and set up the Webcam ‘fore dat escort gets der!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He crowed angrily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Ass devouring bear kept his snout rooted in his one-time rival, digging furtively for truffles. His Bossy competitor continued to degradingly fuss and twitch like a hog going to slaughter. Both, Officers were happier than pigs in shit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“MOTOR!” Harley Called again, “I said SUWEE!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Motor reluctantly took his beefy face out of his buddy’s hot cheeks. Drool and ass-juice slid down his tousled blonde beard, “Right. Fuck right.” He put both bear paws on Gear’s round curved flesh giving it a rough squeeze, making Gear screech in his childlike voice. Motor stood up and adjusted the heavy Leather Harness that restrained his brawny shoulders and hirsute frame. The big Bear struggled with his Leather Jeans which were an awkward choice for a man whose thighs were considerable and covered in hair. He adjusted his carpeted bulk and reluctantly moved away from his meal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gear stood up and his super sexual face pouted. He grabbed motor by the long beard and brought him into a forceful soggy kiss. Gear savored the big bear’s mouth, pulling away and trilling, “My Ass tastes so good!”. He slid a hand down and absently fingered his lubed and primed orifice. “Ah fuck guys. I was just about to cum!” He whined, diddling his ass lips harder. His strapping football player’s body was left totally bare except for a pair of ass-less leather chaps that left his insatiable greedy bubble-butt exposed to the world. The combination of his imposing brawn and his infantile intonation made it impossible to take him seriously. He swaggered arrogantly toward the other two pigs, looking for all the world like a big butch leather daddy… until he opened his mouth, “You guys gotta pwomise ta give me some deep dicken ta’night and not just the escort… Are you listening to me?” He bellyached, “HARLEY! Ya’ Hear me?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Harley turned toward him, “No’body likes a fuckin needy bottom. Yeah I heard ya! Right! Shut your twat mouf and get on your hog!” Harley jumped on his own motorcycle and finished with, “Your piggy gobbler’ll get stuffed. Ya Damn powa’ bottom.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Fuck yeah!” Greer squeaked and got on his bike.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Webcast is set for 10.” Motor reminded them, as all three men shrugged on their Leather jackets and started their Hogs. “And I told my barber he could stop by and watch in person.” He snorted a few guttural chuckles, “He likes too watch.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“OI SWINE! Let’s get hoofin’ shows almost bout ta start.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three Jackets had the red stitching moniker of their website, that the three men ran, “SEXXX-Pygs.com”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The witch sat motionless, watching the three pigs and three hogs ride off into the night.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His expression was completely unreadable.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He began to laugh.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sniggering started off innocently enough but eventually crescendoed into raving laughter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Pigs…ha…pigs…” Damien giggled to himself. He’d turned them into pigs…”Hahahahaha…” he continued chortling. He turned toward the dark window enclosed Gas Station.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“HA HA I called them pigs… and fucking …and then they turned into...HAHAHAHA.” His laughter echoed in the lonely night. Tortured merriment reverberated off the now deserted store. The empty store reflected the entire parking lot with its darkened glass walls.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien wiped a hysterical tear from his eye and realized in horror that he could clearly see himself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Demon moved quickly to shield his eyes from the sight of his reflection… but instead started laughing harder.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He looked into the reflective surface of the window and smiled an other-worldly grin of menace. He looked full into the face of what he had become. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">It didn’t frighten him at all anymore. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The laughter cascaded further and further until he was half screaming in feral amusement. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The darkness that had been haunting his reflection was gone. Damien laughed as he realized that he wasn’t afraid of the thing in the mirror anymore because… he WAS the thing in the mirror now.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The dark parking lot rang with one last roar of reckless amused abandon and then he was gone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All Wicked Witches resort to cackling, at the end.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">CHAPTER 3</span></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete pulled the big truck into a parking space. They were in a deserted Trailer Park on the outside of town. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This seemed oddly familiar, but neither man could remember why. Drake was confused, “I thought we were following that stripper.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I knew where the whore was heading so I took a short cut.” He explained as he jumped out of the Cab.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake followed him hastily, “But wait… how did you…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete rounded on the smaller man with a steel gaze. “Since when did you get so damn chatty? Zip it and do as you’re told.” The look he gave Drake was heart stopping. It said: you are nothing. It said: you are flawed, you have no value. It said: You are less than an animal. Perhaps you may be a pet or perhaps you may be prey… and the choice is not yours.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake quailed at the big man. His addled brain was screaming at him that something was drastically wrong, but he followed the hulking giant into the Trailer anyway.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The entire trailer was a Play-room. There were a couple of couches, a mini-fridge, and three mattresses on the floor. It could definitely make the cover of “serial killer Home and Garden.” Several Webcams were amateurishly hung around the room.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Three Leather men stood in a circle around a computer desk, taking hits from a bottle of poppers. The biggest was a mocha colored titan of muscle in assless Chaps. The Second was a huge hairy bear that looked like an albino lion. The guy seated at the computer, who was obviously in charge, looked like an extra from “American history X”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s Alarm rose 20 points and his head swam.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“What do we got here?” Pete thundered, “Three little pigs?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The three Leather men turned to the new arrival. All three grinned broadly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“OI!” The little skinhead agreed and gave him a sneer, “guess that makes you the big bad Wolf.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Spell clicked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The magic Locked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pete stepped forward and offered his huge hand to Harley, “Peter Wolf. Most everybody just calls me Wolf.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“More the merrier bro!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The pigs laughed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Motor put a big hairy blonde hand on Wolf’s shoulder, “I told you he was a cool guy.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ya,” Harley nodded, “Our Mate Motor here says you runs a real fine shop in the city. He says he loves going there before he hits the bathhouses.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He told us you’re hung like a Clydesdale, too!” Gear twittered with his helium octaves. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake stumbled away from the bizarre nonsensical scene. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">What was going on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wolf knew these guys? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Wait a minute who was wolf? Was Pete named Wolf? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wait was Peter named Pete…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Looks like your boy’s a little confused.” Harley observed, pointing at Drake.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wolf gave him a stern glance, “You know how kids are… too damned horny to think straight.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s thoughts got even more jumbled and now his cock was aching. He was so confused. He was so horny. He was so confused. He was so horny. Above all else though… he was scared.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His panic was interrupted however by the arrival of the tweaked out stripper. Officer good cock sauntered into the room. His exaggerated muscles glistened with a fresh coat of baby oil and his movements were jerky and flamboyant, “I heard you guys had a 911 emergency.” He garbled giddily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, attempted Rape.” Harley snarled. The three pigs wasted no time attacking their meal. Harley pounced first grabbing the stripper’s head in a rough embrace, pulling his trampy hair and kissing him hard enough to draw blood. Gear followed by excitedly removing the tight little costume and reverently worshipping his glossy muscles. Motor loomed behind the whore and gave his tits a rough paw.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Officer Good cock rolled his head in ecstacy at the attention of the three pigs that were feasting on him like a trough. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s head resounded with warning but he couldn’t keep his hands from compulsively playing with his ram rod hard cock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Strippers pin point dilated eyes caught Drake’s nervous look and stopped the feeding frenzy. Gear had stripped Good Cock down to a pair of delicate little thong panties, that hung on his waist like a hair-tie. They sparkled pink and ridiculous against the manly physique. He paraded over to the anxiously sweating young jock. “You look pretty out of place here, college boy. You look like a little lost puppy.” He stammered. The stripper reached out to tweak one of Drake’s stocky pecs…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Keep your fucking hands off of me, skank.” Drake roared.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Officer Good Cock’s face went slack and uncomprehending. He turned his intoxicated eyes toward wolf and said, “Looks like he’s not a puppy… more like a pit-bull.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“OI!” Harley agreed. “Little bruiser does remind ya of a Pit.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah pit-bull…” Motor agreed as he yanked the hot escort back toward the center of the room.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake took the opportunity to escape toward an open dor in the Trailer’s haul… it looked like it lead into a bedroom. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake hovered anxiously in the doorway not knowing if he should run or beg to fuck the stripper’s ass. His cock was so hard. His head hurt so bad. His cock was so hard. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Here, puppy!” The Stripper called. He pulled a small bag of white powder out of the sweaty pouch of his thong. He threw it at Drake’s feet. “Take a snort of that… it’ll loosen you up… like …magic.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>MAGIC</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>DAMIEN</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>OH HOLY SHIT</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake looked toward Peter. He wasn’t Peter. He was a soaring mountain of a man.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He was huge. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He was a Wolf.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Iron hair. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Hard eyes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Hard body. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He had the eyes of a wolf. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Those predatory eyes were now locked on Drake. The carnivore in Camouflage advanced on him angrily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s heart-beat thudded in his ears. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He escaped through the open bed room door and slammed it behind him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stumbled backwards into a bureau. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake Clung desperately to the dresser, and looked at his sweaty, panic strained face in the mirror…”oh god…” he pleaded, “Please help me.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“The Good Lord only helps those who help themselves…” A voice purred sarcastically from the bed behind him… “So your lazy ass is out of luck...” Drake spun in terror to find Damien quietly observing him from the nearby bed. “Is there anything I can do?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He spun to face his tormentor. “Please stop this!” Drake cried. He was almost ready to buckle under the pressure of the spell.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien’s blue eyes glinted as he languidly slid from the bed. He was wearing a wife beater and jeans. His body was pumped and alert. Drake’s already aching cock bled pre-cum from the sight.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">”Stop it?! …you’re rejecting my gift? Awww… and I went to all this trouble.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Gift?” Drake squealed as he unwillingly massaged the incessant throbbing in his crotch. “You cursed me!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Technically yes… but it seems I need to take matters into my own tentacles. You’re being surprisingly resistant. Guess that’s all the Cop blood in your veins. A nuisance really, but I am looking forward to giving you what you deserve lover-boy.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake could barely understand him. The compulsion of his hard dick was becoming a mind-blinding craving. He yelled in frustration, “We were friends and you’re turning me into a whore!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperature in the room dropped about 40 degrees, “Friends? When we were in school together and “friends”, you denied ever knowing me. You’d ignore me and only met me in secret.” Damien corrected. “Because you were afraid your Frat brothers would know you were friends with the weird fag…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake froze at the truth in the statement… “I… was young and…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damien smiled. It wasn’t comforting. “Blah blah blah… you may not be the architect of recent events… but you certainly laid the foundation.” Damien rubbed his own obviously swelling bulge, “Odd how one little choice can affect the future…” His voice dropped dramatically, “Isn’t it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake stared hungrily at the big man’s groin, wanting desperately to rip off his clothes and bath in cum. He fought valiantly against the sex crazed need, “Listen, we can help you. We can…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Damien surged forward, slid his hand down the sweaty khaki and seized the root of Drake’s engorged cock, manhandling it like a toy baseball bat. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do I look - like I need - your help?” Damien’s grip tightened and his mouth consumed Drake’s hungry lips in animal passion. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Their mouths fought and wrestled with each other. In between ragged breaths, Drake said “Peter said you couldn’t look in the mirror…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien stopped the kiss and tugged both of his “friends” nipples in a hard twist, “Not anymore…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake whined and began mindlessly humping his thighs against Damien’s heavy form.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I am the thing in the mirror…” The Demon released him with a satisfied smile and then suddenly thrust the tortured jock’s face toward the mirror, “Now we were discussing how small choices affect the future.” The desperate man in his clutches began to writhe in fear. “You chose… a long time ago, to spend a life pretending to be someone else… living a lie and staying in the closet… but what if you hadn’t? What if you couldn’t…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The captured frat boy trembled like a mouse in a cat’s claw, “You can’t change the past… time doesn’t…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Time is a theory, like relativity, the big bang and basic human decency.” The demon released him… but Drake found his tense sweaty body was unable to look away from the reflection, “Now let’s just say that instead of forcing yourself to go to the Senior Prom at 18, with whatever poor socialite with low self-esteem you found… that… your very homophobic father found your stash of internet porn…” The demon laughed loudly, “Or your brother found you hooking up with one of your dirty clandestine internet lovers…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake felt a tremor. It was slight, like the aftershock of a far away earth quake.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A fight ensued and in his rage…” Damien Paused. Drake tried to scream. “…They threw you out of the house.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A tidal wave of emptiness collapsed onto Drake’s mind. His conscious was shattered by wave after wave of years slipping away. Drake felt himself being swept away leaving only fragmented ruins of his identity behind to guide him. He knew he went to college. That he was in a frat, that he graduated high school and that his parents never found out… but it was like knowing a stranger from far away…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Blue light began to illuminate the dark bedroom, as the witch’s eyes burned and his voice brutally continued, “Now tell me pup… what happened next…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">This is where the parallel universe attacked. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possibilities are endless. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">One day you take the bus instead of drive and BOOM! A whole new reality is created. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">All the possibilities of all the possible choices Drake could have made in his life, spread before him, reflected in the depths of the mirror. Go to TSU instead of Remington… play the piano instead of football… watch the smurfs instead of Teenage mutant ninja turtles. Eat the apple instead of the orange… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The mirror reflected the infinite variations on the course his life could have taken. So many choices… so many possibilities…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien crooned behind him, “I can Trance…I can trance… I can transform ya!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Alternate realities entwined with ours, riding like parasites waiting to find a chance to exist. One such reality was so close that Drake could see it in the mirror. It took everything that had happened to Peter and to him… and began to take form…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I…er…I…joined the army.” Drake stammered in horror. The figure in the mirror rippled… A young Drake…clean faced and lean… a sharp military buzz cut and fatigues stared back. The eyes were big and impressionable with an anxious obvious uncertainty. More than athletic, the boy in the mirror was a mass produced weapon. The fatigues and lean body created the vestige of a dully forged tool of modern conformity and regiment. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The reflection was thankfully all that had changed. He was still wearing his polo…still 23 not 18, still himself. He was the man he woke-up being this morning.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The witch smiled, and the mirror rippled. “Of course you did. Nowhere to go. No family to turn to. You did what most young men would do…. And feeling alone and abandoned… robbed of the father figure you so desperately wanted to please… You met…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake struggled to resist, but the memories of a new and different world assaulted him. His throat croaked, “I met Drill Sergeant Peter Wolf.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And you two closet cases hit it off right from the start. It was Brokeback Mountain, only in fatigues.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Parasite universes circling around our own like vultures waiting for a chance to strike… the boy in the mirror found stability in the service, found a place to hide from himself and found a man who he could please. “You two formed quite the Bro-mance…” They met during basic and Wolf took him under his wing immediately. It only took about three weeks before drake was secretly blowing the imposing officer. Night after night of escaping the barracks to lay naked with the manly Senior officer, were suddenly remembered… Both men were keeping silent about their regular play dates, because Wolf was deep in a military required abstinence… until he met Horny, lonely young Drake… who wanted nothing more to please him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Wolf made sure I always followed him, wherever he was stationed… He really took care of me…”The boy in the mirror smiled exultantly. The grey eyes were beaming with admiration. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">No!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is wrong! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“This is all an illusion.” The Frat boy disagreed. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The demon’s eyes narrowed irritably, “True, it’s all an illusion… aren’t you clever.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The recruit in the mirror frowned. “That is until… you believe it.”His own disembodied voice mocked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t deserve this!” screamed at his reflection, having one of his typical red faced fits.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Your right,” the mage behind him agreed… “You deserve much worse… see Drake,” Damien whispered vindictively, “All those meaningless internet hook-ups… all those guys who thought you might be interested in a little more than sex…while you hid in the closet of your FRAT house? Well, all those disappointments create a lot of negative energy… energy that I’m funneling… right into you! Quite the Power Keg, really. Speaking of Power Kegs… tell me about Sergeant Wolf and Power …”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Lifting.” He answered in an uncontrollable burst.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Power lifting.” Drake stammered. “While we were stationed in Germany he got me into Strength competitions …” Drake’s lipped trembled in disgust, but continued on of their own accord, “World’s Strongest Man type training…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien’s eyes practically twinkled, “And that close to East Germany…I’m sure he was able to find you just the right kind of supplements.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake struggled to stay silent. He fought angrily until his whole body shook and he erupted the word “HGH” his body convulsed, “Cattle Hormoooooone.ssss…AHHH!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His pants split right down the middle. The collar of his polo tore and stretched. His torso quivered with tremors that expanded his once trim 190lb frame. His thighs vibrated with muscle and fat that distended the split pants like elephant legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His ass literally exploded from the confines of his briefs. Hours of Dead lifts, Leg presses, and Power Squats poured into the once taunt athletic rear end. The bull sized ass cheeks reverberated with chubby strength and absurd masculine size.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“OHHH GODDDDDD” Drake groaned in revulsion. His already broad shoulders swelled to ridiculous proportions, heavy with the weight of shrugging tires, hurling boulders and hauling cars. Long hours of Pumping Iron began to inflate his small frame. His neck disappeared into nothingness as his traps ballooned to ape-like proportions. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake had a big chest to begin with…now his chest was the size of a roof. His polo fell in tatters around him, revealing an impossible expanse of awkward weight. The giant blocks of his huge pecs were covered in heavy flesh leaving his nipples dangling at least a foot away from his torso. His arms were bloated and looked more like thick legs then biceps.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Blach!!’ He let out a thunderous belch and the waist line of his khaki’s split under the pressure of his distending cannonball gut. Thick, wide Ab Muscles expanded around a rotund but cast iron belly of impressive strength, “no, no,no,…” Drake gurgled as he tried clumsily to hold back the girth of his power-lifters’ abdomen. His thick uncooperative arms hindered the attempt. The sheer size of his chest made the act comical.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His face swelled. The jowls of his cheeks broadened and the preppy, boy-next-door good looks submerged into a meaty face that was heavy with weight and brute strength. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Puh-leeze!!” His voice sounded different. The added weight of his now ridiculous size made him talk slower and with more difficulty. “Puh-leeze” He had gone from 5’8 and 190lbs to 5’8 and 250 in a matter of minutes. Men this size were normally referred to as “sparkplugs” or “fireplugs”. Drake was now roughly the size of a very compact “fire-truck”. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dark eyes regarded him coldly, “Ask not for pity from Dark Phoenix my love, She knows not the meaning of the word. …” Damien gave the huge bestial ass a heavy flesh shaking swat, “This was the perfect Hobby for such a lazy guy. Lots of heavy lifting, sure… but lots and lots of eating and lots and lots of resting… bodybuilding would be too much work for someone with your unreliable motivation level… Yes, the perfect hobby for you…that is until…” Damien paused…letting the alternate reality redirect it’s course yet again… strangling Drake with its force and suffocating his resistance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake was too busy gawking in nausea at his ruined body to catch himself before he said, “I Got dishonorably discharged for having controlled substances on base…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Oh god. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Humiliation and shame of being forced out of the army swept over him. The terrible dishonor of being disgraced and rejected again… his rotund cheeks blushed scarlet and tears of embarrassment streamed down the wide mug.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good thing Sergeant Wolf had just retired, and was eager to keep you by his side…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s cavernous chest bulked with a half controlled sob, “Yeah thank god for Wolf…wait…no…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Where’d you two end-up anyway?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“In the city, an old marine buddy of his had a tattoo shop…and wolf set up shop as a…”drake fumbled…”a..er…a”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien’s smile was practically super-natural “A barber.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake’s Mop of preppy hair swept up<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to short peaks that dissected his head. A spikey three inch Mohawk crowned the barbarian head. Handsome auburn was tinted angry black with unnatural toxic blonde- bleached out tips. The sides of his shiny skull glinted cruelly from a clean shaven head. The raptor’s quill ran from window’s peak to neck. Big, black muttonchops formed on his beefy jaws. Thick swatches of black beard that hooked around his chubby cheeks and met his pudgy mouth, like big furry triangles…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Of fuck…” the former frat boy swore as he futilely groped at the punky crest, his over grown shoulders confined his movements to toddler like flailing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Behind him, eyes glowing… blue light refracting from his every pore, Damien marveled at his own work… “Damn Drake… how many people did you piss off… While you were on the “DL”? This is one hell of a rush…” The witch continued to fuel his magic with all the animosity of Drake’s covert lovers… Licks of sapphire fire played across his hands… all the harnessed energy of the men Drake had fucked, forgot and called faggot later… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The mutated Frat boy groaned as the alternate possibility of his life’s course took firm hold. His stubby neck lurched closer to the mirror. His eyes locked with the gruesome image.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His big eyes were transfixed in a deep trance. They expressed nothing but empty thought as he began to drone on; a marionette pulled by the thug in the mirror… “Closet… Wolf had been in the closet so long… that when we got out…he had so many things he wanted to try…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pain hot and ready shot up from his groin and other parts of his body. Sharp needles of cold agony darted into his flesh. The image in the mirror and the boy in the bedroom both screamed. The demon savored the moment, “So many years in the closet… with only the internet to guide his lust… I’m sure that kind of repression would generate quite a wide variety of perversions… and f-e-t-i-s-h-e-s….”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Silver.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Glints…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Metal. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">All over his face.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It had started out simple enough… just a tongue ring… that Drake could hide. Wolf has only asked him to do it because he had read that it would feel hot against his cock, when Drake gave him one of his many daily blow-jobs. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His tongue shot out in pain, a sterling ball in the center.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>…then it was earrings… to make him look more like a city boy… blend in… be more urban. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two shiny silver hoops pricked into the lobes of his ears…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…but then Wolf had a taste for it… told Drake it reminded him of stories he had read on the internet… How hot he thought it was that Drake wanted to please him… Wolf was so hot for him every time he would come home from the piercers and always seemed to be stroking his cock with thoughts about what he could do next…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wolf had Drake read some of the stories. They were all saved on his computer. They were lovingly archived from years of surfing porn sites while his libido was restrained by his career choices.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The earrings eventually became gauges… and the gauges started to increase in size, distending his earlobes primitively. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A big barbell slit between his right eyebrow. It was heavy and thick like a segment of piping, not jewelry.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake had gotten a job as a security guard but soon Wolf’s insatiable desire for Drake to look more and more hardcore, made that impossible. Their fuck sessions got more intense after each new mark of Wolf’s control. Drake began to look more and more like a counter culture eyesore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the septum ring that got him fired.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A big bull ring, thick as a doorknocker protruded from his nostrils. It was bulky and ungainly, just like Drakes size. It forced his nostril holes to flare. It left him looking like a brutish lout, like some tribal mascot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having been dishonorably discharged it was impossible for him to get a new job, especially with how he looked. Good old Wolf found him a new job though…where his appearance wouldn’t only fit in… it would attract attention.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By now, that’s what Wolf was really after. His sexual appetite had grown beyond just his boy. He had been caged too long. He wanted to make up for all that lost time, serving at his country’s pleasure. He was now intent to serve his pleasure.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drake began working at the local leather bar, as a bar back or doorman or whatever they needed. It was the ultimate marriage of all the new changes. His Hair and beard were a perfect advertisement for Wolf’s specialty Barber shop and he could pick up hundreds of horny strays to take home to his master…<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was after he was at the leather bar for a month that he started to think of Wolf as his master… it just came natural… wolf wasn’t his boyfriend… he wasn’t wolf’s equal… wolf was his superior. His boss. His owner… The old Drake had always just gone with the flow and tried his hardest to fit into the crowd… so this Drake did too… This drake totally immersed himself in the leather sub-culture the way the old Drake had done with the Fraternity lifestyle. Two different paths, same desperate need to fit in. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Months of dirty threesomes, weekend long sex fueled escapades and the orgy of city life beckoned Drake from beyond the mirror. He didn’t even notice that he had wrapped one big callused paw around his cock and begun to stroke it. Memories of faceless men, their cocks bared and their voices commanding obedience filled the once proud Cop’s sons’ mind. The dick in his hand stuck out like an arrow pointing hungrily in the direction of this new life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The depravity worsened Wolf’s need to augment his boy… Drake lurched forward as he felt the tight clinch of a ball stretcher yank his scrotum like taffy… dangling balls swung grotesquely against his legs…</span></div><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He yelped in pain as the pins and needles built up into an uncontrolled frenzy, trying to force their way out of his nipples. A strange pressure started pushing outwards and his areolas were enlarging. Fearfully Drake felt these unwelcome protrusions with his fingertips. His areolas were taking on a darker hue and an intense shooting pain could be felt behind his nipples, as if a piece of wire was trying to connect. To Drake's horror those little nubs began to inflate as his teats hardened to resemble a pair of long eraser heads… he yelped as two thick barbells dissected them. Long hours of nipple play, torture and piercing had mangled his tits into live wires of pleasure and pain.</span></pre><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hardcore Sexuality and fornication became second nature to him. He was the perfect hound to sniff out willing playmates to take back to Wolf’s Den. The new Drake that stared back at him had taken to this life of deviance and rebellion the way the old one, the closeted Frat boy, had taken to being a jock clone. He assumed the role he was expected to play. He became what everyone else expected him to be. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Lech in the mirror’s walrus face grinned in recognition. This new Drake was just like the old one…just a different set of circumstances… different culture to please… Different crowd to desperately fit into…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So many ways to please Wolf…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was the perfect advertisement…</span></div><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh fuck! </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake fell to his knees and collapsed doggy-style on the carpet. He rolled and squirmed along the carpet as if he was engulfed in flames.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not again.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> It felt like termites had begun to burrow underneath his skin. Shit, that tingling sensation was unbearable. It was everywhere. It was all over him. He barked and bucked in panic, moving his brawny body like a dog trying to rid itself of fleas… all the while his gaze was still transfixed to his reflection.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake had been the one to offer to get the first tattoo… it just snowballed from there…with his master insisting on more and more perverse and brash designs…</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Red and white Barber stripes connected his elbow to his wrist, his forearms looking roughly the size of a barber pole. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wolves mounting various dogs ran in a mosaic up to his shoulder.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wide unmistakable paw prints traveled from his hulking chest up the side of his neck.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Alternate Reality and the one Drake had been living finally collided. The old Drake was obliterated and steamrolled into non-existence under the locomotive pressure of the new reality.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Fuck he liked the Tattoo’s.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He liked the debauchery. It was dirty. He was dirty. Endless nights of getting fucked and milked like an animal washed away nights of studying and organizing fraternity events.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Big cursive lettering formed over his ponderous iron belly, “SLUT GUT”. The Drake in the mirror laughed. The Drake on his knees laughed too. Wolf always said it wasn’t all the Power Squats or beer that gave him that prestigious gut… it was all the cum he had guzzled down at the bar…</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake stood up, still fixated on his distorted doppelganger, not realizing he now was the reflection. He laughed at himself, taking in the full effect of the massive weight gain, the heavy muttonchops and the abnormal face… “No Wonder dey Call Me a Pit Bull.”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The gauges widened… stretching width and lengthening the ears to bizarre measurements. The Big man jowls… the over muscled traps, and now the floppy ears… “I looks like a Pit-bull.” He laughed even harder. The stocky muscled form shook with rancorous giggles. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The word “Pit-Bull” spread across his gargantuan back, written like a wide and unmistakable prison tattoo… A portrait of a Pit-bull pissing on a rainbow flag was scrawled in a lewd mosaic on the ample flesh of his right thigh.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fucking Pit bull!” He kept on stroking his erection, the top of his meaty hand slapping the underside of his gut-keg. “Whadda fuckin Sexy pig.” He flared his nostrils and snorted…laughing harder. “Bigger pig then dos’ fuckah’s outside.”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Above the swell of his big buffalo ass, in smaller script, the label, “SLUT BUTT” appeared. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake continued to laugh at the Pit-bull monstrosity in the mirror. He gave himself a playful “Ruff!” and flexed an engorged bicep.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well Drake, looks like you’ve made quite the dog’s dinner of things.” Damien mused.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Aww Relax Damien, I’m just haffin sum fun.” Drake snorted as he scratched his low hangers.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> Wait. Damien? How did he know this guy anyway? He had never met him. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The gruesome leather boy turned toward the stranger… he was really hot, maybe he was here to play too… “Hey ah… How da ya know my name… We hook up or sumfin?”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes back in college.”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake bayed a big belly laugh and barked, “I ain’t neva gone ta no college.”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m glad you agree.”</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien… </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>College…</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh no…</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>…no</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The last lingering remnants of Drake’s former identity fought valiantly. He felt bile rising in his obscenely huge stomach and thrashed wildly at the atrocity in the mirror. He rallied all of his fractured personality and and made one final attempt at resistance.</span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> “Damien!” Drake roared. He looked at the man who had once been his friend and occasional lover. His eyes pleaded and he implored for compassion, “Change me back! I’m begging you.”</span></pre><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Demon paused, “That’s not begging.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He moved closer to Drake, his powerful form undulating under his tank top. The demon bent his face to drake’s distended droopy ear. His tormentor whispered diabolically, “I’ll show you how to beg.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A wave of emotion pulled over Drake like a blanket. He fell to his knees. He stared up at the figure in absolute adulation. His cock was hard and his mind was on fire with the need to please the wraith in front of him. His desire was constricting and suffocating. His skin burned with the urge to be touched. His teeth chattered with the need to service cock.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was worthless, a pathetic ball of muscle and flesh whose only purpose was to bring other men pleasure. He had learned that over the years of being dominated by Wolf. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He shook with desire and humiliation, in the presence of such a great and powerful man. He whined like a dog in obedience and his stiff cock jabbed his belly in expectation. His mouth was dry and his voice trembled, “Please!” He whimpered, sniffing the man’s feet. “please…please… please… use me… use me … please… .”</span></div><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The demon Laughed, “Now that’s begging. You’re a good puppy.” </span></pre><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Drake is Good puppy?” He asked stupidly, wretchedly seeking approval.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“You bet Puppy. You are man’s Best Friend… Every man… Any man. You are a well trained, well groomed DOG.”</span></div><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake smiled contentedly. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was a well groomed puppy. </span></pre><pre><span style="font-size: 14pt;">His piercings were all shined. His muscles all pumped. His Mohawk styled and His fetish Gear was polished. He now wore only a pair of calf high boots and wrist gloves… both bought from a city fetish store. They were designed to mimic a Dog’s paws and restricted his movements to basic animal function. The only attempt to cloth the pornographic artistry of his immoral muscled flesh canvas… was a dirty white jockstrap that let his long ball sac droop out the side. Puppy looked at his Hot Sexy Body in the mirror, he whined a little because his fetish mits restricted his hands and he couldn’t get at his insatiable Cock, “Hey bud…” he said looking at the strange man in the room with him… “Help me out?” He rolled on to his back and presented his Raging erection. He stuck out his droopy pierced tongue and panted excitedly. The Dog boy kicked his swollen legs into the air playfully. He Loved being in this Gear it totally let him act like an animal. He could totally let go in the role… He was good at acting like something he wasn’t…. He had always been…</span></pre><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Sorry Puppy. I have a Date,” He patted the prostrated mound of beef on his spiky head, “and so do you…” The Demon receded into the shadows of the bedroom “…no rest for the wicked…” He whispered to the Cockhound on the floor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The door opened and Wolf sauntered in. Drake swung his head around and immediately rose to his knees in supplication. “There’s my good boy; On your knees where you belong. Sorry we forgot the knee-pads tho.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s okay I don’t…” Drake was silenced with one of Wolf’s huge hands across his mouth. It was comforting and familiar. Drake licked it affectionately, tasting the musk of his master.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No talking tonight, okay little buddy? You know the rules. Bark when I say speak. You’re in your gear so… you’re my good boy tonight.” He rubbed his puppy’s clean shaven head lovingly. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He Gave the Pup a long deep kiss that tasted both of his puppy’s tongue piercings. Drake savored the kiss and then returned it by licking the silver stubble of Wolf’s jaw. Wolf smiled and put an ornate spiked collar around Drake’s bloated neck. He carefully attached a long chain leash. “You’re going to make your internet debut tonight, and I want you to make me proud.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Drake beamed at the prospect of getting his master’s approval, wagging his butt excitedly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now these guys can make you a star… all you gotta do is put on a good show.” Wolf pulled the leash tight forcing Drake to stand and follow him from the room.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These guys were going to put Puppy on their website. Puppy was gonna make Wolf Proud. Puppy was going to suck. Puppy was going to Lick. Puppy was going to Fuck. Puppy was going to get fucked. Puppy was going to be a good Dog.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake wobbled out of the bedroom on sturdy but inflexible legs, his akimbo waddle making him look like an overinflated balloon. The leash was long but still held tight in Wolf’s grasp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Drake no longer thought of himself as Drake. He was just “Puppy”. He had been responding to that name for so long, that his name…his name just didn’t sound right. He was Puppy. He was Wolf’s puppy. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Alright Puppy… go Fetch.” Wolf commanded</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy gave Wolf a look of desperate obedience and shambled toward the two seated Bikers on the couch. Motor and Gear had their leathers undone to their knees, with their tighty-whitey’s pulled like rubber bands around their kneecaps. Both men were vigorously stroking their cocks and watching the stripper get impaled by Harley’s aggressive ministrations with his own nightstick. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Young skin was wanking his cock like a mad man, watching the slutty physique model squirm and whimper.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Officer Good cock was handcuffed to a pipe, with a set of his own costume cuffs. His naked body was sweaty and wet. Every inch of fake tan skin was covered with perspiration from straining his ass muscles around the wide shaft of the foreign object.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">All the men gave lecherous smiles every time “Officer Good Cock” whimpered and squealed from the assault on his hungry hole. His overly muscled and ridiculously tanned body twitched and convulsed in torment, anchored down by the handcuffs. His pretty face was tight with anguish but his ramrod hard cock bounced against his taunt abdomen, betraying his pleasure. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy dropped to all fours in front of the men. His heavy shoulders hunched up and his thick unmanageable legs were lodged together. The jockstrap left the huge overgrown swell of his Bull ass exposed as he bent forward. His stretched and extended scrotum dangled ridiculously as he spread his big thighs, the modified ball sac looking to all-the-world like the canine genitals of a well-hung mut. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Dog boy gave his master one last look before he dove hard into Motor’s Hairy crotch… his long tongue bathing the man’s sweaty and rigid staff ferociously. He ran the heavy piercing of his tongues’ tip gauge against the wide mushroom of Harley’s cockhead. He lapped at the stranger’s crotch franticly, grunting and yelping for emphasis. He ran his snout through the heavy bush covered in sex juice and relish the stink of the Big Bear’s Pubic Mane. Motor moaned contentedly and began stroking the sides of puppy’s shaved head, murmuring over and over again, that he was “a good dog…such a good dog.” The front of puppy’s worn and distended jockstrap tented magnificently as his dog cock flopped around in excitement at the approval. He continued to bury his whole face in the scumbags’ swampy groin. He sniffed and licked at the heavy genitals that rubbed against his tongue, lips and muttonchops. Above him, Motor violently flexed and roared as the big cock spit its seed all over puppy’s Mohawk. Motor grabbed tightly onto the heavy spiked collar around the cock-hound’s thick neck. He jerked him back and forth with each shudder of his orgasm.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy cleaned the oozing tool gently. He slurped up every drop of cum from the Biker’s flaccid organ.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Lick.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Lick.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Lick.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Good dog.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without even pausing, he pushed his huge ass upward and shuffled over toward Gear, with his sack bobbing ludicrously. He went right to work, nipping at the big man’s bone. The Linebacker tweeted in his silly squeaky-toy voice and made unconvincing attempts to sound Butch in commanding Puppy “To Lick his big Babymaker.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Wolf sat in a chair that gave him full view of the lewd display and humiliation of his boy. His own massive tool was firmly in hand. He stroked his girder, delighted in watching his pet subjugate and debase himself in front of strangers. He was such a good dog. Wolf’s eyes devoured every inch of the scene. Puppy’s mammoth, over developed ass cheeks shuddered tantalizingly as he bobbed up and down on the cock-meat in front of him. The weight of his overgrown shoulders flexed as he struggled to remain on all fours. His multitude of Tattoo’s glistened from a thick coating of sweat, making each one look even more vile, obscene and plastic. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Wolf’s eyed fixated on the wide cursive script of the word “Slut Butt” which arced over the former military man’s huge ass, stamped profanely on the small of his back. His Gaze then traveled lower to Puppy’s massive right buttock… to the wolf’s paw and smaller print, which read quite clearly, “MILLITARY ISSUED PROPERTY OF SRGT.P.WOLF.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Giant instrument in his hand couldn’t resist any longer. He moved forward on his long legs and knelt behind his puppy’s wide waiting hole. Puppy felt the familiar pressure of Wolf guiding his high hips and thick cock shaft down toward him. He whined in eager anticipation. Wolf took both his big hands on either side of the dog’s meaty hips, “Time to wag that tail bitch.” He commanded. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy’s heart beat with senseless expectation. Wolf spit on the length of his dick and drove it deep between the dog’s bloated cheeks, toward the warm, wet, empty, slut-hole of his property. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy’s body shook and every one of his bulky muscles tensed, as he howled in overwhelming ecstasy at the intrusion of the impaling pole.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">His puppy mouth hung slack jawed and his eyes glazed as he panted under the brutal fucking. Wolf slammed into him over and over again, plowing him like a field, filling his sloppy muscle hole with the dick that owned him. The Older man methodically set to work on him, sweating, grunting and manhandling him with expert force.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy drooled and whined. His dog-cock leaked.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Wolf battered down on the greedy hole.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Three Pigs, laughed, cheered and masturbated harder. They were a chorus of snorting approval.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The stripper whimpered and attempted to rub his own erection against the hard carpet, in an animated and futile effort to relieve his own aching need. He fretfully humped the ground, forcing the nightstick that skewered his toned and muscled ass, to dance comically. All the while he unabashedly writhed and moaned like a bitch.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Puppy felt so good to be used. He was worthless when he wasn’t getting boned. When Wolf was inside of him he was complete. He was safe and he was owned. His ass clenched and spasmed around the huge cock, that had been guiding his entire life, making all his decisions and taking care of him. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Wolf continued his assault. His gargantuan body rained sweat down all around him, while under him, puppy barked with reckless abandon. The Ogre thrust in and out until after what seemed like hours, he let out a roar of release, dominance and ownership… The puppy joined his Master in relief, both men barked a primal animalistic howl…that was enough to blow the whole house down. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>CHAPTER 4</u></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino sat quietly across from Damien’s little sister. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She wasn’t at all what he had expected.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When one conjured the image of Damien Vaughn’s sister, you didn’t picture the captain of the cheerleading team. But, there she sat demurely… almost apologetically across from him. They sat facing each other across an ancient garden table that was situated at the heart of a frost bitten garden. This girl didn’t look more than 17 but he knew she was a senior in college. Her beauty was breath-taking. As she nervously smiled across from him, he noticed that her attraction wasn’t just her smooth ageless face, or the delicate yet athletic frame. She radiated an aura of confident fragility. She was the personification of young womanhood; bright, loving and full of promise.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gino’s dick didn’t twitch once</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Yup, still very gay.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">… but he<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>did find himself longing to have this girl approve of him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now let’s begin,” She chirped sweetly and then began to light white candles around the table. She pulled a deck of cards from her apron. Gino recognized them from junior high. They were brightly colored Tarot cards…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uh I lived with your brother for awhile and I er.. never saw him do this stuff…” He questioned uncomfortably.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally tisked, “That’s because we’re two different kind of witches. Now if you’re going to laugh or be uncooperative it will break my spell…” The dreamy blue in her eyes hardened to a steely grey, “And if you break my spell I will be very “NOT happy.”” She warned.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yup, that was Damien’s sister.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So er… there are “Different Kinds” of witches?” Gino asked, continuing with uncomfortable conversation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes, I’m a real Witch and Damien’s not.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Damien’s not a witch?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh he’s one hell of a witch, just not a real one… he deals in a kind of magic that hasn’t been used in three hundred years, Fairytale magic.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino didn’t even try to sugar coat his next skeptical question, “Fairytale?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I play by the rules of witchcraft,” Ally sighed heavily. I believe in it’s tenants and I use silly things like candles… flowers… tarot cards… because my magic is based in what is real… dirt… flesh…water… blood.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She began to spread the cards in front of her, “Damien’s so powerful he doesn’t have to use tools or obey any rules. He simply decides to do something and does it. He’s Cinderella’s Fairy God Mother or the wicked Fairy at the christening… Pure magic no constraints… It’s why he’s going crazy… He’s turned the world into stories and got caught up in them.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This was total bull-shit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He needed to find Damien.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He didn’t need this fucking diatribe on mumbo-jumbo.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Doctor Heart had been very specific.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He wanted Damien Vaughn. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">And whatever Rhodry Heart wanted, he got.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Or somebody paid.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…Gino was still healing from Doctor Heart’s last “session” with him. After the scene at the club, Heart kept him in a sling in his office for days, letting his army of whores, thugs and gangsters fuck, bleed and bruise him to a pulp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Doctor Heart nursed him lovingly back to health, assuring him it was for his own good. His master gently lavished care and compassion on him, assuring Gino that he had learned his lesson.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And he had to do only one thing to be his master’s alpha slave again…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Find the Witch.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It wasn’t his place to ask why.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was his place to obey.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was his place to Obey and perform.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He liked to obey.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Obeying made him satisfied.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>…but still, a part of him wanted to warn Damien.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>WHATEVER his intentions were …</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">If he didn’t find Damien and soon… Heart would send him back to the… back to the box… he couldn’t go back there…not back there…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need answers!” He stormed. “…And I don’t believe in any of this magic SHIT!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally smiled a grin of approval, “Good. That might improve your odds.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She arranged her deck and looked up expectantly. Her grin was genuine and sweet, “Now Mr. Salvatore, let’s read.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino looked at the doe eyed blonde impatiently, “What are you going to learn from those cards, that I just can’t tell you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You don’t have to tell me anything.” She said sweetly, “I know most of it already. You were born into a lower middle class family and worked some kind of labor job…but you’ve recently come into money… and now work somewhere that appearance and means are very important.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino sputtered… “How did you know that…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally shrugged, “I could tell that just from your tacky adherence to over-priced label clothing. The Nuevo Riche always overdo.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino blinked. This was absolutely Damien’s sister.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Go ahead.” He conceded.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She turned over the first card, “The Knight of cups.” She poked him, “that’s you. It means a brave valiant man, a man of great spiritual energy.” She said happily.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino rolled his eyes. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She pretended not to notice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You are crossed by…the magus.” She overturned a picture of a magician.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So I guess that’s Damien.” Gino offered forcibly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ally scrutinized the card. “No, this is a schemer… a game player… a man of design and machination…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino’s Heart froze in his chest. He knew who that was. “This man crosses you because he has you under his spell I think.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino’s mind shrieked the name, Dr. Heart.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Allysandra was wrapped in what the cards were saying to her. She turned over the next one, “Your desire is”… There was a card of a solitary man, ”The hermit.” She smiled triumphantly…”Now there’s Damien.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Behind you in your past… The Wheel of Fate. It symbolizes Great change…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino thought of living with Damien…changing jobs…coming out…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And in your recent past… Lust…” Two lovers were entwined on the card “But it’s reversed…” She mused. “Dark lust… twisted and carnal.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino looked around uncomfortably, ashamed at his recognition of such things…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And your future?” she asked herself. “The two of rods.” The picture displayed two men with walking sticks traveling down to separate roads. She turned to face Gino. Her blue eyes captured him and held him in their grasp. Her gaze was intent and her face now seemed terribly mature and not ageless at all. “You face a choice Mr. Salvatore. Choose one road or the other.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the FUCK does that mean!” He roared. Gino swept the cards off the table. “Listen, you don’t even know me. What do you know about my life?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Allysandra didn’t even blink, “I know you have allowed some man to control you with your lust and carnality.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I HAD NO CHOICE! HE MADE ME HIS SLAVE!” The scream from Gino’s throat was wild and primal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No.” The oracle replied, her voice as gentle as a reed, “You Chose to let him make you a slave. For the same reason you let Damien transform you. You wanted it. Secretly, deep down in the darkest places of your heart… you desired it.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You think I let him turn my whole life upside down, take me from a happy care-free mechanic and turn me into a horny bodybuilding queen.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You spend too much time playing cards.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gino sat down heavily, his throat was stifling sobs as the young girl in the garden stripped away all his denial and excuses. “This magus gave you a life of carnality, lust and pleasure… and in return you gave him your obedience. That’s the spell that crosses you. The spell you allow.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re wrong,” Gino almost whimpered. He was in shock and about to start hyperventilating. “I don’t want… I Don’t allow…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Allysandra Vaughn leaned in close to him, with the calculation of a coiled viper, “Do you know why Damien’s spells never fail?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino shook his head dejectedly.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He lets the victims do all the work.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The big Italian’s head shot up incredulously. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Magic is nothing but the sheer force of belief. Now, Damien’s always been self-assured enough to be able to harness that into one hell of a weapon. He really believes in himself… but his spells are only illusion… UNTIL the victim starts to think they are real… wants them to be real.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino considered it… Thinking of all the things he had done since he had first come out…wandering now how much was forced and how much was just freed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She smiled a secretive knowing smile. “He strikes at men who have the dark desire to be punished, Men who wish their life was different, desperate for some kind of change, men who are ruled by their appetites: Sex, money, attention….” She spoke to him like she was reciting a recipe. “He casts a spell on them, trapping them in the punishment they privately know they deserve and he baits the trap with sexual inhibition and depravity.” She gave his big bicep a pat, “Human nature does the rest.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino considered this for a moment and with a stark realization saw what she meant. “Damn”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Damned.” She corrected, “Free will is the most powerful force in the universe.” She sat back happily, “So you see… everyone has a choice Mr. Salvatore… no magic can take that from you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gino sat in silence.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now that I’ve read you… I can tell you about Damien….” She fidgeted uncomfortably, “He’s lost himself in a mirror. He used a mirror to change who he was and now… he’s just a reflection… of his true self. Fairy magic twists everything. He’s physically beautiful but rotting from the inside out.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Gino was quiet and his hands were gripped in tight fists “He did that for me… Changed himself…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I expect he did.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“He thought I wouldn’t be able to love him, if he weren’t some muscleboy” He looked up and his eyes were fighting back tears… “But I did! I loved him.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“Yeah that’s unfortunately the other BIG problem. Love and our family don’t go well together.” Her smile was embarrassed, “Family curse.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Gino rolled his eyes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“If you Google: Vaughn, Tragedy and Love, It should catch you up.” She added helpfully. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“I’m confused.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">“This is what you need to know:” She sighed impatiently “He’s only a reflection of himself. The real Damien is somewhere in there…but he can’t see that. He’s off dancing with the fairies… he can’t tell what is real anymore…” She sighed again “Also, He’s a Vaughn. He fell in love. Now it’s destroying him. “</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Who did he fall in…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t play dumb with <state w:st="on"><place w:st="on">me.</place></state>” She snapped. “We both know you’re not.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re a smart girl.” Gino said in a quiet voice. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>”I know a lot.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you are looking for him because you were told to.” Her voice was angry and protective. He began to defend himself but she added in a gentle tone, “And because you hope he can save you.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She stood up, implying that the audience was over. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Gino wasn’t finished, “Well can’t you do something!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">She moved away from the table, as twilight began to descend on her garden. “Unfortunately my brother has made sure I’m going to be too busy trying to help two of my friends… for the moment my hands are tied.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Alyssa stopped her retreat for a brief thoughtful second. She looked up at the skeleton of her once flourishing apple tree; now a dry husk. She reached out and retrieved one singular apple that had managed to survive her brother’s attack. She tossed it from hand to hand thoughtfully.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young White witch glided back toward the house, a ghost in the fading light. “Two roads, Mr. Salvatore. The choice is yours.” She turned and gave him one last formidable glare, “Neither of those roads will lead to Damien saving you.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her voice hung in the air long after she had vanished into the night. Gino sat alone in the gloom, haunted. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Her last words floated on the breeze, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…“But I do pray one road will lead… to where you can save him…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">…..</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Somewhere else.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Somewhere hidden.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">Somewhere far away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Somewhere Deep beneath the Earth.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere it was hot all the time…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Somewhere unlucky men lived in torment…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The Dank musty smell of sex and blood perfumed the dark cell. The Jailers threw their prisoner back into his cage. Another night of fighting in the Box, trying to stay on his feet… not to fall… trying not to be the loser… not to be the man who got his ass…raped… had drained Leo of all his Strength. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He hated the box.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">How long had this been going on? He lay in a pool of his own blood and piss and wandered how long his time in hell had been. There were no windows in the box or his Cell. The time was only marked by sleep… fighting for his life in the ring and the meal times of high protein gruel. His hell was eternal and unending. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He hated the Box.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">When they first brought him here he was horrified to realize that he was supposed to fight gladiator style with other captives regularly… even more horrified to realize the loser of these brutal animal brawls was wrestled to the ground and raped for the amusement of the guards and the shadowy clapping figures in balconies high above the ring. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You don’t look to good champ.” A familiar voice taunted him. “Your Pre-season training not what you expected?”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo was delirious and so exhausted that he didn’t even question the Demon’s presence. He looked up at Damien. He wore a heavy unzipped sweatshirt that revealed the deep cleft in his chest but covered his face in a deep cowl. Blue stars twinkled soullessly from the shadows of the hood.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo’s split lip bled down his chin and he spat blood all over the cement floor. “Is this Hell? Are you the devil?” He asked in a defeated tone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien turned to him and regarded him with a wintry curiosity, “I thought you Leo, of all people, would be above such things as believing in the boogeyman.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Damien drew closer to the crumpled form on the floor of the cell. He knelt down to meet Leo’s angry gaze. “The Devil is a fiction created by weak men.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His cold voice displayed no hint of interest or emotion. “It’s a myth to keep the peasants in line. It kept the serfs in the pews and the coffers in the collection plate. Men believed it because it gave them an excuse for the evil and corruption inherent to their nature.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You are the devil…and this is hell…” Leo whispered to the blood stains on the floor. He didn’t even bother to look at the witch.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The demon stood surveying Leo’s raped and beaten body with appreciation, and continued his lecture. “It’s easier to say the devil made me do it, than it is to admit that the devil really is a little piece of yourself.” Damien’s eyes glittered beneath the hood, “No Leo I am not the Devil… but in a way… we all are.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The beaten Prisoner let his head fall back to the cool concrete floor of his Cell. “Why did you come here?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“To ensure that you were not dying. Death is not part of my design.” The dry voice explained.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The Man’s disinterest in his animal captivity, his cool composure at his torture and prison, ignited a fury in Leo. He managed to stand on wobbly legs and felt his nude ass leak blood and probably cum as he struggled to meet the man’s gaze. He reached down deep into himself, into the memory of who he really was, and wailed, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!!!” His scream came out in a flourish of spit and blood.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man didn’t blink. “Because I can.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo collapsed back down again, and for the first time since this hellish nightmare began he let himself weep. He sobbed quietly clutching his probably broken ribs. The realization, that this was all real and it was going to continue, crushed him in an avalanche of despair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“…and quite frankly Leo… I think I like seeing you suffer.” The hooded and gothic specter melted into the shadows “I’ll be seeing you soon, whenever the Good Doctor declares you fit to play ball….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goodbye Leo…”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Leo shuddered. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">He realized that Damien was the first person to use his name in months… He barely recognized it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">The animal that he was becoming, barely recognized it. He huddled his broken naked body against the concrete, coughed and sobbed himself to sleep.<span style="color: red;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;">NEXT: BMOC #7</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>“HELL”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Life inside the Box and after…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The stories of several of Dr. Hearts Experiments</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And of course, Leo’s reconditioning at Doctor Heart’s skilled Hands.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nothing could be as horrible as Damien right?... Right?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
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</div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-1385697190698825742011-01-20T19:06:00.000-08:002011-01-25T04:50:06.516-08:00SCARLET WITCH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="color: white;"><u>Marvel Definition</u>:</span> <em><span style="color: red;">The Scarlet Witch</span></em> is an omega level <span style="color: white;">mutant</span> who has the ability to manipulate probability via her "hexes" (often manifesting physically as "hex spheres" or "hex bolts"). These hexes are relatively short range, and are limited to her line of sight, requiring her presence or knowledge of her subjects.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The Scarlet Witch's</span> power to alter reality was spawned from the combination of her natural mutant abilities to affect probability and Chaos Magic. Because of the nature of her powers, she does not possess limitations such as other reality warpers. Her powers which stemmed out from the ability to manipulate probabilities suggest that she does not need existing matter to warp reality, only possibilities... which are endless.<br />
<br />
After years of serving as a Hero, the chaotic and limitless nature of her powers took a terrible toll on her psyche. No longer able to distinguish between reality and her own adverse manipulation, she suffered a mental breakdown that tore the fabric of time and space resulting in an alternate universe of her own design.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-WGpmAPPZhFzuZE9_sD_sdEwKa_eR6E-M6K3dX0BaGah3efQqx92EbyjsrMXnh9QeRQdrROLxuiOEco8jTuKW0AJ8_zymQtz9YQsRSVCJj2svZjUNGmS2gnWIXH3dkPnETLs9C1GqNQ/s1600/blog+4.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ONIX</span>- <u>Personal Definition</u>: Internet author of Homosexual Erotica since 1999. Professional Writer and Concept Consultant. General Laborer. Reluctant Philosopher. Occasional Stripper. Amateur Bodybuilder. Personal Trainer. Hopeless Romantic. Social Butterfly. Brooding Scholar. Repentant Sinner. Knight in Shinning Armor. Incredible Hulk. Dark Phoenix. Student of Metaphysics. World Traveler. Habitual Narcissist <br />
The Author would never call himself a <span style="color: red;">Witch</span>.... However, he would never disagree with someone who accused him of being one.<br />
<br />
</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-44596879378798571382011-01-20T18:44:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:44:02.797-08:007.) I Put A Spell On You<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><h3 class="chapter">Chapter 1</h3><div>The day was starting out badly.<br />
I tripped over both the empty bottles of beer and boxes of wine by my bed... It was a long couple of nights alright? I was having a good lord I can't believe im admitting this, a crissis of consience.<br />
Yeah I was shocked too.<br />
It's like Jimmny mother fucking cricket has been whispering in my ear.<br />
After talking to Deana at the Waterloo and realizing that I did have some pretty intense feelings for Gino I further realized what a nightmare I had made for myslef.<br />
Her I am Dr. Frankenstien and all I want to do in life is get it on with my monster and settle down with a couple of vietnamese war orphans. Yeah I'm living in wonderland. That's the funny thing with all this, even though everyone else is oblivious to all my tampering...I'm not and it never really bothered me before...but the closer I get to Gino and the amourously closer he gets to me, I realize that something has changed.<br />
All this magical transformation has underscored one of my own. The bottom line being this is defenently the end. I've got to move out and get on with my life. I mean this was fun but now every time Gino gives me puppy dog moon eyes I feel like a heal. Every time I see Red and Hank I wander if their love is the true incomparable kind they believe it is or is it just the ramifications of a witty spell I cast with Eric's alarm clock.<br />
Last night was when I had finally had enough heineken to tell Gino I was moving out. He took it lest then well, at first he pouted and then he raved and finally he just left the room in stony silence.<br />
But it's for the best he'll see. He has no clue all the shit I've done and no one wants to date Freddy kruger man.<br />
I'm like the I dream of Jeanie from hell. You let me into your house and I don't grant your wishes I make your nightmares reality and then make you love it. I am such an unbelievable bastard.<br />
So I've been drinking, like it comes as any surprise, I'm the king of vice man. I've been literally trying to drown myself in alcohol and moody black women. I have the Blues so I've been listening to the blues. Over and over again, Billy, Nina, Sarah, If she's black lived during the 40's and been done wrong, she's on my multichange CD player...as a matter of fact I must have gotten a real load on after the altercation with Gino because I could vaguely make out the skipping of one of my favorite CD's as I was about to head to the kitchen. As I liastened to the scratching of the beautiful song I rolled my eyes heaven word and marveled once again at God's unbelievable sense of humur.<br />
"I put a spell on you..." nina Simone crooned behind me.<br />
"and now your mine." She skipped<br />
"and now your mine"<br />
"And now your mine."<br />
I kicked the Cd player<br />
And it skipped again "You Can't stop the things I do...<br />
"I ain't lying..."<br />
"I ain't lying..."<br />
"I ain't Lying..."<br />
But I was.<br />
And fuck Nina for telling me about it. So I quite maturely punched the CD player until it shut up. It must have been skipping since I fell asleep. That's' strange. I waded through layers of messy clothes until I finally found the damn door.<br />
I wandered to the kitchen in my sweat pants only to find that Red had found the milk I hidden in the crisper and devoured both it and an entire box of my cap'n crunch. Not only had he eaten my breakfast he had managed to make one huge ass mess in the process. I purveyed the fridge for anything resembling animal vegetable or mineral. Found a lot of minerals, however little to no Animal nor vegetable..unless you consider the fuzz growing on whatever was living at the back of the freezer...but it seemed to be moving so it could have been on or the other.<br />
Oh, well it's not like I had anything planned for the day except research. I could easily run across the street grab a bag of cheeto's and start trying to translate these ridiculously long French astrological calculations back into their original latin. It's one thing to translate one language into your native tongue but trying to translate your 4th language into a dead language made my head swim. Hey, but that's why I'm a child genius. I know the generally excepted term is Geek but I do prefer child genius.<br />
I was still debating on weather or not I should scrape the fuzz of the back of the freezer and scrape it on some toast when the phone rang, "College Boy Taxidermy, You snuff 'em we stuff 'em."<br />
"....Damien I wish you wouldn't answer the phone like that, people from work might be calling me."<br />
"Gino Why are you calling the house phone? I swear if your calling me from your cell to tell me to bring your god damn coffee to you while your in the shower again...I'm going to bring you the coffee and a plugged in blow driver." I grumbled. "I'm not your god damn house boy you know."<br />
He chuckled a little on the other side of the line. "Now there's a mental picture."<br />
"Pig," I snapped as I lit a cigarette.<br />
"I'm not in the house anyway smart ass, Look I had to go out of town this morning my boss cancelled out on this convention and had me go in his place." He explained.<br />
....House to myself....<br />
red's at work....<br />
Brian's probably still tied up over at Forman and mark's, literally...<br />
I was officially home alone, I paused and put both hands up to my face in mock shock, AHHH! "Okay Gino, when are you coming back?"<br />
"Not for three or four days..." he said and trailed off<br />
"You'll be there when I get back right, you own't leave without at least a goodbye..."<br />
He was so sincere so genuine that it almost completey took me aback, "sure gino, I'll be here for you man" I said with the same sincerety. It's a tone of voice I don't really use....I think normal people call it honesty<br />
"Good." He said happily.<br />
"Is their anything else cause I'm about twenty minutes late for my morning Japanese anime cartoons and if you miss the first half you totally don't ever catch up."<br />
He paused and in the silence of that pause I realized I had just set myself up for the inevitable favor that was coming, "There is one thing....I had such little notice that I left a couple of things undone at the gym..."<br />
"What type of things?" I asked cautiously.<br />
"Well I have to do the day edit's so the staff get's payed....If someone doesn't file the paperwork...no one on staff's gonna eat for a week. And it would be really great if you could..."<br />
"Go into your office do the paperwork and file it for you." I continued finishing his sentence.<br />
"Yeah!"<br />
"No!"<br />
"Aw, c'mon it's only a little math, you are good at math right."<br />
"Yes Gino I'm taking quantum theory and advanced algebraic theorem, I can multiply wage times rate, however I don't want to be around all those vapid little gym rats that hang out at that glorified bath house you call a gym."<br />
"Please Damien, you know I wouldn't ask if it weren't killer important." He begged.<br />
Their was just something about this man that when he was pleading like a little boy that drove me nuts...well to be honest everything about this man drove me nuts. It's gotta be the italian thing...gotta be..."Alright but you gotta swear they're not going to make me move weights or rearrange machines you know how I feel about physical labor."<br />
He laughed a big chested hearty laugh. "don't worry baby, just crunching numbers not Abs."<br />
"Fine, but you owe me."<br />
"...Oh I'm sure I'll find some way to pay you back, ...somehow." His hot italian baritone dripped with suggestion and sent chills up my spine...what was it with this man?<br />
"Alright Don Juan you got what you wanted now go back to your conference.":<br />
"One more thing D,..."<br />
"I AM NOT DOING YOUR LAUNDRY! Now get off my phone you mook." I snapped<br />
"No not that, it's just I ahh...." There was an uncharacteristic anxiousness in his voice, "I...uhm...er.... Left a protein shake in the fridge before I left."<br />
"Uh-huh" I answered.<br />
"Whatever you do, do not drink it." He demanded.<br />
"Gino why would I drink that concrete you.."<br />
"JUST don't drink it!" He Ordered.<br />
"Alright, " I answered taken aback..."Look if I'm going to go DO YOUR WORK, I have to go shower and get dressed. Call me later and I'll tell you how it went."<br />
"Thanks again Damien...I really appreciate it. I know I can always count on you. I don't know what I'm going to do when you..."<br />
I answered him softly and quietly kind of embarrassed, "We talked about this already Gino...I've got to go it's for everyone's own good."<br />
Their was silence again and he finished in a hurt tone, "Fine. Call me later." And then the son of a bitch hung up on me. He hung up like a spoiled brat. Well fuck him then.<br />
I tramped up stairs and hoped in the shower.<br />
I stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. Why would a guy like Gino want me anyway. I mean he had to be at the least 240lbs and 6 and half feet of tone muscled Italian beauty? And what was I? At my 5'11 and a buck 60 I was hardly the kind of guy you'd see such a paragon of gorgeousness chasing after.<br />
I assessed myself in the bathroom mirror as I dryed the wetness out of my dark bangs. I'm mean I'm not saying I should have be ringing a cathedral bell and terrorizing all of paris.<br />
I was cute. But that was it. I'm cute.<br />
Not sexy. Not handsome. Cute.<br />
Do you know what a pain in the ass it is to be cute?<br />
My features are a little angular so it makes my face a little elivated above pretty. I have a pug nose that just exacerbates the cuteness. But when talking about how I look it always goes back to my eyes. In all honesty I know what my best feature is and if we're going to ignore my simply spectacular ass, it's my eyes. The first thing a drunken guy at a party says to me when he clumsily hits on me is, "Why do you hide such pretty eyess behind all that hair?" and then they proceed to push my bangs away from my face like it's the end of "the Fucking Way we were"<br />
I continued to towel of my compact 20 year old body. On a good day I was a little bit of an ambercrombie boy, pretty and solidly biult. On a bad day I was the evil twin of an Abercrombie boy. I was a cute guy, I could afford to be picky and proud, but iw as no where near gino's level. He was porn star material. I was strictly catalogue work.<br />
I mean I'm not shallow, I'm just practical.<br />
I put on a pair of baggy dark cord's and one of my shirts with flames on the color, hooked up my wallet chain and slicked my hair down. All black and shiney. I don't usualy over do the Addams family influence in my wardrobe this much but the Dark Skaterboy look tends to frighten the gym bunnies into leaving me alone.<br />
I popped on the Shades and was ready to go.<br />
However my stomach started grumbling again. I remembered that I still hadn't eaten. I rushed down stairs again and once more began the fuzz at the back of the fridge debate. That's when I spied the blender full of grey liquid. Most have been Gino's protein shake. It didn't look to appetizing but then again the Fuzz kept shaking back and forth every time I went to examine it, as it were saying, "I'll cut cha man, I'll cut cha!"<br />
So you don't want to share your go damn food with me but you'll have me be your little errand boy huh Guido? Whatever.<br />
I grabbed the blender and instead of pouring it in a glass as my first reaction suggested, I drank the slop right out of the blender the way I had seen Gino do a million times. To say that it was disgusting would perhps offend all things that were glad to be called disgusting. I'm going to stop doing arbitrarily petty things all together based soley on the fact that that protein shake was the most horrible thing I've ever put passed my lips and that includes the night in high school when I was actually talked into bed by a girl. It was fucking foul man. I would have spit it out but by the time I was running out the door I didn't want to kill the flowers on the lawn.<br />
I jumped in the car and was off to the Gym.</div><div class="mindthegap">I felt funny from jump. The shake was not sitting well with me at all, the entire way to the gym all I did was shift uncomfortably in my car. It just felt you know...wrong. And when I got there it wasn't much better. I was cutting my best lightening bolt swath of mysterious presence as I crossed the gym lobby floor when the overtly perky receptionist stopped me.<br />
"Excuse me errr... sir are you a member..."<br />
I tipped my glasses and regarded her with a cool stare. "No," and continued walking<br />
"Sir...SIR!" she kept saying as I breezed my way passed her desk and into the gym.<br />
I was bearly beyond the glass doors when I could inwardly feel all the little spandex clad cats arching their backs, showing their claws and hissing at me. The contrast between myself and the gym clientele was obvious. As far as the eye could see were various tank tops, shorts, and jogging pants in every conceivable shade of the rainbow from fire engine red to lavender and here I was clothed in shiny black. I must have looked like the wicked witch in munchkin land.<br />
Once I was in the safety of Gino's office I began to relax. My fists unclenched and I relaxed my jaw. I hate being out of an environment I can control. I absolutely hate it. I know that's sounds very Martha Stewart Fanatical but it's just one of my little idiosyncratic ways. The Office was typical Gino. That is it was very cute yet masculine. It had a heavy red theme and seemed more suitable for the interior of some Austin Power's Scene with it's mod motif and furniture. He had probably let one of the little gym bunnies who followed him around like he was a God redecorate it for him.<br />
I slumped into his comfy chair, took one look at the payroll files he had on his desk and fell face first onto the glass table top. I quickly reconsidered grabbed my leather bomber jacket and used it as a makehshift pillow. I was happily snoozing the morning away when I was unceremoniously disturbed by pure evil in biker shorts.<br />
"Gino I just had this great idea and had to ....oh my gawd! How'd you get in here?"<br />
I propped my head up just enough to look at him through one squinted eye. "A rather novel idea Eddie, I used the door. The concepts a little difficult and might elude you... You just grab and pull."<br />
Eddie looked at me from behind a beatific face twisted into a shallow grimace, "I thought people had to say your name three times and spin in a circle or something."<br />
I lazily propped my head up on my elbows and regarded him with an uninterested smirk, Eddie stood before me in all his exercised- over worked out- glory. He wore a pair of baggy nylon pants and a tank top that was so tight I could actually see the beginning of stubble on his shaved chest through the fabric. He was all in Yellow and brown which set off his glorious tan and dyed hair. He looked like every Circuit magazine I had ever discarded at parties. God could a man's skin stretch more erotically over the grapefruits of his delts...<br />
"Eddie it's obvious Gino isn't here so why don't you go back to your glorified line dancing for queens, huh?" Now in all honesty there really wasn't any reason for Eddie and I to have this very open hostility for each other. I mean in all honesty I had made him everything he was today....literally.<br />
But then again Magic can only do so much. It can only accentuate or emphasis qualities already inherent in the subject. It's like that fundamental law of physics madigc can neither create nor destroy...just augment and change...<br />
So when I cast my little hex on Eddie it might have changed his physicality and his subsequent sexual orientation but the Core of Eddie was still the same old Egocentric prick. Only now he was gorgeous and shallow. So he was basically the most vile of combinations, so terrible that just the thought brought my eyes wide with terror- the perfect mix of Quarterback and head cheerleader.<br />
Not to say that I'm some kind of angel by any means and regardless of our past Eddie and I would fundamentally never get along based only on the personality conflicts...but there was one other thing....<br />
"So like Where is GINO, morticia?"<br />
There it was. Eddie knew about the strange relationship Gino and I had been sharing. By all rights Eddie was right to be Jealous even offended. I mean here he was the single most gorgeous gay man in the tri-county area. And I'm not just saying that, the mother fucker has a sash, And the only man who's his equal wants nothing to do with him. Who does he want? The odd little skaterboy with a penchant for the occult. If I were eddie I'd be just as angry.<br />
I couldn't help myself but smirk, "Oh didn't you hear? He ran off to fire island with that bodybuilding champion who was in town last week,"<br />
The look of horror on Eddie's face was exquisite. "NO!"<br />
I laughed "alright he didn't he's just away on buisness and left me to mind the shop, so if you don't mind I've got a busy day of enforcing Gay stereotypes about gyms, spandex and vanity ahead of me so..." I made the condescending "dismissal motion with my hands.<br />
Have you ever seen really attractive people get furious? It's strangely compelling. "I should have known you were here. On my way to work all the pets in the neighborhood were running in circles and the bums were talking backwards." He moved to leave, but turned instead, "Ya know what you are Damien?"<br />
I had that sick feeling of uneasy confrontation. I had only meant to antagonize the little Gym rat but now I think I had got myself right into an all out fight with a Gym Panther and he was about to treat me like one of the slow Unattractive Gazelle's. "No I don't Eddie, I pay a therapist 80 bucks a session so she'll tell me. now I have a lot of..."<br />
"You're Pathetic."<br />
"listen here you stodgy little queen don't think for one second think just cause we both suck dick doesn't mean I won't kick the living..."<br />
"Oh really?" He said and flexed one of his well rounded biceps until it erupted in an erotic display of every crevice of his arm, bulging bigger then most men's thighs. "This isn't just for show bitch."<br />
"Whatever," I was feeling sicker. I usually excel at confrontation but for some reason I was backing down.<br />
"No I think I want to say this, You come in here act like your better then the rest of us with your fucking snotty attitude and condescending glare. You think your better then the rest of us just because you read old books and think deep fucking thoughts. And we're just all beneath you because all we think about is looking good and getting laid." He put both hands down in front of me on the desk, hunching down with a glare of disgust. The particular pose made his lats flare and made his already enormous pecs look like they were going to burst through the tank top. I was feeling sicker and more uncomfortable but the fucking weirdest thing of all...I was getting hard.<br />
"Yeah you pegged me Eddie that's exactly how I think. You should have a radio call in show or something." I said offhandedly and tried to pretend I was examining the pay roll edits more closely.<br />
"I know your type, and if Gino doesn't see it I sure as hell do. You're an envious little bitch. You wish you could look like us. You see big gorgeous guys like me and the boys from the gym shirtless on the dance floor and you wish you could take off your god damn Poke'mon T-shirt and dance with us. Face it Damien you're a fat girl."<br />
"What?" I almost spat at him.<br />
"Oh your not fat babe, your just not one of the pretty girls. And because the pretty girl's won't let you play their reindeer games you have to pretend your just to good for them with all your intelligence and intellectual strife. But in the end your just another Fat girl wishin she could be prom queen." He ahd now worked himself around the desk and was right in front of me. I stood and faced him angrier then I'd ever been yet still feeling so strange I couldn't answer him. "I know what you think when you see my and Gino's big muscled bodies stretching against the fabric of are shirts, our every movemnet popping huge bulges in our clothes..." He got closer to me, "It's not the self righteous irritation you pretend..." he pout his hand on my shoulder and the other took a firm pat to the erection in my groin, "it's a bulge of your own babe." He licked the side of my face, and turned for the door. His ridiculously large bubble but sashayed away tauntingly. "You're just too insecure to admit it."<br />
And then I was alone.<br />
It wasn't until about five minutes later that I actually got it together to respond...."what a slut..."<br />
<br />
<h3 class="chapter">Chapter 2</h3><div>Damein awoke groggily from his cat nap, the numbers and paperwork still undone underneath his sweat soaked brow and elbows. Why was he sweating so hard? He must have had a nightmare while he was sleeping...but he didn't remember it...just short little snippets of have seen images and fractured dream images. He shook his head clearing the fog from his eyes, sending his long bangs swooping around his cheeks. All he could remember was dancing....Dancing with Gino through a throng of people....Yeah...and everyone was there...David and Gabe...Red and Hank...Even Mark and Forman with Brian close at their heels...and still others the boys from the Gym...and the guys from the Waterloo were singing in the background and then suddenly....Now he remembered they weren't dancing anymore Gino was strangling him not holding him. And the guys were cheering. Gino's face changed from the charming grin to the angry leer he had first had....All the men were as they were before any of Damien's tampering and they were mad as hell and they were...<br />
"...Going to kill you!"<br />
"What!" Damien yelled loudly as he turned from his contemplation.<br />
"I said," Answered back Kenny the personal trainer who was basically Gino's right hand man. "Gino's going to Kill you if you don't finish that pay roll." He said with a smile.<br />
"oh I'm sorry I must have dosed off..." Damien answered rubbing his temples agonizingly.<br />
"It's alright little dude I know you'll get it done, I was just breaking your balls..." He said reassuringly.<br />
"What's that supposed to mean?" Damien asked angrily.<br />
"It's an expression, it's means I'm jerking your chain...getting your goat...ya know ridin you...," He paused with a sincere smile and then said, "jeez I never even noticed how, sexual the euphemisms for teasing, were." He laughed.<br />
"No that's not what I meant...What do you mean "little guy"" Damien asked obstinately.<br />
"Uhm...nothing dude I was just..."<br />
"You were just commenting on my little out of shape slacker boy body." Damein spat back as he flopped back in the chair and began to rub his temples even harder.<br />
Kenny looked at him with an honest concern and came around to lay a light and comforting hand on his shoulder. "Is there something wrong Damien?"<br />
"No."<br />
"Because if there is...I'd be glad to help you out...I mean you've done so much for me already," Kenny'e eyes were wide with gratitude...he and mark were SOOOOO happy.<br />
"I really don't need to be reminded of that right now, kenny...." Damien muttered.<br />
Kenny assessed the young man sitting with his head in his hands and answered very carefully, "You know Damien you're a very cute kid." He said, "and I know eddie was in here earlier..." Damien's head shot up and his eyes looked like two bright blue daggers. "C'mon dude the whole gym could practically here you two cat fighting. They almost had to turn the speakers up in the cardio room the way you two were going at it."<br />
"Yeah I bet everyone got a real good laugh at the gym rat and the drama queen going at it." Damien laughed.<br />
Kenny considered, "no the general consensus is that Gino's straight friend was going to beat the shit out of Eddie later in the parking lot..." He laughed.<br />
"Who's Gino's straight friend...?" Damien asked confused.<br />
Kenny looked at him for a long time obviously stunned at what he saw was an absurd question. "well you dude..."<br />
Damein gave a startled blink like someone having cold water thrown in his face, "me? Straight? Why the fuck would anyone think that?"<br />
Kenny looked at him with a realy blank stare, "Dude How could they think you're straight? How could they not? Every time you come in this gym you look about as happy as the queen of hearts with a garden full of white roses, scowling at everything in a tank top. You go out to gay clubs with gino...don't dance with ANYONE and then avoid his obvious passes all night. We all just assumed you were a straight boy."<br />
Damien was obviously floored by the statement. "Wow."<br />
"so your not straight?" Kenny asked unassuredly.<br />
Damien gave him a flat ice blue stare, "dude I'm out like a deaf kid playing musical chairs."<br />
Kenny let out a deep laugh and smiled, "well you'd never know it from the way you act, I mean granted you are a little over dramatic but the way you dress and walk around like all the boys around here make your teach grate sure sends the wrong message."<br />
"It's not an act, they all do make my teeth grate..." Damien answered sullenly and then the rest of Kenny's statement sunk in...."Hey! What do you mean over dramatic and what exactly is wrong with the way I dress?" He said standing and emphasizing every point with a pointed finger and twitch of his head.<br />
"Nothing dude." Kenny answered.<br />
"you know just because I don't have one of the Prime cut Gym bodies that you boys are sporting doesn't make me any less "Gay" then you carbon copy muscle boys and quite frankly I don't feel the need to adhere to the ridiculous stereo-type of the overtly muscular gay boy running around in a tank top and nothing else." He yelled.<br />
"I didn't say there was."<br />
"And further more, I do not feel the need to...pardon me?" Damien stalled realizing he was defending himself against nothing.<br />
"Damien don't let Eddie get to you. He's just one of those gay guys with a certain idea of how people, especially those with the predilection to suck dick, should look." Kenny tried to assure him.<br />
"I see, thanks ever so much for the advice Kenny, I'll just get back to my intellectual work since that is apparently all I'm fit to do." He sneered dismissing him with the hand that wasn't rubbing his temples.<br />
Kenny gave him a frustrated look and grabbed his elbow, "c'mere a minute storm cloud."<br />
"Kenny I'm realy alright I appreciate it I really do ...it's just..." Damien answered as Kenny pulled him out of the office chair.<br />
Kenny's more powerful Trainer body easily tossed Damien's light weight frame out of the office with little effort. "No but's, just move." He said good naturedly.<br />
Kenny spared him the embarrassment of being dragged across the Gym floor and just let Damien take up a silent following act. They passed by the juice bar where Tony gave Kenny a friendly nod and then abruptly made the sign of the cross when he saw Damien. Damien looked the ultra goreous Puerto Rican muscle boy dead in his luminous brown eyes, smiled to himself and focused his mind for a brief second. The blender in front of Tony Suddenly Jumped to life on it's own spilling protein shake all over his immaculate white Tommy Hilfiger Jump Suit. His rippling mocha muscles were now dripping mocha protien. "Aww shit!" he cursed.<br />
They continued through the Gym passing different muscle boys in various states of undress. "you'd think this Gym was on the Equator the way these guys dress," Damien mused.<br />
Kenny swung his head around, "they work out a lot Damien. Is it so wrong that they want to show off all their hard work. I mean dude these guys arent stupid, they no youth and beauty aren't going to last forever so why should they waste and cover it up while they have it?"<br />
Damien looked at him quizzically and then seem prepared to respond in some acidic statement but instead considered the statement and went back to rubbing his temple.<br />
They finally reached one of the back studio's and Kenny flipped on the light and shut the door. The room was a stark white and covered in mirrors with only a ballet bar to break up the reflective surface. Damien saw four mirror images of himself and the Hunky red headed trainer. "Wow Kenny, thanks I've never seen a dance studio before....now can I get back to my nap?"<br />
"In a minute, now Damien..." He pushed the younger man closer to the mirrors until he stood directly in front of his reflection, "tell me what you see."<br />
"I see myself," Damien answered brushing the question off.<br />
"of course you do, but I said tell me WHAT you see not WHO."<br />
Damien's eyes grew distant for a minute and he answered truthfully surprising even himself, "I see a kid with black hair...he's kinda thin, wearing a baggy shirt and a pair of dark pants." He answered.<br />
"What else do you see?" Kenny asked.<br />
"You."<br />
"You know what I see? I see a kid with a lot of potential." Kenny said with a good natured pat on Damien's shoulder.<br />
"Uh huh, whatever jane fonda."<br />
"No dude it's my job and you can look down on it as much as you like or at least pretend to, but I don't think what Eddie said to you this morning would bother you so much if it didn't hit a cord. Damien you are a gorgeous kid, you just need to start seeing yourself as a man. Not gay, not a kid, but as just another man. And be a little more comfortable with your body dude, not so uptight and serious."<br />
Damien seemed to ignore him, cocking his head slightly and looking at his reflection.<br />
"If you want some help getting in shape, I'd be gald to train you, no charge. If you just stop hiding those broad shoulders behind those baggy button down pattern shirts and start working out, you could have one massive upper body ..."<br />
Kenny droned on mentioning workouts he could do to build up his uper body and how he might want to buy smaller size clothing, not rely on skeens of fabric to cover him up. But Damien just stared at his reflection.<br />
"...I think you also might be covering yourself up with all that hair in your eyes and the baggy clothes because your uncomfortable feeling attractive...because your still uncomfortable with your own sexuality ....and I know this might sound like psycho babble but years in this field has taught me a couple things, guys like you generally have a bad attitude about muscle boys for two reasons: either they want to date one or they want to be one. And I've seen the way you brush off Gino on a regular basis so I know it's not issue number one....It's just something to think about." He said with a sweet little pat on the butt before exiting the quiet studio.<br />
Damein stared at the kid in front of him, The too baggy jeans cresting down his leg in waterfall of denim. The large shirt drowning his torso in flame and fabric. The dark black hiar hiding everything bu the glint of blue steel from his eyes. "they think I'm straight," he muttered.<br />
"After taking each one of these ultra alpha male straight men and through slight of hand making them into easy going queers they think I'm the straight one?" He grabbed his bangs and pulled them up against his head, exposing his sharp chin and broad jawline. "me? afraid to be gay?" but then he thought about it, whenever they were out in public Gino had no problem wearing only a tank top that said "porn King", were as he had to have at least three layers of Skater clothes to feel comfortable. Looking back all the guys he lived with and associated with were attractive comfortable Gay men, sure they were that way because Damien forcibly made them that way, but against that back drop of Prime perfect unashamed sexuality he must have looked like the straightest slacker kid ever.<br />
SO what was So different about the guys now? What was so changed that he now seemed to be the one holding back...I mean I've always been comfortable with being gay,...it was never an issue...but then again that's not what Kenny had said..."your uncomfortable with you Sexuality."<br />
Damien steeled his jaw and took of his shirt to reveal his pale, thin torso. He had the slight almost emaciated frame of a teenage boy wich was fine but at 20 one would have hoped all that milk would have payed off by now. "maybe that's the problem," damein thought. "I mean I came out but..." He looked at his lean frame with the ribs obviously sticking out..."but I didn't come UP." Eddie's taunting word of "you're a fat girl Damien..." echoed in his ears as the pounding in his head got worse.<br />
Damein put his head down and held his throbbing head for another second but when his eyes raised to the mirror again they were not the serene blue of contemplation but the grey blue of a calm before a storm. "say good bye to Sandra Dee boys..." he said to himself.<br />
He raised both of his bare arms to the side and closed his eyes.<br />
He stood motionless like that for a few minutes and then one by one the track lights of the studio blew like popping balloons until he was alone in the dark with only the shadows cast from the doorway and windows for light. In the dark the reflective surface of the mirrors seemed to run like water. The glass merging and rippling like an unquiet stream, gushing around Damein's scarecrow like form stock still in the center of the room. His blue eyes glowed an Iridescent saphire and he stared into the mirror and for the first time in his life Damien Cast a spell on himself.<br />
Magic's a funny thing. He had been using it to help everyone around him thinking that would be enough he had never used it for himself. He had always thought that that would be selfish...until now.<br />
He looked at the reflection in the churning waters of the mirror's surface until he saw the image he wanted to have reflected back, "Mirror, Mirror running fast, merging water in liquid glass, My truest wish I long to see, reflected back," He paused taking a strangled breath and quickly exhaling in fear. He clenched his fists and looked into his own grey ice eyes with quiet intensity.... " and into me." The water -mirror began to churn like a whirl pool and the mirror boy's dark countenance lit up with bright illumination from his own set of crystal blue eyes.<br />
I want to be a muscle boy. Damien finally admited to himself.<br />
The boy in the mirror smiled and grew. First the chest began to expand growing larger. The back flared out untill the shoulders sat on top of two large shelf like Lats, then his chest puffed up filling with muscle, the pec's jutting out firmly like two large breast plates made of ivory flesh. The shoulders rounded into well defined globes of muscle on either side of a wide neck framed by the bow of impressive traps. The already thin waist tapered and defined itself into a thin layer of pleasant belly flesh over a half visible 6 pack.<br />
The boy smiled at Damien and dropped his pants revealing a pair of baggy boxers that quickly began to fill with the girth of of his expanding thighs. The lightly covered legs erupted into two tear shaped tree trunks that ended in huge Diamond shaped calves. His glutes pushed out at the back exaggerating his already thin waist further by the size of the muscled ass.<br />
Damien looked at the dark reflection, "My, my my...."<br />
The boy in the mirror smiled back and blew him a kiss as his size seemed to fluctuate and resettle itself two inches taller then Damien. The Shoulders and frame expanded as well with a sudden readiness. Damien stood stunned as the image's frame changed. No longer was it muscle on Damien's slight Frame but someone elses frame altogether. The shoulder's spread wide and proud giving the look of a jock frat kid with too much gym time on his hands. The hieght and the wider frame made the boy...no the man... look like the Super man Version of Damien. The jaw expanded from the sharp angle to an impressively broad masculine Jaw line that looked like it was carved out of ivory.<br />
Damien considered the unsolicited changes and laughed a second, "That's nice but I don't want to seem ostentatious...." Waving his hands in an attempt to reform the first image.<br />
Instead to his surprise however the mirror man gave him a condesending look and shook his hand in a "oh no." way.<br />
Damien began backing away from the mirror in sudden fear.<br />
The mirror image pushed the long line of bangs away from his broad face and when his hand came down the long length of pretective facial covering that Damien had sported since the age of 13 was gone. In it's place was a spiky crew cut with jagged gelled bangs. The man flicked the tip of one short jagged bang edge and a whole strand turned electric blue.<br />
"now wait just a sec..." The man ignored Damien and made a disgusted face as he looked down at his round muscular marble body. Slowly the ivory pale skin that Damein had spent so many afternoons in university libraries cultivating began to shimmer with healthy first rosey then deep rich brown flesh. Every muscle glowed with intense virility as it was painted with the healthy brown of a beach bum or volley ball champ. The effect on the body was amazing. With just a little color the whole body seemed bigger, more sensual and mature.<br />
He stared in awe at the man before him. 6'2 and a definite 220 lbs the man was half bouncer, half dancer. He was a mix of crazy extremes. He had a frat boys shoulders and facial features, a body builders chest and arms...and the kind of powerful aquiline legs and ass one would find on a male dancer. He was exotically compelling.<br />
"hold on...I didn't do any of that..."<br />
"Brilliant kiddo- I can see all those student loans have really payed off, " the man in the mirror laughed.<br />
"Who are you...?" Damien stammered<br />
"Isn't it obvious? I'm your subconscious. I'm every little fantasy you ever had rolled into one very well presented package." He said smiling.<br />
He looked at the man with his porn star dimensions, "That's a bit overboard I only intended to..."<br />
"Do a half assed job! That's why I took over." The man snapped back. "look kid you've got great imagination but a very small, " He smiled padding the well packed boxers, "err...initatiative. Anything worth doing is worth doing the whole way. And believe me kiddo when I'm done we're going to be very worth doing." He smiled.<br />
Damien had had enough of this. he ignored my perverted image and began to work a dismissal spell, this entire thing had been a terrible idea.<br />
"Just what do you think your doing?" the mirror asked him. Only now the mirror me wasn't using Damien's quiet sarcastic tone. it was a broader, deeper much more mature intimidating bass, that dripped with an arch masculine rasp. "I'm not done yet." He stated.<br />
"oh but I think you are..."<br />
"Not quite Harry Potter, I've sat back for too long while you hid behind, those books, your intellect and your insecurities and now that I'm out...." He laughed a proud pointed chuckle, "I'm coming out!"<br />
Just as Damien went to throw up his slim hands, the mirror man's wide muscular arms went wide showcasing the definition in his lumpy triceps. The wide pec's expanded into two large wings of meat across his chest. "You might have a mind for magic and now it's time to get a body just as magical, kiddo."<br />
Was the room getting smaller?<br />
...NO!<br />
no he was being dragged closer to the mirror.<br />
"what the hell!?!" There have been few time in life when he was genuinely scared. Right now he was clawing at the air like a terrified child.<br />
"You just don't get it do you? You act like this is a bad thing..." He smiled. He snapped his fingers and began making his own way toward the surface of the Mirror. The snap of his hand sent heavy black shadows racing from his finger tips up his heavy ape like forarms. They settled in wide arcs of dark ink on his shoulders and left arm. Wide jagged designs of tribal markings adorned the heavy shoulders and accentuated the large softball shaped bicep.<br />
"oh jesus dude Tattoo's are for white trash..."<br />
"That's just what you told yourself because you knew you didn't have bod to pull it off baby... but I do." He answered. "and if your upset about the tattoo's...". He traced his thumb all the way down to his naval to reveal a belly button ring.<br />
"Aww Come on man you look like a stupid boy toy..." Damien spat, trying to cling to the air as he came face to face with the Hyde that was his Id.<br />
"Exactly, because underneath all that high talking intelligence your just like any gay boy your age handsome. You wanna look good and get laid. I'm just glad your finally ready to admit it." He massaged the flesh of his ass with the back of his hands. The wide expanse of shoulder muscles flexed with every move of his palms. "I mean it's not like you havent done this before right? Think of how much fun it's going to be to experience your special little gifts first hand..." that tone was unpleasant.<br />
"look this is fun and all but I'd like to get out of the twilight zone. I think I've finally crossed that line from over active imagination into insanity."<br />
The man looked down at him as Damine look up at him threw his bangs. Our Identical slightly angular crystal eyes met anf he fixed me with a wicked grin, "your about to cross align alright that's for damn sure." And then his heavy arms reached out from the watery depths of the mirror and pulled Damien with horrible force forward into his own spell.</div><div class="mindthegap">Their was the sound of both a huge crash and water spilling everywhere.<br />
<br />
<h3 class="chapter">Chapter 2</h3><div>I grabbed my head and steadied my gaze until I could stand.<br />
The studio floor was so wet the water was up to my god damn calves. Thank God I had a pair of No Fear Shorts on. They were the baggy style I usually work out in so they were only mildly soaked around the shimmery cuffs. I looked around in amazement as I realized that all the wall mirrors in the studio were gone. Just like fucking gone man! How bizarre is that? I had a vague memory of coming up here to work some of my Mumbo Jumbo but I didn't really recall any one particularly irking me today... I just wrote it off quickly as weird and waded my way to the door.<br />
As soon as I had exited the aquatic dance studio I noticed that my pants were dripping wet and for some reason I wasnt wearing a shirt. What the hell had I been doing? Jesus. This was worse then when I was in high school and drinking heavily. Well whatever I had been doinb I certainly couldn't wander around the gym looking like tom Hanks in "Cast away."<br />
I suddenly had a brilliant idea and hig tailed it to the locker room. By some miracle I managed to avoid everyone I knew and most of the gym patrons. I made my way to the staff lockers and found Gino's locker. I could just borrow some of his clothes, they'd be baggy but they'd be better then....And then I noticed the locker right next to Gino's. It had the name Damien on it...but I didn't....<br />
Why was I going to use Gino's clothes? I know I came here to do paperwork, but that doesn't mean I should be sitting around in my street clothes at the gym? I'll just throw on some of my workout gear....my work out gear? Why did that seem weird? Oh well. I opened the locker and grabbed some clothes and a pair of high tech running shoes. I slipped into a pair of No Fear Shorts that shimmered incandescent red and a wifebeater. The running shoes were black slip on's with red highlights. I remember I had bought them because they had good grip on the tread mills downstairs...but when had I done that....that's strange I can't really remember. I stepped away from my locker and over to the big mirror to inspect myself.<br />
Yep their I was. I know it's really tacky to admit to yourself how good looking you are so I wouldn't say I looked hot (Which I did) but I certainly was striking. The tight white matierial of the undershirt showed the narrowness of my waist while it exposed my road muscular shoulders. My tan made me look even bigger then I was behind the white clothe and my wide pec's strained against the fabric when I moved. All in all it was a nice effect. Yeah yeah I know gay boys and tank tops...but whatever man, no one ever mentions Girls and sports bra's do they? My tattoo glinted menacingly in the reflection but with a quick smile the whole bad boy effect was lost. Alright I look fine time to go face the world....<br />
"Hey Tall Dark and witty you feeling better?" I heard Kenny ask from behind me. I turned around and saw the older man leaning against the wall watching me appraise my intimidating young reflection.<br />
"Yeah I do," I said with another smile, and then rubbed my head, "but for the life of me I can't remember what was wrong with me...ha...."<br />
Kenny straightened up and considered what I said. Even though was about ten years older then me Kenny could still turn heads. I almost got a little hard while I watched him. His rugged good looks were offset by his light red hair. He wa wearing a tight red t shirt that made his already wide back look massive and his jogging pants were just enough to suggest the power and girth of his thighs, "You know what," he said honestly. "I can't remember either."<br />
I shrugged my big shoulders making my tattoo dance, "Neither do i...It must have been really important."<br />
He gave me that comforting older man smile and said, "be careful you don't want to be as bad as the other boys with their drama queen routines. Mark gets five calls a day from Tony and Eddie about everything from bad haircuts to too spicy chinese." He said reffering to his devoted boyfriend and his boyfriend's group of friends. I smiled thinking about ultra put together Kenny and big dumb Mark. Mark was such a sweet guy now but God was he dumb. Which was probably exactly what Kenny needed a gorgeous well intentioned mass of muscle that was totally dependant on him. Nice for Kenny but I'd hate to be Mark in that situation...I winced suddenly when I realized that I was the one who had put Mark in that particular position....oh well he had one the East Coast Heavy weight class last month...at least he was getting a trophy or something out of the deal.<br />
"you okay D? looks like your stomach just turned on you."<br />
"oh no Kenny I'm fine I just remembered that I have all that paperwork to do...I'lll talk to you later okay, maybe we'll work out together if you get a minute. I've been meaning to blast my chest."<br />
Kenny laughed and patted me on the back, "guys your age man, they all want those barrel chest, no matter how much I tell you, Tony and Eddie that your muscles aren'ts developed enough for that kind of growth you still..."<br />
"Ken, your lapsing into trainer speak, I can no longer understand you...." I smiled and waved goodbye as I returned to Gino's office.<br />
I sat plopped down and kicked my feet onto the desk top accidentally knocking a bunch of things to the floor. I mentally cursed at myself for beig so clumsy. Jeez you'd think I wasn't used to being careful because of my size. But I've always been such a big guy I was used to being careful...wasn't I?<br />
I bent over and picked up the discarded items from the floor. Pencils, paper's and a picture frame. I picked up the frame and was pleasantly surprised to find a picture of me and the other roommates with a caption underneath that read, "the boys". It must have been taken one night at the Waterloo when we were all their. I couldn't really place what night but that wasn't that odd I mean we're always their and I'm usually far to inebriated to remember anything much less flashing camera's. It was actually a really cute picture. Their was Red and Hank in the background looking for all the world like two uninterested guys out for a beer,with their button down shirts and kahki's. they looked almost identical except for Red's huge form and ..ugh..that hair. I had been begging him to cut it but he flat out refused and Hank was such a lovesick puppy that he actually told red he liked it.<br />
Gino was in the middle sporting his usual wide grin. His massive Italian body seemed to be busting out of his Red fireman tank top. His olive skin glistened with sweat and his hair was matted to his forehead. He had one heavy Arm around Brian, who was wearing a white t-shirt and Jeans. Classic. I'm sure Forman and Mark weren't far away or maybe this one of those nights the Brian snuck out on his own. Gino's other rested adoringly on my shoulder....I shook my head the picture seemed to blur for a second it seemed like Gino was reaching down to put a hand on my slim arm....And then there I was standing proudly shoulder to shoulder with the lummox wearing blue sleeveless shirt....<br />
"Hey he must've known we were coming" A light masculine voice said from behind me.<br />
"yeah he's already in position." Another laughed.<br />
I turned around quickly as Eddie and Tony giggled their way into the room. "afternoon girl's," I said as I stood up.<br />
"oh no don't get up because of us," tony jeered in his thick hispanic lilt, "I was just enjoyin the view. Although your ass doesn't have enough meat on it for me Chico...you got White boy ass..."<br />
",,,and you need some ghetto in your Booty, I know tony. I know." The three of us laughed and they sat down across from me.<br />
Eddie was blonde tan perfection and Tony was the swarthy dark compliment to it. both their bodies burst in beautiful well formed round perfection from their clothes and they both regarded me from behind flirtasiouc long lashes. I would probably be as hard as a rock if didn't know where the two of them had been, I mean it's fine to be friends with the party Sluts, you just don't want to trade fluids with them.<br />
"I had the best idea." Eddie announced in his typical bubble headed style.<br />
"save it you might need it later." I answered reflexively.<br />
I dodged the stapler he launched at my head as he continued, "I thought it would be great if the three of us went out tonight." He said smiling the self satisfied grin of young white youth.<br />
"You guys go out everynight? What's so special about me tagging along?" I asked as I looked over the figures in front of me.<br />
Tony jumped in quickly noticing that Eddie was loosing my attention, "because boo- what's it they say that get's people trippin' oh I got it- "when the at's away the mice'll play"."<br />
I looked up at the seductive muscle boys, "and what exactly is that supposed to mean?"<br />
"It mean's ASSHOLE, Gino's gone and this the perfect opportunity for the mouse to get some play." Eddie snapped as he fixed his hair in the reflection of the desk.<br />
"that doesn't mean anything, I perfectly able to go out even when Gino's here."<br />
There was a long pause and they both stared at me patiently as if I had just announced that I could fly. "whatever," I said dismissing it.<br />
"C'mon! eddie whined. "whenever we see you out your always attached to a bar stool..." eddie started.<br />
"...Or 240 lbs of Italian beef, This is your opportunity to have a good time OUR way." Tony finished.<br />
"I don't know..." I begged off, which is when they pounce.<br />
Eddie got up and began to rub my shoulders and Tony leaned down to look me in the eyes and give me a pout, "Look we need another hot guy to complete this whole Charlies angel vibe we got's goin on," he said splitting his sensual lips into an inviting smile. Eddie's munipulation of my shoulder's was starting to make my better judgment slip.<br />
"I dunno..." I said continuing to back slide.<br />
"Look Damien You need some vanity time while Gino's gone, just to make sure you still got it,I mean you don't spend all that time working out just to impress the other boys at the library do you?" Eddie sneered...<br />
Well that was True.<br />
"alright but I have to finish this work..."<br />
"huh?" they said in unison.<br />
"I have to finish crunching these numbers and then..."<br />
they both were already on their way out having gotten what they wanted. As they left Tony said, "Whatever man, But that's all you. I don't know how you can even concentrate on that triflin shit."<br />
Eddie Laughed making his big pec's bounce, "yeah guys our age are in their Sexual prime. I don't know about you but, I cant concentrate on anything except sex for like 5 minutes."<br />
Tony returned his laugh "Now you know that's True!"<br />
The door shut as he said it and my head kinda felt really fuzzy. I shook the sudden fog from my mind. Those guys are such hoes man. I thought to myself.<br />
I went back to the pages of Budgets and pay rates, but my mind didn't stay their long. For some reason I couldn't keep my mind off of how Tony's Luscious Puerto-rican ass Jumped up and down strainging against the fabric of his running shorts. I bet he wear's a thong. I could just imagine those big melon's of carmal flesh seperated by only a sliver of cloth and his slim muscled mocha thighs wrapped around my neck. His tight calves twisting around my shoulders....the silk and granite flesh of those masculine legs pressing against my ears....<br />
Damn!<br />
Focus Damien.<br />
I started to return to my work but for some reason all I good focus my mind on was the idea of hard bodies gyrating on a dance floor with all eyes on me.<br />
I grabbed my bomber jacket, threw the ridiculous busy work to the floor and ran off after the two muscle boys.</div><div class="mindthegap">The music was a thunder clap of a thousand different vibrations. The air itself shook with the intensity of the hard pounding trance rhythm of the club. It was this sound that greeted the three young men as they sauntered like proud and hungry tigers onto the club floor. Eddie was wearing his best pair of jeans wich were of course a three hundered dollar pair of already used and written on faded denim. Damien thought for that much money he should have just left his niece with a marker and a pile of dirt alone in a room with a pair of Jordache. His short was of course Abercrombie and Finch, a tight sleeveless number that miraculously somehow made him look less like a flaming queen and more like your average twentysomething.<br />
Tony opted foe the Janet Jackson look. His dark rimmed yes were hidden behind some thick grey, and he wore midnight denim from head to toe.<br />
Damein opted for the more mature look with a cut-off shirt and rave pants...alright so we all kind of looked like twentysomethings trying to regain lost youth.<br />
We Danced all night and the more attention I got the better I liked It. There was nothing but me and all that attnetion. But something was missing. I couldn't place it. I was out. I looked good. Was having fun. But...still nothing. These men couldn't get me hard. They were useless.....What was wrong with me.<br />
I turned to Eddie and told him I was ready to go, out of bordom, he gave me an irritated look, and paused from his intense gyrating dancing "c'mon Damien stop being such a cock block' you know your just a horny slut like the rest of us"<br />
I barely heard tony in the back ground yell, "True that!"<br />
I felt my whole center of gravity change for a second and suddenly I wasn't wearing my rave pants and ripped t- I was shirtless with a pair of low riding jeans that showed off the band of my gleaming white... jock strap! Holy shit! What were those on my nipples...rings holy fuck what was...<br />
And then it was there, there was a large mans hand on the width of my cock covered in denim and I could feel his rigid staff pressed roughly against the crest of mass. His hot sweat hands fumbled across the spce of mass and I leaned back into his thrusting hips hungrily.<br />
I danced like that from man to man for what seemed like hours. Letting them touch me, feel me, own me.<br />
Man after man groped and pulled at me. thrust their tongues in my hungry mouth, fondled my cock while I laughed stupidly high on the euphoria of ther attnention. I don't know how long I was passed along through the club like a humpy party favor but it all didn't break until I found myself on my muscled hand and knees getting ready to go down on this circle of guys like a circus seal...<br />
And then there was a commotion in the crowd. Gino came running through with Gabe close at his heals.<br />
"what the hell is going on?" he yelled.<br />
"I thought you were on business. "I replied Saucily.<br />
"I got a call that I had to handle some here." And he gave Gabe a knowing look, there was a rat.<br />
"yaeah so I'm out having fun..." Damein answered.<br />
Gino grabbed him and spun him around, "look I don't know what kind of game you are playing here, but you just can't walk in and change someone's life and act like nothing happened....there stuff between us and if..."<br />
"Gino" Damein whispered al little frightened..."You're hurting me...."<br />
Gino gave him a dark look, "Yeah well you've been hurting me for a long time. You avoid my attention, you run off with these guys..." he was getting redder and redder, "You won't even kiss me but your ready to go poro on this dance floor for a bunch of nameless party cocks? What the fuck is wrong with you. Why won't you just admit the truth!"<br />
"what do you want from me..." Damien yelped...<br />
"I want the truth," he demanded...<br />
"You can't handle the truth!" I roared back.<br />
"No mother fucker YOU CAN'T"<br />
Damien laughed and shouted angrily...""I PUT A SPELL ON YOU!" And then it seemed like there was a crash of lightening and a thunder clap inside Damien's mind and he fell to the floor...<br />
In the dim lights of his fading consiounce he could here gino say "that's all I needed to hear, baby..."<br />
Everyone around them turned but Gino just ignored them and lead Damien off the floor<br />
<br />
<h3 class="chapter">Chapter 3 </h3><div>"My head kind of hurts" Dmaien said as he swayed back and forth for a few minutes. Gino Held him steady. "My Head hurts real bad dude."<br />
"I'll bet it does." Gino replied calmly.<br />
"What happened to me...."<br />
Gino looked down at him with his benign smile "Nothing dude It's just that spell I cast on you got a little tangled up. It's no big deal man...It all worked out for the best- Your fine. Barely a scratch on you."<br />
"The What you did on who?" Damein asked shaking His head.<br />
"Well your probably not going to like this but uhm.... I have somethin real big I have to tell you baby and uhm....it ain't gonna be easy to take- I put a spell on you," he said shyly holding onto the sides of his baggy jeans like a chastised Child.<br />
"What...." Damien stuttered...<br />
"Well I Kind of went through some of your things and I found this potion spell...that would make the person who drank it see the truth...... But I guess I did it wrong...cause it wasn't supposed to change you..." he fumbled.<br />
It all suddenly began to make sense. "Kenny's pep talk my transformation into the ultimate me... and then the deterioration from there...everyone had been telling me what they saw as the truth..." Damein muttered as his head spun toward clarity</div><div class="mindthegap">...and the spell made me believe them. Instead of finding my own truth. Or maybe the Spell made me realize that even my truth wasn't the real thing, just my skewed perspective of it... like looking at something through a kaleidoscope and trying to make out the shape of an object.</div><div class="mindthegap">"you see," he continued slowly, "I wanted you to realize you loved me...you kept running from me all the time, I just thought if you could admit it to yourself then you could get rid of all your guilt about the magic thing and we could..." he trailed off."<br />
"Oh shit." Damein mumbled trying to make the swimming in his head stop.<br />
And then the moment stopped and he saw the truth but not the way Gino had intended.</div><div class="mindthegap">His eys seemed to grow a thousand times wider and the blue widened until it was two sparkling pools of black crowned with the barest hint of my blue grey...<br />
I was feeling the full affect of the spell...I could see the truth...all of it.<br />
Somewhere beyond logical thought and between my reality and everyone elses there was the Truth...that I loved Gino...I don't think I was in love with him. But I think it was sa close as I had really ever come to it...<br />
And looking back into those two big pools of his I realized he loved me too...<br />
And then the real truth hit me and I shook so hard I thought I was going to die. Gino grabbed me hard to steady me and I could feel the contents of my stomach heave inside of me in the revulsion at my own revelation.</div><div class="mindthegap">He clutched my shaking hands in his big Paw, "But everything's going to be fine now, because im here and We're going to work through this...I'm sorry," he almost begged.</div><div class="mindthegap">He was such a good man.<br />
Such a loving, honest and dedicated man.<br />
I Saw the Truth.<br />
And I knew I could no longer tell myself anymore lies. And the moment began again...</div><div class="mindthegap">Damien put one big hand on Gino's chest affectionately and rubbed the inside of shaking Italian Mit with his finger tips wistfully. "You're one of the best men I've ever known Gino...Your Kind, confidant, intelligent and sometimes I look in those big eyes and I see so much of what's good in human kind it hurts..." he dropped both hands and clutched them tightly at his sides. "But I can't stay here with you...like this...."<br />
"What!" Gino Yelled. "I said I was sorry, please Damein I never meant to..."<br />
"But I did!" he answered back sadly with his head down. "I did all this, all this magic all this manipulation...I was arrogant and wrong." He looked up quietly at Gino's stressed almost red rimmed eyes, "and now I have to put it right."<br />
"no! I know all about what you did, how you changed me and Eric and Brian and all the others and I don't care! Do ya here me I don't! I'd much rather stay this way, I'm happy as a gay man, we all are...we've all been able to find love and happiness...I wouldn't be the kind, intelligent example of humanity that you say I am if it wouldn't have been for you..." He yelled angrily.<br />
Damien's crystal eyes blazed iridescent blue rage and he grabbed Gino's arm..."Yes you would have, don't ever underestimate yourself...the way I underestimated you. It's been three years Gino...Three years..You could have grown so much in those three years...except I moved in and pushed you with my hocus pocus and all my self absorbed pseudo-help."<br />
"So you're just going to make us all straight again huh?" he barked.<br />
Damien laughed a little..."No I'm just going to put the control back in everyone's hands...The only Choice I have is to give you all back the choice. I think most of you all would have realized your belligerent ignorance about us queers was because of your own Homo-erogenous issues...and given time you would have realized it yourself...it was wrong of me to steal that from you all because I felt that I knew better."<br />
Gino paused for a second and then looked up with a blank expression, "But I think I'm in love with you."<br />
"I know...and I know I'm in love with you...but I'll never be able to trust it...because at the back of my mind it will always just be another spell.... And maybe you could live with me, knowing all of this... but after tonight I can't live with myself."<br />
"There's nothing I can say?" he asked sadly.<br />
"No...just goodbye I suppose...but it's not like either of us will remember it."<br />
"Alright then..." Gino took one big hand and grabbed Damien by his waist and pulled him close up tight until their foreheads touched and they stood angled into each other's eyes. "I don't care how much you wave a fucking magic wand...I won't ever forget this..." he stroked Damien's cheek with one leathery thumb and pressed his lips firmly into the other man's waiting mouth. One huge arm grabbed him and held him tight as the other held the smaller man's jaw with a shaking hand. Gino pressed his entire wait into Damien as Damien gave himself up to the heroic embrace. Gino Held Damien as if he were trying with his mammoth hulking form to some how shield him from the terrible choice he had made.<br />
The kissed lasted both moments and years, each man absorbing all he could of the others presence until finally Damein slipped from Gino's grasp like water.<br />
He stood back and watched as two tears steamed down the dimpled olive skinned cheeks...<br />
Damien smiled a long tragic sigh and gave the big lout one last beaming chin up smile. "Thank you."<br />
Gino looked up startled..."for what?"<br />
"For Helping me find myself...I started out on this whole little errand thinking all was going to do was teach a bunch of straight jocks a lesson by making them into gay wet dreams...but I didn't realize that they were people...not concepts; the jocks and the wet dreams... I was wrong. I thought all along it was about changing all of you...but it was really about changing myself not just physically," he said as he watched with facinatio at the movements of his muscled arm, "But mentally too, if I had it all to do again...I might have done it differently......Goodbye Gino........" he convulsed in a long shudder of pain... "goodbye..."<br />
His hands swooped up like lightening and the air seemed to crackle with unseen energy. Damien closed his eyes and pictured his room in his mind, the piles of magic texts, his notebooks and all his varies arcane equipment. A memory of a far off world accord to him...of the young boy who quietly read his thick books while the other kids laughed and carried on during High school lit. Class. He saw the timid younger version of him quietly isolated reading dusty old fiction and dreaming away the day when he would be able to teach all these kids a lesson.<br />
"From Shakespeare to Necromancy...what a leap," he said sadly. "Sorry pal...you'll thank me later."<br />
But the memory did more then make him realize the error of his intentions it made him remember the perfect spell to break all his enchantments...<br />
"This Rough magic<br />
I here abjure, and when I have required<br />
Some heavenly music...which even now I do,<br />
To work mine end upon their senses that<br />
This airy charm is for. I'll break my staff,<br />
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,<br />
And deeper then did ever plummet sound" He paused for a moment thinking of Gino's tear rimmed eyes...and then steadied himself.<br />
"I'll drown my book..."<br />
In the far reaches of Damein's mind's eye he struck a match and dropped it onto the dusty tomes. They lit up like fireworks at the break of dawn. The world lurched beneath him and his vision became a carousel like view of swirling colors in a maelstrom around him. As the fire blazed he lost his tenuous control on the energy he had invoked and gave himself up onto the tempest.</div><span class="milestone">* * *</span> <br />
<div>As the books blazed in the background he could see Red and hank crawling into their large bed both tired and talking about their day. They both paused as they reached for their identical bedside lamps and suddenly turned to each other, "Eric...," Hank asked using Red's real name for the first time, "Yeah,"<br />
"Do you ever wander what it would have been like if we would have never met"<br />
Eric paused considering the question, "Yeah but then I usually start shivering and thanking God I know you're waiting for me at home...." Hank smiled and rolled closer to him.<br />
The room blurred for a second and when the vision cleared it was still Red and hank in their bed but now it was a much nicer room with better furniture and antiques. The two men in the bed were still both hairy bodybuilder's but Red's face was no longer the exaggerated masculinity of the trucker he was. No, Eric's clean-cut looks replaced them and he finally had a decent haircut. His crewcut was short and neat.<br />
"What time do you have to work," hank mumbled, as Eric attacked him with hungry lips.<br />
"Same as usual 6am...Gotta get to the office before Patricia or she won't let it go all day." Eric smiled.<br />
"You make a good team," hank pointed out.<br />
"I know but we make a better one." And with that the vision swirled into a tumble of blankets and hairy muscular legs...</div><div class="mindthegap">Damien smiled to himself a quick quiet smile, "So Eric decided to keep hank but return to the Office...I would never have guessed...At least he fixed that God damn hair..."</div><div class="mindthegap">Again he tumbled through the kaleidoscope of color, now he was in Gabriel and David's Salon. Gabriel was busy cutting David's already tight hair into a close fade. "Just sit still will you!"<br />
"I can't," Dave's rich voice boomed back, "You keep rubbing up against me." He pinched the smaller Latin man on his big ass to emphasis his point.<br />
"Ya so I guess you like my Ass beta then Gotie's"<br />
"Who?"<br />
"You know Gottie my ex-girlfriend."<br />
"oh her..." Gabe paused and put down the shaver..."Do you still think about her often?"<br />
"Not really. Every now and again..."<br />
"Oh..."<br />
David pulled gabe's lithe frame into the crook of his massive spread thighs and stroked his arm, "just because I regret something doesn't mean I'd change a damn thing...It's a shame what happened between all of us...but she would have just got hurt in the long run. Let her find some man to really love her... the way I found one to love me..."<br />
They kissed.</div><div class="mindthegap">The room switched to a dirty kitchen. To large frames hulked beside the kitchen cabinets in the shadows... they were large and naked and the sounds of heavy passion rung through the air like the barks of wild animals.<br />
Their was a crash...the sound of a dish breaking and then..."goddammit." That was Forman's voice...Brian's Football coach.<br />
"Ya know what we need around her'a? Mark's tough Alabama accent questioned back.<br />
"a slaveboy?" Forman offered...<br />
"No you pig!"<br />
"hey you're the cop!"<br />
"Shut-up coach we need a dishwasha so's we don have all these damn dirty dishes around." Mark snapped back,<br />
"oh...that makes sense... but I'd still like a slaveboy..."<br />
"That's disgusting Forman, now shut up and turn around...already...."</div><div class="mindthegap">Damien shook his head as the scene changed again the motion making him mildly seasick..."what was going on? Where was Brian wasn't that his scenario...shouldn't he be with Forman and Mark...or maybe the spell worked the way Damien intended and Brian had decided to return to his old life.... Good for him.</div><div class="mindthegap">The crowded dance floor of the waterloo came into frame and Damien could see the boys from the gym clustered in a laughing circle. They looked at each other with their glasses raised. Jarod was sporting a broad smile as he hugged Eddie's giggling frame hard to his Jean and leather encased body.<br />
Mark, Tony and Kenny fell on top of each other with laughter and from the crowd of men Deana strode with a confidant smile. "I told you that's what the Tattoo says and that what the tattoo said!"<br />
Tony laughed the hardest and the longest as he patted Deana's back; "Good work Deana!"<br />
"What does it say" mark questioned tearing himself away from his lover Kenny's eyes.<br />
"neva you mind connan, that's a secret between me and half the population of this city." Deana answered back.<br />
Tony laughed and gave her a pat on the head, "Now Deana you may play that tramp riff with everybody else but we know the real deal."<br />
Deana gave a sweet little smile "shhhh don't give away all my secrets...but half the city has seen that tattoo on my ass," she turned quickly to Mark and explained, "I decided to moon channel 12 at the last pride parade." They all giggled.<br />
"You know what I think," Jarod's heavy voice intoned as he rubbed eddie's adorant shoulders.<br />
"what?" Eddie asked.<br />
"I think you should get my name tatooed on your thigh." Jarod said leering.<br />
Eddie nodded his head dumbly, "Yeah you're right and after that I should let you brand me with a hot iron...maybe something tasteful like "pussyboy" or "cockholster"." Eddie Gave Jarod an irritated smack on his big leg.<br />
The bigger man smiled and leaned into Jarod with his huge hairy chest and gave the smaller man a tender squeeze, "it was just a thought."<br />
"Look baby," Eddie said turning around suggestively with one of his eyes crooked, "I can deal with a little rope burn and you ripping most of my clothes to shreds every time you get a hard on...but the first time you even think of putting a collar on me you're going to find out how significantly worse this bitch's bite is then his bark."<br />
"Point taken." Jarod laughed and pulled Eddie into a tight kiss.<br />
Kenny looked up from their revere of looking in each others eyes and turned to look at the crowd. "uhm I'm glad you guys are all here, since you all are our closest friends and we want to share this with you."<br />
They all looked at Kenny and Mark intently. Both were dressed in crisp J. Crew shirts and slacks that hugged their frames like wet clothe. Kenny in his dark navy button down that made his excellent figure look devastatingly debonair and Mark in his big white turtle neck that made him seem almost impossibly more huge. "we just want you all to know so that you don't find out from anyone else but..."<br />
"HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THAT ROCK!" Eddie exclaimed pulling up one of Mark's massive paws to showcase the large emerald set in a wide band of platinum.<br />
Kenny then exposed the same ring on his own hand but garnished with a large ruby.<br />
"We just decided to do it for us...it's not like we're going to have a ceremony on the beach or anything...it's just so we both know that..." Kenny fumbled embarrassed<br />
"We're together...for life." Mark finished putting one massive arm around his lover and giving him a confidant look in the eye.<br />
"That's great." Eddie and jarod intoned at the same time.<br />
"Hell yeah!" Tony shouted.<br />
"AWWW You're his Lobster!" Deana cheered.<br />
"Huh?" they all said turning to her confusedly<br />
"Well you see lobsters mate for life and on this episode of friends Phoebe......."</div><div class="mindthegap">Love, Friends and a place to hang out...maybe all this wasn't so misguided...</div><div class="mindthegap">And again the world was spinning beyond his control his view coming in and out of scenes until settling on a busy television set with people running everywhere and camera's rolling on a highly lit stage. On the stage four extremely atrative young men sat in almost identicle outfits of denim and polo shirts answering questions posed by an overtly perky woman in far too much pastel<br />
"...and you all don't feel that your openness about your homosexuality is going to hurt your career?" the woman asked happily as if she asked them for their favorite cookie recipe.<br />
The tall dark haired one seemed to pull forward and answer the question before the other four men had a chance. "well you see Gayle, We're trying to help young gay men more then we are trying to gain acceptance in the music industry..."<br />
The woman looked confused an expression she was probably accustomed to. "I don't quite get your...point."<br />
"you see young men today are taught through the mainstream media and the Gay community itself is that the only way you can be accepted and feel good about yourself is if you party all the time take a lot of drugs and sleep around and do everything you can to achieve that."<br />
The young blonde man sitting next to the very intelligent and verbal slim brunette cleared his throat and the tall man automaticly differed to the cute little guy, "their's a lot more to being a man in the gay community and we want to expose the enxt generation of young men to those positives instead of re-inforcing negative body and lifestyle images. We're all not drag queens, porn kings and drug addicts...and you don't have to be either." He looked to the dark haired companion and gave his neck a familiar almost affectionate squeeze..."there's a lot more to being gay then that."<br />
The other three men agreed in a loud chorus.<br />
The perky pants suit returned her gaze to stage right and looked directly into one of the lens aimed at her, "Well there you have it the 5 out and proud members of "U'VE Got MALE" on their recent success and on their lives! Don't miss their live performance of their latest single after we come back from this short...."</div><div class="mindthegap">Spinning and more spinning, The scene was gone the colors began to blur into a hot white nonsense that pulled Damien an all sides. His head began to throb and for a moment he was sure he saw two men in a rowboat pass by and a rooster perched on a white picket fence zing passed his head.<br />
The terrible vortex pulled tighter and tighter untill their was nothing left but tension and white light. Damien became so intrenched in the storm of energy he could no longer tell where it began and where he ended.<br />
And then nothing.<br />
Just black and Damien alone.<br />
Nothingness everywhere.<br />
A void so large to cast shadows on every part of his body but so small that he felt completely isolated in the emptiness.<br />
"Well this sure as hell isn't kansas....FUCK!" he sweared.<br />
"I thought you had decided to for go all those Gay Stereotypes from now on..." an urbane voice asked from behind him in the fathoms of darkness.<br />
"that's not a gay comment anyone who just experienced that would have made a Dorothy reference man." He answered back automatically.<br />
He could make out the vague figure of a man advancing toward him at a slow stroll, "Point taken," the man agreed in a good natured tone.<br />
"uhm...not that I don't love the minimalist motif but uhm where am I?" Damien asked with mild fright.<br />
The figure continued it's Sunday stroll toward him almost close enough to make out the face, "I think the better Question is... where aren't you?"<br />
"Oh christ this is going to end up one like one of those irritating Chaos theory discussions about infinity and the non-existence of time as a linear structure isn't it." Damien whined.<br />
"no," the figure answered back, "That's just my evasive and mystical way of telling you nothing and also politely telling you not to ask again."<br />
"ah I get it, thanx for the honesty, I appreciate the truth."<br />
"I'd hope so after all that you've been through." And then the figure stepped into the light and damien jolted back in shock.<br />
"Brian!" Before him stood the college jock who he had changed into a happy leather boy. But now it seemed like a different Brian more mature and intelligent. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans that hugged his athletic beefy form.<br />
"not exactly,' the man said with a smile.<br />
Damien Crouched down in a tight huddle unable to recognize what was going on. "What's going on..." he bayed unable to process the entire situation.<br />
"Well that's another one of those complicated questions dude, but if you really want the answer..." The Brian figure answered speculatively.<br />
"I think I deserve one." Damien demanded.<br />
"yeah I suppose you do." The other man laughed, "you see Damien..." Damien's head shot up because the voice had changed and suddenly mark stood before him but as he was originally, mousey brown hair, glasses and all. "We had to test cha pal." Mark leaned down and patted Damien's shoulder.<br />
"mark..." Damien groaned, "now I'm really confused."<br />
"bare with me here killer. I'm not Mark either...or I was...but that's not the point...okay here we go and pay attention because if I have to repeat it, you'll really be confused. " The figure that looked like Mark raised it's hand and pointed toward a space in the inky blackness. The dark cleared and then their was a clear picture of Damien with all his books on the occult and magic, studying diligently and putting his knowledge of his Art to use. "ya see Chief you were a child prodigy from the beginning and even though the majority of people think magic is something produced Via blue screen and computer animation by george lucas, you and I know it's something quite different."<br />
Then mark looked down at Damien, "And we both know how dangerous that kind of power is...and in the wrong hands...well I don't have to tell you."<br />
- The scene changed again and Damein studying became Damien having a drink with his friend's Stacey and mark over what seemed like aeons ago...<br />
"It's just not Fair" Mark whined into his beer, "They're Assholes!"<br />
"Yes, Yes they are," the image of me replied<br />
"It's Ok Mark you can stay with me till you find a place," Stacey said as she gave him a big hug. It was a Kodak moment.<br />
"They were all my friends, but when they found out I was gay... They all went crazy. Gino through me against the wall and Brian was ready to kick my ass."<br />
"So they kicked you out? I guess that means they'll be looking for a new roommate?" I asked him.<br />
Both Stacey and Mark stared at the me in the scene in horror. "I'm not looking for a better deal on the rent. I just think someone ought to teach your buddies a well deserved lesson."<br />
Stacey said worriedly, "What are you gonna do Damien."<br />
"What good is being a major in ancient religious philosophy with a focus on the occult, if you can't put it in to practical use?" the dark smile I gave her made me shiver.<br />
"What are ya gonna do, put a curse on them?"<br />
I put my long black coat on and left the table, and saw Stacey call after me, "Or turn em into frogs"<br />
I opened the door to the bar and turned around and met her eyes, with my ice blue "not... frogs..."-</div><div class="mindthegap">"and so your test began...We wanted to see how you'd play out the little scenario..." the figure answered back but now it was Stacy's light sweet tone. I looked up and their stood my old friend with her sweet defiant glare.<br />
"and of course your repressed desperate libido went automatically for..."</div><div class="mindthegap">-the scene changed to the house I had so come to love, Gino strolled in all pissed off. His dark hair was matted under his ball cap, and he looked messy like he was rolling around. He wore a big parka but had it hung open wide so as to let the wife-beater T-shirt that hugged his muscled torso be exposed. His big somewhat hairy pec's were tightly encased in the thin white cotton and his gold name chain, glittered against his sweaty olive skin. I squinted at his bulging chest and could just make out the imprint of his very big round nipples, and began to get hard. I looked at his big baggy jeans and absently wandered what kind of legs he had. Probably big muscled thighs covered with dark leg hair, and even those wide jeans couldn't hide his obvious spectacular bubble but. The band of his boxers peaked ostentatiously over his belt and I thought how sad it was that he wore those and not something more erotic. I thought about how big his cock was and what it would be like to suck on that big Italian meat, listen to his big masculine voice beg for more, beg to be fucked. The baggy boxers and baggy jeans however awkwardly called attention to the massive erection that was making a circus tent on his crouch.-</div><div class="mindthegap">"You went right to that like Catnip" The stacey figure laughed.<br />
Then the Scene Changed as Gino did. He went from hard as nails mean as Itlain thug to totally shaved peroxide club boy blonde. He saw Gino giving head to some gorgeous man at the gym, and then returning in the ostentatious pair of red lycra boots...<br />
"Oh God, I'm such a pig..." Damien groaned.<br />
"moderately yes," stacey answered back.<br />
"and then of course their was, Gabe and David." And then stacey was Allanna with her long braids caressing her shoulders " I thought your little hex on them was particularly cute..."<br />
He watched as Gabe and David turned from hard ghetto players to two loving compassionate men completely devoted to each other.<br />
Damine looked back at Allanna finally making a very important connection, "Hey if you...whoever you are were pretending to be all these people this entire time then...how did...I mean... did everything happen..or was it all a...I mean you couldn't be both...is stacey... I mean....area alll those..."<br />
Allanna looked at him with irritation and bemusement, "What an articulate little guy you are, jeez Regis Philbin doesn't have a lick on you mr. Vocabulary. No all of it was real and I really didn't actually become these people...I just kind of borrowed them to keep an eye on you and to further the test from time to time..."<br />
Then Hank's booming voice echoed in his ears "You know, I think it might have been with Eric that you started to go to far..." Hank's big hand waved in front of the image mirror, and he saw Eric descend from everything he was to everything he hated.<br />
"but it think some of your best work might have been those corporate sharks that were giving your heart throb such a hard time." Now the figure was no longer Hank's burly masculine frame but Kenny's muscled lithe athletic form. He watched each of the four offenders change from thirty something jaded miserable martini bar barracuda's into carefree fun loving club and gym kids.<br />
"I didn't really understand the whole Club thing though," the figure admitted in Deana's bawdy bravado, "but then I realized you were trying to help not only those boys but that sweet girl to." The boys of Rancid freshened up before his eyes into the crisp clean good hearted young men that they could have been.<br />
Deana looked at Damien's floundering form before her, "It was quite amazing...with each test you both passed and failed. You would use your powers to subvert someone elses destiny but you always gave them a silver lining never letting them be beyond happiness. In your own twisted machiavellian way you managed to give all of them true love. You made Gabe and David realize that they're friendship was way more then platonic. You lead Eric to Hank...the true love he would have never found on his own. Gave Eddie to Jarod, Mark to Kenny and tony..." Deana laughed to herself a little, "I don't think tony is ever going to be ready to pair...off even if he was gay or even straight but that remains to be seen..."<br />
"I don't get any of this..."<br />
"It's magic dimwit." Deana Spat. "We can't allow any idiot who can read a book on Elemental invocation and spell casting to go running around like halfcocked." She let out an uncomfortable cough, "so to speak, anyway Once you demonstrate enough knowledge and Art to bring you to our attention we set up a period of testing...to make sure you were worthy to proceed to the next step. It's pretty interesting that all your successes are failures as well. But it was the real test that you failed."<br />
"hey I didn't force Gino to love me I broke that spell!" Damien retorted defensively...<br />
"yes and had that been the only part of your test you would have passed. but that wasn't all of your test, that however may just be what saved your sorry ass in the end."<br />
"Hey wait a minute" Damien answered back, looking Deana in her lovely over done sparkled eye shadowed eyes. "What about Brian? I did some horrible stuff to Brian...and to mark to..."<br />
Deana gave him a shadowy mysterious grin, and then with a forboding look said, "or at least you thought you did.." she paused, "this is where things get really murky...this is another one of those things if I repeat, won't make any sense...you see Damien technically you are Brian...or at least you could have been Brian..." Deana began to taper off...<br />
"WHAT?" Damien snapped. "me and Brian yeah right we are nothing alike..."<br />
"Really describe Brian in three words."<br />
Damien thought about it, "Arrogant, narrow minded and mean."<br />
"Now think of how you started this whole thing.... How you were when you moved into that house and what you had planned for those poor boys before you even got to know them.... You were Arrogant to think it was your place to teach them a lesson, narrow minded belieiving you were right and making no attempt to find out the motivations beneath their actions and mean well... you set out to break Gino's heart, make Eric into everything he hated and then Brian...poor Collared and humiliated Brian...."<br />
"Hey I had good intentions! I only wanted to let them walk a mile in someone else's shoes." He sad sitting up and beginning to defend himself against the character attack.<br />
"Which paved your way to hell nicely. Did it ever occur to you in your narrow minded queer way that perhaps underneath all these men were actually gay and trying to come to terms with it. And that Mark's ostentatious flamboyance made them uncomfortable not because of the simple "I Hate Fags because That's Gross" but was instead "I Hate Fags cause I think I might be one." Deana said patiently.<br />
"oh shit...You gotta be kidding."<br />
Deana gave him a long steady look and then soundly smacked him on an up sweep across his head. "You've changed Men Physically and mentally, rearranged time, undid it all and are now conversing with a mysterious shape shifting precsence in a limbo like space beyond reality AND NOW YOU GET IT TOGETHER TO HAVE DISBELIEF ISSUES!!!"<br />
Damien rubbed his aching head, "sorry..."<br />
"These guys would have probably come to these conclusions on their own given time but you interfered..." she gave him as soft pleasant look then.... "however instead of the egomaniacal punishment you seemed to want to give them you've shown all these men what they're gay side looks like and helped them evolve to a deeper sense of love and selfrespect..."<br />
"Oh wow... are you oprah? Because only Oprah talks with all that sentimental deeper love and self respect gibbirish and I've always had this sneaking suspision that God was a wise black woman..." He asked the figure.<br />
"there's the acidic smart ass I've come to know and love" the buxom apparition said sweetly and then kicked him firmly in the ass with one pointed shoe. He yelped and she sighed contentedly, But since you sought to show all these supposedly "straight" men what they're gay doppelgangers looked like... we gave you a little peek at what your straight side looks like."<br />
And then the figure was again Brian, There stood in all his glory Mr. Athlete. His hard one muscle and thickly built body stared back at Damien's own.<br />
They stood their, now looking for all the would like two sides of the same coin. Damein had all but forgot the spell he had cast long ago in front of the mirrors. But now he was startled at how much the body he had made for himself with Magic and force of will was the body that Brian had made over years of high school sports, college athletics' and intense training... Brian's Broad Shoulders spanned the impressive width of Damien's new body's. Brian's heavy chest protruded just as far. It was eery.<br />
"you see this is how all your characteristics in a strait man's body would have manifested themselves...." He flexed one brawny football bicep, "instead of fearing for team sports because of your weight or because of fear of the more aggressive other boys you would have funneled all that impressive energy into an athletic career that would have made you into an Athletic powerhouse. You would have excelled at sports in puberty instead of hiding behind your intellect and subsequently never cultivated the intellect that eventually would have made you the man you are today..."<br />
"So if I hadn't been gay I would have..." Damein trailed off startled at how his improved face and heavy jaw line were even identicle to Brian's.<br />
"you would have probably had a very nice run on a local college ball team and eventually settled down to breed with a nice young like minded woman however you were an insecure gay boy who hid instead in books... just turns out you found the right books..." Brian said with a knowing look.<br />
Damein considered the probability that born under different circumstances he could see how his personality would have mirrored Brian's own. "oh christ that's a disturbing thought."<br />
Damien looked at Gino for a minute, in startled silence. "Is it really? Because the only way Gino could love you is if you had both qualities."<br />
"What?" he asked stunned to see Brian suddenly become the man he thought he had seen for the last time...when he gave him up.<br />
"Don't be niave you knew yourself that Gino wasn't going to go in for some little drama queen looking to make trouble with the big chip on his shoulder" Gino looked at him with soft eyes, "you knew Gino deserved better then you kiddo...So you changed yourself into the MAN that you thought deserved his love. Both mentally and Physically..." Gino faded into Brian again. Damien almost reflexively reached out to the dissolving form of the big Italian man he had somehow fallen in love with..."With Brian's body and dedication to physical superiority, combined with the heart and intelligence of Damien you were finally able to admit your love for him. That's the only way it would have worked..."<br />
"No," Damien admitted..."even in the perfect body...I still would have never been able to trust Gino's love for me...I would have always worried that it was my Magic that made him gay and that had made him love me......"<br />
Brian Gave him a hard look "And that's why you're here right now..." he paused his expression growing dark..."you see, had you been fool enough to try and keep Gino...left all the spells together and admitted fault in none of your magics..." the threat in his tone of voice was clear...something bad could have happened...something very bad.<br />
Damien looked down and scuffed one big foot. "wow so I guess I pass your test...lucky me."<br />
"Don't get ahead of yourself there Chief," Brian warned. "you forget about me? Yeah I'm the version of yourself that you pierced, collared and sent to have dildo's shoved up his ass for the remainder of his college career." Now Brian stood before him the way Damien had made him. All his football muscle and girth packed tightly into a restraining harness and leather codpiece. His nipples rudely dissected with big hoops and his face an open book of mindless sexual adoration.<br />
"Oh that..." Damien admitted embarrassingly.<br />
"yeah that..." Brian answered back, fidgeting uncomfortably in his leather knee high boots. "It's interesting that everyone else got redemption in your magic except for yourself." He mused, trying comically to pull the leather thong that exposed his big thighs.<br />
Damein shook his head in embarrassment at his own actions, "yeah life's full of little ironies."<br />
"so again you both passed and failed...however since you decided to make such a valiant sacrifice and give up everything you selfishly wanted in the spirit of truth and love..." the figure that looked like Brian grimaced..."I really didn't mean that to sound so hallmark..." he shrugged brushing it off... "we offer you a choice, You can resume your life as Damien Vaughn mild mannered college student before you ever heard of Gino, Eric, The Waterloo any of it, with no memory what so ever or you could accept your punishment and go on to the next step after your sentence is served."<br />
Damien considered it... he could go back to the way things were without ever finding Gino, and just be himself the way he was before the whole damned fiasco...or he could..."hey what's the punishment?"<br />
Brian smiled at him, "Well since you sentenced Brian to training and service you'll have to accept the same punishment..."<br />
Damien thought about it for a second and thought about the options, "look I really want to continue learning and all," but he looked up at Brian's leather clad form, the wrist bands the sexual objectification. "but I've read enough bad porn to have big reservations concerning anything that might require; a sling, a cross or a fist going where no fist should go..." He stuttered.<br />
Brian gave him a long suffering look and then gave him the slam back handed slap that he had when he was Deana causing Stars to swim across his vision. "OW!"<br />
"PAY ATTENTION! Yeah we're going to send you to some masochist so you can be degraded, humiliated and completely objectified. THIS IS THE KIND OF THINKING THAT WE ARE TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM!" he yelled irritably.<br />
"okay" Damein muttered rubbing the throbbing lump on his head, "so what does service and training mean..."<br />
the Brian figure paused a moment regaining control of his temper, "All I can tell you is you'll be given an opportunity to use your special skills to benefit others and in the time it takes you to do that you'll learn enough to move onto the next level..." he said mysteriously.<br />
Damien gave him a hard look, "that's another one of those vague answers meant to derail me from asking any further questions on the subject isn't it?"<br />
Brian gave him a quizzical look then threw his hands in the air in triumph, "He can be taught!"<br />
Damien rolled his eyes, "thanx..." He gave it some more thought...old life, punishment? Old life, Punishment? He weighed the options.<br />
He could just go back to being himself, happy and content or he could...<br />
Damien had never been one to admit he was wrong nor was he ever able to stomache any kind of chastisement, when the nuns in school hit him with a ruler he'd stick them with a compass...<br />
And then with terrible certainty he made the only choice he really could, "bring on the Penance" He whispered.<br />
"Done!" Brian answered with a crisp approving nod, and the his figure shimmered and receded back into the shadows of the inky blackness that surrounded them both "You haven Chosen Wisely, you have passed the final test! Good work Apprentice."<br />
"huh?" Damien called after the shrinking figure.<br />
"The Last test was to accept your Punishment, after this time of reflection, service and teaching you will be able to advance to the next level..." the disembodied voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.<br />
"Hey wait!" Damien yelled into the quickly shrinking void "WHat would have would have happened if I chose wrong?"<br />
The shrinking stopped for a moment and Damien could here the voice as if it was right next to him, "then you would have surely failed... Having failed two and passed just one... and your fate would have mirrored your failure..." Damien's mind suddenly became filled with the possibility of what could have been his fate...</div><div class="mindthegap">Their he was Damien Vaughn only his name wasn't damine no it was Jonathon... johnathon shamrock Collegiate super Star and intellectual ellitest...What a terrible combination...he had all the Arrogance of Brian with none of the Benign qualities of stupidity. He was adored and cruel in return... A wizard at finance and in school... a money hungry Brat with the biceps to make no one question him. He had his pick of the finest pussy at the school and he used the bubble headed bitch's like holsters to keep his cock and disposed of them just as easily...</div><div class="mindthegap">"I would have been straight!" Damien backed away repulsed.<br />
"Oh yes, we couldn't have let you return to your life with your Magics could we? Think about how dangerous that would be? So we would have had to take away the one thing that made you special and separate enough from humanity."<br />
Damien was startled "so it was my queer quotient that lead me to magic?"<br />
The Void seemed to laugh at the comment, "Of course, Apprentice, there's more to the "fairy" comment then you know... As I've been trying to show you everything happens for a reason. When a man is cursed or as you now see it, blessed enough to seek another man for comfort it is a great gift in it's own... and should never be forced on an unwanting or unready man."<br />
"wow.' Was all Damien could answer. Then he considered a minute, "Hey I don't see how that would have been a punishment for me! I see how it would punish just about everyone else but i seem to make out like one miserable Hell on Wheel's prick bandit."<br />
"Oh it might seem that way, but you see that choice would have left you suseptible to the charms of another kind of magic... Practical Magic... and you would have been enslaved and made over by one of the practicioners of that crude art...and he would have reshaped you body and mind and he would have done nothing but degrade you and you would have loved him for it..."<br />
Damien saw a glimpse of that possibility and shuddered violently at the prospect. With one last terrified breath he yelled into the collapsing darkness... "HEY YOU NEVER TOLD ME WHO YOU WERE!!!"<br />
"You have seen me a thousand times and touched me a hundred but you have yet to know me...but you will if you complete the tasks that have been set for you..."<br />
and as the Void disappeared around and into him filling his mind with nothing but blank white light he screamed, "THAT'S JUST ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE FUCKING EVASIVE GOD DAMN NON-ANSWERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSss...........s...........sssssss...."</div><div class="mindthegap">In the barrenness of endless white that remained After Damien's brilliant departure a large male figure stood up and sighed.<br />
From seemingly out of nowhere another equally large form strolled over to the first at an idle almost bored gait. He chewed absently on a peanut butter sandwich "So how's the new... Apprentice..." he paused long enough to make the italic's signals with his hands to show his contempt at the term, "coming along."<br />
The first one stood up solemnly and Answered "The Force is strong in this one."<br />
The second figure subsequently threw the peanut butter sandwich at his companion, "You are one gigantic dork, you know that!"<br />
"No I'm not!'<br />
"Oh Yeah? What's with this whole mysterious figure bullshit? And the limbo? Huh? You just couldn't take the guy out to a cup of coffee or a beer? I find people take this sort of thing much better over a beer."<br />
The first large Figure brushed himself off insulted, "some of us Justin take this a little more seriously then others, alright?"<br />
Justin gave his friend a skeptical look as they both padded off toward the light, "You know what that needed? That needed a giant head and a man behind a curtain!"<br />
"Shuddup."<br />
"No," Justin continued, "And instead of testing the little bastard you should have just put on a pink gown and simply asked, "are you a good witch or a bad witch?""<br />
"shuddup."<br />
The continued bickering good naturedly untill they were gone and there was only white.</div><div class="mindthegap">Epilogue</div><div class="mindthegap">I was a little nervous at first to say the least. I mean I knew he wasn't going to recognize me. I was prepared for that, it was just I didn't know how I was going to react when I saw him. I had been playing the scene out in my head for days, each time with a different tone of voice or inflection, but now that I was standing once again in front of the 84th st. Gym door I found myself unable to think of one thing to say to him.<br />
He wouldn't remember me at all as far as he's concerned I'm just another stranger off the street but i... I remember... and I guess that's part of the punishment that I've been given...it's gotta be cause damn does it hurt...oh well...here goes...<br />
I walked through the black doors of the 64th st gym and said a polite hello to the receptionist, the cute Punky girl took my name and pointed me to the Member Services are at the back.<br />
I walked passed men bustling in and out of the gym in various states of being, shy overweight college guys covering up every inch of their bodies with cloth and layers...Preening peacock muscle boys unable to pull themselves from the trap of the mirror.........I shuddered for a moment...I could have been either one of those extremes...I mentally checked off a couple of particularly needy souls for further examination...like tagging struggling beavers and releasing them back to the wild...<br />
There wass one in particular, medium build... pugdy and completely oblivious to his surroundings and then another italian looking muscle boy who seemed to be checking himself out for about 45 minutes from every angle...My fingers twitched behind the strap of my backpack, These two didn't know it but over the next week they were going to have the uncontrolable desire to start working out with a very special very particular trainer...<br />
I stopped at the big Door to the office I remembered so well and stepped through it. For a moment I expected to be greeted with the big happy dawg hug I had always gotten when I arrived there...but all I got was a confused look from a mass of olive skinned muscle.<br />
"Can I help you...?" Gino asked me cautiously.<br />
"No." I answered plainly, then smiled and added "But I might be able to help you."<br />
He smiled and leaned his huge weight back into the back of the chair, spreading his lat's in a way that made an eagle's windspan look menial. "Oh really," he said with a seductive sceptisism.<br />
"Yeah," I answered, "I came over from the university, the proffesor I'm working for right now told me you were looking to fill one of your trainer positions."<br />
He considered me for a moment and then nodded with a friendly smile, "alright what's your background."<br />
I laughed a little thinking about the question..."well that's a little difficult to explain...I'm a psyche and Sports Therapy major," he seemed confused...so was I when I was told that, "My theory is that your Physicality is directly related to your Psychology and Vise Versa." It wasn't a lie per say, that was my actual cover while I was doing my Penance. I just always said "And I'm going to use ancient sorcery to help people better themselves..." Quietly under my breath.<br />
See.<br />
No lie.<br />
Alright? What do you want me to do, walk in and say "hi I'm Samantha From Bewitched and if I twitch my nose just right I can make you walk on the ceiling?" Yeah I'd be in a Jacket that zippers in the back quicker then you can say Sabrina the Teenage Acid Addict.<br />
"wow," He said really interested now, "that's a suprisingly enlightened idea coming from..." he trailed off leaving it up in the air.<br />
I smiled, now used to the reaction, "coming from someone like me huh?"<br />
Yeah that's the other thing. Not only do I have to constantly have to recite that Psyche and Sports riff I have to do it looking like the way I do now.<br />
I glanced over Gino's shoulder to the Art Deco mirror behind his head and looked at my face and was stunned to see the new me looking back all over again. The combination of myself with the Brian version of myself was quite interesting. It also made me look like a dumb straight boy body builder. Turns out, Brian's athletic dedication and Damien's thristy ambition equaled one heavily muscled bruiser. My Dark spikey hair was cut close to my skull in a tight roman style, and my face was terribly handsome in a very masculine way. My jaw was so strong it could almost be called a lantern jaw and no matter how much I tried I could never get rid of this five o'clock shadow...<br />
My slightly almond eyes still shined benaeath my dark angular eyebrows but they were a little more inset because I had that strong brow that made Brian always seem so male aggressive...Now picture all that on top of about 235 lbs of muscle. On my 6'2 foot frame. Yeah I look like that Van Diesal guy from that Car movie with black hair. It also makes people assume that I'm quite stupid. And now I have a very thuggish manner that makes people think I am very straight and very stupid.<br />
It's strange how people equate all that muscle and masculninty with well...ridiculous stupidity...It's another irony and part of my punishment. Not that I mind at all ....<br />
I Can't tell you how much time I spent Jerking off in front of a mirror. It's very mesmerizing to watch you biceps bounce up and down and you traps contract, as your pec's bounce to the rhythm of your hand....<br />
Yeah I said I did it a lot!<br />
Like you wouldn't!<br />
So sufficed to say, I guess standing their in my Tight t-shirt with the Sleeves ripped off and my baggy nylon Jogging pants, I looked less then colligiate.<br />
"No," gino said knocking my gaze from the mirror, "I was just surprised that your this ensightful at your age."<br />
"well," I answered back slowly, "I just began apprentic... I mean studying with this really great teather and he's showing me a whole new way to look at the world."<br />
Gino gave me a farway look "jeez... I remember being your age...three years ago..." he laughed a big hard chuckle..."Yeah I had just given up my Mechanic Job, gone back to school...I thought I knew it all..." his expression changed to one of irritation, "I was such a fucking prick."<br />
This is what I wanted to know, and here the big lovable Teddy Bear offered it, "then How did you end up working here at the uhm, err..." trailing off.<br />
"At the Gayest gym in the city?" He said smiling. "Well I left school, started bouncing and one night after a real bad fight with the chick I was dating I met the dancer Justin. He was a real normal guy who just payed his bills dancing at a club...we got to know each other...and well..." He left the rest up in the air. "there's a lot more to the story..."<br />
"I'll bet."<br />
"but don't get any ideas...I might work here in the emerald city and have expiremented but I think I'm sticking to chicks for awhile...gay guys are just so..."<br />
I smiled sadly, "shallow and manipulative?"<br />
"All of em except that first guy, in my expiereince anyway, well enough about me...Dude I just realized I don't even know your name."<br />
"Ah oh I'm Sorry it's Gavin, Gavin Emauhnd." He looked at me and for a second I thought he didn't believe me.<br />
"that's a really unique name" He said standing and extending his hand.<br />
"I'm sure you'll find I'm a very unique man." He smiled and eyed me as we shook hands.<br />
"well it's nice to meet you Gavin."<br />
"You to Gino."<br />
He looked at me intently for a second and asked, "Hey how did you know my name?"<br />
Dammit I would never had made it as a spy...I fumbled for a moment, "the...err... name plate on your desk...I mean I know I look like a well groomed gorilla but I can read."<br />
He laughed again, "Yeah I can totally relate man. I'll tell you but come back tomorrow I'll give you a tour and we'll set you up to take clients?"<br />
I grabbed my backpack elated "Thanx Gino, I really appreciate the opportunity."<br />
"Geez, Gavin, I don't know what it is about you but I feel like I've known you my whole life..." Gino said with that same hunky but kind of goofy smile.<br />
I felt a little stab and smiled back completely hiding anything I was thinking..."Well Maybe I Put a Spell on you."<br />
He laughed a short appreciative chuckle and I walked out the door with a big grin.<br />
I sighed a heavy sigh feeling my massive pecs eave underneath the fabric, as I shut the door, oh well...that wasn't as bad as I thought it was... He still broke my heart but I have other things that I had to get done... First of all I had to get back to class for my adolescent psyche presentation and then report back to Justin and work out.</div></div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-24954331522028352742011-01-20T14:01:00.000-08:002011-01-31T12:19:24.776-08:00BMOC: Wrath and Greed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Wrath and Greed:<br />
“Deal With the Devil”<br />
<br />
<br />
When I was 17 I had a therapist tell me that evil was a choice.<br />
He also made the mistake of affirming to me that homosexuality was also a choice… and also evil. <br />
I didn’t agree.<br />
I’m told the good doctor puts on quite the drag show wends day and Sunday nights in the east village. <br />
I gave him some advice on choices…<br />
He had told me that each one of us was given the choice to decide what was good and what was right and the choice to ignore it. <br />
When you’re born into a family of witches with a curse on it, that’s a little hard to accept.<br />
I was abandoned by my mother at birth. My father hated the idea of my existence and loathed the sight of me. The only person who loved me was killed by a curse she had nothing to do with. <br />
I was an outcast all my life. Always on the outside looking in. The kids in school feared me and hated me. My own family treated me like a jagged piece of glass, careful to never get to close. <br />
The old testament claims that we are all born with sin. From conception we are tainted and tread the earth with the forever reminder of Eve’s betrayal and Adam’s Failure. It is as much a part of us as the blood in our veins… or the color of our eyes…<br />
So I ask you… what choice did I have. <br />
<br />
What choice do any of us have…?<br />
<br />
God my head hurts.<br />
<br />
Am I Dreaming again? <br />
<br />
It seems that an unfortunate side effect of never sleeping is that your unconscious mind begins to run like butter in the sun, seeping slowly into your waking life. It’s difficult to discern what is a dream and what is real… but then my life has always been that way. <br />
<br />
Christ I need to finish this story before IT happens… There’s so little time left… <br />
<br />
I can see it. In the dark of the Mirror, it’s waiting. Every night it gets worse and worse. It’s going to happen soon…I just hope I can get control of things before… <br />
<br />
I should stop using the mirror. Stupid. Stupid. Curse me for a fool, thinking I could tame the magic that has brought every witch and queen in fairytales to their poetic end. Fucking mirror. <br />
You wanna know the nasty truth about Snow White? She was the evil queen or eventually becomes her. After snow white and prince charming ride of into the distance and happily ever after scrolls across your mind, extend the story. Extend it to where prince charming is suddenly struck down in a hunting expedition or is killed in a senseless border skirmish. For this is truly the fate of all brave men. Knights are made for short brutal lives; their princesses are made for long depressing ones. After years of grief and loneliness, beautiful snow White comes across a magic mirror hidden deep within the wells of her deserted palace. Solitary and embittered she uses the mirror to make herself happy any way she can. Power, wealth and companionship are hers for the taking. Until one day the mirror speaks to her of a beautiful girl destined for greatness…and suddenly we’re back at once upon a time.<br />
<br />
…I don’t know why I just told you that… I guess I’m trying to justify myself, perhaps vindicate. I want you to feel sorry for me when I have to put on my red hot shoes and dance the night away. Whatever. Fuck that.<br />
<br />
Where were we in the story?<br />
<br />
Oh yes. <br />
<br />
Leo was about to get what he deserved.<br />
<br />
I intervened. <br />
<br />
Now He’s waiting for me on the other side of an office door. <br />
After the unpleasantness at the manner I swept the young bastard and I back to my loft in the city. At least it used to be my loft… now it seems like a utilitarian office space. The kind of modern office one would expect to find overlooking the vast expanse of the city. The strange thing is that up until now it had been a wide, poorly decorated loft space filled with books and junk food wrappers. <br />
That’s how ridiculously powerful I’ve become. This could all be an illusion to suit my needs… or it could be the real thing. Physical reality shaped and molded like play-dough at my whim. <br />
Or maybe it’s just a dream…<br />
I can’t tell the difference anymore.<br />
And frankly I’m not sure I fucking care…<br />
<br />
<br />
Leo didn’t remember getting to the Agent’s office that morning. He had a slight headache and all he could remember was a blinding blue light.<br />
The lobby he was waiting in was austere and sanitized. He couldn’t really tell how long he had been waiting. He did know that he was loosing his patience. He inspected himself in the big Windows that overlooked the city below.<br />
His roguishly handsome boy’s face smiled back. Auburn hair styled gently up into a mock faux hawk. Classic square jaw and wide easy smile statuesquely positioned beneath his confident muddy brown eyes. Yes sports illustrated he was ready for his close up. <br />
He tried to formulate why he was here… memory flooded into him like the lines of a simple child’s storybook. It filled the gaps of his tenuous understanding. <br />
He was in an agent’s office.<br />
He was going to sign a contract.<br />
Yeah that’s right. With Clive out of the way all the scouts wanted him now.<br />
He was going to the pros.<br />
He was going to put his name on the dotted line and make bank.<br />
The door opened and a debonair man in a well tailored charcoal suit assured him into the office. The guy was broad and the seams of the suit stretched tightly across his massive shoulders. Blue eyes regarded him sinisterly.<br />
“Well Leo. It seems like you’ve finally arrived.”<br />
“Sweet man.” Leo barked deciding to let go of all faux professionalism. He just wanted his prize.<br />
“Now this contract states simply. A one year agreement of service at the end of which you will be worth an estimated 2 million dollars.” The large dark haired man crooned.<br />
“I want to make sure I’m going to start.” Leo commanded gruffly. “I don’t want to waste my primetime sitting on a bench.”<br />
The laugh the agent gave as a response made Leo slightly uneasy. “Oh you’ll be a star, probably one of the highest paid ones. A top tier contender.”<br />
There was a hungry groan in the pit of Leo’s stomach. Weariness of the agent gave way to the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his excited veins. He was going to be loaded and a pro! He was practically sporting a chubby as he took the pen from the agent’s hand and signed on the dotted line without reading a word.<br />
The Dark haired man smiled triumphantly.<br />
“So what team do you represent?” Leo asked. He was finally able to think after the heady intoxication of the money and accomplishment.<br />
The Agent tilted his head toward Leo with a smirk, revealing a blinding blue glow, “Oh it’s not that kind of a contract… and I’m not that kind of an agent…”<br />
The door behind them burst inward and Leo was vaguely aware of a large hand grappling his neck from behind. A small swath of cloth was jammed against his nose and everything faded to black… except for the glowing blue of two cruel sapphires.<br />
<br />
Leo moaned.<br />
His body ached.<br />
He reached for consciousness.<br />
The Van rocketed forward. <br />
Leo’s assailants sat well naturedly, talking in the front seat. The fenced partitioned left him isolated in the darkened carriage. He was drugged. That was his only thought. The only thought he could form. His mind fumbled hastily for answers, for help… but all he could focus on in his groggy teetering mind was that yes, in fact, he had been drugged.<br />
He balanced painfully between darkness and drunken cogitation, desperately trying to stay awake. <br />
“I’m told that Ludlum is a very powerful sedative, quite archaic but your host has a… shall we say “appetite” for the Archaic.” The guy from the Agent’s office was suddenly beside him. He wore an expensive waist coat with the collar pulled high, framing his face. The raven haired man gazed at him from flat sapphire eyes that were dull with disinterest.<br />
“hooo…” Leo tried to say something… his head rolled toward the rowdy kidnappers driving him into captivity. <br />
“Don’t bother,” The blue eyed man replied, “They don’t care. For all intents and purposes you’re just a package and I’m just the retailer.”<br />
Leo again tried to speak but he began to drool on his chest instead.<br />
“You see I felt you deserved an answer to your question, however these gentlemen arrived before I was able to offer you a suitable response.”<br />
“You asked as to what kind of agent I truly am?” The man spoke with a detached and emotionless tone. It was clipped and academic but seemed positively extra terrestrial for its precision and apathy.<br />
“I Leo Am an Agent of Nemesis.” He said it with all the fervor as if he were declaring himself a grocer or a mail man. “Nemesis, The Greek Goddess appointed by Hera to act as the hand of justice for the gods. When Midas grew too greedy, when narcissus too vain, when mortals abused the gifts with which they were blessed,” His eyes grew dark and evil, “it was nemesis that was sent to deal with them.” <br />
Leo felt the blackness close around him again but the voice droned on, “Nemesis was not justice. Nor was she was revenge.” The eyes grew terribly cold and brightened with zealotous fury, “She was retribution. A righteous affliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent… personified in this case by me. I am your punishment, you and your frat brothers, for you squandering your gifts.” <br />
Damien assessed the spoiled Frat boy lulling helplessly beside him, the handsomely boyish face, the powerful shoulders and big chest. “You were given everything from birth. The right family. The right schools. The right trust fund. The right car. The right position on every team. Born handsome. Built strong.” <br />
He gave the boy a flat look, “You could have been the best and brightest of your generation. Instead you are a spoiled, cruel, self involved bully with a good pedigree. I’m an agent- to teach you that you are not special. You are not privileged. You are not entitled to anything. Your money, your family’s influence and your good looks are not some divine coronation that makes you better then anyone else.”<br />
“…As for the contract. You truly let your greed get the better of you. You should have read it. You really did make a deal with the devil.”<br />
The man sighed in what seemed like boredom “You’ve signed your freedom away for the promise of a few hundred thousand dollars… the paltry sums you could have made from your trust funds in a few simple months of proper investing. …But then greed knows no logic.”<br />
The van stopped.<br />
“Neither does wrath.” Damien paused for a long time. He watched the limp form of the muscled athlete with something that looked like remorse.<br />
The kidnappers got out and came around to open the back. “You must have really pissed me off Leo.” He said without the slightest inflection or hint of emotion. “I let my wrath get away with me as well….”<br />
The van door opened and the big goons hauled Leo’s slumped form out of it.<br />
“You see…I’ve made somewhat of a deal with the devil myself…” The emotionless voice admitted before he slid out of the van.<br />
One of the goons barked at Leo as they shouldered his weight, “C’mon Quarterback, Dr. Heart’s eager to get his hands on you.”<br />
Leo’s Head lulled forward and he gave in to blessed unconsciousness.<br />
Damien pulled his coat tight to him and followed the large thugs toward Heart’s Night club.<br />
The good doctor’s night club was christened the King of Hearts. In the dim light of the late evening it seemed like any vacant five story warehouse space, Except for the huge Stained glass window that overlooked its dance floor. The Brilliant red stained glass formed a huge multi faceted heart. It marked the club as its moniker.<br />
A giant Heart shaped window seemed inappropriate for this hell hole. Damien mused as they entered. Instead a sign reading, “abandon all hope ye who enter here”, would be more fitting.<br />
The Guards led them up a back stairwell. The goons carried Leo’s loose body like a sack of grain, with Damien ghosting at their heels. They were silent except for Leo’s groggy mumbling. There were a lot of floors to this club. It was more like an office building… <br />
Damien mentally ignored his surroundings and steeled himself for his next challenge. He needed the upper hand tonight, right from the start… and to get that, he had turn to ice.<br />
In the space of the moment, he embraced the cold winter chill of apathy. He smiled at the comfort. If you don’t care what happens, you can’t loose. Damien understood that now… and a part of him shuddered at the danger.<br />
The stairs broke into a long hallway, that eventually led to Hearts’ Suite of offices.<br />
A bank.<br />
Damien Realized in cold analyses. This had been a Bank, or possibly it’s corporate headquarters… the club below was probably the lobby and vaults… up here… they approached heart’s door… The CEO’s office.<br />
The man himself was seated behind a fashionable desk. He was reviewing files on a laptop. The room was dark save for the bluish illumination on his handsome and youthful face. He smiled as they entered and flicked on a desk lamp. The soft light made the room seam cheery, and the Doctor’s benevolent smile of welcome was quite disconcerting. “Ah, Gentlemen, you’ve arrived.”<br />
“The kid’s sedated.” One of the goons grunted.<br />
“Put him on the couch.” Heart instructed. His voice was gentle like he spoke with an errant child. <br />
The Goons grunted. They deposited their burden and left the office.<br />
“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Rhodry, Rhodry Heart.” The man’s voice was charming and he offered his hand. <br />
Damien kept his hand firmly in the pockets of his knee length black fitted coat. He looked at the hand in front of him and gave Heart’s extended appendage a curious look.<br />
The Doctor retracted his hand and gave Damien an open relaxed grin. Then he waited. There was a very stony silence for about two minutes before Damien… out of sheer boredom said…<br />
“I’m here to negotiate this kid’s contract.”<br />
“I’m sorry?” Heart couldn’t hide his shock at the statement. <br />
So much for the Mr. Rogers routine. <br />
“Never say you’re sorry,” Damien mused, “Just send muffin baskets…” <br />
Heart ignored the comment, and crossed back to his desk. “I’ve never seen you before, so allow me to educate you on how this works. The Contract is non-negotiable I Bought this young man’s contract from you, a one year agreement for servitude, and ownership. It’s really very simple.”<br />
“Oh I get that.” Damien responded. The ice water in his veins was now arctic electricity. “I just thought I’d warn you. This…” Damien searched for the word, “Slave boy…” He said sarcastically, “Is un-trained.”<br />
Fury. <br />
Ah there it was. <br />
Wild fury played across Heart’s suave face. “What the fuck?!” HE spat slamming a hand on his desk and risking a quick glance at Leo’s beefy form, splayed across his leather couch.<br />
There was definitely not going to be a trolley or puppets tonight.<br />
“I spent three months doing recon on this kid and you’re telling me he’s not trained. He’s worth twice what I bought him for. College quarterback… Fucking handsome… virile as shit…” He composed himself and gave Damien a very scary look, “…And you’re telling me this shitbag is untrained. He’s worthless…”<br />
“So Train him.” Damien responded flatly, brining his hands out of his pockets. He crossed his big arms and toyed with a silver ring on his finger.<br />
“I don’t train men.” Heart said, all calm and collected again. “I’m a mediary I just provide my clients with men who are interested in their services.” Very professional and very convincing. The good doctor wasn’t in the slave trade. He wasn’t a human trafficker. He was just an excellent networker who made a tiny profit off of other men’s fantasies…<br />
Damien smiled a wicked smile, “People who lie go to hell.”<br />
Heart’s face twitched in fury.<br />
“It’s true,” The stranger explained sweetly, “It says so in the bible.” He laughed.<br />
“You are talking yourself into a fuck load of trouble son.” The doctor warned. “You’re in way over your head and your about to drown.” He threatened. <br />
Damien ignored the Doctor’s tirade and began to inspect the decor of the vacuous office. “”You’re not my daddy. I’m not your son.” There was a warning in his tone. It cut the tension like a knife through warm butter. Then, Damien turned and smiled at him in a friendly way, “You’re very bad at concealing your emotions.” He observed. “You’re not a Doctor of Psychyatry.”<br />
“I was a re-constructive surgeon.” Heart slowly answered. <br />
“Oh…” The man smiled, He toyed with the information for a moment, a cat with a ball of string. “Reconstructive surgery.” He repeated. “Your own practice?”<br />
Heart Nodded. “15 years.”<br />
“Wow.” The stranger exclaimed in honest awe. His smile grew wicked again, “I bet that would give a man one hell of an Ego.” <br />
“What’s your point?”<br />
“I don’t have much of an ego,” Damien shrugged, and then seemed to grow devilish, “But my Id… Now that’s one hell of a thing.”<br />
“Game time is over.” Heart announced in a calm booming voice, that actually made Damien pause. It was the voice of someone who expected to be obeyed. He almost instinctually did.<br />
Damien considered the man in front of him for a moment. He wore a sleek fitted black t-shirt that looked like sleek corporate sex. He wasn’t actually tall. He was maybe 5’11, powerfully built though, which gave the perception of height. His muscles were so bulky, cut and defined that they were obvious in his clothes. A masculine build heightened by the arrogance of muscle bound gym bulk.<br />
His salt and pepper hair didn’t not betray any age. There were only the barest of lines on his smooth handsome face, and if anything they gave him an air of dignity that he wore well. George Clooney on Steroids… was the most appropriate comparison.<br />
His eyes were big, brown and fatherly with concern. However, they gleamed with the sharp razor’s edge that Damien had only previously noticed in predatory animals.<br />
“I’ll offer you a bet.” Damien almost whispered. “You take two months and train the boy. If in two months time, he’s a fully trained and dutiful slave…” Damien dropped his coat from his shoulders showing his bare muscled torso. He exposed the wide rolling muscle of his chest and the dynamic spread of his lats. The coat dropped to the floor revealing the sweeping delts and the huge biceps.<br />
“I’ll provide you with another slave for auction.” The Blue eyes slanted suggestively and Damien clutched his crotch lewdly.<br />
Heart was a statue. No response. No reaction. He whistled under his breath. “You’re one crazy fucker you know that?”<br />
The man grinned a demon’s toothy grin. “I’m aware.” He was all playful sexuality now. He strutted towards heart provocatively. “Two for the price of one Mr. Slave driver, and only minimal investment.” He flexed his arms in repose in front of him, displaying the two-hundred and fifty lbs of muscled adult male he was. “We’ve established you have an ego… now tell me… are you a betting man?”<br />
“I’m going to enjoy hearing you beg for my dick.” Heart replied.<br />
The man just smiled satisfied. HE bent over giving Heart a full on look at his Herculean back and big masculine glutes. He picked up his coat and shrugged it back on.<br />
“Two months Doctor. I sold you his contract for a song, my client expects his training to make his next contract sell for at least two million.” The stranger explained methodically. <br />
“Two months?” Heart considered. He pulled a cigar from the mahogany humidor on his desk. “That’s enough time.”<br />
“Yes,” The voice was cold and left the feeling of dread lingering in the air. “I’m told you are quite the professional.” <br />
Heart inspected the merchandise dozing on his couch. The young man was in good condition and he was in fact prime real estate. The body was already incredibly fit and powerfully over built. Retooling would have to be done, but it would take immediately. “Why do you care?” Heart asked as he inspected his new acquisition.<br />
“I don’t. Let’s call it an experiment.”<br />
“Fine.” Hear shrugged. “My re-con says he comes from a well established family. His father is apparently the acquisitions director of an Oil Company. Will that be a problem?”<br />
“Not if you’re good at your job.” The Agent Scoffed.<br />
“Well…”<br />
“MY FATHER IS GOING HAVE YOU FUCKING KILLED!!!” Leo roared from his sedated state. He made a halfhearted swing for the doctor. Heart grabbed the athletic arm and held it tight, “Oh ! We got a live one here.” HE laughed. Leo was still drugged but he kicked Heart square in the head. Heart retaliated with a swift brutal punch in Leo’s face. He tried to quickly compose himself, as he walked to his desk and pushed a button.<br />
Two of his goons returned. “Take this to the box.”<br />
Damien watched the men pass in silence. He took one last look at Leo’s handsome bloodied face, “And so Dante you descend into hell.” He whispered. <br />
Damien Vaughn watched as Leo’s athletic and supple body was carried away to his hell. He watched the innocent unconscious face lull between the shoulders of his captors. He had transformed one man into a sexual boy toy. He had twisted time and fate to change another into a cartoonish barbarian… and now he had sold a human being into sexual slavery… <br />
As Leo disappeared, so did whatever humanity was left in Damien. A part of him screamed… the demon he was could do nothing but laugh… “So now we both descend…”<br />
He had courted the dark for so long, stood with his back to it…straining to look into the light. Now he realized how rich and luxurious the shadow he had cast all these years had become. The oblivion of its consuming corruption felt like the arms of an old lover. <br />
No more, fighting. <br />
No more, moralizing.<br />
Just Power. <br />
He was finally free.<br />
And it felt like Hell in all its eternal glory.<br />
The Demon cleared his throat, “Remember Doctor… Two months…”<br />
“You’re a very interesting anomaly.” Heart said as he reached for a match. “I think I’d like to get to know you better.”<br />
The doctor lit his cigar.<br />
“Be careful when you light a match…” Damien warned as he turned to leave. “You never know when you may ignite… an inferno.” The sound of his voice echoed across the room in empty tones.<br />
“Who are you anyway?” The Doctor asked. He chuckled to himself as he poured himself a drink.<br />
“Vaughn… Damien Vaughn.” There was dark rasp of mad glee, “Or at least I used to be.”<br />
The door shut behind him.<br />
Dr. Heart smashed the glass in his hands.<br />
His fist slammed onto his intercom. “CODE BLACK! CODE BLACK! ALL RESPOND! THERE IS A MAN ON HIS WAY DOWNSTAIRS! DRESSED IN BLACK WITH BLACK HAIR AND BLUE EYES! I WANT HIM DETAINED!! REPEAT CODE BLACK.” <br />
“CARL!!” He Barked at his Head of Security, “I WANT THIS PERMITER SECURE!!!”<br />
When he was finished screaming into his intercom at his security staff, he flipped open his Cell. “Where are you… Okay get up here now… and Gino… PROGRAM ALPHA 7616.” <br />
The Guards were loose and on the hunt. Gino was in a trance state and returning to his master. Heart Struggled to maintain his calm breathing. IF this punk was who he said he was… no that wasn’t possible… not possible.<br />
<br />
Possibility really sucks. Most times the most impossible things are the ones that happen when you least expect them. Take Damien for instance. He was currently riding the elevator Down from Heart’s penthouse. He stared at the glowing descent of the buttons and contemplated the utter destruction of his soul. It was a marvelous thing to watch. Sending Leo off to Hell was the final stroke of the ax. He was numb. No remorse. No regret. Not even any real pleasure… just numb. He felt like a shadow trying to exist in a world with no light.<br />
It was as he was mentally trying to define the complete abyss, the obsidian mirror that had become his soul…when possibility intervened and Gino stepped onto the Elevator. <br />
Gino stood silently and began to firmly and repeatedly press the button for the penthouse. The Elevator ignored his urgency and continued to descend into the belly of the club. His unfocused eyes never once recognized the other passenger. <br />
They stared at each other, uncomprehendingly. The two former friends looked at each other from behind new eyes.<br />
A Demon’s and a slave’s. <br />
The Demon recognized this man, as one of his victims. The slave felt like he should know this handsome stranger… but his only real thoughts were of obeying his master’s summons. <br />
The Demon advanced on the slave’s robotic form. His body was as large as Gino’s and the sent of sweat and the musk of testosterone permeated the small elevator. <br />
Blue eyes met green and for instant, they saw each other. <br />
But then the Demon smiled.<br />
The doors opened behind the handsome man in black. The loud music of the club erupted towards them, shattering the pristine silence of the moment.<br />
The Song in the club blared at them… “Do… Do ..you have a first aid Kit handy?” <br />
The Man in black gave a mocking flourish of his jacket, revealing his muscled chest and melted into the throngs of shirtless dancing fags. <br />
…The slave struggled with every fiber of his being and whispered… “Damien?” Just as the doors shut again.<br />
“Do…Do…you know how to patch a wound for me…:”<br />
Damien surfed the undulating crowd. The primal rush of freedom and sexuality swept him through the room.<br />
“My Heart Is Damaged!” The girl group sang.<br />
Men openly gazed at him in worship, desire, jealousy, love, hate, curiosity… he feasted on their eyes and felt himself pulse with the power of their adulation. <br />
“Damaged!”<br />
A hand caressed his ass here, another pressed against his chest their. His smile was the downfall of angels and his blue eyes glinted with the sins of saints… <br />
“Alright pal, I’m here to take you in.” A voice informed him and pulled him gently from the crowd.<br />
The man was about fifty. He was powerfully built, the body of a football coach squeezed into a black swat uniform. Handsome but tired blue eyes regarded him from the wrinkled face of a once breath taking man. Silver streaked hair matched a silver streaked mustache.<br />
Damien regarded him inquisitively, “Now do you really want to do that…” He concentrated for a moment…”Carl?” He asked, plucking the name from thin air. <br />
The older Bear whistled under his breath. “So you are what they say you are.” Carl whispered in quiet astonishment.<br />
“And what do they say I am.”<br />
“A witch. Being the head of security in a gay bar you hear a lot of crazy things from drunk queens… tweaked out twinks and plain insane faggots… But I believe the stories I’ve heard about you.” Carl told the muscled stranger.<br />
“Good. Maybe you’ll survive.” Damien offered pleasantly.<br />
“The Doctor wants you detained.” The head of security said simply.<br />
The demon laughed, “But the real question is Carl, What do you want.” Damien saddled up close enough so that their square jaws were inches away from each other. He could feel the old man’s mustache and smell his aftershave, “If you believe the stories… Then you know I can give it to you.” He bit the silver haired bear on the ear. “What is it you want?”<br />
Carl felt the pressure of the moment. His dick was ramrod hard with carnal possibility. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his weathered lips worked soundlessly. He felt the weight of his wide sagging shoulders, the exhaustion in his massive thighs and the infirm iron of his abdomen…<br />
“Young…” He whispered in total naked honesty. “Make me young again.”<br />
The Demon laughed contemptuously and pulled away from him. “Why doesn’t anyone want to grow old and die anymore? I’d find it a relief… personally.”<br />
HE gave the head of security a dark, frightening look, “DONE. You’re only as young as you think you are…” He dissolved into the crowd and was gone.<br />
Carl’s head shook like a split melon, his hulking frame doubled over as he pressed his hands to his temples. The world shook. His body trembled… He was going to loose his lunch. He plowed through the crowd and escaped into the men’s room. The swaying universe continued to turn inside his brain. He held onto the sink for dear life. He regained enough strength to turn on the faucet and began lapping water from his hands like an animal. What the fuck had that guy done? What the fuck was wrong with him. His body seemed to be swimming in hormones and insecure thoughts. He felt alone. He felt scared. He felt confused. He felt like a lost child. <br />
Carl put two big hands on the sink and looked in the mirror. He wasn’t younger. He was still the 5o year old man he had been moments before….only now he was dressed like some silly twink. A blue and white Spiderman t shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of tiny blue board shorts had replaced his black swat security uniform. His mustache was gone and his weathered face was shaved clean as an adolescents. His graying held was gelled high and spiky. A hairstyle for someone half his age.<br />
He was so confused. He was afraid some one would come in and see him. What would he say? He couldn’t form one thought that wasn’t full of anxiety and doubt. His lip began to tremble and it looked ridiculous on the face of the once proud and stoic former military officer. He had been an army sergeant for twenty years. He had been trained in anti-terrorist combat… but now that all seemed like someone else’s story. All he could focus on was how timid and abandoned he felt. <br />
He shook with anxiety. His big shoulders rolled underneath the tiny t-shirt. It was had to concentrate on his situation because his dick was as hard as a teenager' and his thoughts were as chaotic. He was horny. He was confused. He was horny. He was overwhelmed. He was horny. <br />
“Jesus Christ there you are!” A man exclaimed as he entered the bathroom. <br />
He was tall about 21 with a shaved head and a light blonde goatee he was wearing a plain pair of Dockers and a pretty tame red polo. He was handsome if not slightly thin.<br />
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” The young twink whined exasperated. “You know sometimes it’s like babysitting.”<br />
Carl spontaneously stammered “Sorry.” He was overwhelmed with a rush of recognition for this weaker, younger, gayer man. He knew this kid, even though he had never met him.<br />
The younger man came over to the mirror and began adjusting Carl’s top like he was a child. He smoothed the grey flat top and placed a Dragon ball Z ball cap on his head. “There you go baby, all put together.”<br />
“Thank you, Jason.” Carl burbled. Jason. Jason was his boyfriend. A wave of adolescent lust swept over him washing away all thought. He immaturely began to thrust his big groin at the slim man.<br />
“Oh Christ, There’s enough time for that later, all my friends said they wanted to see you flex later at the apartment, “ the blonde smiled an ironic smile he patted Carl’s thick manhood, “and you know only good boys get their dessert.”<br />
“I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” Carl sang in a child’s voice and began to clap like a happy toddler at snack time. Jason slipped his hand down the back of the muscle daddy’s shorts and fingers the big ass’s red and shaved rosebud playfully.<br />
Jason took his boyfriend Carl’s hand and led him from the bathroom and into a life where he was nothing more then a giant child trapped in a 50 year old muscleman’s body. Jason loved the fact that his “daddy” was really a naïve childlike bottom who dressed how he told him and obeyed his every whim. Carl was happy that he had a real grown up to take care of him and feed his pubescent sexual appetite. <br />
Damien watched the twink and the ridiculously dressed muscle daddy cross the dance floor and laughed to himself.<br />
“What’s so funny?” A handsomely dark man asked the demon.<br />
Damien turned to the voice. The guy was short… maybe 5’8 but he had thick shoulders and dark hair gelled tight to his head. Damien considered the tight nylon shirt and designer jeans the guy was wearing, “Everything.” He said simply. “Why so serious.<br />
The short dark and handsome man scanned the crowd until his eyes settled on two big musclemen gyrating together on the dance floor. “You’d be serious too if your boyfriend was over there doing that.”<br />
“Would I?” The demon asked with no emotion.<br />
“He’s going to leave me. The second he doesn’t need me anymore…he’s gonna run off with one of these muscle fucks…”<br />
The room seemed suddenly colder and the demon asked the stranger, “So he’d stay with you if he needed you?”<br />
The littler man scuffed his feet and said angrily, “Yes.”<br />
“Done.”<br />
“What?”<br />
Across the dance floor one of the muscled dancers lost his balance suddenly and fell backward hitting the hard dance floor with a crash. The darkly handsome shorter man ran towards the fallen goliath.<br />
“BABY!”<br />
”BUDDY! ARE YOU OK!”<br />
The fallen man grimaced in pain, “Trevor …” said the injured man from his spot flat against the floor, “Trevor… I can’t feel my legs.”<br />
Trevor turned to the dark haired stranger in horror. The muscled demon only shrugged his massive delts and said, “He’ll need you forever now.” He gave Trevor a blank stare and melted into the reveling dance floor…<br />
Across the room, Calvin watched as the club staff rushed toward one of the muscle queens who must have slipped on her tiara. Calvin rolled his eyes and sipped his beer. He hated these bars. Regular guys like him, guys who worked there job at fed ex, paid their rent and watched porn on the internet didn’t belong in gay bars. Gay bars were for drama queens who needed to be the center of attention. <br />
“Having fun, wallflower?” A voice asked beside him, low and seductive.<br />
A shirtless muscle queen was leaning suggestively toward him. The guy locked him with a blue eyed gaze that sparkled like diamonds. “I was just thinking...” Calvin stammered, trying not to be nervous in front of, most likely. The hottest man who had ever spoken to him.<br />
“You were just thinking about how you would like to be the center of attention for once.” The Demon answered.<br />
“Yeah… I was.” Calvin said in a bewildered voice.<br />
“Then today is your lucky day.”<br />
Calvin hunched over and grabbed his balls in sudden incredible pain. His dick throbbed and swelled inside his plain khaki pants.<br />
“You’re the best of show tonight.” The stranger mused and wandered away.<br />
Calvin felt his body pulse and undulate underneath his sensible clothes. His sears button down ripped away as his chest and arms expanded with long toned muscles. His height shot up as his legs became long muscular and athletic, the khaki’s falling away to reveal his smooth equine thighs. The pain in his crouch soon became a dull throbbing as Calvin stood on shaky long legs. He looked at his once average phallus and was appalled to see a thick flaccid 12 inches of swinging, flopping cock meat waving between the big arc of his groin, “whaaa….” His voice was deeper and almost braying; he looked into one of the mirror lined walls and saw his now naked body. His center of gravity readjusted and he realized he was almost six foot six, with every long stretched muscle of his elongated torso pumped and oily. His teeth were bigger like huge flat white panels, forcing a now aquiline face to contort around their massive size. His light brown hair now seemed coarse, it was short and bristly. Two big droopy ears hung off him like comical shudders. <br />
His giant dick swung as he turned and practically hit him in his taunt distended six pack. He wanted to scream in shock and terror but all he could do was laugh. He began to bray and hee-haw at the horse-hung freak in the mirror, all the while his big teeth grinning like an amused animal. <br />
“C’mon, side show… time to do your act.” Said one of the club’s staff members. He led Calvin to a small raised platform with a spotlight. It was as easy as leading a horse to water. <br />
“AND NOW LADIES AND GENTLEMAN THE KING OF HEART’S CLUB IS PROUD TO PRESENT, OUR NEWEST ATTRACTION… CALVIN THE STALLION.” <br />
The entire club turned to watch the tall stripper with the big donkey dick turn and gyrate to the music. No one could take their eyes away from the huge pony cock that dangled like a drain pipe against his thighs. Every eye in the house was on his big thick foot and a half baby-maker. And all the big stud could do was laugh. He bucked back and forth, hee-hawing like a silly mule the entire time.<br />
With everyone watching the donkey show on stage, Damien lost interest in the crowd and drifted toward the bar. <br />
Tim saw him coming. The guy was huge and cut. His upper body was massive with wide Lats and perfectly sculpted Traps that framed a masculine neck. And the Pecs… shit the guy had a weight rack. “You’re pretty big, bud what are you 240?”<br />
The Shirtless Muscle man turned slowly and with a wicked smile of satisfaction, “I dunno somewhere between 250 and 260.” He shrugged his big Delts in disinterest. <br />
Tim puffed up his own chest. At 42 he had been lifting heavily for five years and was righteously proud of his 6’ 230 muscled frame. “Damn wish I could put on that kind of size. You Meso-morph guys are so lucky.”<br />
Damien assessed the posturing athletic man. He was handsome with a sparse crew cut and a Golds Gym Tank top, desperate to advertise his dedication to the gay man’s ideal of bigger bigger bigger. “What the fuck is a Meso-morph.” He asked flatly.<br />
“WOW!” a whiney plaintive voice interrupted him.<br />
A small effeminate queen in a tiny t-shirt and thick glasses was staring, in rhapsody, at them. “You guys are so hot.” The gay boy breathed lustfully.<br />
Damien gave the inferior man a look of supreme disdain.<br />
Tim smiled broadly and said a very appreciative “thank you.” <br />
The geeky guy’s eyes grew wide with reverence, “Are you guys into Muscle worship? I’d love to worship you sir.”<br />
Tim Felt his pride swell, he loved this kind of attention.<br />
Damien was laughing hysterically.<br />
“Worship me?’ He laughed cruelly. “I’d be alright with you building an altar and sacrificing some live stock in my honor.” He spat. He flexed his arms and got close to the loser. The guy was practically trembling from the contact, “But that’s not what you want is it? You want to Oil me up and awkwardly touch my body in some A-sexual attempt to get near my naked skin.” He gave the guy a look as hard as Diamond, “BEAT IT GEEK.” The guy was fleeing with his insecurities tucked between his legs before the demon could turn around.<br />
“That was pretty rude.” Tim said distastefully. <br />
The Demon gave him a heated glare, “I suppose you found that pathetic display… flattering.”<br />
“You didn’t have to act like a dick.”<br />
“You need wimps like that… don’t you?” The Black haired pin-up inquired. “You need someone to treat you like the big muscle stud… that you wish you were. Because just between me and you Tim… we both know your not that big. Sure you’re big for a queer but up against a real bodybuilder…” The Demon laughed, “You’re just a faggot who works out.”<br />
Tim was taken aback and thrown off guard by the man’s vicious directness. “You don’t know me man…”<br />
More Laughter. “Sure I do Tim.” <br />
Tim had had enough of this cocky kid. “I know you too. You’re just a pricky arrogant Bitch covering up his lack of class with his biceps. You’re an attention seeking delinquent. All Muscle no Soul.” The remonstrating teacher inside Tim Chastised.<br />
The Demon’s laughter grew louder. “Oh Tim…” The blue eyed gaze became murderous. “I’m not one of your students.”<br />
“How did you…”<br />
The Muscled brat advanced on him pinning him against the bar and whispered in his ears like the buzzing of a dark wasp.<br />
“You play the nice guy but deep down you want to be the cocky Muscle Queen. The Bodybuilding jock with no apologies. You yearn to have men lick your boots while all you wear is a posing strap and flex your enormous body.” Tim’s cock was twitching. The Demon’s voice grew deliberate. “You want to be a big old careless Brute. So big everyone has to acknowledge it. So big you finally believe it…”<br />
“I…”<br />
“That’s alright Tim.” The demon smiled. “You don’t have to say it. I know you do. But you came to the table to late. Your thirties isn’t exactly the optimum time to start a career in bodybuilding… You spent too much time working on your soul…” Damien’s lips stroked Tim’s earlobe as their sweaty exposed chests rubbed together. “Too much time teaching Art to Kids… caring about things like politics… being a nice guy… trying to better yourself and your fellow man. Not enough time in a mirror with a barbell…”<br />
“I love my job…” He stammered in defense.<br />
“But you’d love to be 285 lbs of muscle and 8 percent body fat more, right?” <br />
“I …”<br />
“Sure you would,” The silky voice purred. “Lucky for you I have a way with time.”<br />
The music seemed to blur in the backward the world stopped and for a moment all Tim could see and hear was the big muscle kid glowing like an azure firefly.<br />
“No time for college… just a life time spent in a gym… no time for art… just endless reps on a weight bench… 20 years of life culture and love washed away in a river of sweat and vanity…”<br />
Tim felt strange like something inside his mind was being stretched and twanged like a rubber band.<br />
“You didn’t go to college… nope you met your work out partner and that was it. At 18 you traded in your soul for a Training program. That’s how you get to 289. All the people you helped. All the kids you taught… all gone. Never happened.<br />
Protein. Cycles and roid raging to the next ten pound gains. Focused only on your personal selfish need… your Body dismorphia so developed and controlling you become completely unable to care about anything. Except of course, your size ambition. Your target weight more important then friends family or ha… love. Just a Soulless ton of male body image dementia.” <br />
Tim considered the demon’s words… “No…”<br />
“Too late.” The Demon’s smirk was devious, “Your lifting Partner is looking for you Tim.”<br />
The crowd parted a muscled man in an A&F T shirt was coming toward the bar. He was flanked by two Latin Bodybuilders. One looked Mexican and WAS HUGE. The other was fairer probably Puerto-Rican.<br />
“Hey Bull Dawg.” Steve Conners greeted his old buddy.<br />
Tim didn’t know this guy.<br />
Yes he did.<br />
He and Steve had started Lifting together. Way back in 85 after he got that job working for the Recycling Plant. It was 1985 and he was doing manual labor and lifting every day… No he went to Dartmouth in 85…. Yeah Him and Steve pumping the iron… in an old fashioned weight gym that was all cinder block and steel. <br />
“Hey Conners.” Tim drawled. His voice sounded different bovine and shuddering with a deep bass.<br />
“Dr. Heart has his Photographer here tonight he wants to get some pics of you and the boys.”<br />
Tim looked at the boy’s. The fuck boy’s. Steve had learned and perfected his muscle building hobby with Tim. After ten years of cycling and training Tim, Steve had gotten bored and moved on to more exotic… things. <br />
But they still hung out and fucked like old friends do. Hell Steve was the first guy to call him bull dawg. The only name he responded to. <br />
What…<br />
Tim…<br />
Bull dawg…<br />
Tim suddenly felt the weight of his body crash onto him like gravity pulling a meteor to the ground. His chest heaved and he felt it like it was four feet of horizontal muscle flexing. <br />
He could see his enormous reflection in the clubs myriad of mirrors. <br />
The Golds gym Tank top rode up over his muscled brick walled roid gut. The strings strained against his grotesquely distended traps and his colossal shoulders looked more like cannon balls. Veins dissected every layer of stretch mark stained skin.<br />
His pecs hung from his bloated torso, wide and ape like. Two huge crags of rock hard flesh. His stance was askew because his thick over worked quads made him stand akimbo. Tiny workout shorts disappeared beneath the girth of his inflexible thighs. He breathed in utter gratification. He was so wide. His face was swollen with extra weight giving his Jowls the look of an actual bull Dog. <br />
His Biceps were ridiculous. Mammoth arms, that were in practicality totally useless because of their cumbersome size. Every ancillary muscle was pumped and trained making the body look more like an animals then a man’s. <br />
He struggled with the mass that now seemed to be dragging him down. Dragging his thought process down. Pulling him further into the interior of this gargantuan muscled suit of armor. He tried to rest against the bar and found the position uncomfortable because the curve and width of his bizarrely developed back. His huge flagrant Glutes knocked over a bar stool.<br />
Rage flared in his mind.<br />
“Shit… This bar is too fucking small.” He spat.<br />
“C’mon Bull Dawg.” Steve beckoned, motioning toward a back room.<br />
Bull Dawg turned his misshapen bulk and irritably dismissed the other man. “Fuck no man. It’s late I got get my ten hours of sleep before my AM lift. I’m in the middle of my grow cycle…”<br />
Conners gave him a flat look and listened to the meat head drone on self importantly about his workout regime… “Bull Dawg.” He finally commanded in a voice like iron. “I said move.”<br />
The hulk angrily shook his mounds of powerfully over developed muscle, “Don’t play that silly mind trick shit with me…”<br />
Steve leaned in and whispered in Bull Dawg’s ear. The Giant’s eyes glazed over and his tongue lolled out of his thick mouth. <br />
“Good boy.” Steve said pinching his nose tiredly, “Now take your Viagra….” He popped a pill into the simpleton’s mouth. “..And go with the boys.”<br />
The huge muscle god’s shambles into the back room like good dogs for a night of high priced muscle hooking and Steve escaped back to their hotel room for some well deserved rest.<br />
On his way to the room where he would sit with his cock rigid while clients rode his erect dick like a circus ride, some unsuspecting man got in his wave. <br />
Bull Dawg put one massive chubby fingered paw on the guys chest and launched him across the room. “Outa the way pussy.”<br />
He strutted arrogantly through the crowd sneering at the wimps and scum that weren’t man enough to clean his jock.<br />
“Lordy, Lordy, Lordy I can’t help it I like to party…” Damien mused. He pulled back his sweaty bangs and reveled in the stares his expose muscled torso garnered. <br />
“Wind me up and watch me go, where I stop nobody knows…” He sang as he danced onto the floor.<br />
The drumming back beat of techno remix throbbed in his ears. Sweaty men pressed against each other moving their bodies in time to the rhythm.<br />
“S.O.S…” Rhianna sang above the undulating crowd. “la La LA Lalalala oh…”<br />
Damien swam through the sea of male sexuality until his eyes caught a young toned boy writhing with shirtless abandon. The kid was angelically beautiful and his big blue eyes were brimming with blissful abandon. He wore a tight white bandana and white jeans snug against his youthful bubble butt. <br />
“I’m obsessive when just the thought of you comes up… I’m aggressive…”<br />
Damien’s Hips moved to meet the pretty boy’s tempo. They moved like animals, their bodies swaying in a primitive mating dance.<br />
The Kid’s name was Drew and he was more then happy to let this handsome stranger dance with him. <br />
Drew’s eyes were alight with the joy of his young body moving to the music. He was brimming with the simple pleasure of his uninhibited movement.<br />
Damien’s hand instinctively reached for the kid’s tight waist and rubbed his hands down the taunt six pack. Drew responded by grinding his groin into Damien’s thigh.<br />
“Please some one help me… it’s not healthy for me to feel this way...”<br />
The Kid’s smile was broad and genuine as he shook his shoulders in time to the beat. Damien let his larger body twist with the Kid’s energy, all the while watching the joy and twinkle in Drew’s eyes. His whole body was on fire with delight. <br />
“Oh you are making this hard…” The music crooned.<br />
“You’re a really Good dancer!” The kid yelled over the booming noise.<br />
“Thanks.” Damien smiled.<br />
They continued to dance and all the while Damien was mesmerized by the happy dancing man in his arms. He was totally apart of the moment. Happy and free. Naïve and uncomplicated, the kid was freer then the Demon could ever hope to be.<br />
“I’m sorry…” Damien whispered.<br />
“Why?” the kid asked with a big unguarded grin.<br />
“Because I’m going to do something terrible to you.”<br />
The kid laughed. “Why would you want to do that?” He asked in amusement.<br />
Damien’s blue eyes grew troubled and his jaw trembled in confusion. His voice cracked when he admitted, “I don’t even know anymore…”<br />
Drew Moved to comfort the distraught bigger guy. He was intercepted by several large security officers. <br />
The music grew harsher and the troubled blue eyes turned back to Steel. <br />
“Boy you got me open I don’t know what to do …”<br />
Ten Large members of the security force formed a circle around Damien. <br />
“You are making this hard…”<br />
Damien slipped passed their ranks and managed to climb onto the scaffolding of the stage.<br />
“This Hard.”<br />
Gino and Dr. Heart made it to the Dance floor just in time to watch their muscled, raven-haired query flip his self onto the stage.<br />
“Hard.”<br />
Gino’s breath caught as he watched Damien’s bulky bare torso strain under his own weight. He regained his footing and stood solitary on the stage. The lights overhead strobbed and flashed a thousand colors while the crowd shook below him. Behind the sweating mage, the giant Stained glass window glittered and sparkled, framing him in red.<br />
“Hard”<br />
“FUCKING GET HIM!” Heart screamed beside him.<br />
Gino took an eager step forward. <br />
“Not you bitch!”<br />
The security team enclosed in on Damien, climbing onto the stage and advancing on their prey. <br />
The music reached a terrible crescendo and the reverberating back-beat seemed to become impossibly louder. It shook the walls of the club as it built farther. The throbbing was like a thundering wave about to break. The guys in the crowd were holding their ears and doubling over in pain. The ceiling began to rain plaster down on the crowd. The lights vibrated insanely. <br />
On the stage Damien seemed to be harnessing all the energy in the room. Soaking it in like a sponge. The veins in his arms strained. His fists clenched.<br />
Things began to spiral radically out of control. The music slammed. The club vibrated. The security force dropped to their knees against the percussion of the reverberating noise.<br />
The pulsing beat had just achieved the level of unbearable. Damien looked up, his eyes a desperate vivid cobalt, he pierced through the dark of the club and the distraught crowd, to look directly at Gino. <br />
His pleading Gaze met Gino’s without the slightest hesitation.<br />
“S.O.S”<br />
Damien’s body convulsed.<br />
The Stained Glass Window behind him Pulsed.<br />
Gino threw himself and Dr. Heart to the ground.<br />
The Window Shattered into a thousand glittering shards of stained glass.<br />
The Broken Heart released the music and the club erupted into absolute chaos.<br />
For one brief moment the entire dance floor was covered in what looked like fairy dust.<br />
When Gino regained his feet the Demon was gone. </div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-31038494263135147912011-01-20T14:00:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:47:17.135-08:00BMOC : Masquerade<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Chapter 4: Masquerade<br />
<br />
“Scenes from a Maul”<br />
<br />
Drake Harrington was hastily pulling on his pirate costume in Ally’s deserted sorority house. The costume was tight across his broad stocky frame. He had just finished tying on his bandanna when he heard an ominous pounding at the front door. He leapt quickly through the empty house. The pounding continued like irritated thunder. He wrenched open the door and stepped back stunned.<br />
<br />
Damien Vaughn filled the doorway with his broad shoulders and gloomy black folds of clothing. He regarded Drake with contempt from behind a pair of dark sunglasses. “Drake, you’ve joined a sorority, have you? How appropriate.”<br />
<br />
Drake shuffled uncomfortably. “Hi, Damien.”<br />
<br />
“Where’s my sister?”<br />
<br />
“She’s not here….”<br />
<br />
Damien’s eyebrow rose quizzically over the rim of his dusty glasses. He turned and walked to a waiting stretch town car.<br />
<br />
Drake hesitated then launched forward. “Hey Damien …wait!”<br />
<br />
Damien got in the back seat of the car and disappeared behind tinted glass.<br />
<br />
Drake plowed around to the other side and jumped in. Two opposing seats faced each other and Drake slid in opposite Damien.<br />
<br />
“Excuse me.” Damien said.<br />
<br />
“Look… Ally wants me to talk to you.”<br />
<br />
Damien considered this, “About what?”<br />
<br />
“She’s worried about you, Damien.” Drake felt silly and stupid in the costume. Damien looked as immaculate as ever. His inky Black hair was styled spiky over the sunglasses. He wore a high collared black dress shirt and pinstriped pants which were both covered by a long black trench.<br />
<br />
“What ever could she be concerned about?” Damien’s voice was gravely and slick. It had a definite malevolent tone.<br />
<br />
“Damien,” Drake whispered, “You know what she’s upset about. She thinks you’re out of control.”<br />
<br />
“That suggests that I was at some point in time … in control.”<br />
<br />
Drake took a deep breath and trudged forward, “She thinks you’re going to end up just like Medea.”<br />
<br />
The mention of Damien’s sister made his face contort in a monstrous scowl.“SHE’S A BUSY BODY LITTLE DO-GOODER!” Damien snapped.<br />
<br />
Drake gave him a confused and sympathetic look. “I’m worried too…” Being cruel to Drake was like beating a puppy. “You’re acting like a monster…I don’t Get it.”<br />
<br />
Damien Shrugged, “She’s pissed because I’m blocking her. She wants to get inside my head and help me. She overestimates her abilities.”<br />
<br />
“Whatever’s wrong she might be able to fix it.” Drake offered.<br />
<br />
Damien smiled broadly and for the first time Drake noticed his features seemed more vulpine… edgy and… demonic. He tipped the Glasses forward and for an instant Drake could see an eerie azure light. He looked back and Damien had replaced the glasses. “It’s gone beyond fixing it.”<br />
<br />
There was another long pause and the sound of a beer being cracked from the town car’s mini-fridge. “You’re weird.” Drake said over his beer.<br />
<br />
Damien sighed, “Yeah I am.”<br />
<br />
“You weren’t this weird in college.”<br />
<br />
Damien shifted his weight under the folds of his heavy coat. Drake was considered with a haughty look that melted quickly. Damien turned to the window before answering, “Yes I was, Drake. You just didn’t know me that well.”<br />
<br />
“We dated for an entire semester.” Drake corrected defensively.<br />
<br />
Damien laughed a Low rolling belly chuckle. “Smoking pot, playing RPG’s and sloppy blow jobs, in no way constitutes a relationship. I think being in that Frat for too long has affected your perpetually intoxicated brain.”<br />
<br />
Drake pounded his beer back fiercely and threw it at Damien’s head. It made a heavy thud against the rear window and the driver swerved a little. “Fuck you. Heartless Prick.”<br />
<br />
Damien raised an eyebrow and wiped a stream of beer from his forehead. “Closet Case.” He spat. “How’s dating my virgin sister going? Still pretending you can breed cunt?”<br />
<br />
Drake recoiled humbly, “We’re not dating.”<br />
<br />
“That’s not what the Sigma’s think… or fucking anyone else on campus. You’re Ally’s prince charming. She gets to stay an untouchable paragon of virtue and you get to not have to touch her.” Damien smiled. “Queerbait.”<br />
<br />
“It’s easier if people think I have a girlfriend… there are fewer questions. You never understood.” That was Drake’s only lame defense of a situation he knew Damien had never, and would never sympathize with.<br />
<br />
“No.” Damien’s eyes grew angry for the first time. “I’ve never had the luxury of not having to be MYSELF.”<br />
<br />
“Ally’s fine with it. Guys leave her alone, and we are really good friends.” He was grasping for straws now. And Damien didn’t seem to give a fuck. “This was a mistake. You should just drop me off here,” Drake said apologetically. He was crestfallen. He was disappointed. He had envisioned a reunion with an old friend. A little beer. A Little pot and then crazy wild man sex. Instead he was in the twilight zone with a total Dick. “You have no idea what it’s like pretending to be something you’re not.”<br />
<br />
“I might…” Damien conceded… “I tried to change myself for a man once… Tried to not use magic… be a regular guy… Even had some divine intervention to help it along.” Damien’s voice was distant and his gaze was locked on the window. He remembered vividly trying to live a normal life after his last night with Gino… and how trapped he felt in the mundane humanity. “The Rehab didn’t take …Being without my power… was like being a painter and making myself blind. No matter how hard I try… I’m still a Vaughn… Still a witch… still a hopeless fag.”<br />
<br />
“I know I’m still gay! I’m not denying that… I’m only trying to get through my senior year.” Drake said defensively, “As soon as I graduate…”<br />
<br />
“You’re going to… what? Join PFLAG and get yourself a rainbow bumper sticker? Face it Drake. You’re as trapped as I am.”<br />
<br />
Drake grabbed another beer. He pounded it back and threw it again. “Fuck you.” He burped.<br />
<br />
“Sorry Frat boy, not again.” Damien managed to surface from his self-involved reverie long enough to notice Drake’s costume. “What’s with the advertising, butt pirate?”<br />
<br />
“I’m going to Ally’s Sorority Masquerade ball.”<br />
<br />
Damien’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “But her sorority house was empty… so were all the other sorority houses on the block.”<br />
<br />
Drake began to shift anxiously.<br />
<br />
“Drake. Where is she having this party?”<br />
<br />
Drake mumbled an answer and flinched as Damien put his hand through the car window.<br />
<br />
********************************************<br />
<br />
Upon arriving in the small Hamlet of Remington, Desiderata Vaughn commissioned the construction of a house. It wasn’t so much a house as a local monument. High on a bluff that overlooked both the town and the nearby river, she built a monolith of Victorian architecture. Desiderata bought several acres of forest and in the heart of the deepest wood she built, the ancestral home of the Vaughns. Deep in a hollow of the woodland she erected a sprawling manor house, which she christened “La Maison Du Coeur Creux.” An elegant French title which roughly translates to the heart of the hollow or simply, the “Hollow Heart”.<br />
<br />
The Estate itself was an imposing four story leviathan of slanted roofs, turrets and balconies. It rose out of the forest as if it had grown from the soil like the nearby Oak Trees. The Manor of Coeur Creux was as beautiful as a fairytale castle and as disturbing as an Inquisition dungeon.<br />
<br />
Inside the house there were no clocks and no mirrors and three locks on every door. The floorboards sparkled like water and the walls were covered with the dead eyes of family portraits. Fifteen different sorts of wood had been used for the window seats, the doorways and the huge staircase in the grand foyer. If you squinted you could see your reflection in the polish of the banister and if you were very quiet you could hear music in empty corridors.<br />
<br />
It was dark in every room, even at noon, and cool all the time. Anyone who dared stand on the porch, where nightshade and ivy grew wild, could try for hours to look through the windows and never see a thing. It was the same looking out; the green-tinted window glass was so old and thick that everything on the other side seemed like it was under water.<br />
<br />
Coeur Creux had seven bedrooms, four floors, an arbor, a conservatory, a library, a surgery, and three stairwells that led down to a huge grand foyer. The ballroom-sized foyer was overlooked by a great mezzanine balcony that seemed better suited for a palace than a simple country home. Currently, the entire foyer was packed to the gills with Remington College’s entire population of fraternity and sorority members. The marble floors were lined with young students, the old walls echoed with a DJ’s music and beer and wine were flowing like water.<br />
<br />
“Dear Ally, what a splendid party, the product of a bright new year. I must say I’m impressed,” Amy told her best friend happily. Amy was dressed for the masquerade party in a cute little genie costume that showcased her bubbly personality.<br />
<br />
“Well, one does one’s best.” Ally demurred. Allysandra was draped head to toe in a gleaming white toga with golden accents. Her lustrous honey -colored hair cascaded over one shoulder and she looked to all the world like a Greek goddess descended to earth.<br />
<br />
“I must say all the same, that it’s a shame that your brother Damien isn’t here,” Amy mused.<br />
<br />
BUM! BUM!<br />
<br />
The resounding sound of a tympani being struck echoed through the crowded foyer. At the head of Coeur Creux’s wide stairway stood a figure in flowing black. Damien began to descend with a look of supreme self-pleasure. A toga, so black it seemed to eat the light, was draped over one shoulder, exposing his large deltoid and muscled pec. The drape of the fabric shifted and undulated beneath his powerful frame and flowed outward with his every step. His face was framed by a wide cowl that trailed into a long and sinuous cloak of liquid night, it spilled out from behind him and trailed up the stairs.<br />
<br />
The face shone with amused grandeur and was decorated with a painted silver face mask which led up to two gleaming silver horns. His hair was back to black and was gelled into a slick crew cut that matched his black goatee.<br />
<br />
“I’ll meet by moonlight, Fair Titania.”<br />
<br />
“I should have known…” Allysa murmured.<br />
<br />
“You didn’t really expect me to pass up the chance to put on a costume, did you?”<br />
<br />
Alyssa gave Amy a dark look, “Are you happy? Speak of the devil, and he appears.”<br />
<br />
“He insisted,” Drake had joined them at the foot of the stairs. His pirate costume lacked a certain amount of dignity but he did look quite handsome in the torn shirt and breeches.<br />
<br />
“You shouldn’t have told him,” Alyssa fumed, “He never passes up a chance to make an entrance.”<br />
<br />
“That wasn’t an entrance,” Damien replied flippantly, “Nothing even exploded.”<br />
<br />
“Not yet.” Ally and Drake said in unison.<br />
<br />
“Ah, young love.” Damien snorted with an eyebrow raised in irritation.<br />
<br />
“Did you have a chance to talk to him?” Alyssa asked.<br />
<br />
Drake gave Damien a considering nod. “He says he doesn’t want help…and I don’t think he approves about our… er… arrangement.”<br />
<br />
“Oh bugger that.” Allysa swore uncharacteristically.<br />
<br />
Damien gave Drake and Alyssa a scathing look “I love a charade.” He turned his back to them and the billowing cloak disappeared into the crowd.<br />
<br />
Damien searched the throng of elaborately dressed and sometimes barely dressed students until he found his quarry. He was behind one of the large couches and facing a window. He held an untouched beer in his hand. “No costume, rabbit?”<br />
<br />
Peter turned. He was sullen and seemed to be deeply brooding. He shrugged at Damien and ignored him. Peter was secretly praying that the witch would just go away.<br />
<br />
“I bet we can fix that.”<br />
<br />
Peter Looked down at his beer and realized that it was now a big plush carrot. He dropped it angrily. He put two tentative hands on his head and his suspicions were confirmed. He snatched the rabbit ear head band off and threw it at Damien. “Fuck you.”<br />
<br />
“Oh Peter, no. I’m so out of your league.”<br />
<br />
Peter’s face contorted in rage. “Why won’t you leave me alone? Why are you tormenting me?”<br />
<br />
“Better the Devil, you know?”<br />
<br />
“Go away.”<br />
<br />
Damien’s eyes began to glow with that eerie azure light. The light Peter had first seen when… Rob… became… Javier. Peter had been trying desperately to forget the thick mulish voice begging him for help. But Rob’s… Javier’s pleas still woke him in the dead of night. The blue light flickered out. The witch’s eyes were doing that a lot more frequently now. “Why? So you can sit over here all alone and feel sorry for yourself?”<br />
<br />
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”<br />
<br />
The devil’s eyes rolled, “Sure you are, wall flower. Christ Peter! You’re such a victim. What would be more fun for you, huh? Sitting here all alone ruminating on your social failure or following me around and taking abuse?”<br />
<br />
Peter’s lip trembled, “I don’t want to do either of those things.”<br />
<br />
“Spit and Hades, you’re not going to cry are you? There’s no crying in baseball.”<br />
<br />
Peter sniffed and avoided Damien’s eyes, “You know if you think I’m such a victim you could help me… you could…”<br />
<br />
Damien’s laughter echoed in his ears, “I could help you what? Change? Hahaha. This is the life you chose little rabbit. If you wanted something else you could have chosen it long ago. Life is all about choices. Don’t look to me if yours are no longer satisfactory.”<br />
<br />
“I didn’t have a choice!” Peter sputtered.<br />
<br />
“Of course you did… sure, you knew you weren’t like the other boys but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have tried to be. You could have sucked it up… joined a couple of sports… tried to blend in… toughened up a bit… instead of hiding in your room, getting paler and skinnier by the minute. Choices, peter. Choices.” Damien’s eyes gleamed maliciously beneath his silver horns. Peter had a sneaking suspicion that those horns were not a fantastic makeup job or the result of any kind of spirit gum adhesive.<br />
<br />
“It’s not that simple.”<br />
<br />
“Oh it is. You, little faggot, decided to roll over and play dead way back in junior high.”<br />
<br />
“I thought you were my friend.” Peter whispered through tears of rage.<br />
<br />
Damien’s smirk dripped contempt, “Your Friend?” he spat. “Your friend? Well then little buddy, let me give you a friendly taste of what your choices could have been. It is a masquerade party is it not? I have just the costume for you.”<br />
<br />
Peter stepped back.<br />
<br />
Damien clapped his hands with a boom.<br />
<br />
Pete stepped forward.<br />
<br />
Damien began to disappear into the crowd “Mind the clock, rabbit. You’re on the same schedule as Cinderella.”<br />
<br />
He returned to Allysa’s greeting line. She gave him an awful dark look, “Don’t make any trouble.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t really think that’s up to me anymore.” Damien told her frankly. His eyes lit with a terrible azure light and continued to glow for as long as Ally could make contact with the luminescent radiance. “I’m pretty much bleeding magic from every pore.”<br />
<br />
“WOW that was a cool trick!” A young bushy haired guy with glasses and a slipknot t-shirt yelled. “Do it again.”<br />
<br />
Ally coughed loudly. “Damien, this is Eric Porter.” He was handsome in a boyish way, with slender shoulders and firm round biceps. “Eric, this is my brother, Damien.” They shook hands.<br />
<br />
“Now do that eye thing again!”<br />
<br />
“Eric why aren’t you wearing a costume?” Ally asked, desperate to change the subject.<br />
<br />
Eric smiled broadly. “I’m a terrorist… they could be anyone, you know.”<br />
<br />
“Oh…” Ally answered wearily. “Hey Eric I think Amy was looking for you…”<br />
<br />
“Awesome!” The eager young buck grunted and melted into the crowd.<br />
<br />
“Nice Ass.” Damien murmured and Eric bent over suddenly, giving him a better view.<br />
<br />
“You should leave.” Ally gasped in horror.<br />
<br />
“It’s my house too…” Damien shrugged.<br />
<br />
“But you’re dangerous… you’ve probably affected things and not even aware of it…”<br />
<br />
Damien smiled and mused, “Kind of like a homo-erotic dehumidifier.”<br />
<br />
Amy came bounding over with her boyfriend Bradford in tow. “Oh my gawd! Like everybody on campus is here!”<br />
<br />
Bradford the consummately polite WASP, extended one big hand towards Damien, “Hi, I’m Bradford James McPherson, the third.”<br />
<br />
“Damien, the first.”<br />
<br />
Allysa rolled her eyes, “and God willing the only.”<br />
<br />
Amy hung happily on Bradford’s arm. Her strapping red-haired boyfriend had fake hair glued to his face and a very inept werewolf’s makeup. He was tall and broad in the shoulders. His burgeoning beer gut only seemed to add to his masculinity. “Brad says this will be the social event of the season.” Amy giggled.<br />
<br />
“Out of the way, losers!” Leo roared, and came barreling down the stairs. Reece and Preston followed behind him dragging a very drunk dude. The dude in question was Paulo Castonelli, the foreign exchange captain of the soccer team. The usually very formal Paulo was wearing a short skirt, a tube top and a cheap wig. His hairy chest looked ridiculous covered in the top and his thick hairy legs looked even sillier.<br />
<br />
“Why aren’t you guys wearing costumes?” Amy demanded.<br />
<br />
“Paulo’s wearing one!” Leo laughed pointing to his drunken buddy.<br />
<br />
“It never ceases to amaze me how drunk straight guys have to get to do drag,” Allysa mused.<br />
<br />
Damien gave the hunky soccer player an assessing look. “That’s a dude in a wig. That’s not drag.”<br />
<br />
“I’m pretty!” Paolo roared, standing on his own for a second, then falling back into Reece and Preston’s arms.<br />
<br />
The two guys drug him into the throng of party goers.<br />
<br />
“Drink up, everybody!” Leo yelled to the mob. “We’re celebrating tonight!” and followed his buddies into the crowd.<br />
<br />
“Why’s he in such a good mood?” Allysa asked aloud.<br />
<br />
Amy’s pixie face contorted into a scowl, “You know that new running back that was stealing all of Leo’s press and hogging all his League deals?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
“He got caught with a bunch of coke in his dorm room. Expulsion and a criminal investigation.” Amy explained.<br />
<br />
“Oh well then, by all means party on.” Damien grumbled.<br />
<br />
*********************************************<br />
<br />
Pete watched Damien wander away.<br />
<br />
The dude was so fucking weird sometimes.<br />
<br />
Good guy.<br />
<br />
But fucking weird.<br />
<br />
Pete cracked his knuckles.<br />
<br />
A nasty habit from back when he was in high school. He’d be cracking his knuckles, over and over again, while sitting on the bench. Watching the rest of the wrestling team in their matches. Matches.<br />
<br />
His hands flickered to his cigarettes. He wandered if he could smoke in here? Trying to drop the last four pounds he needed to before this weekend’s wrestling meet was murdering him. He thought hungrily about the huge spread of food that Ally’s sorority had provided and decided instead to light up. He hated smoking, but it did curb his appetite.<br />
<br />
“Hey Pete! My man!”<br />
<br />
Pete turned toward the crowd. Greg Douglas, his co-captain on the crew Team was walking toward him. Greg’s girlfriend was leading him by a big cartoon leash and her usually rocking body was covered in a giant yellow t-shirt.<br />
<br />
“Yo Greg! Whaddup?” They roared at each other and bumped chests in macho bravado.<br />
<br />
“Not much bro,” Greg answered, “You ain’t got no costume!”<br />
<br />
“Yeah well what are you supposed to be?” Pete asked sardonically of his lithe and ripped partner.<br />
<br />
Greg raised a cartoon mask to his face. Pete was still stumped.<br />
<br />
Greg’s girlfriend huffed angrily. “We’re Snoopy and Charlie Brown!”<br />
<br />
“Oh.” Pete said, faking recognition.<br />
<br />
Greg put a friendly arm around his buddy, “I just had to tell you bro, I’m not going to be able to drive down to Baltimore tomorrow for that Orioles game.”<br />
<br />
Pete stamped on his cigarette angrily. “Why the fuck not? We’ve had tickets for weeks!”<br />
<br />
“Sorry bro, something came up.” Greg apologized “But you can take Rick or Stew…” Greg said pointing to two other members of the Remington crew team. Rick and Stew were wearing matching white and black striped prisoner costumes and fighting over a bottle of Grey Goose.<br />
<br />
“Oh fuck man!” Pete fumed, “I can’t believe you’re punking out on me!”<br />
<br />
“You should get a beer bro.” Greg said cajolingly.<br />
<br />
“I can’t…” Pete mumbled. “I’m losing weight for a meet.”<br />
<br />
“They have light beer!”<br />
<br />
********************************************<br />
<br />
Eric Porter was investigating the grand house’s extensive and dusty library when he felt a rough hand on the back of his neck.<br />
<br />
He turned quickly to find his lacrosse buddies, Tyler, Mike and Brent, standing aggressively behind him. They were all dressed like Desert Storm commando’s in tan camouflage and wifebeaters. “Shit guys, you almost gave me a heart attack.”<br />
<br />
“We’re gonna do more then that you fucking sand nigger.” Tyler spat. Tyler was from a well-to-do family in Ontario… and definitely didn’t speak with the clipped Georgia drawl that Eric just heard.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, but before we put your camel-loving ass back in your cell, we’re gonna have some fun with you.” Mike was one of the quietest students at Remington, he had the body of tri-athlete and the retiring personality of an accountant. He simply didn’t talk that way.<br />
<br />
“Ha, ha, ha.” Eric replied. “Very funny guys, now you can drop the G.I. Joe act. I’m not…”<br />
<br />
The slap came hard and quick. Eric’s ears were ringing. “Did someone say something funny, bitch?”<br />
<br />
“No.” Eric panted rubbing his jaw. The three military men drew closer. They surrounded him in an angry huddle.<br />
<br />
Another slap sent him reeling to his knees. “No what?”<br />
<br />
“No, sir.” Eric answered automatically.<br />
<br />
He knew what his jailors wanted. This was typical of the western scum. They wanted to debase him and use him. Break his spirit, but he would not let them. The three young privates released their ivory bald American cocks at his face.<br />
<br />
“Put that dirty mouth to some good use.” One of the infidels demanded.<br />
<br />
As he took the first dusty, warm cock in his mouth, and silently prayed that this would be his only humiliation tonight….<br />
<br />
********************************************<br />
<br />
Pete grabbed a beer and found a corner to sulk in. He looked down at the floor, noticing his beat- up track shoes and tanned hands and hairless legs. He sipped his beer and checked his reflection out in the glass of one of the big dark windows. It fucking sucked that there weren’t any mirrors in this damn old house. Pete gave his reflection the usual once-over. Shit he looked good. Sure, he was weak all the time but getting his weight down to 175 made every one of his muscles tense and so cut that he looked like a fitness model. A fitness model who was ready to pass out at any minute but a model, nonetheless.<br />
<br />
His tan worn face smiled back at him. Hours of practice in the sun and on the river had made him look a little weather-worn, but he was as solidly bronze as a statue. He ran a hand through his brown hair and toussled the blonde highlights. The fabric of his tight red polo, with its upturned collar, strained awkwardly at the movement. He would be embarrassed as fuck if the guys in his frat new he wore smalls just to accentuate his buffness. They would think that that he was gay. And they’d probably be right. And he wanted to make sure they didn’t find that out.<br />
<br />
“Hey, Mr. Vain. Checking yourself out again?” Amy giggled as she approached him.<br />
<br />
“Uh, no…” Pete fumbled. He was confident in his looks but he didn’t want to seem like some shallow douche bag. “I was, uh, looking at this painting,” He covered quickly.<br />
<br />
Amy smiled beatifically. Her genie’s high ponytail swayed slightly with excitement. “I love this one. Ally and Damien look so cute.”<br />
<br />
Pete gave the random portrait a closer inspection. An Older woman with a tight bun of iron grey hair was surrounded by four children.<br />
<br />
“That’s their family’s portrait.” Amy explained.<br />
<br />
“Granny wanted it done when we were so young, because she wanted to be in the picture and didn’t want us to have to pose with a corpse,” Allysandra added wryly as she joined them.<br />
<br />
Pete smiled at Ally, “So that’s your grandmother?”<br />
<br />
“Oh yes,” Ally said proudly. “That’s Granny, and that’s my older sister Roxanna…” She pointed to a prettily chubby little girl with a surly look on her cherubic face. She moved her hand down to where a confused little toddler in pigtails stared curiously from the frame, “and that’s me.”<br />
<br />
“That can’t be Damien!” Pete gasped. He pointed to a shy little boy in the foreground who was hidden behind a bright blue blanket and sucking a thumb. He had striking blue eyes behind thick plastic glasses and a mop of black hair.<br />
<br />
“Oh that’s him allright, they couldn’t ever get that damn blanket out of his hand. Medea had to hide it from him when he started pre-school.”<br />
<br />
Pete examined the picture and laughed, “Who’s the pretty tall chick? Your mom?”<br />
<br />
Allysa’s eyes darkened and her perpetual smiling face seemed to become a mask of barely contained grief. She gazed at the willowy figure in the painting. The girl was stunning, with a lovely secretive smirk and glossy black tresses. “No. That’s Medea… our oldest sister.”<br />
<br />
“Oh.”<br />
<br />
“I think I’ll go look for Drake.” Allysa answered and escaped back to the party.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I better find Brad before he gets to drunk to stand…” And then, Amy absconded too, leaving Pete with the Vaughn family portraits and the generations of ghosts looking out from them.<br />
<br />
********************************************<br />
<br />
Bradford McPherson tugged angrily on his shirt as he stumbled into the moonlit courtyard of Coeur Creux. He could feel the heat on his body. The moon made the hair on his arms stand on end. The noises from the party were only a mild distraction as he ripped away the remaining constraints of his clothing. He lurched down to all fours and let the moon’s blessed glow bathe him. He was about to pad into the waiting glow of the nearby forest when his nostrils flared. There was a scent in the cold night air. He let his senses spread across the dark glen, and he itched idly at his shaft as it continued to throb to the other animal’s scent.<br />
<br />
Greg Douglas felt terribly confused. He knew it was wrong to be hiding under the vast porch of Coeur Creux. He knew it made no sense that he was completely naked except for his collar and leash. But it felt so right. His unconstrained balls jostled against his naked thighs as he poked his head out of the porch’s overhang. He wanted to run. He wanted to sniff at things out in that big wood.<br />
<br />
His tongue was lolling out of his mouth at the thought. There were probably things to chase out there in the dark. He bounded out of his hiding spot, oblivious to the scrapes and cuts on his knees as he crawled spryly toward the trees.<br />
<br />
He was halfway to the forest when he saw the other animal. The other beast stared directly at Greg… Greg was his name… wasn’t it? The other beast growled. The other dog was much bigger and hairier then Greg, so he automatically dropped his eyes and tried to find the most submissive pose.<br />
<br />
The other dog came forward. He emitted a low growl and Greg remained terribly still. His cock banged angrily against his stomach at the alpha male’s scent. The other dog sniffed at him intently, finding his bare ass of considerable interest. Greg felt the warm slick brush of the other dog’s tongue against his cheek. He barked happily in response, trying desperately to wag a tail that didn’t exist.<br />
<br />
The bigger dog bounded off into the trees. Greg was happy for a playmate. He yipped eagerly and followed.<br />
<br />
The two boys were naked and crouched low to the ground. Barking and tumbling around each other in the forest brush. Greg butted Bradford’s head and Bradford nipped at Greg’s heels. Their sweaty, dirty bodies clashed and crashed as their horseplay grew more violent. It wasn’t until Greg felt the other dog mount him and ride his butt with a thick prick, that Greg realized the real play his playmate intended…<br />
<br />
***********************************************<br />
<br />
The dance floor was alive. Allysa was tentatively making her way across it, when a large hand grabbed hers and pulled her into a tight embrace.<br />
<br />
“Do you know why I went looking for you tonight?.” Her brother’s voice was low and malicious as he danced with her through the crowd.<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
“You tried to stop me.” Damien whispered in his sister’s ear. “I felt it.”<br />
<br />
“I didn’t…” Allysandra protested.<br />
<br />
His grip tightened on her waist. “I felt it. Don’t try and pit yourself against me, little hedge witch. You’re still an amateur and I’ve turned pro.” To illustrate the point his eyes blinked with that unsettling blue light.<br />
<br />
“Well, it didn’t work.”<br />
<br />
“I imagine it was quite painful.” He said with satisfaction.<br />
<br />
Allysa touched her temple gingerly. She was reluctant to even remember the awful moment when she tried to bind Damien’s magic. She thought she had mastered the spell, and two weeks ago had decided to put an end to his trouble. Unfortunately, She cast the spell, and woke up six hours later on the floor of her bedroom. She couldn’t hear or speak for two days, and could only stand for minutes at a time. She felt like she had run headfirst into a cement wall.<br />
<br />
“Damien, listen to me. I thought this was all about trying to bind your powers. You’re more powerful now then when you first showed up. You’re like a Goddamn nuclear event,” Allysa pleaded into her brother’s chest, as they glided across the floor.<br />
<br />
“It was about that at first… but the power is quite seductive. I thought I wanted to be normal again, but …” His laugh was low and malevolent. “I’m having second thoughts.”<br />
<br />
She pulled away but he spun her into a quick turn and brought her back to his chest, “It’s dark magic. You could do so much good… instead of this chaos … Things have got to come to an end. You should never have done this. You shouldn’t turn people into stories. You shouldn’t treat people like they were characters, like they’re just things. But if you do… you have to know how to end the story.”<br />
<br />
Damien growled, “If I do… then I have to put on my red-hot shoes and dance the night away? Or perhaps climb happily into my oven?” He twirled Allysa around the floor and the waltz continued.<br />
<br />
***********************************************<br />
<br />
On the sidelines watching the melee of collegiate partying unfold, three members of the academic frat sat stoically. The academic frat was comfortably known as the Geek Frat. Fred, Kent and Howard were prime examples of this definition. Dressed respectively as a cop, a fireman, and a construction worker. They looked more like the Village People. Their meek frames swam in the large costumes.<br />
<br />
Fred, the most dramatically brave of the trio, was tentatively sipping a beer. He was managing to conceal his grimace of disgust beneath his large fire helmet. Kent, tall and gawky in his cop’s uniform, was making a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with anybody. Howard’s construction helmet kept knocking his glasses down and forcing him into an awkward hunch.<br />
<br />
These were the ruling body of the “Gambda Geeks” and were quite frankly the most gallant examples of their fraternity’s membership. Makes you wonder what the losers looked like.<br />
<br />
Fred coughed uncomfortably, “Nice party.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Kent agreed.<br />
<br />
“Quite,” parroted Howard.<br />
<br />
“Interesting house.” Fred offered.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Kent agreed.<br />
<br />
“Quite,” parroted Howard.<br />
<br />
“The beer is very cold.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
“Quite.”<br />
<br />
Fred fumbled with his firemen’s coat, “Perhaps we should go dance?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
“Quite.”<br />
<br />
But none of them got up.<br />
<br />
As the three friends continued their self-conscious conversation, three other friends wandered by, drunkenly. “You know what this party fucking needs?” roared Leo.<br />
<br />
“no… hic… what?” asked Reece and Preston. <br />
<br />
“Strippers!” Leo mused.<br />
<br />
“Fuck yeah!” Agreed Preston.<br />
<br />
“Slutty, foreign ones!” Reece offered.<br />
<br />
Leo clapped his buddies on the shoulders and led them back to the waiting revelry. “Yeah, that only know how to say “I want to fuck!”<br />
<br />
“In cages!” yelled Preston.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, cages!”<br />
<br />
Fred watched the three notorious ringleaders of the jock frat stumbled off. “Well, that was rude.” he muttered.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
“Quite…. Uh..uh…ahhhh…” Howard groaned as he bent forward clutching his arms around his body in pain. The construction hat rolled to the floor and his glasses slid off. He doubled over in agony.<br />
<br />
Fred and Kent jumped up in panic. “Howard! What’s wro..uh…uh..ahhh….!” Fred bent over and grabbed the back of his chair as his body spasmed uncontrollably. Kent’s long-limbed form writhed beneath him on the floor.<br />
<br />
Howard’s shaved heard erupted in a spray of dark locks. Tendrils of glossy and tangled black hair snaked down his shoulders like writhing snakes. Shiny and well kept dreadlocks framed the panicked white face. His grimace grew more profound as his jaw distended into a huge chin and thick masculine jowl. His teeth were huge and white, behind a grin that betrayed not a hint of intelligence. The lips parted and puffed until they protruded, purple and pendulous. His nose flared. And flared. And kept flaring. Heavy bovine nostrils hung from an elegantly delicate bridge. His eyes slanted slightly and lightened to a dreamy and unfocused light blue.<br />
<br />
The pal texture of his skin darkened to a deep russet mocha with sunspots and freckles dotting his bi-racial hide.<br />
<br />
The dull eyes squeezed shut in pain as Howard’s tiny 5’7”, 135 lb frame erupted beneath his costume, leaving tattered pieces of fabric to snow down around him. His body flexed and stretched to a tall 6’4”, and his scrawny limbs began to swell and bulge with meat. His neck grew thick beneath the dreads, making a trunk up to his thuggishly pretty face. His pecs inflated to ridiculous proportions, and his shoulders spread wide, to accommodate the mass of his big muscled tits. His biceps bulged like melons along the ridge of his toned and taut arms.<br />
<br />
Howard grunted as he felt the miniscule weight between his legs drop like a sac of quarters had landed in his lap. A huge 13 inch cock snaked out from behind a pair of tiny little water patterned briefs. His thighs vibrated as they began to expand into awkwardly distended dimensions. His butt pushed out so far off the seat, he fell to his knees. The big huge ass wobbled, as his giant thighs hit the ground.<br />
<br />
Howard struggled to stand. The ridiculous proportions of his exaggerated musculature made it difficult. On the lithe tight frame of a toned and athletic black man were a pair of bloated pecs, football sized biceps, a pair of thighs big enough to lift a Mack truck and an ass that could be a bumper on one.<br />
<br />
Howard Began to jiggle childishly to the dance music. His water patterned briefs set off his exotic skin tone, as did his huge white horse teeth. Howard could feel the riotous grin splitting his face in half with pleasure. The harder he smiled and jiggled, the harder it was to concentrate.<br />
<br />
All thoughts of bio–chemistry, next semester’s study abroad program, and his DVD’s of Star Trek leaked out through the tension of that cadaver’s smile. Howard felt his now powerful and heavy islander’s body shimmy and shake. He pushed his giant man ass out rhythmically and succumbed to the joy in his wide, unflinching smile, and the giddy brainless joy in his dance.<br />
<br />
Hakim bent down and pulled his construction helmet on over his dreads. He was so lucky to be here dancing. He was so lucky not to be back in the Dominican Republic paving gravel roads with his Grandpapi’s construction crew. He was lucky to have big muscles and big cock, for Americans to look at.<br />
<br />
Hakim climbed up to a waiting cage, stepped in and as his inter-racial ass began to shiver, his shit-eating idiot’s grimace split for one second, so he could shout in a deep tilted roar, “I WANT TO FUCK!”<br />
<br />
On the floor, Kent struggled beneath the confines of the policemen’s uniform and snaked out of them like he was shedding his skin. Kent, tall and ill at ease with his height since birth, began to shrink from 6’5 down to 5’ll. His dark brown hair began to lighten until it was the colorless shade of an icicle. The frumpy and unpleasant features of the Debate Squad regent captain and the campus chair on moral conduct, reshaped and realigned. His features now had the sharp angles and defined planes of an ice sculpture. An aquiline jaw led like a cliff to two impossibly high cheekbones that could cut glass. Pointed Slavic brows rose above sea green eyes.<br />
<br />
His smaller body shivered as his body fat plummeted and his muscles quivered to perfectly proportioned specimens of perfection. Perfectly proportioned shoulders led to wide but perfectly proportioned pecs. Abs cut like diamonds led to a groin covered with a flimsy sea green thong that exposed the length and considerable girth of his translucently pale dick.<br />
<br />
The hair on his body fell off like shards of glass, leaving him bald from his neck to his perfectly diamond shaped calves.<br />
<br />
Kent lifted his bony angel’s face from the floor and stared at the cage in front of him. His hands ran aimlessly over the rugged planes of his muscled body. His still-long, pale fingers lingered on his ass. He felt the taut strip of his thong in the cleft of the rock hard manscape of his brutal brick ass. He felt the whispered urge to plug the long finger up into the hole.<br />
<br />
Kent tickled his butt as he remembered the long days he spent letting men use it on the streets of Prague. After leaving his native Russia, after he was rejected from the Olympic gymnast’s team and refused entry to the Moscow Ballet. Kechyen didn’t mind the men who would use him. He preferred it. He did mind the police hassling him from tourist spots, and chasing him from hotels. That’s why Kechyen was glad to be in America. In America he could be a sex worker and a cop.<br />
<br />
He jumped nimbly into his cage, his beautiful Slavic face devoid of any thought or emotion. Kenchyen undulated to the music. He began rubbing his severely cut body against the bars. His icy thoughtless resolve broke for one second when he said to the crowd, broken and heavily accented “Iya VANNA FUYCK!!”<br />
<br />
Fred gripped on to his chair like his life depended on it. His body burned with an intense heat that swam up his cheeks and ignited his thighs. He shrugged out of the heavy jacket and slipped out of the suspenders and trousers. The heat pulsated under his pulse. But he was used to heat, growing up on the coast of Thailand he spent hours walking dirt roads in the squelching sun. No, he grew up in New Hampshire where it was cold and green. Desolate roads that he walked for miles so he could work in the city’s brothels until he grew far too big to please the tourists… Fred had never worked a day in his life, except for the college’s elite academic recruiting squad.<br />
<br />
The fire in his veins seethed beneath his skin, bloating his shoulders out and pushing his flabby chest up until his upper body was a barrier of mass. The inferno rocketed down his torso leaving his waist tiny and his stomach flat and thin.<br />
<br />
His shoulders were why he couldn’t stay in the brothels. They were why his father sent him to work at the quarry, where his unusual size could be useful… No, his father sent him to MENSA meetings and Boy Scout camp…<br />
<br />
His long graceful legs stretched out beneath him and his plump swarthy ass blazed as it became a round and fleshy mass of cherubic weight. His long uncut dick was bundled tight in a red g-string that made the slender length of his penis seem like a hose.<br />
<br />
Long lashes stretched from almond shaped eyes as black as coal. His eyes were hazel and he didn’t have yellow skin… yellow skin so bronze it looked like melting butter. Spikes of black hair erupted from his low forehead like flames and his button nose dotted a wide heart shaped yellow face.<br />
<br />
He didn’t understand what was happening … He didn’t understand America… No he was an American… A Thai immigrant…<br />
<br />
It was so confusing… He wasn’t a “Chink” dancer… it was confusing, he never knew if he was a good dancer or not.<br />
<br />
He didn’t like what was going on… He did like the way his snake dangled beneath him, slapping against his leg when he shook… no, he didn’t…<br />
<br />
Fred didn’t understand what was happening to him.<br />
<br />
Phan Yo did not understand why Americans liked it when men danced like puppets.<br />
<br />
Fred was desperately trying to figure out…<br />
<br />
Phan Yo couldn’t figure out what the funny fire hat was for… but if it let the Americans know he was hot, like fire, he didn’t mind wearing it.<br />
<br />
Fred didn’t know…<br />
<br />
Phan Yo did know he was supposed to be in his cage beside the other two men.<br />
<br />
Fred tried… but Phan Yo stood up and crawled bewildered into his place. Phan Yo began to jiggle to the music. The look of complete incomprehensive bafflement was only broken by the smile of joy he got when his long cock slapped against his thigh… He giggled like a confused infant and yelled, “Me Rike the Fouk!!”<br />
<br />
**********************************************<br />
<br />
The largest portrait above the grand staircase was disturbing. It was dark and the oil paints had faded, giving the massive picture a dreamy quality. A heart-breakingly beautiful woman stood aristocratically in the frame. Her hair was the color of midnight. Her skin was the color of snow. Her unsmiling lips were the color of fresh-drawn blood. And her steel grey eyes were the color of hate. Pete never thought that hate could be a color. But those eyes…they were the color of Hate. She was nude and only the barest black cloth covered her pert breasts and the secrets of her long thighs.<br />
<br />
“She was one hot piece of ass.”<br />
<br />
Pete turned to find Drake’s brawny form behind him. “Who was she?”<br />
<br />
“You don’t know?” Drake asked incredulously. “Oh, but that’s right, you’re not from around here… That is Desiderata Vaughn. She built this house.”<br />
<br />
“She looks scary.” Pete mused.<br />
<br />
“She was one high-riding bitch.”<br />
<br />
“Really?”<br />
<br />
“Well the story goes… Desiderata Vaughn was born the daughter of a Gypsy king…(which means basically her father was the leader of a group of poachers and squatters on a local Lord’s land.)<br />
<br />
Desiderata’s beauty was legendary, and her fame was widespread across Bavaria. Men came from across Europe to court her but she refused them all. She was devoted to her family and caring for her aging father. The local Baron, however, soon became obsessed with her and demanded she marry him. Again, she refused and spurned his attentions.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t a great coincidence that shortly after, the local villagers began whispering about witchcraft and thieving Gypsies. Desiderata was accused of consorting with the devil and confined to the Baron’s dungeon. The Baron razed her family’s caravan and dragged the surviving members of her clan to the stake. Devoid of family or protection, he forcibly made her his wife.” Drake paused and gave Pete a reassuring wink, “The morning after their wedding night, he was found in their marriage bed gutted like a pig, squealing and begging for death. Desiderata was nowhere to be found.<br />
<br />
She escaped to the Mediterranean coast and took ship aboard a cargo freighter that was bound for the New World. The men on the ship waited until they were well clear of land and instantly took their pleasure with her. She was raped and used for months before they reached port.<br />
<br />
She landed pregnant and almost dead on an empty ship… the entire crew dead of a malaria outbreak… she was the only survivor and the cargo was all mysteriously registered in her name. She sold the cargo and came here to Remington.” Drake paused, downed a beer and stared at Desiderata’s hate fueled blue eyes.<br />
<br />
“That’s fucking awful.” Pete said horrified, pounding back his own beer.<br />
<br />
Drake turned to him and whispered in a secretive voice, “The legend goes, that she gave birth to a daughter and baptized her in the name of dark gods. She swore that her revenge against men would be visited upon the world so long as a single Vaughn woman walked the earth. And ever since then any man foolish to love a Vaughn woman was doomed.”<br />
<br />
Pete gave Drake a skeptical look. “How do you know all this?”<br />
<br />
Drake blushed, “Well growing up in Remington… Everyone in this town knows the story… especially mine. My family’s all cops. Lots of “mysterious” deaths to investigate.” His eyes grew heavy and sad, “Plus my older brother was married to a Vaughn.”<br />
<br />
“It was Damien’s sister wasn’t it?” Pete asked suddenly… “The one who …”<br />
<br />
“…Jumped from the campus clock tower.” Drake finished.<br />
<br />
There was a long uncomfortable silence, “Is that why you and Damien used to be such…” Pete smiled, “good friends?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah I guess.”<br />
<br />
Pete shifted his weight so Drake and he were chest to chest, their forearms brushed against each other. “I could use a good friend.” Pete propositioned boldly. His cock was rigid beneath his cargo shorts.<br />
<br />
There was a moment of hesitation in Drake’s eyes. It passed quickly. “There’s a room at the end of the hall.” He said it quickly, desperate to get it out before he lost his nerve.<br />
<br />
Pete followed him. The door closed behind them with a click. They were left in an austere bedroom, staring at each other expectantly. Drake shuffled his feet, “Pete… I…”.<br />
<br />
Pete lunged at him. The heat from Drake’s body had whipped him into a state of frenzy. He pushed his groin into Drake’s and sucked the salt from his lip. Drake kissed back forcing Pete against a nearby wall. They grappled like animals. Hands searched taut muscles. Pete clutched Drake’s wide shoulders, feeling their weight as he intruded into the other man’s mouth. Drake savored engulfing Pete’s mouth. He could smell the other man’s sweat, taste it on his skin.<br />
<br />
Pete grabbed hold of Drake’s throbbing dick. His hands massaged it through the fold of the costume. He head butted Drake lightly and forced him against the wall, “I want to fuck you.” Pete’s hand snaked underneath Drake’s balls and his fist began to rhythmically thump against his hole.<br />
<br />
Drake spread his legs wider. He swallowed Pete’s lips and lower jaw in response. They were sticky with sweat and saliva. Two dudes enslaved by masculine passion, unbound and straining for release.<br />
<br />
Drake was fumbling with Pete’s zipper when the alarm on his phone went off. “Shit.”<br />
<br />
“What was that?” Pete barked as he put one athletic leg against Drake’s big ass.<br />
<br />
“My alarm… I told Ally I’d meet back up with her at midnight.”<br />
<br />
Pete rubbed himself against the wide ass, “Fuck your beard.” He mumbled.<br />
<br />
“Ya,” Drake breathed, “fuck her.”<br />
<br />
Pete ran a big hungry hand down the slope of Drake’s butt… “Wait, midnight?”<br />
<br />
*****************************************<br />
<br />
Rick had Stew’s stripped pants wrapped round his ankles and Stew’s shirt was tied tight around his wrists. Stew had him bent over the edge of a chair and was working his ass over with one crude finger.<br />
<br />
“Sorry ‘bout this mate, but last time you damn near kicked me in the face.” His cellmate explained.<br />
<br />
“Just fucking get on with it.” Rick demanded. In prison you take your pleasure where you can get it. Stew was gentler than most cons, but he did like to have his cock serviced regularly. He felt Stew’s big callused hands grasp his butt. Rick clenched his teeth, prepared for the pain. Stew slammed into him with a grunt and Rick bit back his scream. Stew’s groin slapped against his ass repeatedly and the con’s thick cock tore him apart with each thrust. Rick was whimpering and struggling against his bonds. It wouldn’t be so bad if his cell mate’s dick wasn’t so fucking huge. Rick felt like he was being scored by a goddamn flagpole.<br />
<br />
“Say it!” Stew ordered. His breath was heavy and hot on Rick’s neck. “SAY it!”<br />
<br />
Rick knew what to do now. This meant at least that Stew was close to shooting. “I’m your bitch.” Rick whispered.<br />
<br />
“Who’s my bitch?” Stew roared, slapping his ass as he fucked it.<br />
<br />
“I’m YOUR BITCH!”<br />
<br />
*******************************************<br />
<br />
The frenzied energy of the party began to crescendo. Couple’s were breaking up, getting back together, marriages were proposed, affairs were carried out, long-hidden secrets were revealed and new ones were being kept.<br />
<br />
In the center of it all, dancing like strangers in a burning room, were the youngest Vaughn siblings. Allysa and Damien stood solitary on the dance floor. Alone but surrounded by the student body of Remington University, they moved to a furious waltz.<br />
<br />
“Allysa, You need to learn to squeeze a little more fun out of life.” Damien instructed as he twirled his sister across the floor to the booming orchestration of the waltz. “We were born to be bad… and the stories! Ha, to be in the secret hidden center of them? To be the butterfly that flaps its wings and spawns tornadoes in people’s lives!”<br />
<br />
Allysa began to register the chaos surrounding them, “Is that what’s going on here?”<br />
<br />
The Demon smiled triumphantly. “Of course.”<br />
<br />
Allysa’s golden curls shook in disbelief, “You can’t effect this many people at once.”<br />
<br />
The Demon laughed and rolled its eyes, “Can’t? You wouldn’t believe what I’m capable of, Madam, especially here on my home turf.” His black cloak spread wide as his arm swung motioning around the grand hall.<br />
<br />
“Then why not do something beneficial, do some good?”<br />
<br />
“Who says I’m not?”<br />
<br />
They moved in unison, graceful and elegant. Black cloth soared next to swirling white as their frantic waltz leapt across the room. As He lurched her up from a quick dip, she rounded on him, “Tell me before I seek worthier pastures, and thereby restore self esteem… How can you be so short- sighted, to look never further than this week or next week… to have no impossible dream?”<br />
<br />
They continued to bound across the floor. Damien was leading Ally and their cloaks were crashing like waves. He spun her wide and replied, “Allow me to help you slink off to the sidelines and mock your ado with three cheers! But first tell me who’d be delighted if I said I’d take on the world’s greatest problems, from war to pollution, with no help of solution. Even if I lived for one hundred years!”<br />
<br />
**********************************************<br />
<br />
Paulo laid on his back on the wide banquet table of Coeur Creux’s formal dining room. His thickly muscled soccer legs were pulled up tight against his hairy abs, and his ankles dangled in the air. The cheap skirt rocked back to reveal his stiff boner.<br />
<br />
His well-toned and furry chest glistened with cum. He had a seriously dopey grin on his face and a look of supreme contentment.<br />
<br />
Four of his frat brothers stood around his used and cum-stained form, jerking themselves off. He was so lucky to have such hot guys around his well fucked form.<br />
<br />
He was so glad they were into him. He felt like the prettiest girl on campus. Not one, but four of his brothers thought he was so pretty they wanted to fuck him. He felt like the luckiest girl at Remington. He worried that he was an ugly girl, but after four totally studly frat boys fuck you till you’re sloppy and loose, it was confirmed you were pretty.<br />
<br />
One of the guys above him moaned and Paulo smiled. The boy’s seed spewed across his smiling face.<br />
<br />
“Fuck my pussy, boys!” He slurred and pointed to his red and swollen ass.<br />
<br />
******************************************<br />
<br />
Drake and Peter staggered out into the hall. “I have to find Ally.” Drake said, shaking his head in confusion.<br />
<br />
Peter steadied himself on the railing, trying desperately to regain his bearings. He pushed his glasses on and looked up at Drake, “Look Drake,” He fumbled feebly, “We don’t have to tell anyone about that.”<br />
<br />
Drake gave him a baffled look, “About what?”<br />
<br />
“About… what just happened.” Peter offered.<br />
<br />
“What?”<br />
<br />
Peter shifted his weight shyly… “You know…”<br />
<br />
“What? Me explaining that painting to you?”<br />
<br />
“No about…” Peter looked down at one pale hand and his immaculately polished loafers… “You don’t remember?”<br />
<br />
“Remember what?” Drake demanded Impatiently.<br />
<br />
Drake was all too eager to grab his ankles for Pete but he barely had time to be polite to Peter.<br />
<br />
“I gotta find Damien.”<br />
<br />
Peter ran down the grand stairs in a hasty retreat. He was desperately searching for the witch.<br />
<br />
He launched himself onto the dance floor and directly between the dueling Vaughns. “Damien! You got to help me.”<br />
<br />
“His help has a price.” Allysa spat. She gathered her luminous white skirts and strode away. She turned with one last angry conflicted look, “Keep an eye on him, Peter. He’s got super-powers. Maybe he’s so powerful…“ She said the last part deliberately and slowly, making every syllable a stab wound, “He might just decide … to… fly.”<br />
<br />
The words landed like a blow. The Demon’s face paled and for a moment Damien seemed all too human and wracked with a terrible wave of emotion. If Peter didn’t know better, he thought Damien’s lip trembled. It was just a moment though. He dismissed it and went on with his dreadful grimace. “Fuck you.” Damien spat, as Allysa stalked away. “What do you want, Rabbit?”<br />
<br />
“You gotta do that again. Make me Pete again.”<br />
<br />
Damien looked puzzled, “Make you… oh, you mean that spell… that let you see how things could have been different for you? The closeted jock costume I let you wear?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, that! I felt great! I was confident and hot, and Drake was totally into me…” He rambled on excitedly.<br />
<br />
“No.” Damien laughed and walked away in an eddy of shadowy black cloth.<br />
<br />
Peter chased after the voluminous black cloud. “Why not? You were right! I had been a coward… I did have choices… Now just…”<br />
<br />
Damien spun on him, the silver painted Demon’s face twisted in scorn, and the eyes glowed azure blue, “No, Peter. I’m no fucking fairy Godmother. That was a lesson, not a gift.”<br />
<br />
“But… a lesson? What was I supposed to be learning?”<br />
<br />
The Demon dismissed him with disdain, “That there are no easy answers! No glass slippers that can make your dreams come true. Wishing gets you nowhere! You need to grab life by the balls, and twist till it does what you demand. I wanted you to see how pathetic you truly are.” He watched Peter’s face dissolve in humiliation, and reveled in it, before adding, “And that I am NOT your friend.”<br />
<br />
“But…” Peter stammered.<br />
<br />
“But, nothing! You are not my friend, you simpering little weaking. You are just a tool.” He laughed a rich rolling gale, and the azure light squinted in mirth, “I know you hear that a lot but I mean it in the most literal of terms.”<br />
<br />
Peter could feel the tears pouring from behind his glasses, “I hate you.”<br />
<br />
The Demon smiled contentedly, “Good. I do enjoy being hated. It shows you’re having an affect. It’s like a cold bath on a warm day. When stupid people fume in their futility, when they’re beaten and all they’ve got is that yawning in the acid pit of their stomachs… well, to be honest it’s like a prayer. It makes me even more powerful.”<br />
<br />
Peter wanted to just crawl away and die, “You’re a monster.”<br />
<br />
Damien sighed, “It would be easier if I were, Peter, but I’m just honest.”<br />
<br />
Peter yelped something inaudible and ran from Coeur Creux, stifling sobs.<br />
<br />
The demon that was Damien Vaughn had little time to enjoy the young collegian’s pain, however. From the front doors there was a large commotion and what Damien recognized as his little sister’s high-pitched scream.<br />
<br />
Drake held Allysa tight to his chest as they both stared in horror at the scene playing out in front of Coeur Crux’s majestic doors. A young black man, looking beaten and bewildered, stood facing Leo, Preston and Reece. He was enraged and apprehensive. The poor kid looked like he had been through hell, and returned for revenge.<br />
<br />
What made him slightly unsympathetic was the 6 round pistol he now had aimed at Leo.<br />
<br />
The entire crowd pulled back from the scene, leaving the macabre tableau as the center of attention.<br />
<br />
“You bastards set me up!” He yelled halfheartedly. The young African American assailant seemed to be painfully aware of all the bystanders and the inconvenient amount of witnesses. He was shuddering with terror.<br />
<br />
Allysa recognized him immediately as Clive White, the young running back recently expelled from Remington.<br />
<br />
“You planted that coke!” He almost cried.<br />
<br />
Leo raised his hands and motioned for Clive to calm down. “Now just relax…”<br />
<br />
“You relax, mother fucker! You ruined my life…” Clive twisted in conflict, then found some inner resolve, “YOU RUINED MY LIFE AND NOW YOU MOTHER FUCKERS ARE GOING TO DIE!!!” He raised the gun.<br />
<br />
“NO!” Allysa Screamed.<br />
<br />
And then suddenly Damien was there, striding through the crowd, forbidding and unstoppable. He strode through the throng of horrified Greek celebrants like a force of nature unleashed, like a rush of blood to the head. He moved with inescapable and indomitable intensity. “Stop.” He commanded.<br />
<br />
“No!” Clive roared. The pistol shook in his nervous hands. His face was a picture of desperate agony. The gun trembled violently. “They ruined my fucking life!” He turned his rage on Leo and aimed the gun. “You did it! You fucking did it! I know you did!”<br />
<br />
Leo, no matter what he may be, was not a coward. He faced his execution with a stoic acceptance. Terror and fury bled from his eyes, but he did not shake.<br />
<br />
The spell that was unleashed so long ago was done with games of fate and destiny. It had feasted on the party-goers, devoured Rob and Ben, and tainted and twisted Damien. These were simple. It wanted something tangible. It wanted something ritualistic. The spell wanted blood. Damien could feel the weight of the energy around him. The magic was twisting every possibility so that Leo’s blood would inevitably stain the marble floors of Coeur Creux. The weight of it was like the gravity of a smiling moon.<br />
<br />
He wasn’t about to let that happen.<br />
<br />
He raised a tense and straining hand. His mind blazed with a terrible fiery pain.<br />
<br />
“THEY GOT TO FUCKING PAY!!”<br />
<br />
Damien’s nose leaked blood down his chin. His eyes blazed with light. “Yes, they do.”<br />
<br />
Leo braced himself for the gunshot.<br />
<br />
Ally screamed.<br />
<br />
Clive closed his eyes and pulled on the trigger.<br />
<br />
“BUT …not… like… THIS!”<br />
<br />
The room exploded in a blinding blue light. The light evaporated memory, reworked history. It shoved aside reality and made the party nothing more then a midsummer night’s nightmare. A terrible tempest of fate and time whipped through Coeur Creux like a gale. The chaos spread out and consumed everything… and in the center of the maelstrom, basking in the glorious mystic pandemonium, was Damien Vaughn, laughing like a mad man.</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-54892039095970573902011-01-20T13:57:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:32:00.994-08:00BMOC: Envy and Gluttony<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Chapter 3: ENVY AND GLUTTONY<br />
“A Word from Our Sponsor”<br />
<br />
“You’re a fascist!” Alyssa snarled.<br />
“You’re delusional.” Rob snapped back. <br />
There they sat: Alyssa the undisputed queen of the most altruistic sorority on campus and her ego-maniacal rival Rob, the current president of both the jock Frat and the Greek Senate.<br />
“How can you be such a bleeding heart liberal? You come from one of the most influential families in town?” Alyssa ignored him and shuffled her papers testily. Rob eyed her with contempt. Not only had she turned him down every time he offered take her to dinner or suggested a study date, now the bitch was arguing with him. “You know Alyssa; I would think you of all people would be able to understand the current Republican Economic Agenda.”<br />
Alyssa Vaughn straightened quickly as if she had been slapped, “That is possibly the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me.”<br />
Their Economics discussion group had quickly deteriorated into an all out war of political ideologies. Alyssa, ever the bastion of New Deal Fundamentals, and Rob, the poster boy of reganomic’s, were frothing at the mouth for each other’s blood.<br />
“Illegal immigration is undermining the economic security of American jobs.”<br />
“American jobs! Do you know the kind of jobs illegal immigrants perform?” Ally yelled, “They do the jobs that no one else will. They wash dishes; they mow lawns, all the labor SOME people feel they’re above.”<br />
Rob scowled at her; he didn’t like being argued with. He had become accustomed to autocratic obedience, “PERFECT POINT! If we get rid of all the Border Jumpers then we can fix the Social Security system. We can get all the free loaders off of that.”<br />
“Fix the social security system?” She sputtered<br />
“Ya If a Mexican can mow a lawn, a retard can!”<br />
Leo from his vantage point at the back of the classroom turned to peter who had been quietly trying to melt into the background, “Hey Peter, you’re pretty fucking handicapped; you think you could mow a lawn.” He laughed loudly. His two buddies Reece and Preston, the respective place Kicker and halfback of the football team laughed along.<br />
The professor cleared his throat loudly, “We’ll continue this discussion next week.” He said, effectively dismissing the class.<br />
The entire class breathing in relief from being released from the clash of the campus titans, escaped quickly.<br />
Leo grabbed his leather satchel, Reece and Preston quickly fell into line behind the arrogant quarterback. He passed Alyssa and summed up his own foreign policy, “First we get rid of the Spic’s then we put all the Niggers back on boats to Africa.”<br />
Ally hissed like she had been burnt, “Still pissed off about that Transfer student? The new running back stealing all you press, Leo?”<br />
Leo’s place as the most biddable team member to make the draft was now a bit precarious. After a few months of undeclared dictatorship and many financial promises from different agencies and scouts, he was now second place. The new running back was getting courted and getting all the choice deals, that Leo thought he had on lock. He could feel the money slipping through his fingers and he had been rampaging the campus ever since.<br />
“Fuck you.”<br />
“Ya Fuck you.” Reece chimed in.<br />
“Bitch.” Preston said.<br />
All three athletes left the room without a look back.<br />
Alyssa rubbed her temples. So much negative energy. Ugh… <br />
“I’m sorry,” Rob apologized, “He’s just real upset about the deals falling through.”<br />
Alyssa smiled; at least Rob still had manners. “Thank you.”<br />
His smile grew purposeful “You want to grab some lunch? I just have a few fliers to drop off for Congressmen White and then I’m free.”<br />
“White? That corporate lackey? Tell me you’re not helping campaign for that bigot.”<br />
“Of course I am, he’s got great connections in the beltway. There are a lot of positive aspects to the republican plat form, especially for people in your financial situation.”<br />
“I think I just lost my appetite.” Alyssa told him and stalked off.<br />
Damn it. He was the big man on campus and Alyssa was the most viable girl. How could she not see that they belonged together? They would be the perfect power couple, if the stuck up bitch would just uncross her damn legs.<br />
Rob Grabbed his own books and headed to his car, he had a long afternoon of distributing campaign material to local businesses.<br />
After class Peter rushed to his compact little Honda. He turned the key in the ignition, and then almost had a heart attack.<br />
“Lindsey Lohan is Absolutely Bat shit crazy.” Damien told him, putting down a recent issue of people magazine. <br />
“How the fuck did you get in here?” <br />
Damien tilted a pair of sunglasses and gave him a flat look, “Does it really matter?”<br />
Damien looked different again. His bulky frame was hidden in a mass of Sky blue sweats and what looked like bright red bangs stuck out of a blue ball cap. Thick black mutton chops rested across his cheeks.<br />
“What do you want?”<br />
“I told you, the spell’s going to strike again,” Damien smiled fondly, “like lightening.”<br />
Peter eyed him wearily. After Seeing Ben reduced to a 50’s fuck toy, he was a little frightened of Damien. But his dick was rigid with anticipation. <br />
“Buckle up Rabbit, We’re going to church.”<br />
After fifteen minutes of bad directions and limited conversation, they pulled into a parking lot. The fifteen minute drive was silent except for Damien’s running commentary on the ups and downs of Hollywood celebrity. He was just finishing off a tirade about how in his day, you hired a damn driver and NEVER EVER carried your own cocaine, when they pulled up to the local townie Gym.<br />
“Where are we?”<br />
“The Steel Mill Gym, Rabbit.”<br />
“I thought you said we were going to church.”<br />
Damien eyed him skeptically, and then leaned in conspiratorially, “You’re really bad at this whole “Being gay thing” Aren’t ya?”<br />
Peter didn’t understand the comment and got the feeling that Damien was making another joke at his expense. “Now what.” He demanded acerbically. <br />
“We wait.”<br />
“For what?”<br />
“Well Rob’s in their right now and we have to wait till he comes out.”<br />
Peter looked at him quizzically “Why don’t we just go in?”<br />
Damien’s eyes grew tight and angry. He shifted uncomfortably, “Too many Damn Mirrors.”<br />
Inside the gym Rob was trying to convince the local owner to support a state wide resolution on penalizing landlords from renting to illegal immigrants, by voting for a current proposition on next month’s ballot.<br />
“How long is this going to take?” Peter wined. “I have class at twelve.”<br />
“What does time have to do with anything?” Damien asked as they got out, and stood beside the little foreign car.<br />
“I don’t have much time.”<br />
“Of course you do, you have as much as you want… or none at all.” Damien answered cryptically.<br />
“What do you mean?”<br />
“Time is perceptional… it doesn’t really exist… it’s just a way for you Neanderthals to count between big fire ball come up and big fire ball go down.” He lectured flamboyantly. He drew a small bottle from his hoody and took a sneaky swig.<br />
“Time does to exist! You can’t just say dates… hours … months…years are all relative concepts.” Peter argued irritably. He was getting quite tired of Damien sputtering bizarre theories as if they were fact.<br />
Damien gave him a long steady look of contempt. “Americans… you’re so ... so …” his lips curled around the word like a vile curse. “Linear.”<br />
Peter gave a frustrated sigh. What is that supposed to mean?”<br />
“You think time is some big line stretching into infinity.”<br />
“Isn’t it?”<br />
“Christ no.” he drew a big circle on the dirt ground with his feet. “That’s time.” he gestured to the circle. “What has happened ... is happening now. What will happen has already happened.” <br />
Peter gave him a look that spoke ominous volumes of incomprehension. <br />
“Time is a circle, overlapping into infinity.” Damien said with a pleased smile. “My magic doesn’t just alter the now. It reshapes the past to reflect the changes to the present. I’m no mere magician turning a scarf into a dove. The actual change might seem to happen spontaneously, but the real change has happened in the past and the present is rushing to recalibrate.” He grinned beatifically and then most unceremoniously hiccupped. He pulled a flask from the pocket of his hoody and took another quick swig. <br />
“You’re drunk!” peter breathed accusatorily.<br />
“What of it?”<br />
“It’s 11 in the morning.”<br />
“In the words of a great philosopher it’s 5’o’clock somewhere.” Damien shrugged. “I told you time is perceptional.” Then he shrugged. “I’m not feeling very well lately.”<br />
“And that’s supposed to make you better?”<br />
“Well ya see when I was little, my granny used to give me a hot cup of tea with a little whiskey in it, when I was sick.” <br />
Peter gave the bottle in his hand a long steady look.<br />
Damien shrugged. “I’m out of tea.”<br />
Peter was going to once again point out that Damien was nuts. But realized how useless it would be.<br />
It was then that Peter saw Rob exit the gym. Damien noticed to, he made no motion to move but Peter saw his mouth moving slowly, <br />
“Crossing Lines of Vice and sin<br />
Let one breath out let one Breath in.<br />
Color the eyes green and rough<br />
Too much of a good thing, is never enough<br />
Crossing lines of sin and vice <br />
Retread now the same path twice…”<br />
Rob seemed to stand motionless for a minute and then quickly turned around.<br />
Back in to the gym. He was suddenly ready to argue a second round with the dim-witted Gym owner. The fucking meat head had to see reason eventually, Congressman White’s agenda for the small business owner was comprehensive and efficient. <br />
He was walking into the vacant lobby when he realized no one was there. Where had all the people gone? He searched unsuccessful and was about to give up, when he heard a commotion from the weight floor.<br />
There was a large crowd gathered around the leg equipment. Ron stood up on one of the machines and peeped over a whole gym’s worth of bystanders. The audience had gathered to watch some work out. Not just some one. The guy looked like several some ones. He was massive. <br />
The main attraction was a darkly tan Spanish guy grunting underneath the weight of a 2200lb leg press.<br />
The guy was massive and he was bulging out of every inch of flesh with strain.<br />
“Impressive isn’t he.”<br />
Rob turned and was face to face with an equally impressive man. He had had short cropped dark brown hair and a big frame, underneath a USC sweater.<br />
“Julio’s going to be a fierce competitor.” The guy mused.<br />
“Competitor?”<br />
The guy smiled broadly, “Professional Bodybuilding competitions.” He explained then extended his hand, “Hi, My Name’s Steve Conners.”<br />
“Rob Cameron.” Rob said shaking the hand. “He’s huge!”<br />
“Yeah, he is. We’ve been training together for two years.” Steve said proudly.<br />
“You train with him?”<br />
“Oh no, I’m his Sponsor.” He could see the blank look on Rob’s face. “I help him.”<br />
“Oh… Is it hard to get that big.” Rob asked his throat dry with envy.<br />
“OH… yeah…Let me get Julio cleaned up and I can explain it to you.”<br />
It was a short time later that the three of them were walking in the parking lot and Steve was offering him a ride back to campus.<br />
Rob didn’t know why he was in this guy’s Hummer. HE didn’t know why he had agreed to the ride back to campus, but it all seemed to make sense. In the back seat Julio was panting like a big dog. He had changed into a silly tank top that said prom queen in gold sequins and a pair of tiny jean shorts. His big bloated muscles were packed into the fucking ridiculous clothing.<br />
The huge Latin beast was staring out the window, looking excitedly at every piece of suburban countryside like it was an alien planet. <br />
“He doesn’t get out of the city a lot.” Steve said giving Rob a knowing grin, “And they didn’t exactly have suburbs where he comes from.” <br />
“Oh.” Rob answered.<br />
“So you were looking for a sponsor kid? I mean you’re in decent shape but you’d need to put in about a year or two of training.” Steve told him.<br />
Rob fumbled, “I really wasn’t looking for a sponsor, and I just wondered how a dude gets as big as Julio.”<br />
Hearing his name, Julio looked up. His pretty Spanish face lighted up and he said in a thick Puerto Rican accent, “¡mi nombre es julio, de que es yo!!” and then his gargantuan pec’s bounced while he giggled.<br />
Steve smiled affectionately, “It sure is buddy.” He turned his attention back to Rob, “Well, to get as big as him you really need a sponsor. A coach, who can afford to help you afford steroids, supplements, maintain your diet… and who also knows how to help you train to maximize your gains.”<br />
Rob listened intently. He knew he had a good body but a secret part of him was eager to get bigger. Have a Better body, be envied for it the way people envied his position and brains. He wanted everything and more of it.<br />
“And that’s what you are? A Sponsor?”<br />
“Oh yeah.” He smiled, “It’s not easy but I love it. I’m a personal trainer and I used to do body building competitions but now that I’m older I like to help guys out the way people helped me out.”<br />
Rob considered this silently. His long term plan didn’t really fit into lifting weights twice a day eating and sleeping all day… but it was relaxing to imagine. <br />
“If you think Julio is big…”<br />
“Julio es grande. Julio es una bestia total del músculo!” Julio barked behind them flexing a massive double bicep. “OUCH!” he snorted as his elbow slapped against the window.<br />
“…HE is real big, but I sponsored this dude once who got real huge. I’m talking a cut defined 300, now he was a real monster.”<br />
“Really?” Rob asked interested.<br />
“Ya, it was a couple years ago. I met him when he was just graduating high school…” he paused. “You sure you’re interested in this bud?”<br />
“Ya.” Rob said feverishly interested. Some dude bigger then Julio? Shit that guy had to be huge. Bet there wasn’t a dude bigger.<br />
“Well, he was a real bright guy. He was the valedictorian of his class. The kid had the total genetics for it. He was right out of high school, 6’3 and 180… kind of slim but with some serious training that could get huge.”<br />
Rob let Steve’s soothing voice wash over him and listened with rapt attention.<br />
“Well let’s see… I was passing through this poe dunk town in Texas, Flagstaff.”<br />
“I know where that is,” Rob chimed in, refusing to admit that that was also the town he was from.<br />
“The kid was working as a lifeguard at one of the local pools. I was trying to tan up for a contest and was lounging.” He gave Rob a glowing smile that seemed like it would eat him alive. “I could see him watching me. You know when you’re a bodybuilder you can feel guys envying you. Looking at you with such hero worship and feel them wishing that they could even compare to your physical perfection.”<br />
Rob’s eyes glittered in recognition.<br />
“So he was making every effort to get a glimpse of me and about the 10th time he wandered by me, I struck up a conversation.” HE smiled wolfishly. “The kid was all over me with workout questions and compliments. I could see the hunger in his eyes. We talked for a very long time, sitting their by the pool… Fuck it was dark by the time we were down.” He turned toward the back seat where Julio was stupidly fumbling with the child lock window, his massive arms giggling with comic strain, “Julio knows what my long talks are like…” Steve’s voice sounded almost sinister.<br />
Julio smiled his big meat face idiot grin. But it didn’t seem to touch his eyes. His eyes looked a little haunted.<br />
“After we had our little talk, the kid had a whole new plan for his summer break. He had a scholarship in the fall to some preppy east coast school, but for the summer he had decided to stay with me in LA and let me sponsor him. I told him by august I could probably have him ready for a Teen competition. Of course, his parents had problems with it…” Again Steve’s voice was ominous, “but the kid was totally obsessed with the idea.” <br />
Rob heard the tone in Steve’s voice but didn’t notice. He was really jealous of this kid. How fucking lucky. To meet a pro bodybuilder and get to spend the summer in LA? Shit he had worked by a public pool for an entire summer, listening to screaming kids and their white trash parents for three blistering months… nothing that great had happened to him.<br />
“So, the Kid came to stay with me in LA. As soon as he got there I put him on his very first cycle…”<br />
“You gave him steroids!” Rob exclaimed, shocked.<br />
Steve gave him a condescending look, “If you think any man gets into competition shape without chemical enhancement, you’re really naive,” His smiled brightened charmingly back to the approving grin, “Plus, what else is a sponsor really for.”<br />
“I had him on pretty basic but high dose, of DECA and Sustenon Injections and a large amount of D-ball orals. We ate, trained in the morning, ate, slept, ate, trained again, ate, and slept. It was the prefect first cycle.” Steve explained with satisfaction. “By the end of three months he had put on a solid twenty lbs.”<br />
“He only went up, to 200?” Rob asked disappointedly.<br />
Steve laughed, “You sound just like him. He got a taste of the juice and hand a bull on to get huge. But it was the end of the summer and he had to go back to school. Heavy growth… Monster growth takes years of cycling. He wasn’t big enough to participate in the Teen Shows. He was real disappointed. I really felt for the poor guy.”<br />
“So how’d he get up to 300?”<br />
“Well, see that’s why guys with real potential need a sponsor. I could tell the kid wasn’t going to be happy with just 200. But he was convinced he had to go to this fancy college and use his scholarship to better himself. He talked about studying economics, maybe becoming a broker.” Steve sniffed. “Sounded like social climbing to me.”<br />
Rob decided to keep the fact that his major was economics to himself. <br />
“He was a real smart kid though. That was his problem.” Steve looked at Rob with a vicious look that made his grin seem maniacal. “There’s a reason Bodybuilders are dumb. They need to be focused and driven with a simple obsession. Eat. Lift. Grow. Repeat. Hardcore bodybuilding is years of repetition and dedication. An intelligent mind usually can’t maintain the necessary level of blind commitment required to such mundane brute labor. Sure smart guys get big. But they don’t get to be HUGE. They’ve got things that distract them from their motivation.”<br />
“That was this kid’s problem. So… I helped him.”<br />
Rob’s voice was quiet with horror, “How did you help him?”<br />
“Real Pro’s are simple dudes, they’re real happy just being a little less intellectual, not so clever or flat out dumb. But that clarity of mind makes them awesome Trainers.”<br />
Steve glanced in the rear view at Julio, who had dozed off during Steve’s story. His big Latin lips were drooling lightly on one engorged pec and he was cupping his balls through the tiny cutoffs, dreaming happily. “Julio,” Steve barked.<br />
He woke up immediately, “SI?”<br />
“Who’s stupid?”<br />
“Mi estupido!” HE responded with the quickness of ingrained behavior. His smile betrayed not a hint of thought.<br />
“Who is?”<br />
“SI Mi MUCHO Estupido.” He clapped happily, the tiny girl’s tank top almost splitting under the weight of his hunky body.<br />
Steve’s smile chilled Rob to the bone.<br />
“So I helped the Kid. Bout mid summer, I started giving him mild doses of Halydol and Lithium. Not a true chemical lobotomy but enough of one to keep the kid well sedated and happy. By September he didn’t give a shit about college and was to busy worrying about his next cycle. That’s why you need a sponsor, so one who knows better, to intervene for you.”<br />
Rob was so horrified he just stared transfixed at this guy he had thought was totally normal, but turned out was a total nut job.<br />
“He still thought of himself as a genius, a fucking valedictorian,” Steve almost spat. “I had to take care of that. He really had to see himself as a bodybuilder to truly excel. He had to know that that was his only real option. If he knew that he was this Whiz kid that would only distract him. So I sent him back to school.”<br />
“But I thought you said you didn’t want him to go to college…”<br />
“Oh not college pal,” Steve patted his leg in the reassuring gesture you’d give a child. “I had him enrolled at one of the local high schools.”<br />
“But if he had already graduated…”<br />
Steve laughed softly, “Oh kid I’ve got friends and connections that could make entire towns disappear, getting one hayseed from Texas enrolled at a local public school was nothing. That fall he was a high school senior again but instead of all those advanced placement and AP courses he had taken before, I made sure he was in the most remedial classes possible…” He chuckled a little, “Even a few Special ED classes. We went back to training and I changed up his cycle again, some D-ball with Trinabolin and Winstrol. He was really packing on the size. After a month though he got some serious Roid acne. Poor guy, He was a walking roid pimple for the first couple months of school. Made it real hard for him to make friends. You know how it is…” His voice was mocking, “New school, big kid with lots of acne and all those hormones making him feel awkward and weird. The sedatives couldn’t have helped much either, made him real doped up and confused most of the time. He developed a real bad Stutter too…” Steve laughed deeply. “It w-w-was h-h-half impossible to talk to him sometimes…” His eyes glinted darkly, “I can’t imagine where he picked that up…guess he got it from feeling so awkward and shy.”<br />
Rob had stopped questioning the implausibility or shock of Steve’s story. He was just focused on the impossible life this poor kid most have had under this psycho’s tutelage.<br />
“The Kid had never really played a lot of Sports in his original High school. Most of his muscle was from working his father’s ranch.”<br />
Rob had a fleeting thought of his father’s own ranch and how he himself had never had the time between all his studying and his ranch hand responsibilities.<br />
“The football and Wrestling coaches were all over him. I was glad to let him participate. They’re training only augmented and complimented his intense pre-school and after school weight lifting. Poor Kid though, he never got to play. Couldn’t keep his Grades up. HE was constantly ineligible because he was always failing everything. Between waking up at 5 and doing dead lifts with me and his tranquilizers, he was pretty much a zombie during school. Fucking Kid couldn’t even pass Art. Eventually it really broke his spirit. He was this huge beast wandering friendless and confused through school without any hope. His Teachers treated him like a child. The other kids called him a moron. He begged me to let him drop out…” Steve’s smile grew broad, “… of course I let him.”<br />
“But he still knew he had been..”<br />
“Oh no he didn’t, after that he always thought of himself as a dim-witted high school drop out. I convinced him that that was the truth.”<br />
“But…”<br />
“I can be very convincing when I want to be, isn’t that right Julio.”<br />
Julio’s face was very still and sad, “Si.”<br />
“I said isn’t that right, baby,” Steve reached behind his seat and grabbed one of Julio’s exposed brown nipples and tugged hard, making the enormous pectoral bounce.<br />
Julio shuddered in pleasure rubbing his big smooth caramel thighs together, “Si! Papi SI!”<br />
“Now the kid was ready to be totally committed to his goal. I had really helped him a lot that first year. I guess it was at that time, during his second year… HE was up to a solid 250 by then, and he really looked like a bruiser. I mean 250 is big on anybody but I had been meticulous about his diet and cycles. But he still wasn’t as big as he could get. I knew that his body needed a rest, so after his weight had leveled off I gave the steroids a break and let his training relax to one work out a day. But that left the kid with alota time on his hands. I loved having him around, but by then he wasn’t very much for conversation. And as thick as he had become after prolonged drug use and no stimulation my big boy was kind of bored. So I got him a job.”<br />
“A job.” Rob’s voice sounded hollow and distant to his own ears. <br />
“At the orange County Juvenile Detention Center. They were a little weary about hiring a high school dropout… I faked a GED though and after that his size totally convinced them. He made a great security guard. By then he wasn’t taking any tranquilizers anymore, so he was really able to involve himself. He made such a great model to all those little punks. They worshipped him. He was so glad to find some friends and acceptance after two years of solitude, with me as his only real company. He really loved that job. I guess he did that for about six months… He would come home everyday excited about all the stories the Inmates told him. He spent a lot of time just listening to them talk about their crimes… their home lives… Their drug use. He was a real friendly ear for those little degenerates. <br />
It was easy for him too. Growing up that close to the Mexico border, he spoke enough Spanish to communicate with most of them.”<br />
Steve shrugged, “It’s orange county, most of the inmates were gang members and shit.”<br />
“Yup he really liked it. But he had to start training hard core again, and fortunately he lost his job at the most convenient time.”<br />
“He lost his job.”<br />
“Oh yeah…” Steve said with a sly smile, “Seems all the recreational drug talk among the inmates made him real interested in “experimenting.” And like any good sponsor I was only to happy to get my big boy what he needed. No meth of cocaine though. That would have screwed up his metabolism and I didn’t need the big goon getting addicted to anything. <br />
He did develop a big taste for E though. I’d come home from work 4 out of five days a week and find his big ass sweating, clenching his jaw, and staring at bright lights. They say E eats holes in your brain… so I thought it would be good in the long run. Also made him real Horny. Shit that big fucker needed to get off all the time. So what can I say? I helped him out a lot. I was his sponsor after all.”<br />
Paul’s stomach shifted, he was going to be sick.<br />
“It was either Ecstasy or a K-hole. But he was usually high. He got caught smuggling some into his buddies and was fired. It was a real big deal. Only my own connections kept him from serving time himself. That was hard for him; my big boy spent the next three weeks crying. When he wasn’t training, eating or sleeping.”<br />
“That cycle was his best gainer ever. I introduced HGH, human growth hormone into the mix… and shit he took to that like you wouldn’t believe. I gotta be honest with you though, I had one of my Vet friends hook me up with some Horse Hormones… and SHIT. That fuckin shit made him balloon like a fucking magic potion. BY the beginning of his second year he was a fucking scary 275. The Hormones gave him some wicked side effects though. Did you know that HGH distorts your jaw? It’s so fucking funny. The more of the shit you take the more like a Neanderthal you look. He had a real Hard core bodybuilder’s body and a real hardcore bodybuilder’s steak eating Ape face.”<br />
“It distorts your features?” Paul asked. His voice sounded funny, kind of muffled and it felt like he was talking through cotton.<br />
“Oh yeah, one of the side effects of long term exposure to hormones. And the poor guy started to suffer from one of the other ones too… One of the other side effects of roids… Poor bastard couldn’t get hard anymore. If you juice too much, your body just stops producing enough of its own testosterone to keep an erection.”<br />
“That’s fucking awful.” Rob exclaimed.<br />
“Ya I think so too. But my big guy didn’t care. He was too obsessed with getting bigger. Too much was never enough for him. But it wasn’t that bad. He was real self-conscious about it. You know going on stage in front of people, this big muscled bodybuilder with just a tiny bulge in his posers…” Steve chortled. “So we fixed it. If his dick didn’t work then at least it could look bigger. We got his scrotum and dick injected with silicon so he could have a nice thick sack on stage. It was kind of obscene and exaggerated this big huge bloated pouch. But at least he wasn’t embarrassed anymore. And by then he was competing in Competitions for his Pro card. He was huge and had a bunch of amateur titles under his belt. He was really close to picking up his Pro card and getting some corporate sponsors… I was real excited for him. I was a little sad to. If my Big guy got corporate sponsors he wouldn’t need me anymore, but them’s the breaks. When you’re a personal sponsor like me, you get used to it. Fortunately I never had to worry about it. What with his accident and all…” <br />
“Accident?” Paul practically croaked.<br />
“Oh yeah… The Dumb Bastard was doing skull crushers with a fucking 45lb bar and 65 lbs on both sides. He let the damn bar slip.”<br />
“OH god.”<br />
Steve reached over and patted Paul’s Shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry he was an honest to god bone-head numb-skull by then, he wasn’t hurt badly. He did break his nose though… And he needed some serious reconstructive surgery afterward.”<br />
“It wasn’t that bad, actually, and he was able to get back to training in a few weeks. He never really was satisfied with how it looked afterward though. He thought his nostrils were too small, so I had to keep paying to get rhinoplasty. He was real obsessed with it. He had them make his nostril holes the size of quarters eventually, and then they broadened the bridge of his nose… and even put some cartilage from his ears in the tip to make it big and round. But that wasn’t enough… My big boy never got enough…”<br />
Rob didn’t know how long they had been driving for but he was pretty sure they weren’t on their way back to campus anymore. He wanted to say something. Have Steve stop the car… pull it over…but he just sat mesmerized. <br />
“You know in LA you see a lot of people who get addicted to plastic surgery… It’s never been my thing but MY boy… he developed a real… taste for it. After all the work on his nose, he decided his lip looked small in comparison, so we got him some collagen. He was happy with that for a while… but not long. He convinced a surgeon to implant gauges around the base of his gums so that his big puffed up lower lip would stick out more. Then the upper lip was too small… so more collagen. And then of course he needed his jaw line augmented to look bigger… then came the cheeks… the cheeks were the worst he wanted big aquiline cheeks that looked puffy and defined…”<br />
“Wow that’s a lot of fucking elective surgery.” Steve said.<br />
“I know but I couldn’t say no to my boy. All in all it took two whole years till he was satisfied. The surgeries didn’t stop him from lifting and juicing though. But they did keep him from competing… can’t go on a Pro Show stage with half your face in bandages, huh? IT was after he healed from his last surgery that he was real upset.”<br />
“It wasn’t until then?”<br />
“Oh yeah, he had just had an eye lift and his ears stapled. He was staring in the mirror. HE did that a lot. He was probably in a K hole. I wouldn’t let him Do E after surgery with his pain killers but I didn’t see a problem with the Ketamine. HE came to me all upset. This big muscle beast the size of car, crying. Crying! He said they screwed up the eyelift. They had tilted his eyes and slanted them, making him look squinty. I told him I thought he looked like a big red headed Mexican.”<br />
“That really upset him, but I told him that being ethnic could really help him get his pro card. Judges are always trying to diversify the sport. They’ll always go for the minority instead one of the 8 white guys who look just like each other. I had to keep at him about it but he eventually agreed to go to a competition and try the angle.”<br />
“You were going to fake being Mexican.” Rob struggled to clear his voice, it was really getting difficult to speak… it was like his mouth was swollen or something.<br />
“He was real convincing. I took him to my stylist, and she did him up right. First she bleached out his hair making it all fried and fuzzy, then she dyed it all an inky black. She gave him a thin black pencil mustache and goatee. To finish it off with that real south central LA Mexican gangsta look, she put his nappy fried black hair in short braids. I had her give him some real expensive black tattooed eyeliner, and then I started putting red and brown food coloring in with the high pressure spray tanning he used before competitions. He really looked like a three hundred pound Mexican gorilla. He didn’t like it at all. He had this real hang up about Mexicans. You know growing up that close to the border; Texans have an attitude about ‘em. Calling ‘em border jumpers and cactus monkeys. I made a deal with him, if it didn’t work, we’d dye his hair back and try to fix his face, we could even give up on the whole Professional Bodybuilder dream and maybe he could go back to Corpus Christi or where ever he was from… He was three hundred lbs… cut… lean and bulging from every direction. He wasn’t going to get much bigger.”<br />
“Did he win?” Rob asked.<br />
Steve’s smile was wide and terrible. “Of course he did.”<br />
“He got his Pro-card under the name Javier Ramirez… No one was going to believe his real name. After that Javier continued to dye his hair and tan all the time. …” Steve’s face grew dark and irritated at a specific memory… “But he must have been real excited at the possibility of going back to Texas, because one morning I went to wake him for our morning training session and he was gone. The Big Dumb Bastard had managed to buy his retard ass a bus ticket. Two actually, cause that fucking beast wasn’t fitting in one seat.”<br />
Rob breathed a sigh of relief for the kid in the story, “So he got away.”<br />
“Oh no, He was back in two weeks. He had gone home and tried to see his family. But they didn’t fucking recognize him. His own father threatened to shoot him if he didn’t get off his land. The gigantic Spic showed back up at my place in LA, crying and hysterical about how he had no place to go. It had only been about three and half years by then but he had changed so much no one recognized him. He left Texas a brilliant gifted lean red headed white kid, and gone back a muscle bound gargantuan Mexican who could barely write his own name or speak without stuttering. He was really distraught. I was actually worried he might hurt himself. So being a good Sponsor I helped him again.”<br />
“h-h-how c-c-could you possibly help him?” <br />
“I convinced him that he was a muscle bound gargantuan Mexican who could barely write his own name or speak without stuttering.”<br />
“That’s Imp-pah-pah-ossible.”<br />
“I told you I can be very convincing.”<br />
“No.” Rob disagreed<br />
Julio lumbered forward from the back seat and put one big creamy honey paw on his shoulder, squeezing affectionately, “Steve principal puede hacerle hace lo que él desea. Usted no tiene un muchacho del blanco del rezo.” Julio’s hand slid down and patted Rob’s massive pec familiarly.<br />
“By then, all the pieces were in place. I encouraged him to forget all about Texas. All he remembered was being a high-school drop out in LA. I used all his memories from working at the Juvie Jail and all the Mexican gang kids that were his friends to replace his old memories. As far as he was concerned he WAS Javier. A stupid Drop out who was in and out of gangs and Juvenile hall… until he met me. HE was nothing but a petty, drug dealing, border jumper until I introduced him to bodybuilding. He was very grateful.”<br />
“T-t-hats H-h-horrible.”<br />
“Oh he was happy as a big muscle-bound moron pig in shit.” Steve answered firmly and unapologetically. <br />
“I was real upset he tried to runaway though. I told him he couldn’t compete anymore, and that I wanted him to start paying me back all the money I had poured into him. He was too stupid to get a job on his own so I got him a job where Julio works, stripping. He makes some money on the side, selling party drugs to the customers and that lets him feel like a big tough guy. But how tough can you be, even if you are a 300lb hulk, when your cock’s useless?”<br />
Rob was about to answer when Steve abruptly parked the Hummer. “We’re here Boys.” He got out of the car and shut the door. <br />
Julio Bounded out of the back seat and Rob at a loss for what to do, followed.<br />
“This way boys.” Steve said motioning to a door at the end of an Alley.<br />
“Si papi.” Julio chimed happily.<br />
“Si Papi.” Rob answered.<br />
Steve lead them through a serious of twisting corridors that he and Julio managed to navigate without a problem. Rob however kept brushing at the walls and stumbling over the closeness of them. He finally showed them into a small dressing room. “Here we are. You two can get ready here. I’m just going to talk to the manager about your show.”<br />
“W-w-hat are you T-t-talking about?” Rob asked confused.<br />
Steve gave him a searching look, “You’re not high are you big guy? It’s cool if you are, just let me know.”<br />
“N-N-No!” <br />
“OH good.” Steve smiled his fatherly reassuring smile, “I’ll be right back boys.” And he left.<br />
Julio began to diligently stare into the mirror and fix his spiky hair. His tanned mocha skin prickled as he smeared baby oil all over his body.<br />
Rob was really confused… where the fuck was he. Steve was supposed to give him a ride back toward campus. Not to some… Shit his head hurt. It was so hard to concentrate. <br />
He sat down into one of the chairs in front of the vanity mirror. The chair looked sturdy but it creaked and felt wobbly under his weight. Rob was real uncomfortable and moved to quickly adjust his junk. <br />
It’s quite a shock to look in a mirror and not recognize the person staring back. It’s even more of a shock when the stranger reacts with your mannerisms. The shock is further compounded when you realize that the person in the mirror is actually you. <br />
The man on the other side of the mirror from Rob was a monster. A gargantuan hulk with blunt facial features, swarthy Latin skin and a look of total heavy lidded, mouth slack stupidity.<br />
“Ohhhh…f-f-fuck!!!”<br />
The guy’s shoulders were as round and defined as bowling bowls. His traps began at the furthest reach of his Deltoid and bowed upward, a huge arc of muscle that made it seem like his huge swollen neck came right out of his chest. The chest was impossibly large and unfunctional. <br />
He had huge Pec’s the width of doormats and with the thick bulky weight of lead filled pillows. The guy in the mirror was wearing a huge white and gray camouflage t-shirt. It was stretched to tearing over his bloated upper body but hung loose and baggy over his narrow waist. The seams of the sleeves were ripped so as to allow for the girth of his thigh sized arms. Thick over worked veins carved rivers up the deep burnt colored flesh from wrist to shoulder. The mound of the bicep was visible even relaxed and his tricep was so distended with muscle that the dude probably could never reach behind him. <br />
Rob stood.<br />
The man in the mirror stood.<br />
A pair of incredibly big jeans were belted with a thick studded leather belt right beneath the groin, giving a glimpse of about 5 inches of a pair of pristine white boxers. The jeans though absurdly baggy could not hide the awkward akimbo stance the beast had to assume to compensate for his huge thighs. They were almost as wide as the huge width of his shoulders.<br />
The spread of his lats really made him seem like he had wings underneath the expanse of his huge arms. His thick wide back descended in an extra angular foot of mass beneath each armpit, forcing the big guns of his arms into an awkward angled dangle. Thick gold chains hung from the grotesquely swollen neck, and big thick gold rings decorated the big swarthy hands. Each necklace had a hugely ridiculous charm on the end. A Cross. A Pot Leaf. A Big clock. One had a single word in cursive script that was the size of a man’s hand and glittered with diamonds, “Javier.” <br />
The guy turned slightly and Rob could make out the green white and red of a tattoo of the Mexican flag on the dude’s bicep. <br />
The guy was wearing a grey ball hat, which perched wide and unfitted on top of a white bandana that hugged his head. Rob catalogued all this with a detached eye, doing everything he possibly could not to look into the big tanned ogre’s black eyes.<br />
A huge ogre face stared back at him. There was no other way to describe it. It was a thick and bulky face that began with a thick layer of tan skin over a protruding brow. The cheek bones were so wide and prominent they seemed to connect to the massive ridge of the Neanderthal brow. The big puffy cheeks would have encompassed the majority of space on the wide flat face if not for the enormous flat and mulish nose. Nostrils that could suck up quarters flared animalisticly with each labored cavernous breath. The tip was bulbous and the bridge arced, so again it seemed like it was connected to the heavy brow. <br />
The jaw was broad and expansive, squaring off right beneath the ears. The ears were delicate. They laid close to the skull and looked almost none exist. This gave the impression of tiny little lobes against a colossal mug. The lips were thick and sensually Latin. They were the color of deep red blood. The lower drooped dim-wittedly with weight and the upper lip was a perfect plump half heart. Both Lips jutted crudely from the gums giving the face a VERY simian countenance, like the giant’s jaw was bigger then his face. <br />
It was the supreme combination of bestial Humanoid and unevolved imbecility. The features and skin color were classically Latin, …Mexican to be specific but were embellished to overstate the tiny, muscle obsessed, brain behind them.<br />
A pencil thin mustache of dark bristling black was barely visible on the puffy inflated skin of the upper lip, and a soul patch was the only thing to break up the red tan skin of the massive jowls. Heavy Black eye brows that almost met at the bridge of the nose were shaved with lines, breaking up the thick dimwitted scowl.<br />
Rob was transfixed, watching the ridiculously mammoth chest rise and fall, struggling to supply the behemoths frame with air. <br />
Anything not to look at those black eyes. <br />
The MASS! The sheer enormity of the body’s ludicrous proportions! He was the size of two large men and his simple movements would be hindered by the grotesquely disproportionate unnatural development. The back muscles were so over enlarged that he seemed hunched forward to compensate for their bulk. His dimensions were so perverted that he looked more muscled buffalo then man. <br />
If he kept marveling at the size… he wouldn’t have to look into those eyes. <br />
The swollen Forearms hanging limply at his sides…<br />
The vastness of those fat heavy quads…<br />
… Those weren’t his eyes ….<br />
The oversized and overfed ass that was ballooning out of the boxers…<br />
Not His eyes.<br />
…But they were.<br />
They were slightly almond shaped and squinted, hidden beneath the shadow of the moron brow, and they were the deep black of indigenous Mexican stock. They weren’t the twinkling intelligent blue eyes he was accustomed to. But they were undoubtedly his eyes…<br />
“Ohh… Fah-uck!” He and the ogre in the mirror both yelled. It was a subterranean yawn that rumbled like a low bark. The voice that escaped his lips was not the melodious orators’ speech; it was an idiot’s thick throated grumble.<br />
“Que?” Julio asked. He was now completely naked and oiling his massive boner. Rob had once thought that this Puerto-Rican bodybuilder was huge. Now he realized Julio was average compared to a true Steroid factory. He was still an impressive specimen of muscle fixation but he was nowhere near the preposterous and unhealthy proportions of the dumb fuck in the mirror.<br />
“W-w-whats… H-h-happening.” Rob woofed, and then completely stunned sat back in the chair. It crumpled underneath him like paper. He was on the floor, staring wildly around the room. Julio was there next to him in a moment. A look of deep child like concern appeared on the pretty face. <br />
“¿Es usted bebé aceptable? ¿debo ir consigo el steve?”<br />
He wanted to scream. The thought of that Lunatic Conners returning made his enlarged heart flutter in panic. “N-N-N0” <br />
“Venido aquí y le ayudaré a conseguir listo. Usted parecerá muy caliente.” Julio offered, putting a big mitt on the swell of his rear delt. Something in his personality responded with accustomed obedience. It was like he was used to obliging automatically to commands and suggestions, grateful for the help. He raised his arms to his sides and Julio Pried the xxx-large t-shirt from him. <br />
He stood and Julio helped him out of his pants and boxers like a nurse undressing a fragile patient. “OOOOHHH G-G-god my B-b-b-ah- lls…”<br />
Rob looked down over the mass of his fantastic chest muscles, the nipples of which were invisible underneath the mountainous crest of the tit. His vision stretched over the bricklike cobblestones of his roid-gut at an obscene caricature of fleshy cartoon Genitals. His sac hung droopy and inflated against his granite thigh, two huge balls the size of grapefruits swung beneath a gargantuan wrist-sized but obviously unfunctional cock.<br />
Julio smiled brightly, and patted the travesty, “Si es Gordo, et Moy Macho.”<br />
“M-M-Madre D-D-Dios!” Rob exclaimed his jutting lower lip quivering. What the fuck was that? His brain was slow and felt like paste.<br />
Julio handed him a jockstrap and he unconsciously lifted his tree-like legs and slid it up the pillars of brawny man meat. He handled the weight of his balloon-like manhood with both hands, stuffing it comically into the pouch of the jock until it looked like a white ribbed melon hanging between his legs. <br />
He grabbed Julio’s hand in desperation, “W-h-hats going on…” <br />
Julio, mistaking the gesture for affection, turned and leaned into Rob giving him a sloppy but enthusiastic kiss. The other Spanish man’s tongue darted in and out of his mouth tasting his lips. “WE Dance! You are so forgetful.”<br />
“W-w-what.”<br />
Julio shook his big body flamboyantly demonstrating, then he gave Rob’s Whale sized ass an oily smack, “No se preocupe. Una esta noche más última rellenaré su extremo. Le taparé para arriba. Justo como usted tenga gusto.”<br />
Memories flooded to him unbidden. His useless cock leaking cum like a faucet… unable to get erect but still able to respond to his prostate being plowed by the other Man. Julio Fucking him after Nights of dancing while Steve watched. Steve massaging his prostate with a bat sized dildo till he purred and creamed like a woman. Him on all fours while Julio Climbed his ass like they were rhinoceroses Steve lubing him up and fucking him for hours after working out…and always always the need for bigger… longer…more… anything he could cram into the big butt to force his worthless dick to dribble….<br />
Rob grabbed his head and howled, “N-n-O!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
They had left the gym in the early afternoon but by the time Peter pulled up behind the deserted hummer they had been following it seemed like it was midnight. Maybe Damien could manipulate time. The ride seemed quick. It had been relatively quiet as well, sporadically interspersed with Damien clutching his head in pain, and complaining of a splitting headache. This was invariably followed by a swig from his flask. On one occasion Peter even managed the nerve to ask, “What the hell is wrong with you anyway?”<br />
“Spell’s so strong.” Damien mumbled almost incomprehensibly from behind his hands. “It’s warping time… altering probability… pulling to it whatever it needs with the force of a tornado. It’s beyond screwing with just Rob, Leo and Ben… It’s yanking other people in to serve its needs…”<br />
“And this is causing you pain?”<br />
“Yes.”<br />
“Why”<br />
Damien looked up, his eyes for a moment seemed to glow a brilliant azure, “I’m very focused on not focusing on it.”<br />
After that Damien seemed to settle down. But he didn’t speak again until they had parked.<br />
“Where are we?” Peter asked gazing around the darkened alleyway.<br />
“A Den of Sin.” Damien answered his smile returned and his tone was low and menacing. “A dark warren of pagan rights, where men sacrifice everything on the Alters of lust and vanity. It's a terrible place, where desperation and self doubt hunt the weak. It's a place, where the strong are swallowed and consumed by Ego.”<br />
He stepped out of the car and he was no longer wearing blue sweat suit. His clothes had changed with the slam of the car door. Now he was sporting a pair of loose fitting stonewashed jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His red hair jumped in gelled flames from his head. “Here, Men participate in acts of carnality… vain attempts to escape or be accepted…”<br />
Peter got out of the car. He was very confused.<br />
Damien rolled his eyes, “It’s a gay bar, peter.”<br />
“What are we doing here?”<br />
The larger well dressed man turned to him, “You know Rabbit the consistency of your irritatingly Questioning personality is quite charming,” He opened a back door to the bar, “I need to make sure that Rob’s succumbed to the spell…” He tossed his empty flask in a nearby dumpster, “Plus I could use another drink.”<br />
The corridors in the back of the bar, seemed to wind and twist in a thousand places. Peter was very curious as to what was behind all the doors they passed. He followed Damien Through the halls silently. Damien as always was gliding purposefully with his elegant yet indomitable stride.<br />
He paused outside a door where raucous laughter and noise poured from. Inside were two long tables of vanities and in front of them nude, muscular men and boys were in various states of preparation. Some of the men wore nothing, some of had only a silver cock ring around their bobbing erections. <br />
Peter stared hungry and dazed at the frenzied scene. His eyes coveted every curve of the gorgeous go-go boys and strippers. He was desperately trying to commit to memory every stolen voyeuristic glance of their perfect muscled forms. <br />
Beside him Damien stood like an ice sculpture, not reacting at all to the debauchery. “Lovely ladies going for a song, Got a lot of callers but they never stay for long.” His voice was hollow and Peter might have mistaken it… but also sad. “Come on captain you can wear your shoes…Don’t it make a change to have a girl who won’t refuse.”<br />
Damien put his back to the scene and they were rushing up the corridor when he stopped again at another open door.<br />
Peter stepped into the room tentatively. Two huge bodybuilders stood together inside. Both were obviously Latin. The bigger one… The monstrously enormous one, was darker then the smaller pretty one who was trying to comfort him. The big one had to be 300lbs and he was crying hysterically, tears streamed down a red and frustrated face. <br />
They both looked up at him. The pretty one regarded him vacantly from behind long dark lashes and the bigger one continued to sob uncontrollably.<br />
“Sorry…” Peter exclaimed backing up, “We’re looking for a guy named rob.”<br />
The Mammoth Mexican’s head shot up and he shambled on big clumsy legs toward him, “I-I-I is R-r-rah-ob!” The Spanish Ogre chortled at him in a voice so deep it was difficult to understand.<br />
Peter’s brow creased in confusion, “No we’re looking for a guy from my college named…” Realization and horror dawned on Peter in one terrible instant. He flushed from cock to forehead and began to sputter.<br />
The Mexican Bodybuilder grabbed Peter’s arm and the grip was so strong and physically powerful that peter squealed in pain. “P-P-Pah-eter? I-I-it’s ME R-r-rah-ob…” A voice like a tuba said to him. He held peter tighter. Peter felt like a rag doll in the barbarians hand, “P-P-Please you g-g-gotta help me!”<br />
Peter turned to Damien who stood in the doorway. His face was a mask of disinterest. “Damien…”<br />
“Come along Peter,” His voice was emotionless and was all the more terrible for its lack of sympathy, “We’re done here.”<br />
Damien turned and left.<br />
“Pah-p-please you gotta help me!” The Rob beast was crying again. His daunting musculature shaking with panic and anxiety, “P-P-Please Peter… I want to g-g-go home.” Peter looked in dismay at the broken and desperate man in front of him. What could he do?<br />
“I-I-I D-d-don’t know what to do…” The hulk blubbered incoherently… “W-w-what’s going on…”<br />
Damien. Damien could fix it. Damien cast the spell… He could break it. <br />
Peter put an apprehensive hand against the Mexican gargoyle’s damp cheek. “Don’t worry Damein’ll fix it! He’ll know what to do.” Peter turned and ran after the evading Mage.<br />
Rob just stood planted, bawling harder into his hands, “p-P-Please c-c-come back!” He shook violently, his two ton body convulsing like a small volcano, “I w-w-Want to G-g-go home.”<br />
“Don’t worry Javier, we just have to finish this gig and we’ll be back in LA in no time.”<br />
Rob looked up into the reassuring and comfortably familiar eyes of Steve Conners, his Sponsor. “B-b-b-ut… I live…” <br />
Where did he live?<br />
Why was he crying?<br />
He was so confused.<br />
“Oh Javier, are you coming down off something?” Steve asked concerned.<br />
“N-n-no…” He had sold the last of his E to some guys at the gym this morning and hadn’t packed any acid because they had flown.<br />
“Okay, you just let me know if something is wrong. I’m here to take care of you.” He gave Rob an affectionate pat and Javier smiled back at him.<br />
Why had he been crying?<br />
So weird.<br />
Steve smiled at him and he felt a lot better.<br />
From behind him, his boyfriend Julio hugged the mass of his Lat’s affectionately.<br />
Ya it would be good to get home, things were a lot less confusing at home in LA.<br />
Javier and Julio followed their sponsor up to the stage, excited to earn him some money by gyrating and wiggling for all the tiny little girly men in the crowd. Javier loved to intimidate the scrawny little guys while watching them sprout hard ons. Julio rubbed his hand affectionately…<br />
Ya it would be good to go home.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Peter Chased Damien frantically down the maze of the club’s backrooms.<br />
“Damien!”<br />
“Damien!”<br />
“Damien Please!”<br />
“Damien please you have to help him.”<br />
Damien’s eyes blazed, “Weren’t you the one who said they should pay? You wanted them to get what they deserved?”<br />
“Not like this.” Peter whispered his stomach turning.<br />
“Oh, everybody wants to go to the party but nobody wants to pay the piper.”<br />
“Why are you doing this anyway? Rob could go back to being the Campus Republican Bureaucrat for all you care.” Damien kept walking away, ignoring him. “You don’t give a fuck about any of this… so just make it stop… change him back.”<br />
Peter felt that over the course of their tenure together he had seen every one of Damien’s myriad of personalities… But when the larger man rounded on him, he was face to face with a new one. Rage and wild fury blazed underneath the surface of a macabre sneer. “I need to End this Spell, so that I can cast my own from that book. I need these meat puppets to go down as fast as possible.” He spat. Peter stepped back in fear. “I can’t use the Binding Spell until this one has run its course. Meanwhile, my power is building and building like this spell is, and if I don’t Dam it up soon, little rabbit, you’re going to have a front row seat to something really cataclysmic!” He swung a bulky arm and strode away angrily.<br />
Torn between fear and concern, Peter started running to catch up with Damien’s large purposeful strides. “Look… I’m sorry… I’m just…”<br />
Damien wasn’t paying attention. He was gliding around a corner of one of the club’s labyrinthine hallways. He stopped, suddenly. Peter careened heavily into the broad span of his back. <br />
Damien’s face was slack with alarm. The anger had dissipated and his big blue eyes were giant pools of shock.<br />
He was gazing like a small child at a large man in a very finely manicured suit. He was quite possibly the most attractive man Peter had ever seen in person. He was tall, dark and handsome. Darkly handsome in a Mediterranean way. His Big Green eyes were staring at Damien with the same defenseless gaze.<br />
Blue Eyes Met green eyes. Sparks seemed to fly in the distance between them. Heavy shoulders slumped underneath the lapel of the expensive suit, and the Large Italian man, sighed loudly, “Damien…”<br />
Damien didn’t respond. He just stood stupefied, but then the ice melted from his eyes and a slight smile sprung up across his lips with all the warmth of a summer day, “Say it again…”<br />
The big swarthy face erupted in a smile just as warm, “What?”<br />
“My name… It’s been so long… Say my name again…”<br />
“Damien.”<br />
The witch’s face contoured in adulation and torment. After a moment of terrible emotional turmoil, the softness Of Damien’s eyes quickly hardened and his flat expressionless veneer descended again. His hand flew up and all the lights in the hallway winked out. Peter was grabbed and hurtled through a pair of wide double doors, onto the crowded and brightly illuminated dance floor.<br />
“Move.” Damien barked, with a quick look over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed. The Big Italian was in the darkened doorway, looking frantically for the escaping witch. <br />
“I can’t.” Peter squeaked against the crush of sweaty shirtless bodies on the dance floor.<br />
“Oh yes you can!” He needed a distraction. Not like this. They couldn’t meet like this. He was tenuously holding onto control of his mind and magic. What was that big Goon doing in this hell hole anyway…This wasn’t how he wanted it to be…<br />
A distraction. <br />
He grinned broadly at the idea forming in his mind. “Oh yes you can…CAN CAN CAN!!” He shouted. The DJ’s deep house mix skipped crazily and the music seemed to lurch until it settled back down into a high octane Electronic hurricane, “EVERYBODY CANCAN!!!”<br />
And they did.<br />
The entire dance floor separated into a wild line of high kicking and exuberant dancing. Madcap dancers were suddenly twirling passed them in impossible formations of rowdy dance troupes. The insanity effectively opened up a clear path for their escape to the club’s front doors and cut off any pursuit. <br />
Damien dragged peter through the insane spontaneous Dance number and they both went tumbling into the darkened street. <br />
Gino was watching the pandemonium in horror. His heart was beating fast. He could feel his pulse thumping away at the base of his neck. He had to do something. He wanted to run to Damien, to talk with him. However his intense conditioning prevailed and he was running like a lunatic up the back stairs to Dr. Heart’s office. <br />
He bounded through the big mahogany door. Dr. Heart was seated behind his huge intimidating desk across from another man. The two Big Latin Bodybuilders who had been contracted for the nights’ entertainment were sitting half naked and sweaty on a couch in the corner. They were panting and exhausted from jiggling for the crowd. <br />
“Gino, how nice of you to join us.” Dr. Heart observed scathingly. “As I was saying Steven, Here’s the check.” He added the other younger man a slip.<br />
Steve took the check tentatively, eyeing Heart like a coiled viper, “It’s not that I don’t trust you Duncan. I just always insist on getting my money up front.”<br />
“Oh let’s be honest Steven,” Heart said standing up, “You don’t trust me.”<br />
“Dr. Heart!” Gino couldn’t wait any longer, “He’s HERE!”<br />
Heart gave him a dark scowl. “What?”<br />
“Damien… he was in the club… He was downstairs.” Gino stammered impatiently. <br />
“Steven could you give me and my…” His mouth twisted around a word that didn’t really seem to fit inside it, “… Boyfriend …a moment?”<br />
“Sure.” Steve agreed happy to get away, “Come on Boys. I need you guys to run down to the hummer and get your other outfits. I left them in the trunk.” The Two Bodybuilders got up and trailed their sponsor like obedient puppies. Gino casually noticed that the smaller one was wearing a rhinestone encrusted jock, and the huge one was wearing just a standard athletic jock, it bulged crudely around the mass of his obscene junk.<br />
When the door was shut with a satisfying click, Heart walked from behind his desk, and met Gino face to face. Gino cringed. He outweighed heart by at least 40lbs but he felt like a mouse in a hawk’s claws. “Now, what was so important?”<br />
“He’s here… Damien was…” The slap came so fast that Gino was on his knees before he could finish.<br />
There was a second fiercer blow and he was on his hands. His vision blurred with stars and pain. He felt the warm went trail of blood leaking from his nose.<br />
Heart was casually flexing his reddened hand above him, “How many times do we have to go over this Gino? Hmmm? How many times.”<br />
Gino wanted to answer him but his jaw was sore and his teeth ached.<br />
“We’ve been over and over it. I don’t give a fuck what delusions you created to make yourself okay with your homosexuality, but I will not participate in your fantasies.”<br />
“but..”<br />
The kick from the trendy Italian loafers crumpled him into a ball of quivering pain. “This “Damien”… is just a product of your imagination. A Delusion generated by your inability to come to terms with what a big fag you are. It’s not that I don’t understand that for you, a big macho traditional Italian man, it would be difficult to admit that you’re a cock crazy queer… ” He said reasonably “But I don’t frankly care.”<br />
Gino whimpered in pain on the floor. Heart bent down and pulled his shaking face into his hands, forcing Gino to look at him. “I don’t want to hear another word about this. If I do… You go to the Box.”<br />
Gino shuddered through the pain. Not the Box. He couldn’t go back into the box. Not the box.<br />
“Now get up. You’re bleeding all over my rug.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
From Behind the frame of his little Honda, Peter and Damien watched the semi- nude Jock-strap and go-go boot clad Hispanic Muscle toys. They were ineptly rooting through the back of their Hummer. Julio was giggling like an imbecile while Javier roared gurgling retarded laughter. They grabbed two cheetah style loincloths and lumbered back toward the club.<br />
They stopped halfway there. Javier leaned close into Julio; the sheer mass of their body’s making contact tricky.<br />
“Te quiero Javier. Tomaré siempre el cuidado de usted no importa qué sucede.” Then the two house sized fuck toys meandered hand in paw back into the club<br />
“Well,” Damien, sighed. “That’s actually sweet.<br />
Peter was craning his neck around the vast expanse of the hummer watching the muscle monsters lumber away hand in hand, “What? What did they say? I don’t understand Spanish.”<br />
“Julio told Javier that no matter what happened he would take care of him.” Damien’s voice seemed small and far away.<br />
“So they’re in… love?” Peter asked incredulously.<br />
Icy Blue eyes regarded him quietly, “Apparently.”<br />
Peter was turning the realization over in his mind and caught upon an idea, “Just like Benji and Holt are.”<br />
“Yes.” He answered softly, “Perverse… twisted and vulgar but still… it’s love.”<br />
“Why?”<br />
Damien didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be staring at something far off in the distance, “All my spells have a silver lining. No Magic is utterly Black or completely white, there has to be a balance. Even a curse has an Element of Redemption.” Then he said so low it seemed almost a whisper, “Besides, everyone deserves to be loved… don’t they.”<br />
Peter didn’t answer he just looked at the Witch intently, “You know…” He thought aloud, “Despite it all, you are Still a Decent Human Being.”<br />
Damien Shook his head and began to walk away, “It’s cute that you think that.”<br />
“What? That I think you’re decent?” Peter laughed.<br />
He turned around. His blue eyes positively gleamed with an eerie sapphire light, “No. That you think I’m still a Human Being.”<br />
<br />
</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-47591571260517153992011-01-20T13:55:00.001-08:002011-01-20T18:50:36.873-08:00BMOC: Lust and Vanity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Chapter 2: Lust and Vanity<br />
“The Eye of the Beholder”<br />
<br />
<br />
Time can change everything. For Damien it changed the time zone. He left the field that night without a second thought. He was quite happy to be out of the provincial little town he had grown up in, and on his way toward well… anywhere else.<br />
For the four boys involved in the arcane incident however, time had changed just about everything. <br />
Ben became the closest thing to catnip that the Remington campus had ever seen. It was literally like they were giving away chocolate-covered orgasms at his house. The girls on sorority row had begun to stalk him with the viciousness of lioness on the Serengeti. There were entire conversations in the faculty lounges where female staff members of perfectly reputable morality hypothesized on the size of his genetalia. <br />
The short scrubby little Jewish kid was suddenly hotter then Colin Farrell but as easy to get as one of his video rentals.<br />
Rob was instantaneously crowned the king of Remington Society. His became a shadow that eclipsed all of his peers. From Frat President to Homecoming king, President of The Student Government to the fast track to valedictorian, the hayseed kid from bum fuck nowhere Texas had everything he ever wanted. After years of trying to get ahead in the up-tight east coast elitism of Remington’s social structure whilst simultaneously concealing his accent, his background and his tax bracket he was quite suddenly the envy of everyone in school, and had everything he ever wanted. His thirst for recognition was unquenchable ad he was always hungry for more. <br />
Most impressive of all Leo whose pride had never wanted for embellishment was now Remington’s official poster boy. The pride of the school itself. IT is quite rare; magical indeed when a tiny private university’s previously unknown quarterback becomes the focus of several Pro-Scouts. The bidding war that threatened to erupt over Leo’s services was so grand, that ESPN took a three day stakeout of the FRAT house. He was local celebrity. There was no greater horror then seeing a man who walked all over everyone suddenly being treated like he walked on water. The schoolyard bully that had always lived in him was now unleashed and untouchable. <br />
The fourth boy? Young peter? Well as for young peter nothing had really changed. He was still the cloistered, compulsively shy, door-stop he had always been. But as Damien was quite aware, everything Changes. And that was about to too.<br />
Peter rolled restlessly in the sheets of his dorm bed. The morning light was streaming through the tiny windows onto the cement walls… then suddenly it wasn’t. A large shadow fell across the light. Blue eyes, glittered at him maniacally. “Anne Frank, Anne Frank quick get up… The Nazi’s are here.”<br />
Peter rolled back and recoiled. “Damien!”<br />
“Well it ain’t santy Claus.”<br />
For one instant in his tediously resolute life Peter got angry. “How did you get in here?” Peter managed to demand in a close to authoritarian voice. “You disappear leaving those …those …assholes in hog heaven. They run the damn campus, you know! Just like I told you they would.”<br />
Damien sniffed in boredom. <br />
His gaze shifted to the various scented candles, body sprays and hygiene products on Peter’s dresser. “You know, this room smells like a well cared for vagina.”<br />
“Get out!” <br />
“My thought’s exactly. Put your shoes on rabbit, it’s time for a little field trip.”<br />
After some useless arguing and a mild tantrum, that was met with a flat glare, Peter was following Damien away from the dorms and into the residential neighborhoods surrounding campus. <br />
Damien walked quickly. He absently shifted his gaze from house to house. “The neighborhood’s changed.” <br />
So had Damien.<br />
Peter remembered (peter was the only one who did remember) Damien as being a dark haired brooding ice sculpture of a man. He had been clothed in dark clothes and sporting a goatee that accentuated his sinister veneer. This guy seemed dressed like his trendy San Diego doppelganger. A fire truck red t-shirt with a generic surf board logo, stood out like a four alarm fire over a pair of neon blue board-shorts. The short cropped black hair was now streaked with lines of bleach and deep maroon highlights. The big bulky frame and wide shoulders were the same but the deep tan that now glowed on him, highlighting the vascularity of his forearms added up to a completely different man. Most disturbing of all was the smile. <br />
Damien was smiling. <br />
It seemed very genuine.<br />
It was terrifying. <br />
They continued walking in a brisk silence. Peter strained to keep up to the larger man’s wide graceful strides. “You look different…” He ventured, to break the quiet.<br />
Damien stopped suddenly, and considered, “Do I?” <br />
“Yeah.”<br />
“Hmmm… How strange.” His smile was bright and amused. “I can never really tell how I look from one day to the next. When you temper reality the way I do, it tends to get decidedly squishy around you.” The smile darkened for the briefest of moments and Peter could see the Gothic in the Nuevo. “Not like I can trust a mirror to show me what I look like anymore…”<br />
Peter didn’t understand that. He decided not to try to. “And you seem to be in a better mood… you’re not as a…ah…”<br />
“Foreboding?” Damien offered.<br />
“ya.”<br />
“Intimidating?”<br />
“Ya.”<br />
“Frosty with condescension and contempt?”<br />
“You got it.”<br />
“I was in a down phase of my cycle, last time.” Damien explained with a good natured shrug of his big round shoulders. “After I cast that spell I got a real fix. I’m in the middle of a manic one now. And WHOA, I gotta tell ya I’m chasing the dragon.” Suddenly the smile was chillingly delighted. “I’m a little unbalanced.” He said in a loud comic whisper. <br />
“…unbalanced…”<br />
“Oh yea. That’s why I needed that notebook, my little rabbit. I was hoping it could help me you know… level out… You see I’m a wee bit too powerful. Need to loose a little of the hocus in my pocus before something bad happens.” Twinkling crystal eyes glinted at him. <br />
“Did it help you?”<br />
Damien’s big masculine jaw descended in an exaggerated pout, “No. That stupid spell I cast on those meat sacks is still whipping around out here and stealing my focus.”<br />
“That’s why you came back.”<br />
“Bingo.” Damien stopped in front of a large dilapidated house. An empty Keg sat in the front yard, and was surrounded by a ring of lawn chairs and piles of discarded party supplies. “I just need to tie up a few loose ends.” He looked at the torn screen door and cracked his knuckles purposefully.<br />
“I’ll wait for you out here.”<br />
“Oh no you won’t rabbit,” Damien said shoving him forward. <br />
“That’s Ben and Holt’s house!” HE squealed in terror. “I can’t go near those guys… they’re assholes… they’ll fucking kill me…” He wiggled out of Damien’s grip, “you’re fucking nuts.”<br />
Damien’s eyes grew distant with boredom, “Yes. We’ve already established that. I have reached the border of insanity and am accelerating towards the horizon with blatant disregard. Now move. ” <br />
Peter lurched forward. He was dragged by an unseen force towards the door, as Damien knocked.<br />
Sweat beaded and raced down the back oh his neck. The door opened.<br />
“Sup D-man!”<br />
D-man?<br />
Craig Holt stood in the doorway and grabbed Damien’s outstretched hand. They greeted each other like old friends. Peter’s head hurt. <br />
Craig Holt. And they were going into his house. Craig Holt. <br />
Damien paused long enough to turn to him and whisper in a friendly tone, “One hint of a panic attack from you, and you’ll be breathing out of a respiratory… not a paper bag.”<br />
Peter was now in Craig Holt’s house. A spotted diseased looking carpet stretched across a living room that was decorated with a heavy emphasis of pizza boxes and beer can’s. There was a very familiar pungent aroma wafting over the also very familiar pungent aroma of male body odor and garbage.<br />
So here was the big deal about Craig Holt. He was the one who made the big “deals.” He was Remington College’s answer to Bad, Bad Leroy Brown: The Baddest man in the whole damn town. In the Lexicon of college slang, there is a term known as the “super” senior. A Super Senior is a guy who has managed to stretch his college idolatry into 5 years instead of the standard four. Holt was not a Super Senior. He was a Superfluous Senior. He had been in and out of Remington for more years then anyone could remember. Legend had it that he remained in the sleepy college town because if he left, there would be no man who could fill his place, or fill the co-eds he was notorious for hunting. Being on a college campus more then half a decade garners you two very important things, one a reputation and two the best marijuana connection in town.<br />
He was hot too. He was masturbation Hot. Peter blushed thinking about how he had more then once imagined… <br />
“You hot buddy?” Holt asked in a gravely tenor voice. “I could kick on the air.”<br />
Peter blushed further, “I’m fine.”<br />
The heat was emanating from Holt. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back underneath a red bandanna that matched the torn Slipknot t-shirt that left his bunny trail exposed. His low rise, torn and tattered jeans rose low enough to expose the top of his viciously cut Adonis cleft. Peter was doing everything he could to not look at it.<br />
“Let me go get your shit.” He said, his rough weather-worn, suntanned face smiled so invitingly…<br />
Peter looked quickly down at the floor, but looked up in enough time to watch his high tight ass walk away. He sat down with a lustful sigh. Then stood back up, kicking a video game controller from his seat.<br />
“This is definably a bachelor pad.” Peter winced.<br />
“I’ve seen worse.”<br />
Peter looked at Damien questioningly. “Pleather couches… Wicker tables…” He said rattling off faults, “…dead body in a corner…”<br />
“Dead body in a corner?”<br />
“Ya, I only dated him for a week.”<br />
Peter coughed uncomfortably. “I can’t believe you brought me along to buy pot.” <br />
“It’s not for me. It’s for Alyssa. She smokes more pot then an entire hippy Commune full of glaucoma patients.”<br />
“You talking about Alyssa?” Holt asked sauntering back into the room with a big bag of weed. “Tell her I said, hi.” HE added with a snake like smile.<br />
“That’s how I know Holt. When I was in college here, he was constantly trying to fuck my sister.”<br />
Holt grinned happily, “Me and every dude on Campus. But she’d never give it up.”<br />
Damien nodded and grabbed the bag from him, “And she never will.”<br />
Holt laughed uproariously, “Ya… but nobody must have told that to poor Drake.”<br />
“What.” The Tone in Damien’s voice could have cut glass. <br />
“You know Drake.” Holt said obliviously packing his bong, “He’s that guy you always hung out with. You guys were always buying half’s from me… for like a whole semester. I thought you were tight.” He looked into Damien’s blank expression and shrugged, “Well anyway he’s dating Alyssa now.”<br />
The silence was scary.<br />
“Wanna hit the bong.”<br />
“Oh fuck ya.” Damien was face down in the two-foot bong before anyone could notice the angry look in his crystal eyes. He passed it to peter, who shied away, “Hit the piece and hit it like a man princess, don’t cough. Or you’ll be sorry.” <br />
In terror Peter leapt from Dorm room shut in, to bonafide College life. <br />
“Are you guys smoking?”<br />
Ben came stumbling down a structurally questionable staircase. He was in sweats and a beanie. Nothing else. His body was ripped. Well, it was underneath a forest of dark curly hair …but it was ripped. <br />
“Wake and bake.” Holt said.<br />
Damien’s whole body language changed. He went from comfortably relaxed to intently interested. <br />
There was a terrible clatter from the stairs. A much disheveled girl tumbled forward on precarious heels. <br />
“Jesus Christ Jess why don’t you wreck the place?” Ben snapped, not looking to see if she was okay.<br />
“My name’s not jess.”<br />
Ben lazily ignored her and hit the bong again.<br />
Holt on the other hand got up and offered the messy girl a hand. “Here sweetheart, let me walk you out. I think I gotta move my motorcycle so you can get your car out anyway.”<br />
When the door closed behind them Damien gave Ben a flat stare, and asked “You didn’t know her name.”<br />
Ben laughed conspiratorially, “I should give em nametags. How am I supposed to keep track of every chick that does the walk of shame outta here?”<br />
Damien got up and looked out the window, “she seems to be getting along with Holt pretty, well.”<br />
“Whatever. They’ll be another one tomorrow night.”<br />
“Holt’s still the same dog he was when I went to school here.” Damien was digging at a very specific flaw.<br />
Ben got up and shook his shaggy mane loose, then replaced his beanie. “Whatever. I get as much play as he does… more actually.”<br />
Damien gave him an amused look, “That’s why they call you the Love Troll.”<br />
“What the fuck!” Ben spat spinning around.<br />
To the untrained eye it probably seemed like Damien was casually moving around the garbage strewn apartment. But Peter could see that he was moving with purpose toward a spotty mirror near the door, and being very careful not to get caught in the reflective glass. <br />
Ben followed him pumping for more information, “Who called me a love troll.”<br />
“Oh you know the guys around campus… Alyssa told me.” He was now leaning against the wall next to the mirror. “They just can’t seem to give you any respect. But I guess “Love Troll” is much better then… “Special sauce.””<br />
Ben’s whole face went beat red. <br />
“They’re just jealous…” he stammered.<br />
Damien laughed lightly, “You might be dipping your wick in every chick on campus Ben, but they’re not the A list Hoes … that guys like say…HOLT bag.”<br />
IT was true Ben had slept his way through all the hand me down hoes on sorority row and half the Beer Goggle freshmen. And after two months of that he was getting decidedly bored. He never thought he’d get sick of a new body on his mattress every night, but lately it had seemed like more of a chore then a sport. Thrust, wet, pump, tight, cum … sleep. IT had all become pretty routine…<br />
Damien saw Ben’s weakness and dug in like a seagull prying open a clam, “You know if you put in a little more effort to your appearance…”<br />
“Ya.” Ben agreed absently<br />
“…you know I’m no expert on these things but with some work you could be the hottest guy on campus … the kind of stud that even Holt would have to admit it…”<br />
Peter silently watched Damien turn the worm with morbid fascination. Something caught his eye. Right on the edge of the mirror near where Damien was standing… a shadow… No it was too dark to be a shadow… It was an abyss of impossible darkness right on the edge of the frame… right where Damien’s reflection should be. It was blacker then black. Peter had the gut wrenching feeling that what ever it was, it was aware.<br />
“Damien…” Peter croaked. Desperately trying to warn the mage.<br />
“…Shhhh rabbit… momma’s Cooking…” Damien snapped, still watching Ben gaze at his reflection.<br />
Ben looked at the ragged slacker underneath the dirty glass and said, “I wish I would do that…”<br />
“Done.”<br />
Damien snapped his fingers.<br />
Ben froze like a statue. His eyes were fixed on his reflection with a madman’s intensity.<br />
“Mirror mirror on the wall,” Damien whispered playfully, “Awaken now and Heed my call”<br />
The air crackled and snapped with energy.<br />
“As Helen learned when Venus Told Her,<br />
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.”<br />
The darkness of the moment was broken by the slamming of the screen door and Holt reentering. For a moment he and Ben stared at each other in the frame of glass. Their eyes locked… “What’s going on guys?”<br />
Damien briskly changed gears, “We were just getting on our way. You know how it is. Places to go, people to kill.” He made a quick gesture motioning peter to follow.<br />
“I’ll see you later Holt.”<br />
“Later man. Make sure to tell your sister I said hi.”<br />
“Why are you so obsessed with her?”<br />
Holt considered, “She’s got big hair and a hard body.”<br />
<br />
“I’ll tell her.” Damien turned to Ben and said conspiratorially, “I leave you to get your beauty rest.”<br />
The screen Door slammed behind them.<br />
Holt gave Ben a suspicious look, “what were you guys talking about?”<br />
Ben was still transfixed by his reflection, “Apparently my Frat Brothers are calling me “the love troll” behind my fucking back.”<br />
Holt gave him a quizzical look then shrugged and returned to his bong. Happily sedating himself into oblivion.<br />
Ben ran his hands through his mop of curly dark hair. Love troll? They were just jealous. Jealous mother fucking assholes. He had been up to his ears in pussy since the beginning of the semester. The chicks around campus were on a waiting list for him to cum in them. Jealousy. Just that.<br />
And where the fuck did that Damien guy heard that nickname. “Special sauce.” Ben suppressed a shudder. He hadn’t been called that since freshman year. It was his pledge name. The brothers had had all the fucking pledges do a circle jerk over a pizza. The last one to bust a nut had to eat the pizza. For the rest of the year he had to live with everyone calling him that. They had even gotten them to call him “special sauce” When he tried out for the Olympic gymnastic team. <br />
Those bastards were always trying to humiliate him. “Love troll?” Fuck them. <br />
Ben had learned early on that the best way to get them to leave him alone was to act like he didn’t care. It almost killed his Jewish mother. He still practiced gymnastics’ but he made sure not to stand out. Now he just went with the flow, occasionally went to class, and used his generous allowance to keep everybody high as kites. And when the occasion arose he made it clear he would beat the shit out of anybody who made him a joke. His knuckles were regularly sore from bar room brawls and casual beatings administered to pledges.<br />
Now he was a love troll?<br />
Ben fished into his back pocket. HE fumbled through his wallet and found the shiny silver card he had never used. If his buddies knew he had this… Ben had made a huge show of not being the rich Jewish kid from Connecticut. He kept his bankroll to himself, it would make him standout. All he needed was for those white bread wasp mother fuckers to start calling him a JAP. <br />
Holt finally arrived back on earth. He sat up from his spot the couch, his shirt clung to the bottom half of his lightly furry chest. “HA Ha, he barked “love troll”.” <br />
What made Holt so special? He got laid sure. But dame he had word of mouth. For being a professional senior and part time campus security officer, he sure was the hottest dude in town. What Ben got in quantity, Holt made up in quality. <br />
“Fuck off holt.” Ben spat. He grabbed the Bong from his roommate.<br />
Sure he was tall. Ben’s teeth grated on the word, tall. He was never going to be tall.<br />
Holt was constantly as dirty as Ben was. No one accused him of being a troll. Holt had a craggy worn face that was curtained by shaggy blonde bangs and adorned by a smile that gleamed with the pride of devils and the sin of angels. God the man was handsome. All scrubby, shifty working class with an old Hollywood lothario’s head shot.<br />
His body all gristle and sinew. Holt avoided sports but he was known to brawl in the local townie bars. It was all just so easy for him. He was 6’2 and built like a Viking warrior with no body fat. <br />
Ben himself wasn’t any slouch. He still practiced gymnastics and was second in state last year in wrestling. If it weren’t for his height he would have been the hottest…. Oh fuck that. The chicks didn’t seem to care that he was short, and hairy. He knew that some of the guys in high school had snickered and called him a hobbit. The chicks didn’t care that he was constantly stoned and could go days without changing his clothes. They were eager and ready to be split and pumped. Fuck them if they wanted to call him…<br />
Holt was still giggling from his lounging position on the couch, “love troll.” He laughed again. <br />
Fuck! Ben’s mind howled, and then his hand did. He looked down and realized he was bleeding. The neck of the bong lay in shattered pieces around his feet. Cuts from the broken glass zigg zagged up and down his fingers.<br />
“You broke my fucking bong!” Holt roared and jumped from his leisure. Ben dropped the broken glass, just as he was pressed like paper against the wall. Holt’s face was right up against his. Sweaty hot breath brushed his cheek. He suddenly understood why all those girls whispered and giggled about the guy. Holt’s weight pressed him firmly and his callused hands held him in a vice. “I’ve had that for years you little fuck!” IT was the eyes. Holt’s Green eyes were all animal rage. Smoldering primal fury. He was like a caged beast.<br />
“Sorry man… it was an accident…”<br />
“I should take your fucking ass apart.” Holt growled, instead he punched the wall behind Ben. Holt stomped off to his room. As he went, Ben watched the taller man’s hairy calves flex up and down rhythmically as he climbed the staircase. Ben just stood in shock. He was in such shock actually that he barely noticed he was ramrod hard.<br />
<br />
God those eyes. They were so intense.<br />
<br />
Later that night Ben’s dreams were filled with Holt’s blazing eyes and his words lingered in his mind. Hard bodied…big hair…<br />
<br />
<br />
Fuck the alarm.<br />
Fuck the alarm.<br />
Shit why is that thing going off -I don’t have class till 12.<br />
Oh fuck the alarm.<br />
I reached out and grabbed an empty beer bottle. The bottle flew outta my hand and smacked against the wall. “HOLT Get UP!” Go to work you stupid mother fucker. I’m tired of covering your rent.<br />
Christ now I’m awake.<br />
I’ll just grab my bowl. Smoke. Go back to sleep.<br />
But instead I was up and moving before I knew what I was doing. <br />
I was jogging toward the gym before my head had time to settle into full consciousness. I remembered vaguely that this used to be my routine two years ago. Between wrestling practice and Gymnastic finals, jogging in the morning and lifting before breakfast used to be my regimen. <br />
AT the Gym I met up with Rob and Leo. Leo was barking about how he had just been interviewed by one of the City papers and how he was most likely going to make the front page.<br />
Rob was making some flirty talk with a cute girl on a treadmill until he started spouting his red state rhetoric at her and she jumped off in a huff.<br />
I couldn’t focus on their conversation with me though. I felt grubby in my sweats. I felt like everyone was laughing behind my back. Everyone calling me “love troll”. And having a good laugh at Ben. <br />
Everyone who walked passed me seemed to have smirk on their face. They were all judging me. Mocking me.<br />
I was in the middle of a bicep curl when my temper finally snapped and I threw down the weight angrily. “Fuck this.” I shouted.<br />
Rob got off the military press, “hey man calm down.”<br />
“Whatever.”<br />
Rob laughed and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder, “Geez chill out special sauce.” <br />
Before I knew it I had Rob by the throat and jacked up against the wall. “You ever call me that again man and you’ll be picking up your teeth with broken fingers. You preppy Prick.”<br />
His eyes bugged in shock. I let go of him and retreated out of the gym and toward my car. <br />
Damn, what the fuck was I going to do about this “love troll” shit.<br />
I fingered my Limitless credit card in my nervous hands. The conversation with Damien had haunted me for days. No amount of being stoned could fix this fixation. <br />
This was a solution though. I had driven like a man possessed. I knew what I needed wasn’t going to be found in the small town of Remington. What I needed was cosmopolitan. I drove the two hours and now stood anxiously in front of the first place I saw that provided both things I needed.<br />
I steadied myself and walked into the salon.<br />
It was all steel and white Walls. It was a little like a dentist’s office. “Yo, dude I ain’t got any change so you can just get out.” <br />
A short Spanish guy with tightly lacquered hair crossed the expanse of the shop. “I got a two hundred and forty pound boyfriend upstairs who’ll kick your ass back to the shelter.” Total fairy. And not just because of the glitter. <br />
“You man I just need a haircut.” <br />
“Oh…” The little flamer considered me for more then a minute. “Okay, get in the chair.” He lisped imperiously.<br />
I groaned to myself. I didn’t want this fairy spending all afternoon with his manicured fucking prissy nails in my hair. <br />
But I also didn’t want those guys calling me a love troll either.<br />
“What exactly do you want me to do with this?” He asked disgustedly, when he pulled my skull cap off.<br />
“I just need a cleaner look.” I mumbled. Fuck how was I supposed to know? He’s the fag. He should know what to do.<br />
Then a thought occurred to me. “Can you make it, you know…big?”<br />
“Big?”<br />
“Yeah like big hair?”<br />
He pressed his lips together in thought, “hmmmm…Big hair huh?” He twirled a brush in his hands thoughtfully. “I’d hair to relax your hair…cut down the sides….get you some gel…” He smiled brightly. “But I know just the thing.”<br />
“I’m not going to look stupid am I?”<br />
“Oh honey, Gabriel won’t steer you wrong.”<br />
He did steer me though, for about three hours. First he put this smelly chemical in my hair that was supposed to take out the curl. Then he spent like a half hour shampooing me. I gotta admit it was kind of relaxing. Just floating their while he massaged my scalp. He cut my hair like a sculpture. I didn’t even notice how much time had passed before he had me sit up and pay attention to how he was gelling the long mass of my bangs into a high mound on my forehead. My dark black hair practically gleamed like plastic. <br />
“Now that is smooth.” Gabriel purred, admiring his work.<br />
I looked at the over stylized, gleaming black pompadour and instantly hated it. It wasn’t my style. It was too obvious. Made too much of a statement. And frankly made my already pretty face seem kinda…gay. But there was this irritating feeling that from now on I was going to wear it like this. Like it or not. And that I was going to be getting up early every morning to make sure it looked just right. “Shit dude I gotta go I’m going to be late to class.”<br />
“Alright sugar, but if you wanna come back sometime and let me take care of those eyebrows. Let me know.” <br />
Eyebrows? What was wrong with my eyebrows?<br />
I was scrambling for my keys in front of my car when I got my first good glimpse of my hair. A shiny pompadour with long black stylized sideburns. It was big. Big hair.<br />
I was hard the whole way back to campus.<br />
Once I got back to class it was like twenty times worse.<br />
I just couldn’t stop playing with my hair. There was so much of it and it was all piled so high on top of my head. The fringe hanging in my eyes was begging to be twirled. I paid no attention what so ever to the professor in my economics class. It was difficult to keep my hands dry, with all the grease holding the pomp in place.<br />
Plus everyone was staring at it. Their attention on it made me focus my attention on it. And then when I did mess with it, I felt this compulsion to pull out my little comb and fix anything I had done. <br />
“Nice hair cut.” Leo barked laughing.<br />
“Who are you supposed to be Elvis?” Rob asked from behind his laptop.<br />
“I’m trying something new.” Shut-up dickheads.<br />
“You look like Elvis.” Leo said.<br />
“Wow you really think so?” I asked, looking at my big hair again in the reflection of a nearby window.<br />
When I turned around they were both staring at me like I was crazy. “I…uh gotta go.” Man what’s they’re problem? Holt thought the pompadour looked good….<br />
Back at the house Holt and I were getting high, “you going out tonight?” HE asked me.<br />
I unconsciously averted my eyes when he handed me the bowl, something about looking him in the eye made me uncomfortable. “ahh… nah, Just gonna go to bed.”<br />
“Ha, tired of chasin the pussy wagon James Dean?”<br />
I got suddenly heated. “Why’s everybody gotta be raggin on my hair. You guys were the ones that said I should take better care of myself.”<br />
Holt put up his hands in apology, “Hey bro, I think that pomp’s bad ass. You know I dig the retro. IF I can ever get that 56’ Chevy outback running, I’d be toolin in that instead of my bike. 50’s hipster is real big right now.”<br />
Weird. Holt telling me he liked my hair…made me feel relieved… and my stomach was all uneasy…like before a final or a big match. “Thanks.”<br />
Holt smiled and he put his callused hand on my shoulder. …He put his hand on my shoulder…. It was heavy and large. I was leaning into the touch… savoring it. “I think you look good.” I got hard.<br />
I coughed and made a B line for my bedroom. What the fuck is wrong with me? Shit, I know I was taking a break from all these fucking sorostitutes outta boredom, but what the fuck is wrong with my dong. Getting a chub cause Holt was paying me some attention. Shit, must have been the weed.<br />
The pounding of Holt’s bed smacking against my wall woke me up in the middle of the night. <br />
Thwack<br />
Thwack<br />
Thwack<br />
Christ the guy was a fucking animal.<br />
Moaning and mews came from a high pitched voice. “Oh Holt. Oh Holt!”<br />
Without even realizing it I was stroking my dick and spitting on the palm of my hand for lube.<br />
“Oh Holt… Oh Holt!”<br />
“Shit baby you gotta hot body.”<br />
“Oh Holt…oh Holt.”<br />
“I love your tight body, baby.”<br />
“Fuck me holt. Fuck me.”<br />
I shuddered and came all over my sheets.<br />
<br />
<br />
The next day instead of blazing my bowl and eating three bowls of cereal, I woke up and went to workout. <br />
Like it was totally normal. Like it was my routine. Ya I went to the student gym when I was training for something or hanging out with my frat brothers but this morning I was possessed.<br />
I was throwing up weight that I would never have tried before. And I wasn’t tired. Maybe all the pot smoking does make you lazy? Muscles are funny things. All those years from training on the bars and the rings, came back to me in minutes. As I was looking at myself in the mirrors… which I seamed to do after every rep… I realized I even looked bigger, more pumped then usually.<br />
My Delt’s were cannonballs over a tiny torso that lead up to two cut and lean pecs. My chest angled out over the expanse of my flat stomach. Shit I did look bigger. <br />
I could see it in the mirror too, I was mesmerized by the way my triceps would spring and rebound like big thick snakes.<br />
I couldn’t help staring at my big calves.<br />
I was fascinated with my reflection. Why hadn’t I noticed this before?<br />
I was anxious to get off the weight floor though… I wanted to do my hair.<br />
I was styling and gelling my dark tresses into a high proud bread loaf that crested my forehead when Holt wandered by. He was going about his own workout. <br />
“Damn Ben,” He whistled, “You’re looking swoll’.”<br />
I instinctively pushed my chest out. “You know it bro.” I flexed a rock hard bicep at him.<br />
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’d actually look real good if it weren’t for all that fur.”<br />
And then he was gone. <br />
Fur?<br />
Shit.<br />
It wasn’t more then two hours later I was bagging another class and back at Gabriel’s Salon in the city. <br />
“You’re whole body?” The hairdresser asked stunned.<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
“Your whole body?”<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
Gabriel gave me a really weird look, “You haven’t pissed someone off recently? Have You?”<br />
“What?”<br />
Gabriel went about his salon, gathering wax from every hair dresser’s station. He kept looking back at me suspiciously, “You haven’t pissed off a skinny kid with long dark bangs and crystal blue eyes have you?”<br />
What a fucking weirdo. “No.”<br />
Gabriel shrugged, “just curious.” He handed me 2 purple pills.<br />
“What the fuck is this?”<br />
Gabriel smiled, “Vicaden.” <br />
“Look dude…”<br />
“Trust me. You’re going to need it.” He pulled a large swath of waxing tape to demonstrate his point, “Now, get comfortable. This is going to take awhile.”<br />
It was dark outside by the time I got back to Remington. I was sore. So fucking sore. My skin burned like fire. But I was smooth. I can’t remember why that was so important.<br />
I parked my car and got out. Holt was in the front yard working on his caddy. Sweat rolled off his bare torso and his blonde hair was matted to his head. Streaks of grease and grit decorated his tan skin.<br />
“You been gone awhile.” He grunted<br />
My whole body hurt. My stupid hair felt heavy. I had skipped two days of classes. I didn’t even know why. Couldn’t explain why. But I was still doing it. And I knew with a certain amount of dread that I was going to go inside grab my gym bag and head toward the gym.<br />
Even though I didn’t want to. I was going to do it anyway. I was so confused and exhausted I blurted out. “I went and got waxed.”<br />
“What?”<br />
He was interested. He put down the greasy auto part he was holding up and inspected me in the garage light. <br />
His interested thrilled me. It filled me up and gave me a weird exhilaration. I was so giddy I lifted the shirt to show him my red and tender, but completely hairless chest.<br />
“Wow.” Was all he said?<br />
I flushed with embarrassment. <br />
“You look really cut.” He said as I tried to escape past him towards the house.<br />
My fucking dick twitched.<br />
I continued on hurriedly but not before he said, “You should probably start wearing something other then baggy ass stained sweats.” He saw my horrified and confused expression, and shrugged. “Might as well get your money’s worth.” And went back to working on his truck.<br />
I instinctively reached into the back pocket of my jeans and felt the credit card. I knew with a sense of desolation that I was going to need it tomorrow.<br />
I dropped my bags and ran out the back door. I had already worked out today but I was eager to watch my swollen muscles bulge and flex, now that they were smooth.<br />
After I got back from what seemed like an eternity at the gym, Holt was on the phone loudly talking to some chick he used to fuck. Her name was daisy and she had moved to the city after graduation. I stepped past him sweat covered and tired. My body now glistened like polished wood. The absence of hair gave me this weird plastic look. When I was lifting I could see what a huge difference it made. Every taunt muscle and tended stood out with exertion. It was an amazing difference. I actually took some time in the locker room flexing and scanning the rippling muscle now fully exposed. I looked at the microwave clock. Shit 12:30? I had been posing in the locker room for myself for like two hours. My mind screamed in frustration what the fuck was wrong with me!<br />
I went to the fridge to grab a beer but instead grabbed a protein shake. As much as I wanted to booze I couldn’t bring my self to do it. I crumpled to the kitchen table in despair. <br />
Holt’s voice floated from the couch into the dark kitchen, gruff and hungry. “So Daisy baby whatcha wearin?” he was on his cell phone, lounging on the couch.<br />
“It’s not a stupid question.”<br />
“Cause I wanna know.”<br />
He laughed a hard rough chuckle, “What if I am, would you mind?”<br />
He was masturbating while she talked to him.<br />
“Really? You know.... we used to call you daisy duke because of that. Cause you were always showin off them legs in cutoffs. You still wearing thongs baby?” He purred. “Ya I remember all those tight little g-strings you used to sport keeping your jeans low enough so we could see the waist band… and I swear you didn’t have a top the didn’t show at least half your tits… Ya baby…. Fuck ya baby…”<br />
I ran to my room trying to escape the sound of Holt’s sexual release. I could tell by the time I had shut my door, when I hear a low deep and animal growl that he had cum. I looked down at my wet sweatpants and realized I had too.<br />
<br />
<br />
***********************************<br />
There’s something really wrong with my roommate.<br />
Now Ben’s always been kinda odd. He’s a bit of a pot smoking loner, and he has a temper like you wouldn’t fucking believe but lately… He’s been like a different person. He was about as concerned with class as I am. Living with me, isn’t I guess the best influence but he skipped a whole week altogether. Instead of going to class he’s been living at the gym and doesn’t come out of his room. When he does come out he just runs to his car and goes on these long trips to the city. HE seems to be spending daddy’s money like water. He comes home with all these shopping bags from places like “diesel” or “A&F”. This is a kid who went a solid week in a pair of jogging shirts and an old jersey. <br />
And I swear he’s Ben going back to that hairdresser’s. His skin’s all smooth and if I didn’t know better I’d swear he was using make-up. His fucking face is so perfectly bronzed and his lashes are so dark and long… Fucking weird.<br />
Weirdest of all I was sitting in my Economics class when he came in to day and you could have fucking knocked me over with a fart. I’m just sitting there reading an issue of maxim inside my econ notebook when in struts Ben. <br />
And he did strut.<br />
That new cut of his was huge and glistening black over his immaculately kept face. His dark sideburns were meticulously shaped into jagged curves that looked like to thick black lightening bolts against his jaw. <br />
Worst of all he was in some weird…. Fucking… I don’t know costume? I told him when he got that greaser cut I thought it was retro and cool. I didn’t know he was GOING TO TAKE IT SO FAR…<br />
Ben’s muscled and shaved body was squeezed into a wife beater that looked like it would be baggy on a ten year old. His jeans were so tight I could see the crease of his cock on his pant leg. They were stone washed and frayed. They were rolled up into tight cuffs that exposed his ankles and the red banded tube socks that were sticking out of his… penny loafers?<br />
The white fabric of the beater was stretched thin over his round pecs and there was a skull and crossbones necklace dangling right in the crevice of his big chest. Thick punk wrist bands hugged his forearms making the veins in his arms bulge and striate. <br />
He had a pen behind his ear and nothing else, resembling class work. <br />
He didn’t make any eye contact with anyone, just looked straight ahead and sat down in front of me. I was so fucking floored I didn’t even say hi. I stared at the muscular ridges and lumps of his exposed and overly tan back all through class stupefied… I mean what the fuck?<br />
Ben most have felt my eyes on him because he shifted his weight forward and the beater rode high up his torso exposing the smooth unblemished muscle of his lower back. My eye got huge when I notice the thin red strings peaking out of his jeans, and the undeniable deep cleft they were indenting.<br />
Dude was wearing a thong. No seriously dude was wearing a thong.<br />
And he knew he was exposing it to me.<br />
Man whatever you gotta do to get action is up to you, but what the fuck?<br />
The whole thing worked I guess because after class half the chicks were hanging around talking to him about his new look. Which was awesome for me because it let me get away without having to grab him by the shoulders and yell “What the fuck?”<br />
I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to say to him when he got home. Hopefully he’d be in bed but no. He came bounding in sweaty and pumped from another long session down at the gym. His glossy hair was held back with a folded bandana making the big hair seem even taller on his head, and he was wearing some thrift store second hand gym uniform. It was like the old school high school gym uniforms you’d see in the 70’s. The shirt was too small, it left his belly button exposed and his swollen biceps stuck out cartoonishly from the sleeves of the yellow faded material. <br />
He skulked past me and I noticed that the little short shorts were so tiny that the split seems on the side didn’t even reach the top of his thigh. His now unnaturally tan legs erupted in pulsing muscle all the way down to the white yellow banded tube socks that were pulled up all the way accentuating the swell of his curved calves.<br />
Fuck that. <br />
He wants to leave the house looking like some kinda hipster, that’s his business… but this fucking outfit? How fucking stupid must he have looked in the gym like that?<br />
I was trying to be supportive of the little brute since he was finally startin’ to give a shit about how he looked but this was fucking nuts.<br />
He’s just fucking begging for attention.<br />
He walked past me, ignoring the bong and gulping a protein shake.<br />
“Nice outfit.” I smirked.<br />
He whirled around quickly a look of total excitement on his face. “You like it?”<br />
I laughed at him, “Ya all you need is a tattoo and you’ll be a regular Danny zucko.”<br />
<br />
<br />
****************************************<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“You sure this is safe?” I asked Gabriel.<br />
My little Spanish friend nodded fervently, “If you’re going to get ink done… you want David to do it.” He said the name David strangely. Like Dah-vide. Or something. The hulking form of the big swarthy Puerto-Rican tattoo artist loomed over me. The needle in his big hand purred loudly. <br />
It was strange to think of Gabriel as my friend. But he was… I guess. HE was really trying to help me now. He gave me tips on keeping my skin, even and glowing. How to use a subtle line of eyeliner here or lip gloss there. He didn’t give me any weird looks like my frat buddies were giving me. He was actually really nice, for a total fairy.<br />
When I asked him about a tattoo artist, while he was giving me a manicure, he said he new just the guy. His boyfriend David.<br />
“Don’t worry man,” his caramel skin broke out into a pristine white grin. “I’ll be gentle.”<br />
He patted my knee reassuringly. I could feel my cock twitch in its silky thong confines. The feel of my denuded skin against the soft tight fabric of my delicate underwear made me strike a bone at the oddest times. I was still questioning constantly what was wrong with me. Why was I doing this? What the fuck is happening… but I was so caught up in the whirl wind of praise and looks and stares… <br />
The needle penetrated my bicep and cut into the skin but David had a deft touch. I spent half the time of the tattooing admiring my reflection in the shop mirror and discretely watching David’s sensual Latin muscles ripple and wave as he repositioned himself around me. Gabriel smiled and went back to the front of the shop. <br />
“Tell me something benji..”<br />
“My name’s Ben.” I corrected angrily.<br />
“Uh-huh, Do you know anyone named Vaughn?”<br />
I was busy trying to fix the fringe of my bangs one handed, and stopped to consider. “Well… ya.”<br />
David gave me a sympathetic look, “did you piss him off?”<br />
“Him?” I shook my head. Damn! That errant bang was still out of place. “No I know a girl named Vaughn. Alyssa Vaughn.”<br />
“Oh,… never mind then.” He was still bent over his work. His big lush lips pursed in thought. He smiled to himself and readjusted his angle. Now his big leather covered thigh was positioned right between my own tightly encased denim jeans. I could feel the heat from the heavy quad that was bouncing back and forth between my inner thighs. His knee was brushing tentatively against my junk. Behind the denim I could feel my cock squirm against the white thong I was sporting today. I lost myself in the sensation. Until all at once the noise of the tattoo gun stopped. David leaned in close his heavy shoulders shadowed me. I thought he was going to kiss me. My heart was racing my gut was turning. But all he did was whisper in my ear. “All done baby.”<br />
I turned to the shop mirror and saw that large, pop art, cartoon Cherries were red and angry on my swollen bicep. <br />
I swiveled the chair back to thank him and shrank back because I was face to face with his leather clad crotch.<br />
“Sorry… man.” He apologized standing back. <br />
“You’re hard as a fucking rock.” I blurted out.<br />
A ravishing blush crept across the handsome thug’s face. “Ya well I bet there ain’t no man alive would be able to stay soft in a room with you.”<br />
“Huh?”<br />
“Christ Benji, you’re like something out of a Tom of Finland calendar.” <br />
“Ben..” I corrected still staring fascinated at the huge erection I had caused. I’d gotten hard before but I had never gotten someone hard. It was crazy here was this huge hot guy and he was getting a stiffy just being near me. This must be the power chicks feel. The idea that you can turn a man on. It’s not like turning on a woman where there’s nothing but acknowledgment. Here was concrete fucking proof that you were hot. That someone wanted you…your body. A big thick shaft of engorged flesh that protruded out like a flag saying, “you’re so fucking hot.”<br />
I was thrilled with sexual prowess. This dude could have any woman he wanted, but here he was stiff as a teenager from just touching me. His big thick Latin cock wanted me. And from the way his pants were straining he wanted me bad. <br />
“How much do I owe?” I almost squeaked tearing my eyes away from his bulge.<br />
“On the house.” I could hear the lust drip off every word. I felt bold and euphoric at the realization that he wanted me so bad he wanted to give me shit. That’s how bad he wanted me. <br />
His dick was still hard.<br />
If I could just see it.<br />
I just wanted to see how hard I made him. <br />
My own ram rod hard cock had jutted past its silken hammock and was scrapping angrily at my jeans. <br />
I was breathing heavy.<br />
So was he. <br />
He moved to step away. My curiosity was to powerful. My hunger was to powerful. I grabbed his belt. “Let me pay you back.”<br />
“You don’t have to mate.”<br />
It sounded like a stranger’s voice that demanded, “I want to.”<br />
That’s all the encouragement he needed. He unzipped the leather pants and a huge bar of solid honey colored cock bobbed up and down in front of me. IT was huge and engorged. All because of me. I’d have had girls go down on me when it was there first time. They’re delicate and tentative. They’re scared of the rod about to fuck their mouth. <br />
I wasn’t. <br />
I was eager to feel the weight of another mans desire closing up my throat. I attacked the big dick like a ravenous slut. I could feel the heat of his need burning across my tongue. I could feel the twitch of his pulsing need across my lips. He bucked and moaned but I was so enthralled with the power of his cock in my mouth, the control of his pleasure. I teased, sucked and let him fuck my face.<br />
I could smell the confined sweat of his groin, the musky hot reek of a man against my nose. He tasted like sweat and soap. <br />
My own dick slapped wildly against the silky thong. It turned me on even more. The idea of me on my knees in front of this big macho Latin tattoo artist with my hairless cock raging hard in a pair of silly pink thong panties. I juiced all over them without touching my cock once.<br />
Afterwards, I thought I’d feel ashamed. Embarrassed. I didn’t. I felt awesome, like I had just learned some big secret. I could make a man hard. I could make a dude buck and yell and beg. <br />
David was buckling his jeans and smiling at me. “Shit pal, you know how to pay a man back.”<br />
“Thanks.” In the mirror as I was fixing my hair I could see the satisfied grin on my face.<br />
David’s big handsome face smiled at him. “Just let me know when you want more ink, I think you’d look real hot with some more tats.”<br />
“Thanx.”<br />
The walk home was like a new day on a strange planet. For the first time in my life I noticed people looking at me. Not just looking. Staring. Leering. My tight hi huggers silhouetted my movements like snake skin, and the nylon pattern t shirt gave everyone an eyeful of my tapered waste and plump pecs. I could see myself in their gaze. <br />
I collected every hungry look like a prize. Even the looks I got from men. Guys would turn their heads in lust. My over made-up appearance making their mouths dry and their palms sweat. Or they would give me dark angry looks, jealous of my hotness and arrogance. I flicked the fringe of my Pompadour like a lion swishing his mane.<br />
I felt like a different person. One guy with his gym bag on his shoulder and a fresh burst of work out sweat on his glowing young skin seemed to linger behind me for blocks. When I got to my car I dropped my keys, so that I could bend over and give him a good look at the pink-triangular-back of my trashy thong.<br />
<br />
<br />
I was out drinking… late. I was putting back a few watching the UFC championships down at the bar. It’s not like I could watch it at home. It used to be that I and Ben would watch ‘em together…. But that wasn’t going to be happening anymore. <br />
Ben always said he wanted to take a couple mixed martial Arts classes and maybe try to join an amateur fighting club. Now he seemed too worried about getting his pretty face messed up. <br />
It sucks when you don’t want to go back to your own apartment because your buddy’s gotten all weird. Ben and I used to spend all our time together, blazing, drinking, fighting and hanging out. Now I can’t find anything to say to him and he always seems to run to his room as soon as he gets home. <br />
It just blows.<br />
When I got home, I was feeling buzzed and sorry for myself. This shit always happens. Other roommates had done the same thing to me. Their senior year starts looming ahead and suddenly they decide to grow up or change. Leaving me still here, in Remington.<br />
Oh well. Fuck.<br />
I walked through the door and there was Ben sitting on the couch. He was polishing a pair of very shiny vintage motorcycle boots. He was actually trying to see his reflection in them. <br />
“Shit dude,” I gasped. <br />
“What?” he asked? His big brown eyes demurred like a flirty girl behind long mascara exaggerated lashes.<br />
“Where’d all those fucking tattoo’s come from?”<br />
I was looking at the sleeves on both his arms. From wrist to elbow on both arms were solid sleeves of pop Art color. Playing cards, skulls, dice and flames decorated his roommates’ forearms. <br />
“What’d ya mean?” Ben asked, His eyes getting bigger giving me the impression of Betty boop and Elvis.<br />
“You’ve got about 3 days worth of ink on your arms.”<br />
He smiled a bright flash of white on his unnaturally tan face, “I’ve always had these Holt. Are you high?”<br />
I sputtered. Confused.<br />
“I did just get this one today though,” he beamed. Ben displayed one round cut deltoid and bulging tricep toward me. Two big cartoon cherries stood out against Ben’s tanorexic skin.<br />
First I told him he needed a haircut and then suddenly he’s the Fonz.<br />
I told him to workout and he’s living at the Gym.<br />
I jokingly told him to get a tat and now he’s got solid sleeves…<br />
It’s like every time I make a suggestion about the way he looks…<br />
A really nasty idea began to form in my drunken mind. The more I turned it over the funnier it seemed. Maybe it was the booze or how ridiculous Ben looked their all done up and totally different… but the idea was making me hard.<br />
“Yo Ben,” I said plopping down next to him, reaching my arm behind him to rest on the back of the couch. His whole body language changed. He had been relaxing, now he was tense and I could see his breath coming in jagged anxious knots.<br />
I’d seen this kind of behavior before, when I was putting the moves on some silly freshmen girl. Ben was getting a faggy attitude to go with his faggy appearance?<br />
My tough as nails, athletic, rough and tumble UFC, pot smoking, drinking buddy was acting like a love sick chick. The dude who I used to go toe to toe with was blushing and smelling my sweaty body like it was perfume. Ben had a bad attitude and the balls to back up his back talk, but now he seemed ready to bend over and let me rape his cocky ass. <br />
My idea was making me harder.<br />
“Have fun tonight.” He practically stammered.<br />
Time to test my theory. “Ya I met this chick down at the pub.” Jesus Christ he looked so dejected and disappointed, well it’s now or never “Ya man you should have seen her, she had the hottest ass.” Ben didn’t even seem to be paying attention. “She had this hot butt… big and round, total bubble butt; made for taking it doggy style … ya know what I mean? I might have thought it was way too big at first but it was firm as hell.”<br />
Ben couldn’t contain his irritation any longer. Me talking about some other chick was making him jealous. My buddy was jumping out of the closet and he wanted to land right in my lap. I wouldn’t mind listening to the self-important little prick scream on my baby maker, just to teach him a lesson.<br />
Ben got up to leave, “See ya in the morning.”<br />
I decided just to pass out on the couch. I wandered if my drunken theory would work? I was so smashed I’d probably forget by the time I woke up.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was the first thing I noticed. I got outta bed, my shiny silver thong glistened with a nights worth of wet dream. I padded to the bathroom to start my morning ritual. I felt kind of off balance. My muscular stride seemed to sway from side to side like I was seasick. <br />
Exfoliate; shower, moisturizer, base, bronzer, gel, pomade…. HOLY FUCK!!!<br />
In the bathroom mirror I saw the reason for my fucked up balance. MY ass was huge! The tanned cut muscles of my hamstrings reached up to grasp two butt cheeks the size of watermelons. The muscles of my glutes stuck straight out from the small of my back and formed two huge globes of solid ass meat. <br />
WHAT THE FUCK? <br />
I kept turning back and forth to make sure what I was seeing was real. I turned too quick and one side of my thick ass smacked a shelf knocking down all my shaving supplies. It was so big it was just two centimeters from being comical… <br />
With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I reached behind myself and put a shaking hand on the expanse of my swollen rear end. It wasn‘t soft or flabby, thank fucking god. It was hard and supple. A perfectly oversized man butt. The skin was supple and lush but it was as solid as my bicep underneath. It was just …huge. The back of my thong was lost in the massive cleavage created in the crack of my now inflated ass cheeks. Just the merest hint of the silver showed over the high mounds.<br />
I slumped down on top of the toilet with my head in my hands. I was giving head in tattoo parlors… getting lots of tattoo’s…dressing like a gay boy fashion plate… wearing man make-up… now my ass …. God I readjusted my seat and actually felt the difference. MY posture made the curve of my back rounder as I tried to compensate for the big pillows that were now underneath me. <br />
What was happening? My head was swimming. I wanted to throw up…or cry or…laugh?<br />
Looking at my ass in the mirror, I calmed down. It wasn’t bad, exactly. I had a butt you could eat breakfast off of. The kind of big bubble butt that only came through good genetics or a life time climbing stairs. It gave my body an erotic muscular hour glass figure. When I moved, it twitched from side to side making my walk sensual and inviting. My thoughts cooled and I accepted my big ass as normal barely noticing it as I applied bronzer to the bridge of my nose. My only fear was trying to fit into my tiny 30in waist jeans. <br />
The tight fit of my jeans against the expanse of my ass was causing a huge stir as I sauntered across the Remington Quad. I was wearing tight spaghetti strapped 2-exist tank top that snaked up my torso when I moved. I really had no intention of going to class; I just wanted to give everyone a good look at me. <br />
I was doing my second lap, eating up the jealous looks from the dudes and the eager smiles of the girls when I ran right into Rob and Leo.<br />
Rob was in the middle of an animated discussion with a young hippy girl. His tightly cropped red blonde hair gleamed in the sun. His tall lean 6’4 frame with its broad shoulder’s made me envy him for a minute. But I realized no matter what physical attributes he possessed he’d never be able to work them as well as I worked mine. The girl seemed to be getting very angry and eventually through a pamphlet at his face and stalked off muttering to herself about egotistical republicans.<br />
Leo turned to watch her go. His imposing musculature undulated underneath the football jersey he was wearing. <br />
They both caught sight of me and their mouths both dropped open in suitably satisfying shock.<br />
“Yo guys.” I raised my hand to give them a high five. Neither of them reciprocated. “Sorry I haven’t been spending a lot of time at the Frat house lately I’ve been kinda busy.”<br />
Leo stood up and gave me a steady unfriendly look, “Just what the fuck have you been doing. You look like a fag.”<br />
Rob was giving me the same look of disgust. “Yo queer bait my face is up here stop staring at my fucking crouch.”<br />
I felt my whole face flush a deep red. I had felt so proud of the stares I was getting and here Leo was calling me a fag. “You guys were the ones who said I needed to take a little more pride in how I looked.” I spat.<br />
“Yeah we didn’t say “yo dude how bout you totally fag out”.”<br />
That was it. <br />
Something inside me roared up, unused and forgotten the past couple of weeks my anger bubbled over. A reached back and swung on Rob. He was a lot taller but I managed to clip him right beneath the jaw. He tumbled back, shocked and out of breath. Leo immediately decided to bum rush me, which I expected. I sidestepped him and kicked him in the ass with my shiny polished motorcycle boot. <br />
Leo went down.<br />
But Rob had recovered. He had thrown down his pamphlets in a shower of paper and was angrily racing toward me, massaging his jaw and clenching his fists.<br />
Rob towered over me but I feinted back and took his feet out from under him with a low roundhouse. He crumpled backward.<br />
Leo was right behind me using his huge arms like a vice. It was a tight hold but I slipped out of it and flipped him with his own momentum. Now I was behind him and had the upper hand, I head locked him and squeezed for all I was fucking worth. My long hours at the gym had made me a lot more dangerous. “Keep squirming dipshit.” I whispered between clenched teeth, “I‘ll break your fucking neck. You know I know how to do it.”<br />
Then suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. “Ben… let him go man.” <br />
Holt stood behind me with a look of awe on his face.<br />
I let go of Leo and back off panting. One of the straps of my tank had ripped in the scuffle and my hair was a mess. “Fuck these dickweeds.” I spat and stumped off. I reflexively pulled a small back comb out of my pocket and began to rearrange my pomp.<br />
It was dark by the time I got back to the house. The lights were off. Thank god. AT least I wouldn’t have to talk to Holt about the fight.<br />
I shut the front door behind me and was about to pull off my big boots when I heard the familiar noise of a bubbling bong, “Hey tough guy.” Holt rumbled from somewhere in the dark living room.<br />
I flicked on the light, “Hey.” I mumbled.<br />
He was sitting shirtless on the couch. “Been waiting for you to come home.”<br />
I suppressed the small flutter of excitement I felt at his attention, “Ya you wanna take a few potshots at me too, call me a fag.”<br />
“For a fag you’re still one hell of a fighter.”<br />
“Whatever.”<br />
“You really had Leo on the ropes this afternoon,” he chuckled. “I was kinda worried that…”<br />
“That what? I fagged out too much to know how to fight?” I spat.<br />
Holt grabbed my wrist, his calloused weather warn hands covering up a pair of flaming dice tattoos. <br />
“That’s not what I meant.”<br />
“Look I know what you meant,” I tried to shake his grip but he wouldn’t let go, “I just want…”<br />
He growled, “I know what you want.” HE spun me around and pinned me against the couch. “I wanna look at you. Strip.”<br />
I was nervous but beyond thought. I did what he told me. Watching myself in the mirror across the room. Obeying him with a terrible sense of anticipation. My heart was throbbing in my ears. I slid off my tank top and pried the extreme fit jeans down to my ankles. I was grabbing for the elastic strings of my thong, when he grabbed my hand again, “no leave it.”<br />
He spun me around and inspected me. I inspected him back. For the first time I marveled at the beauty of a man’s body. The strength, the sheer enormity of the span of his back the stretch of his legs. His wide hands on the small of my back. Holt was physically larger then I was but I had him undone by muscle mass. I could feel the width of his shoulders as he moved behind me. The long streaks of sweat running down his forearms as he encircled my waste. <br />
Fuck I was ramrod hard.<br />
I couldn’t help but feel like a total sissy against his rugged musky skin. Here I was, manicured and primped within an inch of my life, hair done, muscles pumped and rock hard in a silly little thong.<br />
He was just grit and sweat and masculinity. I remembered vaguely that that was how I used to be but as his dirty callused hands explored the ridges of my lower abdomen those thoughts vanished. I wanted his big fingers to pull on the tiny straps of my thong. I wanted him to tweak the erect nipples on my pecs. I wanted him to take me. To use me. To thoroughly make me the bitch I looked like. <br />
This must be what women felt like. Holt’s breath was ragged and frightened on the back of my tan neck. My big ass instinctively sought the bulging erection in his jeans. The power of the tease thrilled me. The euphoric control in it made me nuts. My big bubble butt and his hard crotch, scraping against one another. He wanted me. It disgusted him but I was so fucking hot he couldn’t help it. I wanted him too. BAD. I felt more like a slutty chick then some cock crazy fag. I wanted raped bad. I wanted to feel him hard and hungry on top of me. I wanted to feel the rigid hard shaft of his lust pound and own me. <br />
“You want my cock in that big gay butt don’t you…pretty boy.” Pretty boy. Something inside me clicked and I thrust my ass back at him and steadied myself on the back of the couch. <br />
“Stop talking about it pussy,” I almost yelled, “And fucking do it.” I wanted him to fuck me and call me pretty boy. I wanted it bad. So fucking badly.<br />
His lips were rough on the back of my neck. His mouth was hungry and angry tasting the sweat of my upper back. His hips thrust me forcefully into the back of couch, crushing me against it with the weight of his lust. <br />
His hands slid down my tattooed forearms and held my wrists tightly in place. His bigger body engulfed mine and he began to tear at my ear with his teeth. His groin rocked back and forth, pummeling my big ass with gentle vibrations. I could smell the stink of his day washing off of him as he tasted the curve of my jaw. He smelled like wee and beer and sweat. It made me ooze precum.<br />
“You did all this to get my attention, didn’t you?” His breath was hot on my neck; his big hands rubbed my forearms.<br />
I was beyond lying. “Yes.” I practically barked.<br />
His hand moved from my arms and slid up my torso until he was cupping my pumped up pecs, the way he would have held some chick’s tits. My mind was on fire. “The hair…the working out… the tat’s… You really want my cock that bad?”<br />
I did.<br />
His course thick fingers circled my erect and aching nipples, “Ya know I’ve jerked off with guys before.” He said casually, “I even let this one kid blow me at Camp once.” The hands moved again tracing the line of my oblique until resting in a triangle that held the shiny flimsy cloth of my thong. “But I never thought about fucking a guy until now.”<br />
My heart leapt in my throat, and I moaned in anticipation. <br />
“Not until I saw you this afternoon. Here you were this tough shit talking rough neck, all done up like some model and I knew that if I told you to, you’d stop beating on those guys and bend over like a good boy and cram my dick up that ass of yours.” His voice was deep and excited.<br />
MY whole body twitched and I could feel sweat drip down my naked smooth thighs. “You want to be my good boy don’t ya?” He grabbed my throbbing dick, pulling the silky material of my trashy panties aside. He stroked me. “Little bully wants to be my pretty boy and clean my cock.”<br />
“Yes.”<br />
“Good.”<br />
I stayed pinned against the couch, but I could feel him undressing behind me. In moments he was naked. It was a shock to feel the intrusion of his sweaty dick against the cleft of my ass cheeks. He rubbed against me and I could feel the course wiry touch of his pubic hair. HE spat on his hand and rubbed it into his dick. Then there was the barest moment of hesitation and he dropped to his knees. I had only a moments warning before his big hands grasped my big butt and spread the two huge muscular globes. His face attacked me hairless hole with a crazy intensity. I could feel the stubble on his chin against me as his tongue flicked in and out of my ass. He was spitting on my whole and I was hunching up and down on his face like a bitch getting her pussy eaten. I was in ecstasy it seemed like he was down there for hours massaging my big glutes and eating my ass like a lunatic. As he slurped and drooled on the tan flesh, I writhed and moaned uncontrollably. I arched up on my heels and felt my toes curl in hysterical desire.<br />
I was begging him to stop. I was begging for him to not stop.<br />
Finally he gave my hole one last long tongue bath and stood up. He had lubed me up good.<br />
“Tell me if I hurt you.” He warned.<br />
Fuck that I wanted him to hurt me. His hands pressed against my shoulders forcing me down toward the couch. The hard cock that had begun to rule my life and dictate my decisions was inches away from finally claiming me. Holt put me in position, spreading my thick thighs with his wiry and hairy legs, and then he grabbed hold of my pecs pinching the nipples with his fingers. I was totally possessed by his flesh. <br />
He leaned into me, muttering something I didn’t understand. I felt a slight pressure and then I was screaming in pain. <br />
His thick hard cock split me in two. It was rigid with lust and it pulsed inside my untrained cavity like a live angry wire. He leaned in closer holding me tight and telling me to relax. He began to pick out a steady rhythm of pounding, letting his groin smack against the broad expanse of my big butt with a sexy repetitive “thwack.”<br />
After I got used to the violation, it was hot as fuck. I felt a man's Cock inside me and it made me spasm with pleasure.<br />
I bent over further, giving him more purchase on wich to fuck my ass silly. I found myself pushing back, fucking back on his big cock. Using my butt like a pillow to push at his crotch. He was sweating I was sweating. Holt slowed for a minute and I wandered if he was close to nutting, but he pulled me tight against his chest, so we were standing. My ass still crammed with his cock and his mouth on my ear, “I think it’s fucking hot Bengi.”<br />
“My ass?” I rasped with a dry throat.<br />
“Ya and your ripped body.”<br />
I wiggled promiscuously on the hard pole abusing me. I could see myself in the mirror across the room.<br />
“Keep your eyes over there,” Holt encouraged. “I want you to know how you look with my fucking cock up your slutty butt.”<br />
My body was tense and sweaty. My mouth hanging was slack. MY pretty face contorted in pain and pleasure. My muscles jumped from strain.<br />
I WAS BEAUTIFUL.<br />
“OH…Shit Fuck ME.” I screamed wildly. I felt his jack hammering hit somewhere inside me. The thick bulb of his rod crushed against my prostate and my dick leaped and began leaking cum and pulsing… without me even touching it.<br />
Holt was quick though. He reached around and began to milk my spasming dick with a meaty fist. <br />
“I think it’s hot that a bad ass like you wants to be my little pretty boy …Bengi.” His strokes inside me were coming long and gentle now.” I think it’s hot that you’re this tough guy but here with me you’re just a sissy ready to please me. A bitch for my boner… a lisping faggot pretty boy for. My…fuck…oh…shit….for my….” He pulsed and throbbed inside of me. I instinctively clamped my ass muscles and held on to the root of his baby maker. It twitched inside of me like an unrestrained fire hose, spraying my guts with his seed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Peter was again found himself standing outside Holt and Ben’s house. HE once again found himself following the brisk foot steps of Damien Vaughn. The yard seemed cleaner. No trash anywhere.<br />
“Do you need more pot?” Peter snapped.<br />
“No. Just making a house call.” He cracked his big knuckles, “I want to see how the patient is responding.”<br />
Damien knocked on the door.<br />
They waited.<br />
“Come in.” Holt’s voiced yelled from somewhere inside. <br />
They walked inside together and were floored by the sight of the floor. It was clean. The whole house was Clean. It looked completely different, from the trash heap that had greeted them last time. Holt was spread idly over the couch, watching TV with his bong in his hand. He was shitless and wearing only a pair of grey sweats.<br />
“What’s up guys?” <br />
Damien was craning his neck around the house looking for something, “hey man…”<br />
“If you’re here to grab some weed for Ally, Don’t bother. She was here earlier got it herself.”<br />
“OH…” Damien murmured, “I just stopped by to…”<br />
“Holt do you know where the Fabric Thoftner ith?” Ben came down the stairs with a pile of laundry. He set it down and Peter actually yelped in surprise.<br />
Ben’s huge tanned muscles glistened with a thin flattering sheen of sweat. His hair was in an immaculately styled pompadour and his side burns accentuated his femininely high cheekbones. What made Peter yelp and his cock respond however, was what he was wearing. For a guy who had nearly killed him for being a Fag. Ben sure had changed his tune. He was topless leaving his big smooth chest to heave and bounce for them to goggle. His big thick legs however were encased in a pair of ripped fishnet stockings that reached out of his big clunky motorcycle boots to the middle of his chunky quads. His Huge ass peeked out from underneath a pair of cut off shorts that were so inconceivably tiny that the huge rotund cheeks of his hard ass hung out. The glittery mesh of a gold thong peeked up over the fly of the cutoffs that were too small for him to even zipper. <br />
Ben’s arms were a mosaic of colorful tattoos from elbow to wrist. <br />
He looked exactly like a Tom of inland Model. Like some hyper sexualized and ultra manicured 1950’s gay pin-up.<br />
A huge blush crept up his bare neck. His face didn’t get very red though, because the layer of cover up was too thick. Ben’s face firmed into a sensual pout but his gruff bass voice said, “Thit holt! You thould have told me that there was people in the houthe.” He planted both of his fists on his exposed and exaggerated hips in a fighting stance. <br />
“Oh don’t worry,” Holt slurred, “They don’t mind do you.” He gave Damien a knowing grin. <br />
Damien arched an eyebrow, “Not at all.”<br />
Ben relaxed his big round shoulders, “Oh cool, Thome people wouldn’t underthtand.” His deep masculine voice lisped defensively.<br />
“You’d be surprised at what I understand.” Damien answered.<br />
Craig sat up and gave Ben a strange look, “How many times do I have to tell ya Bengi? Nobody’s gonna say shit to you about anything.” His eyes actually seemed to get softer, “I’m going to take care of you. The way you take care of me.”<br />
Ben’s pretty face became a scowl, “If anybody Thayth shit to me, I’ll fucking Thmath their Fathe in. What are you guyth doing here anyway?”<br />
“You haven’t been to class in awhile,” Peter practically gurgled. <br />
“Oh that.”<br />
“Come here Bengi…” Holt cooed. <br />
Ben lumbered over to him in his clunky boots, his heavy thighs and huge ass pumping awkwardly. With a lisp like that, and an outfit like that, you expected him to mince or prance but instead he trudged with the same masculine trot he always had. <br />
He sat down on Holt’s knee and Holt gave them a look like he was showing them his favorite trophy. <br />
“I dropped out.” Bengi explained.<br />
Peter’s eyes bulged. “You what?”<br />
“I dethided I wanted to take thome time off.” He shrugged. His deep masculine voice was at sierious odds with his emasculating speech impediment,“I got thith friend in the thity, he’th helping me get an agent tho I can thtart modeling. Until that taketh off I’m working in hith thalon.”<br />
“You’re going to work at a…salon?”<br />
“Well I have to. My dad cut off my credit cardth.”<br />
“oh.” Peter was watching in fascination as Holt traced his hands over the line of Bengi’s tattooed forearms.<br />
He was really turned on.<br />
Everyone in the room was really turned on.<br />
Damien cleared his throat, “I think we better get going,” They made their way quickly to the door.<br />
“Hey Damien. If you see Ally, tell her…” Damien turned to see that Bengi had turned to straddle Holt on the couch; on the small of his back was another tattoo. It was right in the spot that callous frat boys affectionately called a “Tramp stamp.” On Benji’s taunt lower back the words “pretty Boy” were written in feminine cursive writing. “Tell her she doesn’t have to bother calling.”<br />
The door shut behind them with an expressive thud. <br />
“Wow.” Peter said<br />
“Wow.” Damien replied.<br />
“Wow.”<br />
“Wow.”<br />
“Well,” Damien breathed loudly, “It always amazes me.”<br />
Peter adjusted his uncomfortably rigid dick, as they walked out of Holt and Bengi’s house. “I’m pretty damn amazed myself.” He muttered.<br />
“Well yes that…” Damien agreed with a lust filled glance over his shoulder, “Was pretty spectacular. What I meant though, is that it amazes me how Spells evolve.”<br />
“Evolve?”<br />
Damien slipped on his sunglasses with a quizzical nod, “Yes evolve. When you cast a spell, you have some idea of your own intentions…” He made a hand wave of dismissal. “But that’s completely futile when you get down to it. The spell grows on its own, changes… grows momentum…” Damien gave him a very direct look, emphasizing the importance of his statement, “You have to be careful the spells you cast. You really don’t have any control over them. Magic’s a living thing with a mind of its own.”<br />
Peter gave a short barking laugh, “I know what this spell has on its mind.” He couldn’t help but think of the tan expanse of Bengi’s big ass curving out from the tops of the fishnets…<br />
Damien considered. “That’s very true… and if it’s this powerful on its first victim I have no idea what it’s going to do to Rob or Leo…” There was a moment when he looked almost concerned. But he shook it off with a Cheshire grin. “Should be quite dramatic… and relatively immediate. Now that it’s got real potency.”<br />
“The spell’s getting stronger?”<br />
“Of course it is… We just fed it Ben. It’ll be hungry again soon.” He talked about the magic like it was some ravenous jungle beast that he had loosed on Remington campus. His tone was a mix of self satisfaction and reluctance. <br />
Damien licked his forefinger and then put it into the air, as if he was testing the wind. “Tomorrow… At the Steel mill Gym… Ten o’clock.” He foretold. <br />
“What?”<br />
“That’s when it’s going to strike next.” He slapped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly, “Oh this one’s a wild bugger… That’s what you get with wishes… Powerful magic… wishing...” He fixed Peter with an implacable stare that broached no excuses. “Meet me there tomorrow.” <br />
Peter shook his head violently in agreement.<br />
“Presently, I need to go home and … masturbate.” <br />
“Do not move Damien Vaughn.” The command ringed like crystal bells. Alyssa Vaughn stepped quietly into view. She had been waiting patiently behind a nearby parked car.<br />
Damien gave Peter a rueful smile and turned around, “Fancy meeting you here, Alyssa.” <br />
“Not quite as fancy as the boy I saw inside.” Peter had never seen Alyssa angry. It made her seem even prettier. She looked like an insulted Goddess or an avenging angel. She was dressed in a simple white baby doll dress and her long golden curls rippled over one exposed shoulder.<br />
“I stopped by this afternoon to pick up an 8th and … Ben kept me busy for two hours asking me questions about shopping and hair dye… all the while staring into a mirror.”<br />
Damien betrayed no emotion but crooked an eyebrow, and said “Admiring my work?”<br />
“Assessing the destruction.” Alyssa spat. She pulled herself together and then in a voice like a judge’s gavel cracking down on bone, she hissed, “What have you done?”<br />
“I granted his wishes.”<br />
Ally smiled, it didn’t touch her eyes “And what a beneficent Djinn you must have been.”<br />
Damien sighed heavily feeling the weight of an argument that the two had contended over years.<br />
Peter couldn’t help feeling like an intruder on a private scene. The two of them stood like contending monarchs. Regal and cool, one aristocratic Vaughn faced the other, without any sign of emotion or retreat. <br />
“I think he looked very happy.” Damien said pleasantly. <br />
“I think he looked like some Queer Fetish model.”<br />
“True. But a happy one.”<br />
Damien wasn’t the only one in the family who could make his anger freeze like the arctic. The Vaughn’ cold fury was also invested in Alyssa. She began her argument slowly but it eventually evolved into a wintry gale of venom. “So now Ben,”<br />
“Bengi,” Damien corrected mildly.<br />
“So BEN, Is now going to drop out of school… model and sweep up hair at a salon to support Holt?” <br />
“Absolutely Dickensian wouldn’t you say?” Damien mused<br />
“He’s dressing like a total fag!” she raved. “He spends more time in a mirror then narcissus and the way he leers at the guys on campus…… “She fixed him with a stone cold gaze, “I know what evil you’ve been up to.”<br />
Damien was not amused, “Evil’s just a buzz word people throw around to garner a reaction… like “Terrorist” or “bisexual”.” <br />
“What would you call that… abomination?”<br />
“Justice.”<br />
“JUSTICE?”<br />
“They were going to beat The Poor little rabbit over there to death,” He said motioning to Peter. “So I’m giving them some repercussions.”<br />
“You can’t go around meddling with people’s lives. It’s wrong.” Alyssa pleaded. “Time’s have changed. It’s a modern world. It’s not some archaic “witches versus the world” scenario anymore.”<br />
Damien smiled. “You’re so nice. You’re not good. You’re not bad. You’re just nice.”<br />
Alyssa motioned to argue, but Damien silenced her.<br />
“I’m not good. I’m not nice. I’m just right.” His smile melted, “I’m the witch… you’re the world.” He threw up his hands in frustration, “Oh why bother…” He turned to walk away. <br />
Big blue eyes quivered with rage, and sadness. “You’re going to end up just like her.”<br />
He stopped. The muscles in his back tightened angrily. “You were very young when that happened. I’m not quite interested in a child’s perspective of those events, Ally.”<br />
“This is just what she was like before…”<br />
“I SAID ENOUGH!” He swung his hands in a wide arc. Everything flew back in front of him. It was like a wind machine hand just flipped on. Mail boxes tumbled, trees bent, newspapers flew past Alyssa’s head. The tidal wave of wind swept over her, knocking her to her knees and snatching at her purse.<br />
Ally and peter struggled to stand. “Do you have anything to safe for yourself?” She almost howled.<br />
Damien smiled blandly “One down…”<br />
By the time she was able to stand, he was gone. <br />
“What did you mean “end up like her”?” Peter squeaked.<br />
Alyssa brushed herself off, “He’s going to end up just like our oldest sister… Our dead sister.”</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-71209188406552555402011-01-20T13:53:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:30:17.071-08:00BMOC: Black Mage On Campus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">CHAPTER: 1<br />
The Devil in the Details<br />
<br />
Magic doesn’t care whether you believe in it or not. The less people drawing chalk circles and destroying their mothers freshly scrubbed floor boards, or wasting perfectly good chicken bones, (which could be used in a hearty soup or stew) is all the better. Quite frankly, Magic has enough people on the payroll and is so swamped at the moment, that it’s looking to outsource some projects to low level mysticism. <br />
The Vaughn family has never been able to be bothered with believing in magic. That would be redundant. It’s the family business. The Vaughn’s have dealt in curses, hexes and glass slippers longer then anyone cares to remember. It’s been said that there was a Vaughn in the court of every prolific ruler in European history, that the Vaughn’s advised kings and queens and shaped history from the shadows of arcane anonymity. It was said a Vaughn warned Marie Antoinette of her impending radical haircut before galloping from Versailles to safety and that it was a Vaughn who led the Tudor’s to success in the war of the roses. …Mostly this was said by granny Vaughn when she had had a little too much sherry after dinner and the conversation seemed to be lagging.<br />
When you’re raised in a family that keeps black cats and dances naked under the light of a full moon, it’s difficult to separate myth from mysticism. <br />
What could be stated with a degree of unerring certainty is that : the Vaughn’s were cursed. A fact granny Vaughn was very forthcoming about to her brood of young grandchildren. It was a story each of the 4 young Vaughn children could recite by heart. Instead of Curious George or Paddington bear, the Vaughn children were sent to bed with the whispered tale of Desiderata Vaughn and her terrible curse. Some might consider this cruel, but in Granny’s opinion it was better to know that heartbreak was built into your gene’s then having it suddenly confront you on your wedding day. If you expect to be alone at the altar or wake to a corpse in your honeymoon bed, it tends to lessen the shock. <br />
The curse on the Vaughn’s was simple and to the point. The Vaughn family line was to be a scourge on Mankind. <br />
Emphasis on the “man.”<br />
No Man could ever love a Vaughn. It was an edict that ran through the blood of the clan. It was also hastily inscribed on the front porch as a warning to the local boys. It would perhaps been more effective if it weren’t written in Latin, with the state of modern education being what it is today.<br />
In her defense Desiderata never meant to curse her progeny, her real intent was to curse men. <br />
Any man.<br />
All men.<br />
If it walked on three legs and couldn’t stop for directions, she wanted to see it suffer. And suffer they did. Every Vaughn Girl was violently beautiful, faces to launch ships, curves to drive men to murder and blue eyes that haunted dreams. The Vaughn girls were toxic angels. At the onset of puberty they became paragons of feminine mystique that catapulted through life leaving broken hearts, aching lust and destroyed ego’s in their wake. <br />
As a rule Witches are spindly, wart ridden creatures of disdain. Because it’s generally unfair to be both powerful and beautiful. Unfortunately for the Vaughns they had it all. Beauty and power and neither could save the men they loved or help dissuade the ones they didn’t from disaster. <br />
Currently the youngest and admittedly most beautiful of the Vaughn Grandchildren was working toward her degree in social work at the local college. Remington College was also a tradition in the Vaughn family. Desiderata when arriving in America and settling in the tiny hamlet of Remington almost single handedly funded the college’s transition from local teaching academy to private university some 80 years ago. All the Vaughn girls had gone there…some had even graduated.<br />
Allysandra Vaughn, Alyssa or Ally to her friends, was a hippy with a heart of gold. In an effort to avoid hurting any poor unsuspecting man with her family’s curse, she had decided to remain a virgin. This course of action didn’t exactly work. Abstaining from the many invitations and affections of her male classmates had quite a negative effect. Many young men pined away late hours of the night and hated their own girlfriends for not being Alyssa. They lusted for her. They begged for her. Not Having Alyssa tortured men as much as if she did date them. The Vaughn’s didn’t have any choice in the matter; they were going to torment men one way or another. And to Alyssa’s dismay the scourge the Vaughn’s caused on campus was about to get decidedly worse….<br />
<br />
<br />
The freshly mowed field spread out to the distance of the night like a great green quilt. The moon saturated sky poured blue light on three solitary figures illuminated by candlelight. An eldritch voice rose above the quiet “WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET ANON?”<br />
“I have to baby-sit on Tuesday.”<br />
“I have a final next week, I need to study for.”<br />
“Well, I guess we can just e-mail each other and figure it out…”<br />
Alyssa Vaughn looked furtively at her three companions sitting in a somewhat lopsided circle in the middle of the university’s darkened football field. IT wasn’t quite a coven to inspire awe. To her left sat a perky blonde with big, green, doe eyes, who possessed a body that could best be described as lush and a mind like tapioca pudding. Amy probably wasn’t the best choice for a Wiccan circle but she was Alyssa’s best friend and as such was reliably supportive even if she had no idea why she was there. To Amy’s extreme left sat two other students whose grand distinction for entrance to tonight’s ceremony was that they had both replied to the flier Alyssa had hung in the dorm common room. “Come commune with Nature, become one with the Great Spirit, and learn the traditions of ancient Wicca! (Vegan refreshments available).”<br />
The girl was the typical sort that came and went. All dark clothing and black nail polish. She called herself Deliria but Alyssa suspected her mother most likely called her Becky or heather. That’s what most witchcraft had been reduced to in today’s world, melodramatic music and poor choices in fashion. Deliria was nice enough but Alyssa would have preferred someone who read more Silver Raven wolf and a little less Ann Rice. <br />
Sitting next to “deliria” Was a pale and gangly boy who made awkwardness seem like an innate talent. His name was Tom. Everyone referred to him as Tommy though. There was a bit too much dignity in the name Tom. Tommy seemed far more suitable for a boy who made yard sticks look obese. His bristly bleached bangs stuck up like a flag over his too large nose and ears. <br />
They were quite the ragtag group but it was better then chanting and praying by herself, her sorority sisters although open to most forms of anti-establishment congregation would never have approved. One of the things she had promised dear old granny Vaughn was that she would keep tradition alive and teach anyone who wanted the old ways. Granny wouldn’t have exactly been proud that Alyssa was teaching random freshmen how to call the corners or pull down the moon but it did give Ally the opportunity to use the little meetings as a credit toward graduation. <br />
Ally stood up and brushed grass off her little floral skirt. Her sky blue eyes twinkled behind her long silky blonde bangs. She watched in satisfied pleasure as Tommy’s breath caught. She was a Vaughn. She knew she was beautiful. It was nice to know other people knew it too. “Merry Part then, the circle is done!” She held out a hand to Amy, “can you grab the candles Amy? I know coach Harris will be pissed if he finds them during tackling drills tomorrow morning.”<br />
Amy gave her a big grin and began chucking white candles in her backpack.<br />
“That’s it.” Whined Tommy.<br />
Alyssa regarded him with a cool eye, “You expected more?”<br />
“This was just a bunch of mumbo jumbo! Praise be to the goddess this and blessed be the goddess that. Holding hands and being quiet.”<br />
“You were more interested in, pentagrams and revenge spells” Alyssa asked with a dangerous tilt in her melodic voice.<br />
“Well ..Yeah!”<br />
“This isn’t a Harry potter novel Tommy. It’s my religion. And it’s very insulting of you to be so pop culture about it.” Alyssa sniffed. “You want to use magic to get what you want? Punish your enemies? Take a piece for yourself? You want some power.” She said snippily.<br />
“Fuck yeah!” Tommy said his eyes lighting up excitedly. <br />
“That’s not what magic is for.” She said with a note of finality.<br />
“That’s a matter of opinion.” A deep resonant voice interjected.<br />
“You stay out of this Damien Vaughn.” She said with the quick response time that can only be developed over years of sibling rivalry.<br />
Off to the side of their litter circle a large form shrugged indifferently. “Just trying to instigate discussion, Ally.” His ice blue eyes glowed with mirth. “Or dissention.”<br />
Damien was 11 months, 17 days and 6 hours older then Alyssa. He never let her forget it for a moment. As older brother’s go he was pretty A typical- Bossy- Condescending- judgmental- and piously interfering. He sat with the shadow’s cloaking him like a blanket, his now large frame bundled in loose fitting sweats the color of a moonless midnight. The cowl of his hoody was pulled up far- hiding all but his luminous crystal eyes in their depths. It was somewhat tragic that they were born so close together, otherwise they may have be friends instead of merely family. There close proximity in age and their polar personalities made growing up together less then pleasant. Granny Vaughn used to call them night and day or on rare occasions when Damien was behaving particularly frustrating she referred to them as “the good one” and “That god-forsaken, hell-spawn, changeling the fey left in your mother’s cradle to torment me!”<br />
Damien was fair where Alyssa’s skin gleamed a deep healthy bronze in the deepest winter. Damien had the hereditary inky black Vaughn hair where as Alyssa took after her father with long blonde curls. Damien was quiet. Alyssa was as perky and boisterous as a highly caffeinated stewardess. Alyssa followed the rule of the three, gave back to the land, and strove for balance. <br />
Damien… well Damien didn’t. <br />
The only rules Damien liked were those he could break…and break hard. He didn’t give back. He gave people what he felt they deserved. Balance was completely abhorrent to his nature. He liked Chaos utter and complete chaos. <br />
For all there differences they did share several things in common- the blue eyes of course. Somewhere in the Vaughn genetics was a vein of sapphire. Most likely it was connected to the gene that gave the Vaughn’s their involuntary gift for magic.<br />
Magic, they also shared that. <br />
...but of course there was the polarizing issue of gender. Alyssa was a woman down to her pink toenails. Damien was a man, which caused Granny Vaughn an endless amount of anxiety. Damien was the only male Vaughn, to be born in generations. The Vaughn’s turned out little black hat wearing girls like a fine tuned machine. Men had no business being witches. They didn’t have the temperament. But there he sat… an aberration. A dangerous one at that. Not only was he decidedly male, he was also terribly more gifted in the craft then she or any of their other siblings. Partly because of an almost inconceivable natural affinity for it and also because he had spent years upon years studying magic in all it’s forms from theory to ritual… until he was a living arsenal of arcane knowledge. Most dangerous of all Damien understood Quantum theory. Understand Quantum and you understand just about everything. The most rudimentary philosophy Granny Vaughn ever instilled in her grandchildren was “Never bet on a sure thing and always get the gentlemen’s name and address.” Damien had studied Chaos theory to quantum theory. He could pontificate on the laws of probability and the malleable structure of time. He did his undergrad in Physics and Sociology. He new more about Steven Hawking then he did about Allistar Crawly.<br />
He was something the world has never known before: A Well educated witch. It’s no coincidence that arcane might traditionally was held in the grubby hands of old ladies who spent too much time in their gardens and talked to their cats. It keeps the playing field level. Not Damien. He had a genius level intellect and a finely educated mind. Another of poor Granny Vaughn’s qualms with him. There weren’t many things Granny Vaughn disapproved of but an Education in magic, was definitely at the top. <br />
Granny had thought at least Damien would manage to escape the Vaughn curse being a man himself, however that proved quite untrue. Fate has quite the sense of humor. Damien was a worse scourge on men then a beautiful woman could have ever been. <br />
“I told you, you could come IF you didn’t speak.” She said loudly to her brother without looking at him. <br />
“yes mam.” He responded with no hint of respect in his amused tone. <br />
Alyssa began helping Amy pack up the ritual supplies. This was the first time Damien had spoken all night and if he had suddenly decided to get chatty, the night was going to take a turn for the worse. She could see Tommy and “Deliria” eyeing him excitedly and suppressed a groan. <br />
“Do you know any magic?” Deliria asked with dry excited lips.<br />
Eyes of glittering ice regarded her coolly, “I’ve been known to pull a rabbit out of hat in my time.” He noticed Alyssa’s back stiffen in agitation, then added, “However Alyssa’s has always been much better at candles, runes and mother earth then I could ever be.” No one but Alyssa noticed the cutting edge of the taunt.<br />
“What are you good at?” Deliria asked hungrily.<br />
“Causing trouble.” Alyssa snapped, “And at least for tonight he can bloody well be good at keeping his mouth shut.”<br />
For a minute Alyssa felt a stab of fear. Damien was giving her a flat icy glare. This was the same look that usually precipitated the death of several of her Barbies when they were kids. He rose fluidly out of his seated position and stood to his full height. Large, square shoulders loomed above her head. Shit, he had gotten so big. She remembered her brother as a skinny, 5 10 punk… not this…this… Man.<br />
“…You agreed.” She almost stammered<br />
“Yes I did and I believe I’ve lived up to my half of our agreement, yet you have yet to meet yours.” He took a step forward large legs undulating against the dark blue cotton of his sweats, “I want my notebook, Glinda.”<br />
Alyssa shook her head in apology, “Look Damien Peter was supposed to be here tonight. I can’t imagine why he isn’t. He said he’d bring it back to me tonight…I guess I can call him in the morning.” Why was that ratty old notebook so important anyway? It had sat in her closet since he graduated, a forgotten piece of random trash, Filled to overflowing with Damien’s spidery hand. Unintelligible notes on the Medici’s and Borgia’s, funny pictures and remnant quotes from Italian hymnals. Translations from archaic and arguably useless Grimoire’s. She had only lent it to peter because he was taking a class on medieval literature. Then suddenly her older brother shows up on her doorstep demanding it back. Hell he hadn’t given a damn about it for years.<br />
Damien was about to give her a nasty response when he suddenly, looked away. He stared past the bleachers for a moment and his blank expression erupted in a sudden smile. He turned back to her and said, “Shouldn’t you be getting along.” It was a clear dismissal. “I know how you enjoy getting up with the dawn to do yoga and cleanse your charkas and all that rut.” <br />
Alyssa stuck out her tongue at him. “Fine spend all night out here in the cold, it’s not going to get you that stupid notebook any quicker.”<br />
His smile grew wider, “Oh I don’t know about that.” he seemed to consider for a minute, “There’s more then one way to skin a cat…” the smile grew malicious “as I’m sure you well remember.”<br />
Alyssa made a strangled gasp, “I loved that cat!” <br />
Damien shrugged “I was six. I was curious. I wanted to see how it worked.”<br />
Alyssa squared her shoulders. “We are Leaving!” she announced. She marched across the field, toting her little coven behind her. <br />
Damien just watched them go. He seemed to be waiting for something…<br />
“Is your brother really that powerful?” Amy asked in whisper.<br />
“Yes.” Was Alyssa’s simple answer. “But magic always comes with a price.” She looked back and shivered, “And I wouldn’t want to face his fate for all the gold in heaven or silver in hell.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Finally! I thought they’d never leave. My sister, as much as it irritates me to admit, is right. I am paying a price. A hefty one. I’m loosing control of my powers and it’s starting to irritate me…and unfortunately it’s going to kill me. Which is why I need that Damn book. If I hadn’t destroyed my collection of priceless manuscripts and years of carefully catalogued notes I wouldn’t be in this predicament. As it is I need to find every remaining scrap of my research in hopes of finding a solution to my problem. Which is why I need that damn book!<br />
…speaking of which, here it comes.<br />
<br />
Peter hurtled past the bleachers, panting and gasping as fast as his untrained legs could take him. Alyssa would be down there. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and began to run faster. Those guys wouldn’t do anything in front of witnesses. <br />
He was running with such panic that he didn’t even notice the brick wall until he bounced of off it, collapsing to the ground. Peter looked up and realized it wasn’t a brick wall. IT was a man. A big one.<br />
“You’re late.” It rumbled.<br />
“Please!” peter squeaked, “you gotta help me. These guys are chasing me, and they’re gonna kick my ass if they …”<br />
The large man grumbled, “OF course t here’s guys chasing him,” he said to himself and then looked skyward “why do I have to be the bloody patron bloody saint of helpless fags?” <br />
Peter recoiled from the hooded stranger “How do you know I’m gay.” He spat defensively.<br />
“Law of averages.” The guy eyed him condescendingly, “plus you run like a girl.”<br />
For lack of anything else to say peter mumbled, “I’m Peter.”<br />
“I’m aware.”<br />
There was a long pause, then the guy sighed and pulled back his hood. The face beneath was angular with a hard masculine jaw. Short black hair ended in bleached tips. His lips and cheeks were lined with a tight black beard. “I’m Damien.” The most striking feature of that face however was two gleaming crystal eyes that betrayed no emotion but glinted devilishly in the full-moon light.<br />
Peter sagged with relief, “you’re Alyssa’s brother.”<br />
“Among other things.” <br />
Suddenly a crowd of about ten angry college guys rounded the bleachers and made their way toward them. The smell of stale beer, pungent marijuana and rampant testosterone wafted forward.<br />
“That would be the literal barbarians at the proverbial gate I take it?” Damien asked with an arched eyebrow.<br />
“Shit! We gotta get outta here!” Peter yelped and jumped to his feet to run.<br />
Damien reached out a big paw and grabbed his shoulder. “Stay right where you are.”<br />
“Why”<br />
“Because I can’t protect you if you are across the field, little rabbit. Now, stand still and try not to wet yourself.” Something seemed to suddenly occur to Damien, “Why are they chasing you?”<br />
Peter shuffled his feet, “Well… I er….”<br />
“Who’s your friend FAGGOT?” A deep resonate bass voice yelled. The angry villagers had reached the castle. They stood in a crowd. Enough large athletic drunken Frat Boys to fill a locker room. They stunk of booze, pot and animal rage.<br />
Damien smiled; he could already feel the thunder rolling inside him. “10 large Frat monkeys after one little rabbit?” He shook his head. “Now, that’s just unsporting.”<br />
A tall wide shoulder boy with pretty features and a well developed chest strode forward. “Look …dude…a …sir?” He fumbled. Obviously this young man was more intelligent then his slobbering angry friends. “Peter owes us an explanation, so if you could just go on your way, we’d much appreciate it.” The young looker drawled in a distinctly southern accent. Texas maybe? <br />
Damien sighed and looked down at the terrified-bug eyed kid at his feet. “What exactly did you do?” He asked steeling his patience for the answer.<br />
“LITTLE PERV TRIED TO STEAL MY FUCKING JOCKSTRAP!” The largest of the boys stepped forward. He was slightly shorter then the Texan, but he was thicker, wider and more compact. Dark brown hair was styled angelically above a sweet, boy next door face. His eyes were the luminous liquid brown of puppy dogs. They were dreamy and sympathetic. Well they would have been but his face seemed trained toward cruelty. He seemed accustomed to barking orders from lips that were pulled in a perpetual sneer. He had terrible Chi. Damien didn’t much care for this guy at all.<br />
“You did what?” Damien asked amused, his eyebrows arching in disbelief.<br />
“I was… I was…” Peter fumbled. Then gave a sour look up a Damien, “You should understand, your sister says you know magic too!”<br />
Damien began to giggle uncontrollably. “You stole that brute’s underwear for a spell…” <br />
The tall Texan thought he found an opening for negotiation. My, wasn’t he sly and intelligent. “See he’s a fucking freak, now let’s just be men about this… let us teach him a quick lesson and knock some sense in him.”<br />
Damien admired the kid’s people skills and moxy, but his teeth still grated. Ever since he cast that damn transformation spell in a moment of supreme weakness, this type of thing kept happening. Other men would discourse with him in the macho buddy-buddy chummy-chummy vernacular of misogyny. IT was quite perturbing. “I think not. Now go back to your frat house and intoxicate yourselves like good boys…” his smile grew impossibly colder, “before someone gets hurt.”<br />
“Don’t take any shit from this dude, Rob.” A short, sweat-suit wearing kid yelled. So, the Texan’s name was Rob. Interesting.<br />
Rob gave Damien a weary look. The kid was smart enough to recognize Damien’s threat and even smarter to be cautious. “Who are you anyway?”<br />
“Damien.” There was a pause, “Damien Vaughn.”<br />
“OH FUCK!” <br />
Half the onlookers became noticeably agitated and began looking for a quick escape. From the back of the crowd a shaggy haired heavy shouldered boy stepped forward, “Rob,” He said to the Texan with the wide back and narrow waist, Then looked at the brutish all American boy, “Leo… We better go back to the frat…now.”<br />
Damien looked closely at this new voice of reason. For the first time in years Damien was actually so shocked he couldn’t hide it. “Drake?” He asked incredulously.<br />
The shaggy haired boy looked down at his feet in shame, “Hi Damien.” He mumbled.<br />
Damien puffed out his chest and clicked his tongue in disgust, “Drake Harrington. I knew you were capable of some silly shit but this is… even beyond my boundless imagination.”<br />
“You know this guy?” Petulant Leo asked his buddy. Drake Harrington was handsome… the way soap opera stars were. He was Tiger beat handsome with light blue eyes. Teenage heart throb packed into a meaty face with a brawny frame to match. Drake was a cross between a blacksmith and a pin up. <br />
And yes they did know each other.<br />
Drake, for his part, wasn’t ready to tell anyone’s secrets especially his own, “He’s a Vaughn. Everyone who was raised around here knows about the Vaughns.”<br />
It was true. In the Town of Remington, the vaughns were half local celebrity, half urban legend. In this tiny College town there were as many stories about the Vaughns as there were street signs. When you have a family of witches that cause as much trouble as the Vaughns, word gets around. Half of them true, half of them tall tales. But everyone who grew up there knew one thing was for sure. The Vaughns were not to be fucked with. <br />
Rob seemed to consider for a minute, “Vaughn?” His Texan drawl seemed to remember something, “Didn’t some chick a couple years ago, named Vaughn Jump off the…”<br />
“THAT’S Enough…” Damien yelled, cutting rob off mid-sentence. “…local folklore for one night.”<br />
Drake raised his big meaty hands pleadingly, “look Damien half these guys aren’t from around here. They don’t know any better.”<br />
Leo pumped his fists angrily in the air. As far as he was concerned this was ridiculous. This Vaughn dude who ever he was, was standing between him and something he wanted. Years of being raised as the favorite son of a Rhode island real estate broker had taught him that nothing he wanted was not his to take. “You’re a bigger pussy then peter is, Drake.” <br />
“Fuck this faggot too!” The Short kid in sweats barked. My wasn’t he the loudmouth. He had an unkempt beard that hung beneath a big bold nose. His long hair was stuffed beneath a tight skull cap and he had a positively Napoleonic swagger. Damien sighed, the infamous temperament of the short man. The guy couldn’t have stood more then 5’8 or 5’9 but his sweats did little to hide the tight muscular build. He was a hot head. Damien could tell this by the rock the little prick was now throwing at his head.<br />
A look of horror crossed Drake’s face, “Ben NO!” he barked trying to dissuade his aggressive, shorter frat brother.<br />
The rock hurtled towards Damien. Behind him, Peter squealed in terror and convulsed into a defensive crouch. <br />
He caught the rock without ever shifting his gaze from the four ringleaders and their six friends. His fist clenched around the offending projectile weapon. The short kid, Ben was his name apparently, looked completely stunned. “I warned you.” Damien practically whispered. He wheeled back his own big arm and threw the rock. His throw overshot however and skittered off to the right. IT struck the bleachers with a resounding thud.<br />
Ben and Leo laughed condescendingly, “You missed! You limp-wristed bitch!”<br />
Blue eyes regarded them expressionlessly. “Perhaps you weren’t aware of what I was aiming at.”<br />
From beneath the bleachers the shrieks of a hundred disturbed mammals echoed across the dark field. A cloud of pure black rose angrily and vengeance bore down on the group of frat boys on a flock of leathery wings. <br />
“Shit!”<br />
Bats swarmed up chirping and soaring across the field, scattering the angry mob. Fraternity blazers were lost among the seemingly ceaseless onslaught of bats taking flight from their roost.<br />
”limp wrested indeed,” Damien muttered. <br />
He turned toward Peter who was frozen in horror. He had been terrified of getting beaten to death by the Kappa Omega Frat boys. He was now however much more suspicious of his savior. “Stealing underwear?” Damien spat. “I’m aware that some men have this particularly exotic fetish, but do you think it’s worth your life, little rabbit?”<br />
“It was for a spell…” peter rambled and stuttered still petrified with fear, “I read about it online… a body swap spell…”<br />
Damien’s calm and glacial face twisted in disgust. “You wanted to steal Leo’s body?” He advanced on the pathetic cringing freshmen. “You wanted to steal another man’s hard won physique and prowess. To thieve what you yourself are too lazy to accomplish on your own?” The intimidating man’s voice dripped with revulsion. His whole body twitched, repulsed at the concept.<br />
Peter started to back away looking very much like the rabbit Damien had called him. “I thought if I used one of the spells in that notebook…that I could…you know I could…”<br />
Damien’s head shot up. All his loathing melted into sudden concern, “The notebook! You have it. Give it to me!”<br />
Peter was no longer inching away… he was crawling at a dead run. “I er…. I think I Dropped it.”<br />
Fists clenched. Teeth grated. Crystal eyes drilled holes in his forehead. “You dropped it!” <br />
“HEY FAGGOT You loose something!”<br />
“SPIT And HADES!” <br />
Damein whirled around. The mob and the bats were gone. The three boys, Ben, Rob and Leo however were regrettably still there. And there was a conspicuous marble notebook in Leo’s hand. “You want this?” Rob jeered tauntingly. He reached into the pocket of his Remington Letterman’s Jacket and produced a lighter. He struck the flame agonizingly close to the notebook’s crinkled yellow pages.<br />
“NO!” Damien yelled. And cursed himself for not keeping the desperation out of his voice. <br />
“It must be real important.” Leo mused flipping through the books crinkled pages.<br />
“I think it’s time for a bonfire!” Ben shouted and then hiccupped loudly.<br />
Damien was back peddling like a politician in a sex scandal, “It’s nothing, a useless little notepad filled with junk… But it is mine.”<br />
Leo’s Face hardened “You want it, come get it.” He challenged.<br />
Well that wouldn’t do any damn good. He could have easily taken the thing from the inebriated punks but then the damn thing would be useless.<br />
One of the many tenants of magic.<br />
Knowledge had to be given, both metaphorically and literally. Were Damien to take his notebook back by force, it would negate any power he gleaned from the pages. <br />
They had to give it to him. <br />
This was fucking ridiculous. <br />
He could be at watching the food network. Instead he was locked in a contest of wills with three whelps over a notebook and a rabbit. He sighed resolutely. “In the words of Monty Hall, Let’s make a deal.”<br />
“What the fuck do we want from you…? Except your little boyfriend.” Ben snorted.<br />
“As Drake told you, I am a Vaughn.” He grinned, “We have certain …talents.”<br />
“That’s all bullshit.” Leo Spat.<br />
“Tetranum Ignoto!” Damien shot one vein covered forearm into the air. Lightening slashed out of the clear sky. It sizzled down onto the field illuminating the goalpost in a fury of blue electricity. Shadows danced up and down the scoreboard erupting like fireworks into the night air. <br />
The three boys stood jaws agape and shivering.<br />
Damien looked back at peter and said wryly, “Pyrotechnics always impress the peasants.”<br />
Damien moved languorously toward them with a sly look, “Now I’ll admit that in the past I’ve been a nasty, People weren’t kidding when they called me well,” he paused for affectation, “a Witch.”<br />
The three braggarts flinched back from him, “But you’ll find that nowadays I’ve mended all my ways, repented seen the light and made a switch. True? Yes. And I fortunately know a little magic,” He shrugged humbly, “It’s a talent that I always have possessed. Now boys please don’t laugh, I use it on behalf of the miserable, the lonely and depressed.” He gave peter a quick wink. “I can give you anything you want ..Fame … fortune… a reasonable interest rate on a home loan?”<br />
Rob of course was the first to recover. He looked up from the notebook he had been till now studying. “If I give this to you… You’ll …er… cast a spell for us?” He stumbled over the words obviously skeptical of what was happening.<br />
“Yes.”<br />
Leo and Ben were still too stunned to participate.<br />
“Alright.” Rob agreed.<br />
“Cast this one.” Rob handed Damien the notebook, open to a particular page. “…and it’s yours.”<br />
Damien’s grin split his face “You see what can be accomplished when everyone agrees to be civilized!” He took the book triumphantly but the smile slid off quickly when he saw the page Rob had chosen. “Not this one. You don’t want this one.”<br />
“That book says that spell will make all your desires come true. Its about wishing wells. ” Rob said.<br />
“It will but you have to understand…”<br />
“OH FUCK THIS!” Leo roared finally recovering, “Just do what he told you Gandalf so we can get out of here and forget this night ever happened!”<br />
It might have been Leo’s tone, the late hour, or Damien’s own eagerness to have his property and be done. He looked maliciously at them. He decided quite easily to stop giving a fuck. “Agreed: word for word. Thus is the bargain offered. Thus is the bargain made.” He intoned ominously. <br />
HE began to read from the scratchy ink of his own hand, “Veradai Arcanum…” His voice droned on in incomprehensible latin while he inconspicuously began drawing a pentagram around himself in the dirt of the field, “Get inside the circle.” He whispered to peter urgently. But Peter it seemed was no longer eager to accept Damien’s protection and retreated from the Witch. “Do it now.” Reluctantly peter edged toward the circle of protection. Damien continued to drone on confidant the Peter would heed his advice.<br />
The air crackled with energy. Damein could feel it swelling with in him. Begging for release, it was a horrible tidal wave of expectation. Every cell in his body pulsed with the fury of arcane force. The power he had tried to hold in check for so long was suddenly free and it coursed across his senses like a living breathing thing. He barely even noticed that Peter had stepped out of the circle. He was probably frightened by the supernatural blue light radiating from Damien’s eyes. Pathetic little nuisance. Whatever concern Damien might have had was washed away by the ecstay of being full of energy.<br />
His energy.<br />
His power.<br />
Most Witch’s would have to focus their entire conscience on pulling energy from the world around them. Borrowing power from the environment. Damien just had to relax. It was contemptuously easy for him to release the hungry turrent of primal force.<br />
He held it tight till his teeth ached and his body shook. IT was a song with in him that rocked him from the core with a symphony of chaos and possibility.<br />
IT was like being alive.<br />
The only time he felt alive.<br />
Begrudginly he finished the spell and released the power. The detonation of the spell sent a shock wave across the field that leveled the four other men and sent tackling dummies and disgaurded gear tumbling toward the far off baseball diamonds.<br />
“Now as par our agreement, Leave and forget that this night ever happened.” Damien Commanded. He watched as the three luckless boys stumbled back to their Frat house to reap their terrible rewards.<br />
“I can’t believe you did that.” Peter whined behind him. He was looking at the notebook, reading the spell Damien had just cast.<br />
“Belief is a tenuous thing.” Damien agreed. “Most people would find this evenings events hard to swallow.”<br />
Peter gave him a sulky look, “no I can’t believe you’re going to grant those … those… dickheads wishes!”<br />
“What?”<br />
Peter pointed angrily at the book “Right here the spell is called the Wish of Seven Wells!”<br />
Damien rolled his eyes and snatched the book from him. He strode off the field without a second glance at Peter.<br />
“Those Kappa Bastards already run the campus. They don’t deserve to have their fucking wishes granted.” Peter grumbled running to catch up.<br />
Damien stopped so abruptly peter ran headlong into the impacable mass of his wide back. “This particular notebook is from the time I spent studying 15th century ritualistic magic.” He said. “It’s all very archaic and dark, not very much my style. Most of it is built up out of the mythology and superstitions of the church. Goat’s heads, pentagrams and papal intrigue.” He turned to face peter with a very unpleasant smile. “Yes that spell will technically give them what they desire. It will give them what they want, until they don’t want it anymore.” The unpleasant smile was now a menacing scowl, “and then my little rabbit… it will give them what they deserve.”<br />
Peter still didn’t grasp what he was trying to explain. He gave the book to peter, “Read the title again… very carefully. The last word isn’t Wells.”<br />
Peter examined the page. “The wish of seven… hells? HELLS?”<br />
“I always did have sloppy penmanship.” Damien laughed ruefully, “That’s the thing about magic… It’s the Devil in the Details.”<br />
Peter followed Damien off the deserted field studying the strange man with expectation, horror and awe. The quite of the night was broken only by Damien’s deep melodious voice light heartedly singing.<br />
“Poor unfortunate souls… in pain.. In need…”<br />
<br />
</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-62649041463796767372011-01-20T13:50:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:47:59.710-08:00PRACTICAL MAGIC: Livin La Vida Loca<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Chp 1<br />
<br />
I wasn't always like this... but Steve...I mean my Master says I won't be able to remember any of that in a little while.<br />
<br />
He tells me that as soon as I finish writing this, he's going to make me forget about everything except what he wants me to remember. A part of me is grateful that I won't...that's the part that Master created. The real me wants to fight and try to reclaim my life from Master's control but then I see my reflection in a shop window or a car mirror and I know it's hopeless. I try to escape but I feel the weight of my legs and take one look at master's beautiful jaw and I forget all about it.<br />
<br />
I think it's the weight that makes me forget, and makes me fee so slow...all this heavy weight on my pec's my thighs..my calves... I bulge and ripple everywehere and it makes me think real slow cause It's so heavy and I get lost watching all of it move like liquid rock under my rich skin... Every time try to think it's like all this weight and the stiff heavy aching of my constant rock hard cock just make me forget... It's like al my attnetion's in the weight of my big meaty tit's or in the thrust of my hungry dick...<br />
<br />
I can't even remember how I even used to be. Well I remember I just don't really understand it. My name Used to be Jonathan Shamrock. It's not anymore. This is his story. Master says I should write it down so I can start a new story in my new life.<br />
<br />
I met Steve about 7 months ago during my Christmas break. I was out with my current girlfriend at the time. I think her name was Faith or Hope or something ridiculous like that. I had a taste for bimbo's with heavy packaging. I don't remember much about her personality but I do remember she had to very big assets, which she always displayed in the most ludicrously low cut blouses. I had taken her out to my favorite bar so I could watch the last Basketball game of the weekend, ply her with alcohol and then fuck her drunken brains out before my live in girlfriend Amanda was any the wiser.<br />
<br />
I pretty much had the pick of the litter considering I was 6'2 in shape and rich. My dark Irish good looks and black hair made look like the boy next door wich was usualy enough to get any girl to agree to a drink.<br />
<br />
The particular bimbo I decided to entertain that night turned out to be one of those surprise packages. You know the kinda of Girl who looks like Pamela Anderson but grills you like Gillian Anderson? Yeah she had brains to go with her big tits and blonde hair. Needless to say she quickly saw through my college jock wam bam thank ya mam routine. And shit was she pissed. She started calling me a pig and very carefully explaining to me that women are not to be treated like a moments diversion and that to think you can just give a dumb girl a drink and automatically fuck her just cause your rich and good-looking is ridiculous.<br />
<br />
She might have made me a little angrier than I was ready for because then I yelled back at her that if I wanted to treat her like a fuck doll I could. I had the looks, the money and the intelligence. I think that's when the drink went flying in my face. I was so shocked that the bitch actually threw her drink at me that I automatically brought my hand up to grab her. I really didn't want to hit her I mean I had no conscious intention of it, I just instinctively reacted. Guess that's all that heterosexual male testosterone taking over...<br />
<br />
Well things got worse from their man. As soon as my hand came up this big Mexican bouncer grabbed my forearm. The chick split in disgust and I was left with this big dirty spic bar mop holding me. I told him to take his fucking dirty hands off me. Which just made the gorilla even angrier. He told me if I didn't behave he was going to toss me out of the bar on my ear. And I told him that I could by and sell his goddamn Caribbean ass so he better watch his wet back tongue.<br />
<br />
It's true my parents god rest their luckless souls left me a hefty trust fund to pay for med. school. The unlucky bastards went down in some two seater coming back from vacation up north one morning like 15 years ago. Which I guess is pretty tragic but the good part of the deal is I get all their savings and non of their supervision.<br />
<br />
The Mexican looked real pissed at the slurs but I was drunk with blue balls and a bruised ego. So I told him to let go of me or I'd call INS and have his border-jumping ass deported s fast they wouldn't even have time to tell his wife and twenty kids. And I told him in Spanish. It's one of the languages I'm fluent in.<br />
<br />
Finally the bartender interceded and convinced the brute that "I wasn't worth it." My parting shot however was to answer back that I was worth him and twenty of his dishwashing brothers. What can I say I was one funny guy right?<br />
<br />
That's where Steve came in...literally. I was washing beer off of my Abercrombie Sweater when this 30-ish body builder came into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He wasn't one of those huge freakish bodybuilders but he was big enough for me to notice. He was wearing a very neutral sweatshirt and jean combo with a pulled down baseball cap hiding his eyes.<br />
<br />
He quietly went over and used a urinal, ignoring me at the sinks. So I went back to washing my shirt and muttering under my breath. When he came over to wash his hands however I saw the two most beautiful green eyes swimming under the shadows of his ball cap.<br />
<br />
He looked up at me with a very welcoming grin and said "quite a show out there, huh?" I answered back yeah. I don't know but something about this guys grin and green eyes totally disarmed me. He saw all that and was still nice to me? That was real cool, I guess.<br />
<br />
He gave me a really long look and asked me if I had meant everything I had said out there. I thought about it and gave non-chalant shrug. I guess I did, I mean I didn't really think it mattered or not. So I answered yes. He sighed and gave me an amused disapproving frown and shook his head.<br />
<br />
And then the dude did the funniest thing, he asked me if I like his watch.<br />
<br />
I looked at it for a second and noticed how shinny it was and how it kind of gave off little lights in patterns from the inside.<br />
<br />
He told me to look at it closely because there was something inscribed on the surface. I told him I couldn't make anything out because the lights from inside it were making my eyes all unfocused. I did and the more I stared at it the harder it was to see anything at all.<br />
<br />
Then Steve began to talk to me in a very soothing tone that made me feel like the words were melting in the air around me. I just kind of floated there for a second staring at the watch and listening to this total stranger's voice. His voice was just so comforting it almost made me want to go to sleep, right their in a bar bathroom.<br />
<br />
I can't remember what exactly he said...just bits and pieces...something about ridiculous attitude and spoiled brat...Racist son of a....and sexist mosagonist ego driven basta...like I said I cant really remember.<br />
<br />
"What's it say?" he asked with that smile and greed eyes flashing.<br />
<br />
"I dunno..." I stammered finally jarred awake.<br />
<br />
"Well maybe you'll figure it out someday," he said with a laugh..."my name's Steve by the way."<br />
<br />
"Jonathon" I answered back shaking his hand. I was overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of joy that came over me just because I knew this man's name. I kept repeating it over and over again in my hand like I was trying to make sense of it.<br />
<br />
He gave me a business card, that read Steve Conner Personal trainer and therapist, it had a barbell on the face and his number.<br />
<br />
I thanked him and he told me to give him a call if I ever needed any help getting in shape or someone to talk to. And then he smiled again and left. I shook my head as he walked out the door his powerful back disappearing behind the wooden frame. I felt like a fog had been lifted and I went to throw the card into the trash but for some reason I stuffed it into my pocket and left the bar without another look back<br />
<br />
I was in my car driving back to my apartment when I got the overwhelming urge to look at the card again. It was bizarre. I just wanted to look at it. I felt like I had to. So I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and retrieved it from my pocket. I looked at it for a second and then before I knew what I was doing, I had dialed my cell phone and heard a ringing in my ears. What the fuck was I doing!!! Holy shit I had to hang up before..."hello this is Steve Conners..." there was long pause and then I finally stammered "Uhm...er...hi...Steve this is john." He said greeted me with that same warm almost affectionate tone and asked me how I was and a dozen other pleasantries before I blurted out...."I want to know if I can you know train with you some time this week?" No I didn't I work out with my buddies at the school gym...I didn't want to have to pay some random guy to..."sure Jon how's Tuesday at 9 sound" I told him great even though I had bio-chemistry at that time and I still didn't want to meet him. He gave me an address and we said goodbye. I sat their in my darkened car for another 15 minutes marveling at the strangeness of my night before going home and fucking the brains out of Amanda. Chp2<br />
<br />
I think that first Tuesday when instead of grabbing some breakfast, my books and heading to bio-chem I put on a pair of sweats and hopped in my car without thinking, I should have known something was wrong. But instead I just drove happily to the gym that Steve's directions lead me to without a second thought.<br />
<br />
It was in one of those weird sections of town that just had to be a gay neighborhood. Which made me really pause. I didn't want to be at a gay gym! But then I saw Steve looking out of one of the big picture windows with that big smile and I went right In on autopilot.<br />
<br />
Steve gave me a big handshake and we went right to working out which was kind of weird. As we went from machine to machine I just kind of opened up to him. I'm not usually one of those people who talk about his personal life and problems but Steve's smile was just so reassuring that I just felt I should. I told him all about Amanda and my cheating on her, about my parents and the trust fund about Med school and how I was only in it for the salary and how I couldn't give a fuck about the people or healing others. He didn't even seem angry or disgusted the way most people usually do when I tell them the truth, he just gave me that disapproving amused frown.<br />
<br />
We were half way through our work out when some huge steroid beast in Lycra and sweat asked if he could work in with us on one of the machines. Steve noticed me roll my eyes and pulled me aside so we could evaluate the guy from a comfortable distance. He asked me why that guy irritated me so much. I laughed and told him how much I love talking to big muscle bound fags.<br />
<br />
He looked confusion.<br />
<br />
I told him to look at the guy. In the first place, I said, he barely even looks like a human being. I mean he looked like muscle and nothing else just one huge Muscle Mountain stuffed into fucking spandex. And all that spandex meant all the stupid fag wants is for some dude to fill those over grown glutes with dick. I laughed. Steve didn't. It was the one time he gave me a dark look, but then he shook it off and smiled again.<br />
<br />
I quickly explained to him that he didn't seem that way. I told him his body was that perfect balance of muscle. He was big but not huge. The more I tried to back peddle the more he seemed amused. He told me to forget about it so I did.<br />
<br />
For some reason I couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but the next time I got to work out with Steve. My whole life seemed to suddenly revolve around the next time I was going to get to lift with him. I mean I would sit at my desk, and try to finish my anatomy homework but all I could think of was Steve looming over me counting reps as I pushed the bar up. But I didn't do that many bench presses did I? Of course not...Steve and I rarely worked out chest. He knew I didn't want to get to be big. Just tone. But we work out three hours each day don't we and that would mean we'd have to do more then just...Ugh every time I would think too much about my workouts I'd get a splitting headache. So I would just drop it and imagine Steve again behind me steadying my arms during my fly curls, his heavy chest pressed against my back. The tips of his nipples digging into my back flesh as I felt his massive pecs expand with every breath he too...I felt myself growing hard at just the thought of it.<br />
<br />
What the fuck was wrong with?<br />
<br />
I wasn't a fag.<br />
<br />
I had never even thought of a guys chest...but Steve's bodybuilder physique seemed to have some kind of supernatural power over me. It was so fucking weird. I had tried to stop meeting with him but I just couldn't bring myself to skip one appointment with him. I wanted to just give the whole fucking thing up. I couldn't remember how I got myself into it in the first place. But every time I tried I'd always just end up sitting in my beamer in the parking lot of the gym trying desperately not to go in. I just couldn't help myself. I would try and turn the key and all I could think of was Steve's look of disappoint at my giving up. ME! HA! Me who had never cared about anybody. Suddenly I didn't want this muscle headed Personal trainer thinking I was a quitter? What the fuck? But I'd always shuffle in and find Steve looking up from a machine with a wide grin of approval that made my heart soar like some retarded school kid who suddenly started coloring in the lines. We had been working out together for about three weeks when he suggested that I looked a little sickly. I told him I felt fine. But his disapproving stare told me that I was wrong. Maybe I did look a little peeked? But I'm a med student if there was anything wrong I'd be aware. I brushed it off and he seemed to be a little irritated by my reticence to agree with him.<br />
<br />
The next day he mentioned it again and this time I just instinctively agreed. I don't know why it was just knee jerk. I didn't quite see the point I arguing anymore. Strange.<br />
<br />
After our workout which seemed to me to only last about an hour but actually took like 3...where the fuck dos the time go when we're together, he took me into the back locker rooms and handed me some supplements to take until I felt better. I looked in the box and saw a handful of syringes vials and pills. I ask him what the fuck were these? He explained that these were going to make me stop being sick. He said he didn't want his little buddy getting sick. I told him that as a Med Student I knew that nobody needed this much shit to feel better unless they were a cancer survivor. I laughed. He didn't. His dark brown eyes bore into me with such irritation and disappointment that I wanted to cry. I was so upset that Steve was mad at me that I quickly agreed to start taking them right there. He smiled that sunshine smile at me and everything was better.<br />
<br />
He explained that I should inject myself with the Vials in my Ass and take the pills about 8 times a day. I started to protest but he said he'd show me first, so I didn't make any mistakes. I was still going to argue but he lightly touched the band of my Grey sweats and my body went into autopilot. I stood motionless breathing heavily and roughly with stunned anticipation as he pulled my jogging pants to my knees. He smiled gently and turned me around. I was stock still as a statue. He slowly grazed he fingers against the waistband of my boxer's and I let out a little gasp of girlish delighted fright as he sunk them also down to my knees. I was completely exposed before this mammoth gorilla of masculinity with my bare pal ass and cock on display in the empty lockeroom. He florescent lights of the room made me feel like I was in an operating room or something. I held my breath in drastic anticipation and then I was rewarded with the most erotic feeling of my life when I felt his big callused man hand brush against the soft skin of my 23 year old ass. He held one cheek in his huge paw and I almost quivered into jelly at the touch. I was so wrapped up in the warmth of that one massive hand on my butt cheek that I didn't even feel the needle sink into my flesh.<br />
<br />
He wiped the needle and smiled at me. Told me I was a good boy and that I should never forget my medicine. Wow it was so weird this guy talked to me like I was a fucking idiot child but I let him. I was actually glad when he patted me on the head for being a good boy. I was glad to be his good boy. What the fucking was happening to me?<br />
<br />
He gave me that parental smile and told me to clean myself up and get back to work. He left and I watched as his huge glutes bounded back and forth down the hall. His ass lurching up and down powerfully under his gym shorts as he walked away with the confidant bodybuilder Gate.<br />
<br />
I looked down at my exposed crotch and noticed what he was talking about. Sometimes during the injection I must have cum all over myself. My cock was dripping with cum. It ran down my leg like a runny faucet and I felt my cheeks blush with embarrassment. Oh god how humiliating I thought. And again I almost wanted to cry. Holy shit that was like twice in one god damn day. I never fucking cry! I felt like a god damn high-strung woman! I wanted to get mad and hit something for behaving this way but instead I quickly pulled up my sweats with shame and frustration, almost holding the tears back.<br />
<br />
I grabbed me medicine and left the Gym. I was ashamed at my behavior that I didn't even read the medial labels on the bottles he had given me. I knew they were prescription and all my experience as a med student told me that You should never take Prescription drugs unless you know what they are and you certainly didn't fucking inject yourself with anything but that didn't seem to matter. Steve had given them to me. I trusted Steve. I wanted Steve to be proud of me. He was just trying to make me feel better. I mean I did look sick didn't I?<br />
<br />
I took my medicine home that day and never missed an injection or a pill after that. I mean it was my medicine and all good boys take their medicine right? Ch3<br />
<br />
I think all my professors eventually got tired of me skipping class to go to the gym with Steve because most of them told me not to come back to class...that I had failed the semester but whatever. I'll just take summer semester. I mean fuck them I have the money. So I wasn't going to class at all. I was just working out with Steve a lot. And it still seemed like a few minutes but our workouts were hours long. I was getting really into for some reason too. I mean I was buying major amounts of protein, The chemically engineered shit, watching my diet and constantly trying to increase my protein intake. Which is weird cause I really didn't care about it. My workouts genuinely left me so beat that all I wanted to do when I got home was sleep so I'd be rested for tomorrow's workout.<br />
<br />
One day we were getting ready in the locker room together and a bunch of my papers from school spilled out of my bag. Steve helped me pick them up and I was amazed at how many angry red D's and F's there were all over them.<br />
<br />
He laughed a little noticing my terrible grades and said that I wouldn't be haning those on the frigerator any time soon. I got real mad, but instead of being angry all I could do was get all flushed and ashamed.I got more upset and began stuffing them into my bag while making stuttering excuses and blinking the hot tears of shame from my eyes. Why was I crying? Every time something bad happened lately all I could do was act like a big crybaby...<br />
<br />
Steve comforted me and told me it was alright. He said he didn't care If I wasn't that smart. I told him that I was very smart with a sniff. He gave me that sweet I know better then you look and told me that that wasn't what all those grades said. He asked me if a smart boy would get all those bad grades. I sniffed harder almost hyperventilating and shook my head no.<br />
<br />
He said well that wasn't so bad was it?<br />
<br />
I nodded but as he wiped one of the tears from my eyes I added a pouty sullen but I am smart though...<br />
<br />
Steve smiled and said sure you are just do me a favor and look in the mirror for a sec...<br />
<br />
I did and saw my red face all sad and upset. You see the reason your upset is because you're afraid of epople thinking your dumb. There's nothing wrong with being dumb just as long as you know your smart...right? He said to me.<br />
<br />
I considered it and agreed. It made sense I guess. He told me I had to stop being afraid of being stupid.<br />
<br />
Look in the mirror and say I'm stupid.<br />
<br />
I was confused and said that I didn't want to.<br />
<br />
He looked stern for a second and said, just do it.<br />
<br />
I whispered at myself, "I'm stupid,"<br />
<br />
Louder, he said<br />
<br />
I said in a normal voice I'm stupid.<br />
<br />
He smiled happily, now try it in a deeper voice.<br />
<br />
I adjusted my voice a tone down, "I'm stupid."<br />
<br />
Deeper he ordered and I grunted out "I'm stupid" in a heavy thick bass that made my throat feel thick.<br />
<br />
He smiled happily. You see that didn't hurt at all did it?<br />
<br />
I saw his point it didn't at all! I began laughing and chuckling at the mirror and repeating I'm stupid like a big child.<br />
<br />
Steve watched my amused and then said aight kid let's go work out.<br />
<br />
I told him okay and noticed that I was now talking comfortabley in that heavy thick bass...and for the life of me I just couldn't make myself stop...<br />
<br />
It was after that that I stopped going to class altogether. I could barely understand what they were saying and all my buddies were acting real weird about how I waould read things aloud and ask so many stupid questions, I tried to tell them I couldn't help it because I was so stupid but they didn't understand...<br />
<br />
That' about the time Steve told me it was probably time to get some new work out Gear. I had come in one morning looking around for him anxiously, not feeling comfortable in the gym alone.<br />
<br />
He came up behind me and saw me shifting uncomforabtel in his absence. He asked why I looked so uncomfortable and I explained that I didn't like being around all these "guys" without him. He laughed and said that that was probably because i sIuck out like a soar thumb.<br />
<br />
I asked him what he meant.<br />
<br />
We looked around and I noticed that all the guys were working out in tight clothes that showed off their muscles bu I was wearing layers of Sweats.<br />
<br />
He told me that my old stuff was kind of getting ratty and that it made me look like I didn't belong at the gym. He gave me a long steady look and said You want to look like you fit in don't you. I nodded a knee jerk yes and he smiled.<br />
<br />
He said he knew I would. So he sent me to this store with a list to give the cashier. He told me to come back after I had my new gear.<br />
<br />
When I got to the fitness store. I shyly handed the clerk my list and The guy smiled and got me a bunch of really small speedo looking stuff. There was a big pile at the register when he was done. Most of the stuff looked like the stretchy tight singlets that the bodybuilders on ESPN were always wearing. Didn't I used to not like that for sdome reason? I think I didn't but I dind't pay any attention to it. I just went home and put it on and went to the gym. I noticed I was reall cold though. It flt like I was totally freezing and exposed. He told me I just looked like I took my body seirieosuly.<br />
<br />
You want to take your body sierieously don't you?<br />
<br />
I said yes.<br />
<br />
Your body is the most important thing to you right now, isn't it?<br />
<br />
I thought about it, and without school that was probably true...<br />
<br />
I nodded and said in my deep bovine voice, "My Body is the most important thing to me."<br />
<br />
He smiled, now look at yourself doing these next reps ...buddy...did he say buddy or baby?...<br />
<br />
I watched as my body moved unerneath the clinging nylon singlet that I wore. The tight matirial hugged my thighs and made them seem huge and exposed the exaggerated lycra covered bulge at my tight little waist and made the V of my huge torso and back seem impossibly bigger and more defined. But the worst was the way it made my tits spill out the front. My big pec's...were my pec's that big... They were barely covered by the bottom of the singlets top and it made me uncomfortable the way the thin straps crossed over my barely exposed nipple...<br />
<br />
"I look like I have tits..." I complained.<br />
<br />
Steve laughed.<br />
<br />
He laughed and agreeed, yeah he said with those massive huge pecs, your wide ass and those fucking huge thighs covered in all that lycra I can see where u'd say that... but no one is going to mistake a muscle beast like you for any cheap pussy he laughed<br />
<br />
I got confused for a sec But steve smiled and said he really like the new gear and I was glad I made him happy. Chp 4<br />
<br />
It was a couple weeks after that that Amanda broke up with me and moved out. It all seemed to happen so fast that I barely noticed it. It was weird in the two years we had been dating after all the affairs I had had all the rotten things I had done to her for her to just suddenly leave was unthinkable. She was mine man! I mean I fucking owned her and here she was telling me she was leaving. I tried to stop her, to convince her to stay but for some reason my heart just wasn't in it. I knew that I was terribly upset and din't want her to go at all but for some reason I couldn't really make myself care.<br />
<br />
I asked her why she was leaving me and she said it was because I had changed so much. She said I had become so simple I could barely hold a conversation with her. I told her she was crazy. She told me that even if my teachers hadn't flunked me for attendance that there was no way I would have survived the semester because I had somehow regressed to the mentality of god damn six year old.<br />
<br />
I told her she was mean. She laughed. She said that all the drugs must be affecting my mind. I was confused what drugs I asked? What drugs, she said..."what drugs? For Christ sake Jon just look at yourself, it's so fucking obvious, don't even try to pretend.<br />
<br />
After she had slammed out I went to the nearest mirror and investigated my reflection. Blonde and slim as ever...what the hell was she talking about I mean I looked exactly the same. The phone rang and when I looked towards a flicker of movement from the mirror caught my eye. It seemed for a split second that the image of me kinda of wavered and what I saw was someone else. No it looked like me only...bigger MUCH bigger. The guy looked like a beefy lifeguard from bay watch or something with his big traps and well rounded shoulders. That guy looked like a gymnast...not like me... I've always had that baseball player build.<br />
<br />
I told Steve about Amanda leaving and he said it was probably for the best because I never knew how to treat women anyway. And I knew he was right all I ever did was cheat on them and yell at them. Then he laughed and massaged my crotch through the black spandex of my shorts. I threw my headback and rolled my shoulders in giddy pleasure completely oblivious to the obscenity and ridiculousness of his inappropriate touch. "It's not like you could get hard for her anymore anyway." I felt my rod go stiff in his hand and I laughed a loud dumb bark. He laughed too a hardy chuckle as he continued his stroking. I kept laughing the same dumb horse giggle as he jerked me off through my tiny little gym shorts. Unable to care or realize what was happening.<br />
<br />
He told me I was such a good boy as he rubbed my happy cock. He laughed an amused laugh and said, "do you know what I'd like to see right now boy?"<br />
<br />
I asked an excited happy what underneath his further ministrations... I'd like to see your ridiculously huge body do some jumping jacks, so I can see your big dumb dog cock flop against that hard belly like an animal.<br />
<br />
I tried to argue but I laughed that dumb laugh and started doing jumping jacks.<br />
<br />
My body flew into motion. All the wieght hefting around me like muscle jello as my big tree trunk legs threw me into the air. My pec's flopped up and down like huge bags of grain and he was righ my dick did flop around making me look silly.<br />
<br />
Steve unbottoned his Jeans and began to stroke his own huge cock. I was enthralled by the sight of it and couldn't take my eyes off of it as I jumped and he stroked. He watched my body glisten and vibrate as I jumped up and down over and over again forcing the exagerated muscles to quiver.<br />
<br />
"now," he said hot and intent.<br />
<br />
"tell me how stupid you are."<br />
<br />
I am so stupid. I responded without a moments hesitation.<br />
<br />
I am so stupid.<br />
<br />
Up and down muscles bouncing<br />
<br />
I am so stupid.<br />
<br />
Cock flopping, balls jiggling.<br />
<br />
I am so stupid.<br />
<br />
Now do it in Spanish. He said, leeking precum and bucking his hips.<br />
<br />
Me mucho estupido<br />
<br />
Me mucho estupido<br />
<br />
Me mucho Estupido<br />
<br />
I don't remember much after that just being on my knees and a salty taste in my mouth later...<br />
<br />
Steve's advice to me was that I should get rid of all the things I owned that reminded me of Amanda. So that night I went home and began systematically throwing away everything I owned. I didn't mean to it was just everything reminded me of Amanda from the sheets and the furniture to my socks and shoes. The only things that really didn't make me think of Amanda were the things that made me think of Steve like my work out gear, my medicine and my protein.<br />
<br />
After about to weeks I was sleeping on a mattress in an empty apartment with only workout clothes to wear. Which didn't even seem to bother me at all I thought everything was perfectly fine.<br />
<br />
Until one night I had this horrible nightmare. In it Steve and this big bodybuilder were in a truck. They were sitting in the darkened cab, as Steve whispered instructions to the bodybuilder in that soothing tone of his and placed a leather studded collar around the guy's big neck. I could tell the guy was a bodybuilder because he had one of those obscenely huge muscled bodies that just stretched all his clothes and bulged every time he moved. He was wearing some kind of military costume. A green tank top and camouflage pants that made him look like some cartoon GI JOE wanna be. Only the way he walked in his heeled black boots made him seem more like some gay prostitute on a theme trick.<br />
<br />
The Guy looked like such a jar-head no though all agression and muscle. The type of guy I'd see at bars and laugh at because he looked like such an OX.<br />
<br />
They got out of the truck and went into this big house. There were all these guys there and the big dumb bodybuilder just went to the center of the room and started slurping dick like a circus seal. The guy was an animal all slobbering drool and cum down the cleft of his puffy chest. And then suddenly I could feel the cum and the drool on my self. I could feel the sensation of hot cock between my lips as sucked and teased some strangers cock head. I felt my throat open up to deep throat down to the base like a professional whore. I licked balls, kissed thighs and took dick like a happy little pro... it seemed like hours later when I woke up screaming. I grabbed a protein shake and tried to get back to sleep not even noticing the camouflage pants and large boots now added to closet wardrobe.<br />
<br />
I told Steve about it and he told me he was worried about me. He said I was probably too unstable after the whole Break up with Stacey to take care of myself. I tried to disagree but he seemed so right. He told me I even looked sick. It asked him to help me. I practically begged him. He told me the first thing we had to do was get rid of all the stress in my life as quickly as possible. He told me my finances must be really dragging me down. And I immediately agreed. So he agreed to take care of all my bills and stuff until I felt better. I was so grateful!<br />
<br />
The next day we went right down to the bank and I signed a bunch of stuff I didn't understand but Steve did. He said it was just so he could take care of things for me. I thanked him over and over again. I'm so glad I had a trustworthy man like Steve in my life to take care of me!<br />
<br />
He even gave me this special skin moisturizer that was supposed to help me relax. It was kinda of weird and made my skin tingle and itch but I put it on everyday cause Steve said to. Chp5<br />
<br />
I think it was six months or so after I had first had that drink with Steve at the bar when he told me that I looked so sick I would probably need surgery. We were at the gym, working out as usual, because that's where I spend all my time now that I'm not in school. Most of my old friends are rely wigged out by the fact that I don't give a damn about graduating anymore so I'd rather spend all my time with Steve.<br />
<br />
He looked at me and told me that I was probably going to need to have an operation so that I could feel better. I told him I felt fine and he asked me who would know better with his loving smile and I said him. I was so scared I started to cry. He knew I was just a scared little boy sometimes so he put one of his big arms around me to make me feel better. Which was weird cause it made me hard as a rock to have his bare skin against mine. I must have looked really stupid sitting their balling my eyes out until I was red in the face with my cock forcing the spandex of my shorts to bulge insanely.<br />
<br />
He told me everything would be fine and that I could recuperate at his house afterward. I asked him what recuperate meant. He laughed really hard and said that I could live with him. I was so happy I forgot all about the surgery. The next day I moved all my stuff, which after all my house cleaning was basically my workout clothes into a room right next to his. It was completely walled with mirrors, that had a nice big bed in the center. I loved it but it did make me feel a little bad. I mean here I was this scrawny college kid with all these mirrors reflecting back my athletic but not-to built body. I mean Steve deserved to live with a guy as big as him, didn't he? I guess Steve was just a nice guy that way huh?<br />
<br />
The next day Steve took me to the hospital and signed me in. He stayed with me the entire time and eve held my hand when until the Anastiesia kicked in. It was until he was watching my eyes flutter closed with that adorning proud grin that I realized I had never asked what exactly they were going to do...I mean Christ I used to study doctor stuff right? I mean I should know what they were going do ...<br />
<br />
I don't really remember much about the hospital or coming home. Only that it seemed to last forever and I was in an intense amount of pain all the time. It seemed like my whole body hurt. They couldn't have done surgery on my whole body could they?<br />
<br />
I spent a lot of days just lying in my bed at Steve's house sleeping or having him feed me and change the dressings on my body. He took care of me with such a gentle touch it was like he was caring for a child. I love Steve so much.<br />
<br />
I can still remember the morning that Jonathan started to disappear and I started seeing Julio. I woke up and I think all the pain killers had leaked out of my system beaus I sat up without any pain. I was so happy. I just wanted to get up and take of the bandages that encased my body...but when I reached down to I realized that someone must have done it while I slept....but who...oh yeah I remembered I was staying with Steve and he was taking care of me after my surgery...But why did I have surgery? And why the fuck was I staying with this guy that I just met? I just wanted to get up throw on my clothes and try and find Amanda. I felt so confused. I needed to talk to someone I could trust. But I trusted Steve didn't I? I was so confused.<br />
<br />
I got up with effort and my body felt so fucking heavy. It must have been from the drugs they must have made my legs and arms heavy with numbness. I lumbered over to a nearby low built Asian style bureau and opened it only to find faggy spandex work out gear. And not your every day run of the mill fag gear, these were bright blue Singlets and red unitards. How the fuck was I supposed to wear this shit? Where were my jeans and my t-shirts? And from the look of it I wouldn't even be able to fit into this lycra gym queen shit. It was way to big it looked like it was meant for a man twice or three times my size...I slammed the drawer shut and looked up into one of the mirrored walls of the room.<br />
<br />
Which is when I started screaming.<br />
<br />
There was someone else in the room with me! a big hulking gorilla. He was fucking completely naked and staring right at me! How the fuck did this Spic bodybuilder end up in my room naked as a fucking savage? And the guy was freaky ass huge too! His body was immenxe and moved with the cumbersome weight of a heavy animal. Then It dawned on me....when he moved I moved. A scarey realization dawned on me and for the first time I realized what had happened. It started as an inkling and then grew into terrible truth.<br />
<br />
"oh my god" I said but it wasn't my voice...it was thicker and heavier sounding more like the guterral pur of some barbarian then my snappish east coast rhythm.<br />
<br />
"awake sleeping beauty?" I turnedand saw Steve at the door of my room looking at me happily.<br />
<br />
I moved toward him and for the first time I felt myself move. I was huge and I could feel it. My body felt so foreign to me. Like I had awaken treapped in someone elses form. Thew muscle weighed me down and forced my hips to roll across each other like great slabs of meat and flesh. My arms swung angularaly at my sides because my lats forced them to with their sheer expanse. My chest jutted out making me seem perpetually puffed up. I was a muscle beast! And I could feel it! it was too much for me.<br />
<br />
I collapsed to the floor with a ridiculous thud and began to sob, the huge meat hunks of my shoulders bouncing up and down comically. I asked him how he did this and he began to tell me quite calmly as he watched my gargantuan pecs bob up and down with my exaggerated breathing. First he said he had the doctor's do some eye work on me that tilted my eye and made my lids heavier that he said was the most important part other than the skin of course. All Latin men have gorgeous eyes that are almost Asian almost African. He then had them give me cheek implants to make give me the high-cheeked sensuality of a Latin man, which he said happily went great with my already strong Irish jaw.<br />
<br />
Then they shot my poor lips up with enough collagen to make a super model blush. This gave me the exaggerated sexy ethnic pout that Steve said he was so crazy about.<br />
<br />
They even broke my nose and reshaped it to give the flat nostrils inherent to the Spanish races features...<br />
<br />
I cried even harder looking at the vascular lines of honey colored skin dissecting my football sized biceps like a highway system. How'd you make me change color! I demanded.<br />
<br />
He laughed arch deep full bellied laugh. Oh I've been doing that for months! That moisturizer he gave me he said was a special chemical blend that slowly tinted my skin...that combined with all the obsessive tanning I had been doing gave me the perfect Rudy red caramel complexion that any Hispanic boy would sport.<br />
<br />
I told him I couldn't believe all that he done. And he said that that wasn't it and smiled his benign smile. He told me to stand and I immediately complied in a knee jerk childlike way that pissed me off. I lurched the disgusting mass of my body up and he told me to turn around. I did, exposing the wide expanse of my wing like back to the mirror. You know that pesky love handle flesh that you just couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how much we worked out those granite abs of yours? He said. And then I vaguely remembered snippets of our foggy intense workout sessions where he would fret over the side flesh of my abdomen irritated at it's persistence to never go away. Well, he said, I had them remove it. I nodded dully. But he continued. They removed it then moved it, he laughed. I looked over at him confusedly and he pointed at my ass. You had a great ass after all those lunges heavy weight lunges and extremely heavy squats but it wasn't quite the big ghetto booty that a man of your ethnicity deserved, so I had them take all that fat and put it on your ass. He laughed and it was half amused half horned. I looked down at my big butt and saw what he meant. On top of rock hard muscle of my glutes was a thick layer of mocha flesh that was round pliant and jumped from my backside like a woman's would...only firmer. It didn't jiggle so much as it swayed when I walked.<br />
<br />
I looked at myself in the many mirrors of my room and only saw a Hispanic bodybuilder not myself. I fell to the floor on my huge tear shaped quads and bent as far over as my massive cumbersome lats would allow me and began to sob.<br />
<br />
"aww Johnny what's wrong?" Steve asked in his comforting way.<br />
<br />
"I look like a fucking spic muscle fag," I said accusingly.<br />
<br />
He laughed and said I didn't look like one I was one!<br />
<br />
All I could do was cry and ask how and why over and over, rocking back and forth and feeling the heavy muscle of my pendulous swarthy pec's contract beneath me.<br />
<br />
He laughed again his amused chuckle. Think back he said, to that first night.<br />
<br />
He told me that he knew I was the kind of cocky kid that deserved to be given a lesson I'd one day forget. He said with a laugh. He patted my hair and brushed my black spiky bangs, "I know your confused" he said laughing..."you always are now...but you see kiddo that first night I gave you a post hypnotic suggestion, that you'd want to call me and get to know me as soon as I left you my card, I also made it so you couldn't read the whole card...I'd let you look at it again now...but you can't read English anymore" He started laughing again and then explained further. "you see the card says Steve Conner's Personal trainer and Hypno-therapist. I hypnotized you with a few simple tricks that first night. The reflection of my watch...the tone of my voice...the expensive and strong drugs I had put in your drink ..."he gave me a crooked smile, "didn't know I did that did ya? I was just going to give you a one night deep dicking to teach your spoiled college ass a lesson but then I saw that see with the girl and the bouncer and knew you deserved much more. Ya see I've always wanted a houseboy but I'm very picky. I wouldn't want just any guy. I wanted a specific kind of man to be my companion, maid and sex slave...and the only way to get that was to make one. And I decided right then and there that you were just the waste of genetic material waiting for me to reshape it body and mind. Nobody was going to miss your arrogant, malignant, selfish ass but you."<br />
<br />
He kneeled down behind me and held my massive shoulders in a loving embrace almost like he was cuddling a baby. "It was a simple after that, I started working out with you and every day and re-hypnotized you and made you forget about it. I gave you all kinds of suggestions over the passed months. First I made you get gradually dumber and more dependant on me. That was fun to watch I watched that look of cool condescension and pride become one of dim witted confusion and uncertainty. Then I made you ignore the affects of the steroids on your body...in fact I made you ignore that fact that you were taking massive amounts of steroids at all." He began ticking things off like he was going down a list, "made you quit school, throw away your things break up with your girlfriend, start dressing like a slutty gym bunny....hmm oh and I made you sign you money over to me..." He massaged my wide shoulders and the manipulation of my flesh by his big strong man hands made me instantly hard. As he explained my destruction and reconstruction into his wet dream I began to absently jerk off.<br />
<br />
"that's another thing" he said, "I made you gay," he laughed watching my hammy red fist bob up and down on my now dark cock, "VERY Gay." Then he put his hand over mine and increased the friction and speed on my cock and he bit my ear seductively, "and I don't want to worry you but you're a little bit of a slut too." I felt his own cock get rigid and thick behind me and I arched my big ghetto booty ass into his crotch instinctively.<br />
<br />
"that's a good boy now get on all fours so I can finally get what I've been waiting for." I paused for a second trying to make sense of the situation.<br />
<br />
He was pulling down his jeans as I leaned forward and presented my big ass doggy style, "that's a good boy you knew you were going to do it anyway."<br />
<br />
I felt his big cock head at the entrance to my newly remodeled virgin hole. He gave my thick chest a quick heave and then thrust his entire length into me making me squeal out in pain. It was only after that I realized I was crying out in exsctasy but I was screaming "adios Mio" and "Aye Carumba!" in fact everything I had been saying was Spanish... Chp 6<br />
<br />
To look at me now you'd never know that I used to be Jonathon Shamrock Med Student living of his parent's generous trust fund. Jonathon was 6'2 with blue eyes and dark hair. Jonathan had the tight collegiate build of an Abercrombie and fitch model, with the all American good looks to go with it. Jonathan wore only designer khaki's and polo's. Jonathan was witty and urbane and knew how to manipulate every situation to get what he wanted.<br />
<br />
All you'd see now Is some Latin Steroid abusing Bodybuilder who dressed like a santa monica Blvd street hustler and spoke such broken sexually explicit English you'd think he was born for Porn.<br />
<br />
The only clothes I wear over my huge ridiculously tan and round muscles are either lycra or so tight that they're made for girls. I can't help it. It's the only clothes I seem to even want to wear. I try and go in the store with the little money that master let's me keep from my gigs stripping, and buy something normal...something I used to be able to wear. But every time I end up wandering over to the young Miss section and squeezing my muscle bound Latino ass into a pair of short short's meant for a fourteen year old girl and a tank top that says boys lie that stretches obscenely across the my disgustingly mammoth tits, that exposes my belly button. Which is extra gross because Master took me down to a shop off of sunset and had it pierced with a little blue stone. The store girls always laugh and they should because the damn shorts never cover the girth of my roid pumped glutes and leave the big muscled ass fleck of my butt exposed so everyone can watch the caramel skin flex up and down like a horses hunched when I walk. And even though I want to get mad all I can do is smile sweetly and pay for my tramp clothes. Which always leads to trouble because my counting isn't very good and I don't understand American money very well. I should just stop going out without Master Steve. He always takes care of me and I'm just too estupidio to be out alone. That's another thing Steve did...since I already knew Spanish he said it was easy to make me forget every language I knew but that. I still know a little English, just enough to get by, but the words I know are inappropriate and they make me look like such a dumb fag. I can't call my chest a chest or even pec's, the only word I can manage is tits... I can't refer to myself as Steve's boyfriend, friend or even roommate...all I can say is House boy and fuck toy. He even went to all the trouble of making me watch Spanish soap opera's so that I'd have the perfect, Thick barely intelligible Spanish accent. I talk with such a thick romantic lilt that I can barely understand myself. Steve loves it. In fact Steve loves everything about me now...he can't keep his hands off of me. We make love three or four times a day...and I don't mind it that much anymore... I love his green eyes and smile and the way he holds me like his little Spanish fly...that's what he calls me sometimes when he's holding me after fucking me raw. I like the fuck to. I like feeling the hard rigid cock filling me or bending and slurping at his rod like a hungry beast. I've started to like the way that my body feels like a wild machine built for fucking. I like Steve's hard body on mine. Are big immense forms riding together as he takes me over and over again. Every time I work out all I can think about is getting bigger so the sex will be better...that's all I really think about now...Steve, my muscles and sex... cock, ass how I can get I, how I can give it...<br />
<br />
But that's basically the story up to now...except for the other day he told me to look at his watch again and try to read the writing on it. I did, and I really concentrated and finally I suddenly looked up and said "livin la Vida Loca?!" he smiled and laughed. I don't think that's what it really says but he tried to make me feel better by telling me it did. That's when he told me to write all this down. I have to go though he wants to talk to me....He says he wants me to sit on his cock one last time and tell him how stupid I am for old time's sake...I don't know what that means... Chp 7<br />
<br />
Steve told me to write Some stuff down today- I don't know why. He knows my English is bad and I'm not real good with words. But he knows best and I never argue with him. He just told me that I should write about my life.<br />
<br />
Its not that complicated. My name is Julio Santos and I'm a bodybuilder from Puerto-rico. I came to America seven months ago and I live as the houseboy of my friend and Master, Steven. He helps me with my bodybuilding, gives me a place to live and I'm his personal fuck toy and live in servant. I do the laundry and cook when I'm not working out or bent over the nearest surface. It's perfect.<br />
<br />
I'm the most gorgeous piece of Hispanic bull meat on the West Coast, or that's at least what Steve and all his friends tell me constantly. I love it when they do that, it get'' my cock hard and makes my boy pussy hungry as shit. I'' 248 lbs. of rock hard solid muscle. And all the mass looks huge on my 6'2 frame. I stand out in every crowd, half because I look like a caricature of every muscle head in all those Health magazines, but also cause I barely dress. I can't help it. I just hate to hide my awesome bod. I mean how are other guys supposed to want to fuck me if they can't see it all? And that's what all this muscle is for isn't it? I'm not stupid. Well I am but not that way. I'm this big and ripped because I want every guy who walks by to look and think..."damn that one freaky huge Latin Muscle beast...god I just wanna shove my cock up that big ass or tit fuck those big pec's." That's why I dress in the skimpiest shit possible, tit clinging shirts that show off my dark nipples and short shorts that leave nothing about my round ass globes to the imagination. Steve likes it best when I'm naked at home so he can constantly admire the shaven and glistening perfection of my body temple. I don't even mind that I'm always naked and he wears clothes. I used to wear a thong....but that's like wearing work clothes on your day off. I like to clean and lounge by the pool completely buff and nude. Steve says I like being that way cause I'm just a savage island boy at heart. I bet he's right.<br />
<br />
I spend most of my days liftin down at Venice Beach with all the other big ass steroid boys. Most of them are real nice to me even though they say I dress like a dumb slut. What's so wrong with bein a dumb slut?<br />
<br />
Steve says they're nice to me because I'm Hispanic. He says they don't want to seem like racists. It's not like I can talk to them a lot anyway, most of them don't know Spanish. And since my English hasn't gotten much better since I came here it's hard to talk about anything except my body or sex. And they seem to get half offended and half turned on when I call my chest tits or something...but it's not my fault I just don't know how to say it any other way in English. It's hard not speaking English, but Steve is trying to teach me. It's just taking real long cause I'm so dumb. But how can I help it. all I know about it is getting huge and sucking cock.<br />
<br />
I work a couple of odd jobs on the side so that I can have some spending money, since I left Puerto-rico with nothing. Some mornings I work down town at a Latin grocer. It's just nice to make a few extra bucks unloading trucks and being with my own people. They understand me and my accent doesn't bother them at all where as all the other people here can'' seem to understand a word I say.<br />
<br />
At nights I work the best job in the world. I strip. I love stripping. Just not for women. I work at a club where it's all men all the time. Just my huge body sweating and grinding to the music. It's crazy to see me dance. All this muscle in motion. But I can get straddle a pole with the best little cut dancer boy. This big ass thunder thighs might be as big as most of the other stripper's waists but I still rake in the cash. It's just me with a room full of men with their eyes and their aching hard cocks locked on my sultry red mocha skin.<br />
<br />
Steve says they all want me because I'm a big muscle heffer. A big meaty bovine piece of masculine man flesh. And I can let them look at all my massive beef as much as I want and dance but they can't have me because I'm Steve's boy.<br />
<br />
I've thought about hustling a couple of times, but I know Steve wouldn't approve. I just feel so bad, since he buys all the massive amounts of Protein and Illegal Juice to keep me as he calls it "his own private tropical muscle mountain." I just love it when he talks about my muscles. Then again I'd never want to make a guy pay for sex...it'd take all the fun out of it. Like the other day I was pissing in the bathroom of this restaurant when this waiter came in to use the stall next to me. he was a real handsome college type with nice average tone...nothing like me or Steve but enough man meat to make me flex. So I turned to the mirror and started crunching my Biceps together making them erupt like volcanoes. I love it when other guys watch me pose. He looked a little startled but the way his cock raged against his khakis I knew he wanted a piece. So without even talking I threw the bolt on the bathroom door slid down my daisy dukes and presented my thong covered ass. He fucked me real good. He knew what was up. We never even spoke. I like those best. It's hard when you have to talk to the cock...I mean guy, especially when your English is as bad as mine is. I just like to smile flex and show them my ass. They usually get the point.<br />
<br />
Everyone in awhile Steve's Gym buddies and Circuit friend come over for a wild night of fucking. I love that a lot. I spend 8 hours getting fucked like an animal and sucking cock like my life depended on it. It's weird though don't think they can pronounce me name. They always start calling me Jonathon and laughing as they ream my hole or slap my big sensual lips with their oozing dicks. It makes my cock and muscles so fucking happy!<br />
<br />
But what I like best about my days are when I cuddle up in Steve's bed with him, and he tenderly takes me like the first night I left my old life....my old life in puerto-rico.<br />
<br />
And that's my life. I'm just a body-building, cum addicted Hispanic muscle boy livin La Vida loca!<br />
<br />
</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-23379334375356862442011-01-20T13:48:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:48:37.994-08:009.) HEXFILES: Ripped Lee's Believe it or NOT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">1. STRANGERS ON A PLANE<br />
<br />
This is a Story about belief, or more appropriately, the power of Belief. To believe something is to give it credence. In essence: to give it shape, form and… inevitably Power.<br />
<br />
Some beliefs can free the mind, opening it wide to endless possibilities, while others can build a rigid cage that can ensnare an unsuspecting psyche. It is these close-minded beliefs that become the bars and jailers of a young impressionable intellect. <br />
<br />
If you believe something is true… It is. <br />
<br />
At least for you… and are we not the authors of our own reality? Be careful of what you believe… <br />
<br />
Currently, Damian Vaughn believed, with utmost certainty, that his Tea was too damn hot. It was an exotic blend that he had picked up on his last trip through Southeast Asia. It tasted exactly like Starbucks Chia Tea, but still it was foreign and had an interesting back-story. So, it was inevitably better. <br />
<br />
It seemed to him everything was Foreign lately. He never really knew where he was anymore, except when the customs agents began to swear at him.<br />
<br />
He was curled into a large awkward ball of hooded black sweats, staring out of a tiny airplane window. The Tea in his thermos fogged the windows as he watched yet another exotic locale fade into the distance. This locale was San Pedro Sula, One of the more modern cities in the Central American country of Hundorous. Modern, in that there was one airport and the armed guards politely motioned with their semi-automatic weapons as opposed to using them. <br />
<br />
Another fruitless trip.<br />
<br />
He sighed.<br />
<br />
Well not exactly fruitless, he had eaten his weight in mango and Plantains. But still he had not found what he was looking for. <br />
<br />
He had gone all the way to the Nicaraguan border. He had climbed high into the mountain villages in search of his quarry. Well not so much climbed as hired someone with a rather formidable SUV. Deep in the thick jungles that doted the flat crests of the indigenous mountains, Damien had sought help from an elderly Bruja who was reputed to be able to heal ANY thing. <br />
<br />
After two day’s travel through an oxymoron, (a rain forest where it NEVER rained. The jungles were so high into the atmosphere that they didn’t require any tangible precipitation, they were literally in the clouds.) Damien had arrived at what his guide called “her Heathen retreat”. After coaxing the poor little woman out of the nearest tree he had found her to be anything but heathen. Damien suspected that, this label was given to her by condescending people who simply wore more clothes then she did. <br />
<br />
The poor little thing took one look at him, said a charm for protection and directly ferreted up the nearest vine. It was quite a thing to see an 80-year-old peasant woman scale 50 feet in nothing but a sarong. <br />
<br />
The mystically inclined often reacted to Damien that way. It was like opening your door to find a Unicorn …or the Gestapo. <br />
<br />
Even after he had made quick friends with her, she was unable to give him the aid he sought. She gave him a Quetzal’s feather and wished him luck, with a sad withered smile that made him decidedly uneasy.<br />
<br />
Ahhh well back to the drawing board…<br />
<br />
At least he had a warm cup of tea and the silence of his thoughts…<br />
<br />
“FUCK NO DUDE YOU GOTTA TRY IT!!! NO DUDE! THE DIVING DOWN HERE IS SICK!!!” The young man next to him barked into his Cell Phone. <br />
<br />
His name Was Lee Rizen. He was just getting back from a long fall break Deep sea Diving off the northern keys. <br />
<br />
“NO DUDE, I’D LOVE TOO BUT I’M MEETING UP WITH MY BUDDY FROM HIGHSCHOOL THE SECOND I GET BACK!!!”<br />
<br />
Damien groaned and tried to retreat further into the baggy folds of his dark hood.<br />
<br />
“YEAH MAN! HE WORKS AT THIS STRIP CLUB AND HE’s GONNA HOOK ME UP WITH THIS BIG TITTIED BLONDE!” The eager youth yelled.<br />
<br />
“OF COURSE BRO! YOU KNOW HOW BLONDES ARE MAN! THEY CAN’T HELP BUT SUCK COCK, AND STRIPPERS MAN ! THEY CRAVE THE SKIN BEAST!!! YOU KNOW THAT’S TRUE!!!”<br />
<br />
Damien inwardly groaned.<br />
<br />
“NO MAN I’LL HOLA AT YA AFTA I GET BACK! PEACE MAN!” Lee hung up the phone and put it into his pocket.<br />
<br />
Damien looked at him for a moment and then ventured a statement. “You should be more careful of what you say.”<br />
<br />
Lee turned to the stranger startled. “What?”<br />
<br />
The man in black turned to him and fixed him with a blue-eyed stare, “It is ill advised to believe such vulgar things, much less announce them.”<br />
<br />
“Yo man… sorry.” Lee said dismissively, swiveling to find an empty seat far away from his nosey neighbor.<br />
<br />
Damien plowed on, his moral indignation a powerful engine driving him forward. “Strippers… Blondes… I doubt highly these are indicative of sexual deviance … no matter what your immature ideas would have you believe.”<br />
<br />
Lee was now pissed. This dude had no right to listen in on HIS phone call. This dude had no right to tell him what to believe. “Look Mr. you don’t even know me.” He spat.<br />
<br />
Damien considered the statement, “You know I once thought that all people were different, but the older I get, I realize that that is a fallacy.” He plucked irritably at his sleeve.<br />
<br />
“I really do think that somewhere in the universe is a poly-morphic field devoted solely to the replication and production of hormone driven quasi-adolescences with testosterone dependant purposes.”<br />
<br />
“Huh?”<br />
<br />
Damien sized the young man up with a neglectful glare, “Well, from the way you are dressed head to toe in the colors and paraphernalia of your indistinct little college, I’d venture to say you’re on some sort of sports scholarship.”<br />
<br />
Lee considered his tight T-shirt emblazoned with Wrainright College, and his loose soccer shorts, “yeah…”<br />
<br />
“Judging from your lithe shape and thick legs…and lack of any text book…I’d say Soccer?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah…and proud of it.”<br />
<br />
“And that’s basically all you really are deep down… just another preppy, little, broad generalization, defined by your attitude and attire. So I do know you …or enough about you. At any rate.” He looked at the window and said more to himself, “It seems that being unique is the ecclesiastical burden of a select few.”<br />
<br />
“You think just cause I’m eager to pimp it with some titty bar sluts and I’m a jock that I’m some fucking meat head?” Lee asked incredulous.<br />
<br />
“You don’t weigh enough to be a meat head.” Damien observed. “Your just a man.” He made the statement seem like a terrible insult. <br />
<br />
“Yeah well dude, I’m an engineering major.” He announced proudly. “So I’m way more then a jersey and a dick, asshole.” “I’m just saying be careful what you believe in. If you believe to hard it can trap you…” <br />
<br />
Lee was pretty pissed off and was still awkwardly looking for some seat to move to. “Guess you don’t believe in anything then huh?”<br />
<br />
Damien smiled, “Not really.”<br />
<br />
Lee rolled his eyes, “So you don’t believe in God?”<br />
<br />
“Gods.” Damien corrected.<br />
<br />
“Whatever dude.” Lee said closing his eyes and hoping the freak would shuddup.<br />
<br />
In fact, Damien didn’t believe in Gods. Of course he knew they existed. But that didn’t give him any cause to go around believing in them. He thought it was best that they keep to their busy schedules and leave him to his own. They had jobs to do that certainly had nothing to do with him. To Damien’s Practical and Arcane mind, Believing in Gods was like Believing in the Dentist or the Mailman.<br />
<br />
As a pre-dream after thought Lee murmured, “I just wish all the big tittied blondes of the world believed the way I do.” <br />
<br />
Damien dropped his head into his hands exasperatedly. “Don’t you know anything Frat boy?”<br />
<br />
“Huh?” Lee grunted, shaken awake by the urgency in the stranger’s voice.<br />
<br />
“You should NEVER make a wish in front of a Stranger!” <br />
<br />
Lee laughed at the total nonsense of the whole conversation, “Yeah and why’s that Dali Llama?”<br />
<br />
There was a long silence and Lee looked up into the icy blue glint of the Man’s eyes, which seemed to have become impossibly colder,<br />
<br />
“Because you never know how Strange they really are…”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
2. Ripped Lee<br />
<br />
Damien might have thought that Lee was average and ordinary, but Lee knew different. He had grown up in the suburbs of Boston and worked with his dad as a roofer since he was old enough to climb a ladder. He had earned his hard muscled adolescent body over years of grueling work, shingling, spackling, hauling and nailing. His soccer scholarship had promised him an opportunity to go to school for engineering. He could now get a good job that didn’t include a tool belt, and hours in the sun. <br />
<br />
He still sported the thick East Harbor Boston accent, and it seemed to drive the girls crazy. When ever he said words like ‘arvard and “alf time. He had short cropped dark hair and big brown puppy dog eyes, that made his already chiseled baby face seem even more heart Brea kingly handsome. <br />
<br />
He was a good guy. He tried to do right. Make his dad proud. So by all rights he really didn’t deserve what was about to happed to him.<br />
<br />
When Lee got back into town Alex picked him up and took him straight to the strip club that he had been working at. Alex and Lee had been buddies since they were playing HORSE on the basketball courts at recess. Alex had always been the less athletic and shy one. But since Lee had been at college Alex had done a 180. The shy kid was now a cut and ripped ladies man. Talking shit, walking tall and fucking anything that walked. He His tight 170 lb, 5’9 body was now a walking physiology chart. It was amazing. <br />
<br />
And now that his buddy had the bod and the tude’, Lee felt compelled to keep up. They turned up the adolescent machismo to a fever pitch.<br />
<br />
Both boys were talking trash and drinkin beer the whole way to the club. Lee thought the beer tasted kinda grainy and funny… but he couldn’t get enough of it. Lee was yellin’ loudly about big tittied blondes and shakin’ asses, while Alex egged him on promising pussy for days.<br />
<br />
But that’s not what happened.<br />
<br />
Lee wasn’t sure actually how it happened. <br />
<br />
It was like totally wiggy, like totally.<br />
<br />
He had gone to that club with his bud Alex and they like totally wouldn’t let him in. That was just so like totally rude of them. <br />
<br />
But Alex had told him that he could totally get in if he worked there. But the thing was they were only hiring bouncers. Which Lee thought was a total bummer. He was way too much of a lightweight for that. But Alex said they could work out together till Lee was big enough to apply. For some reason that sounded like a totally rad idea.<br />
<br />
So that’s how it must have started… but three months later Lee was totally confused. It seemed Lee was always confused now. Like thank GAWD Alex was there to keep him in line. What a bud. When they started training together Lee was able to work the grueling workout routine into his busy college schedule but then it got more difficult. Classes got skipped. Assignments didn’t get turned in. Academic probation… it all kinda spiraled outa control. But still he never missed his lifting appointments with his best bud Alex.<br />
<br />
…And then there was the drugs… Lee had never been a druggie… It just wasn’t his scene. But since Alex was working at a strip club it seemed like he always had some kind of wild shit. And was more then willing to share. As Lee struggled to stay afloat at college Alex would have him lifting for hours during the day and then spending the early morning hours snorting K and zoning out. And those weren’t the only drugs. About a month into their lifting, Alex got some D-ball and sustenon to “help em out” . Lee was weary at first but eventually gave in. He just couldn’t seem to argue with his fast talking buddy. It got to the point where Lee was so drugged up and worked out that he had almost forgotten the reason they were training so hard.<br />
<br />
He was supposed to get a job at the club as… a bouncer…yeah. As soon as he got the job, he could get in, fuck those hot blondes, hang with the fast crowd and wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again. THEN he could refocus back on school. He was gonna be set.<br />
<br />
It all came to head one day when Alex stood in front of the posing mirror. His overly tanned 6’ frame strained against his 2xist white tank top, hugging every granite curve of his abdomen. His short Nike running shorts draped over his thick cut thighs as he flexed and relaxed his calves. He turned to Lee who was grunting away under the bar of the bench press… <br />
<br />
“18..19…20” <br />
<br />
“You miss your Geometry Class again?” <br />
<br />
Lee sate up on the bench, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked a little ashamed, “Yeah.” <br />
<br />
Alex smiled brightly “Fuck it!”<br />
<br />
Lee laughed “yeah!” <br />
<br />
Alex used his own sweat to spike his own short dirty blonde hair up, and sat down next to his old buddy. His daydream green eyes sparkled with pride. He gave Lee a hard pat on the back. “Dude I think you’re ready!” <br />
<br />
Lee struggled to catch his breath, and smiled “Hell yeah!” He popped a bicep that had started at 14 and was now up to a decent 17. “I’ll fuckin blow them away!” <br />
<br />
“Then them bimbo’s inside’ll line up to blow you!’ The two of them quickly grabbed their bags from their lockers and headed out of the gym. The whole time all LEE could do was rattle on excitedly about how it would be great to get the job. How he couldn’t wait for his interview. The money! The bitches! He was a bundle of nerves and pride! It was when they got to the curb that Lee noticed Alex’s always cocky and carefree face change. <br />
<br />
“Uh… Lee dude there’s something I gotta tell you…” For an instant Lee could see the shy and unconfident Kid Alex had been, “There’s something you should know about the club and the job…” <br />
<br />
“What man?” Alex shifted uncomfortably and lead lee to a side alley near the gym, <br />
<br />
“Here bump this off real quick,” he handed Lee a tiny Vial. Lee automatically took and snorted it up his nose. <br />
<br />
“It’s so fucking great when u got the endorphins and K rush!” he giggled. <br />
<br />
“yeah…” Alex agreed shuffling his feet. <br />
<br />
“So what dya’ wanna tell me?” Lee was flying. His head was lolling and he had the dreamy stoned face of a space cadet. <br />
<br />
“Well dude the job they want you for isn’t a bouncer…” <br />
<br />
“huh?” Lee asked confused. He was so spent from his workout and the drugs he didn’t notice the big black Hummer pull into the alley behind them.<br />
<br />
Alex got really quiet and said, “they don’t need bouncer’s …they need dancers..” <br />
<br />
Lee let out a big horselaugh, “DUDE I CAN’t BE A DANCER … I AINT NO DUMB BLONDE PUSSY WITH CHIG BITTIES!! HAHAHA!” It was the funniest joke his friend had ever told. <br />
<br />
“It’s not a female strip club… Lee… it’s male dancers…”<br />
<br />
“wha..?” <br />
<br />
“That’s what I do I’m a Dancer for em… and they wanted me to get some more guys… for them…” Alex was completely broken now almost ready to cry. <br />
<br />
Lee’s foggy face became unsure “what are you talking bout,,..!!!MRRRHRHRPH!!!” A man came up behind him and shoved a chloroform rag over his mouth. Lee kicked and screamed but didn’t put much of a fight up. He was too loose from his workout and the K. <br />
<br />
As the big man in black dragged his grade school pal into the Hummer the man turned to Alex, “You need a ride back to the club?”<br />
<br />
“No man.” <br />
<br />
“fine.” They tossed the young jock into the back and drove away. <br />
<br />
“Don’t worry bout being blonde and dumb..” Alex said to the empty air. “The doctor takes care of that… He won’t give ya a pussy but he’ll turn ya into one…” Then Alex collapsed onto his knees and cried like a heart broken child.<br />
<br />
IT was three and half weeks later when Alex saw his childhood friend again. In his guilt and depression he had thrown himself into his workouts like a mad man. Avoiding the club. Avoiding his boss. He had totally sold out his best friend. Literally.<br />
<br />
Alex had started working at the club of his own free will 2 years ago. And the owner… Dr. Heart had made sure that Alex grew into the hottest talent their. Alex was now cock of the walk, hottest dude on the box and didn’t want to loose his place. Or the extreme money he was making letting Faggots touch his body or use his mouth.<br />
<br />
So when the doctor told him that he needed a special new “boy”. Alex agreed to get Lee. It seemed totally reasonable but the Doc had that affect on people. He just had a way of making you Want to do what he WANTED. The doc was the most well-connected, powerful and fucking loaded dude Alex had ever met.<br />
<br />
Doctor Heart ran his private club like a kingdom. Only the most exclusive clients, the hottest dancers and the best of everything. It seemed strange that Doctor Heart got so rich running a fucking Fag strip Bar, even if it was the richest fag’s in the country… but Alex learned early on never to question Dr. Heart. Today The Doctor had summoned him up to his palatial estate overlooking the city for a quick meeting. Alex tried to put on his favorite pair of jeans… but couldn’t fit into them so just squeezed into his sweats…which were also really tight. Damn..He was definitely going to have to get some new shit…. It might have been a mistake to double up on his steroid cycle… and then take the rest of Lee’s unused shit….<br />
<br />
After putting on a baggy t-shirt he headed up to “the house on the hill” as everyone who worked for the Doc called it.<br />
<br />
He found the Doc around back by the huge pool. Doctor heart was a gorgeous well coiffed man in his forties. He had salt and pepper hair in a tight gelled crew cut and was doing paperwork under an umbrella. He was wearing a crisp black suit with the sport coat draped over a lounge chair. He stood up to shake Alex’s hand and the buttons on his linen shirt threatened to burst as his big gym buffed chest ballooned against its confines. <br />
<br />
“Alex my boy, so good to see you.” His rich chocolaty voice whispered from his throat. “We’ve missed you around the club lately…” Doc Heart had the carriage and demeanor of a concerned father. He made you feel at ease and cared for. <br />
<br />
“Well I’ve been busy…” Alex fumbled.<br />
<br />
The doc smiled a big toothy grin that would make little girls in red hoods very nervous, “Pumping that Iron huh?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
The doc sat back down. “Oh Alex I know you probably feel really bad about what happened with your friend Lee…” He said, with a gentle tone.<br />
<br />
“Look Doc I know we agreed that it was alright I just feel like …”<br />
<br />
Heart gave him a knowing grin, “You just feel like you betrayed your oldest friend?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah…”<br />
<br />
The doctor smiled and pushed a button on his Cell Phone, “Well Alex I have good news, you don’t have to feel guilty at all! In fact Lee has never been happier. He’s adjusted perfectly and can’t wait to start working tonight!”<br />
<br />
Alex gave him a startled look, “Really?” <br />
<br />
“Ask him yourself.”<br />
<br />
The doors to the doctor’s pool house slid open and a cartoon walked out.<br />
<br />
If Alex hadn’t expected to see Lee, he would never have associated the …man who sauntered out as his buddy.<br />
<br />
At 5’9 his measurements were completely impossible. And the body… the body was so tone that Alex could make out the scar tissue on the man’s every muscle belly. <br />
<br />
What stood in front of lee was an exaggeration of masculinity. Huge pec’s hung like artificial mountains over a tiny waist. The pec flesh was so massive it eclipsed his Lat’s and made a physically impossible ledge over his abdomen, which was ripped to shreds over an 8 pack that made you sick to your stomach. Bulging arms hung awkwardly akimbo at his sides. Large biceps forced out uncomfortably against the bulging tits. His immaculately shaved groin and cut hips were showcased by a low-cut micro thong that sparkled hot pink against his sun beaten brown skin.<br />
<br />
Tone graceful thighs led up into an ass so wide and high it seemed uncomfortable for the man to walk. <br />
<br />
It was Lee’s face…Almost. Behind a halo of straight straw blonde hair that hung down to his chin, Alex could just make out his life long pal. The hair was luxurious and thick, long bangs swept behind his ears and tickled his shoulders. It gave him an almost Elvin look. Lee had had short dark hair and deep brown eyes. This guy had stringy surfer locks…and…Jesus… bright blue eyes the color of pool water. And the eyes betrayed not an ounce of intelligence.<br />
<br />
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Alex stammered.<br />
<br />
“OH Alex,” The Doctor chided, “let’s not get dramatic… Lee is perfectly fine.”<br />
<br />
“What the fuck did you do to him?”<br />
<br />
“I think Lee would do better to tell you that. We’ve kept him very well informed of all the changes… and he couldn’t be more pleased… Isn’t that right lee.”<br />
<br />
The Muscle boy nodded giddily. Lee gave him a wide, white capped tooth grin, that didn’t touch the vacant air headed gleam in his ostentatiously blue eyes, "For sure Ally’, it ‘ been tubular bein here with the doc, he’s like totally "kew-el."<br />
<br />
“It’s quite simple,” Doctor Heart, explained without looking up from his paperwork, "As a man, Lee was the quiet boy with biggest ego and the most forgettable disposition, a typical college amateur. Outwardly a successful student, in private Lee was sexually uncomfortable and internally unconfident. Which made him behave with such obvious disrespect to women. Calling them Bimbo’s and Sluts. A perpetually masturbating loser who longed to be sexed up by a bimbo babe. Desperately clinging to the “Baywatch” ideal. My plan was to liberate this little lost boy from the trap of masturbating fantasy, and thereby gain control of the little bitch and add him to my portfolio." <br />
<br />
Lee’s vein corded neck bobbed up and down like a puppet, "Oh Shi-yit dude, like Lee is so forgetful these days, like duh. As I was saying, I’ve been Loving bein with the Doc; he’s been dressing me up in all these new things… like thongs… and bikini’s…cut-offs and harnesses. He made it so like I like totally look like one of those guys on the cover of fitness magazines. My Hot Pic’s have even won contests on the net, don’tcha know!” Lee began to play with one of his massively engorged purple nipples like it was a rubber band as he continued talking, “I totally agreed when the doc wanted to just see if I could increase my nipples from dime size, to maybe the diameter of a quarter, and increase the length of the tip also, just so they would poke through any shirt or tank top. - Like duh, I was so lucky to have a bitchin’ Doctor who would cooperate. He says steroid won’t be no more hassle to get no more or any more of my , Giggle “happy pills”. Prescription filled, delivered and pills down the hatch! Like, totally! tee hee.” Lee’s nipple manipulation made his already swollen member bounce against the confines of his hot pink micro thong. "Funny, it turns out my body is totally ultra-sensitive to these special hormones and …er…. Mood… elevators…. Well dude, the first week on only 2 pills a day, I felt a luscious tingle all over my body, and my nipples became ever so sensitive to the touch - gave me goose bumps. I gotta thank you too dude cause, like all those steroids you had me on totally, supplemented by body sculpting workout, made my formerly featureless Chest a big meat rack in just a couple months! In less than 3 weeks my nipples broadened into maroon silver dollars with pointy cone pink tips. I felt totally sexy, oh my gawd, WOW! What a luscious rush! My chest looked so Big and bloated.<br />
<br />
LIKE Real FUCK PILLOWS! I was addicted! It seems the doc was delighted to shoot me up with higher potency Steroids. I just can’t stop!" <br />
<br />
The doctor smiled benevolently which made him seem all the more sinister "I really have to hand it to you Alex. You did a great job. The combo of hormones and intense lifting wreaked havoc with Lee’s slim built little figure. He was packing muscle onto muscle at an alarming rate. With in those months you two spent together, Lee’s expanding chest protuberances and Biceps had swollen, his arms becoming navel orange size- the perfect shelf on his chest too. He was a real hit in the men’s locker room at that gay gym I had you two going to. As His newly plumped, Juice filled ass cheeks broadened; Lee’s shapely Hindquarters became the boy’s greatest asset! What a figure! That’s why I had to intercede and snatch him up right away! I know it was sudden but I’ve been in this business for a while and you got strike while the iron’s hot. He was mentally and physiologically addicted to the K and my own special blend of mood altering drugs.<br />
<br />
He had been irreversibly altered. But that was only step one.” The doctor fondly patted Lee’s overly tanned bubble butt. Causing a squeal of girlish pleasure from the former hard-nosed Boston roofer. <br />
<br />
Lee gyrated and shook with glee at the Doctor’s roaming hand over his round ass globes "Like totally, my body was totally ready for service but my mind did not have a clue! That afternoon they took me; The Doc took me to this Plastic Surgeon. They stripped me and cuffed me right to the table of the examining room. Don’tcha know, I was kneeling, gym shorts around my ankles, big bare ass pointed to the sky, A short time later I found myself on the operating table for liposuction, fat grafting, and oh my gawd, mega-size silicone Pec implants. The surgeon whittled my waist from a 30 to a 28. Then they gave me Glute implants that stretched my ass cheeks out like way far, a real double-bubble melon butt,… soon to be my new nickname around the club. “ He said proudly. <br />
<br />
“They gave you fucking plastic surgery?” Alex screamed. This was insane. This was impossible.<br />
<br />
The Doc’s face turned serious, “I know we didn’t discuss any surgery, but my clients have specific tastes Alex. They don’t want just another muscle boy. They’ve been there done that. They want a total sexed up caricature. Besides,” he shrugged “the surgeries were only mildly evasive and since they were all done at once, Lee was up and mobile again in a little under two weeks. The steroids combined with the progressive anti-biotic and tissue stimulators made it all but routine. The pec implants took his impressive if common 46 chest to a solid 49, and with the lipo around his waist well… you can see the results…” Lee flexed and the absurd disproportion of his body was fully displayed. His muscular chest seemed like two huge mounds of unmoving bloated chest tissue that hung over and impossibly slender swimmers waist. “The Glute implants were a stroke of genius. The surgeon suggested them to give him some proportion. So now Lee has the most ridiculously exaggerated figure. Huge slab like pecs, big firm ass and a slim little athletic torso. He’s perfect!”<br />
<br />
Lee stroked his huge nipples like a moron and his vacant eyes blinked in confusion, "Like, I forgot what I wanted to say –Shi-yit, ever since I woke up from the surgery I’ve been like totally spaced out! my gawd! My mind is clouded again. Totally, like I just can’t think straight anymore! Maybe it’s a side effect of those toxic doses of tranquilizers, which are shot into my fat butt by the Doc, or my daily brain numbing drink of fentanyl and MDMH spiked orange juice. I is feeling oh so mellow all the time these days, and, “lee blushed a bashful faggy pink, “oh so sexy, too. I mean all I can think about, giggle, is sliding my, puffed and plumped sucker lips around some stud’s thick, hard cock- the longer the better -ALL THE TIME- don’tcha know. Just dreaming of some hard bodied to-die-for muscle dude, oh my, it’s so, so, so HOT! TOTALLY! Must be those drugs or the doc’s designer sex hormones. Like who cares anyway!<br />
<br />
I just don’t know about that that stuff, anymore. Nope. I was always pretty smart, but hey, I’m totally dumb as dirt now, Dude!” Lee raised one cut arm for Alex to high five him and then put it down petulantly when Alex seemed too shocked to respond. “Whoops, guess I gotcha bro! I just Wish I could have finished school before the doc here got his Frankenstein hands one me, but all that math shiy-it was much too hard for me to understand. Who cares anyway! I’m a Chest bursting bimbo babe, …The doc calls me a Himbo, giggle, Isn’t that the kew-elest! The Doc says I need to pay him back for everything he’s done for me! And I can’t wait Alex-dude! He says I can work at his club and will use my body to make lots of money, (giggle), so I can pay him back and oh EW! So I can buy more skimpy clothing at the mall. Like, malls are so awesome, don’tcha know! What did I used to do when I couldn’t shop? “<br />
<br />
Alex began to back away like a frightened deer, “this isn’t possible… I can’t believe…” <br />
<br />
The doctor stood up and crossed to Alex, “While he was recuperating in bed fro the weeks after his surgeries, me and my associates experimented with some personality altering techniques. Constant visual retinal simulation. Hypnotic suggestion. Positive re-enforcement, negative reinforcement, sensory deprivation… over stimulation. We shocked and prodded Lee’s mind until he had no clue what to think…. Except what I told him.” Alex began to shake. “Look Alex I’ve used all these techniques a dozen times before…just never all at once… really your friend here is my master piece. You should be proud… he is.”<br />
<br />
“I’m going to be the scorchin’est ass on the pole at the club.” Lee said and clapped his muscled forearms together like a 5 year old, while he clapped his hands happily. "I know I told you we were just going to encourage him to join you on stage for a couple of nights… but when I saw his progress and how handsome he was, well… I ultimately tired of that game. In the guise of making him one of my dancers, I carefully proceeded to make him into an insatiable sex slut, and black market slave boy capable of generating a 6-figure income at selling price.<br />
<br />
After a quick rehabilitation, the now docile and compliant Lee is ready to start training to become the big chested, big butted bimbo cock sucker he always believed all strippers to be!<br />
<br />
Lee has learned be aroused like a woman: by stimulation of his sensitized nipples, his sissy collagen distended mouth, and through a dildo training his ass pussy.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah like I totally don’t know how I survived without having my ass full with something!” Lee moved his bronze fuck bod onto a lawn chair, His naked body stretched and strained as he raised both muscular legs into the air, displaying his shaved scrotum and ass lips. He pulled aside the thin pink string of the thong to reveal the wide base of a big black butt plug. “Now I got this in me all the time! Shi-yit! Dude!” Keeping his legs firmly spread eagle Lee began to swivel the base around and moan in pleasure.<br />
<br />
The doctor laughed at the absurd sight, “tell your buddy here about how I taught you to suck cock like the big blonde stripper you are!” The doctor leaned into Alex conspiratorially “you see the hypnosis worked extremely well mainly because Lee had that belief that all blonde strippers with big tit’s were total cock whore’s. So when he was ready we just took him to a mirror and showed him that he was now a blonde… in a thong with massive tit’s… and told him he KNEW that they were slaves to dick…right?…yeah so his completely mind fuck brain just broke like glass… it’s been easy as hell since then…sure he cried for awhile but after you break a man,” the doctor growled with fever and fervor, “It’s simple to put him back together however you want.”<br />
<br />
“Like, Oh my gawd,” Lee moaned as he continued to fuck his ass with the butt plug. His tan bod oozing sweat and bucking like an animal, “ I totally swallowed his entire shaft through my lips, deep throat style, yuh know, and tongued the tip, then totally sucked him dry like a vacuum cleaner. Dude, I nearly choked on him, but what a taste sensation! Oh my gawd, it felt so gratifying to be a sex object! I tingled all over! don’tcha know! And since then DUDE I’ve been trading sexual favors for beauty enhancements ever since. That Faggot plastic surgeon is the perfect trick! The first blowjob landed me a set of super thick collagen injected pump-sucker lips. The next time, after I let him suck my cock, Like don’tcha know, the guy gives me an out patient free facelift complete with high arched eyebrows and a permanent wide eyed idiot stare! After surgery, Plasticman flipped my nude body face down on the OR table. I lay there spread eagled, with my pale plump bubble butt pointed at the ceiling again! cheeks spread wide apart. My exposed pussy ass quivered as he pumped his thick hard cock into my tight hole. Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd! Oh!Oh! I screamed for joy with each ball shaking thrust. It was awesome! It was tubular it was OH SHYIIIIIIIIIIITTTIIITTTT!!!!!” His body bucked upward, his groin thrust into the air and his seed splashed all over his chest as he came at the mix of memory and the stimulation of the butt plug. He hadn’t once touched his cock. The Doctor spread his hands in satisfaction<br />
<br />
"Where once there was just another college straight boy, I’ve manage to transform and create a passively pleasant, agreeable contented muscle cow. He’ll be a big titted cash cow for sure, and when I’m finished with him I can sell him off for the price of estate in south beach." Lee was rubbing his cum into his brown skin like lotion and said<br />
<br />
"The doc’s been giving me pointers on how to be the best blonde stripper in the club! I call everyone Dude or Bro! I can never remember anything for longer than a minute - except for my Stat’s and my lifting Max’s. He Even got this speech coach to like totally reworking the way I talk. Os I can sound like the blonde surfer boy the doc made me into! Like Sick huh? I’m totally stoked to be the best big chested, bleached out blonde pole dancer there is!”. The Doc smiled and patted one of Lee’s big shoulders " Medically altered and surgically augmented, Lee has become the ultimate fuck boy. He’ll be ever so popular with all of the important studs on stage at the club and all those sad old queens will sell their soul for five minutes of his time.” Lee’s eyes got even more distant and Alex could swear he seemed a little sad underneath the distortion of his air headed exterior “ The Doc has made me into everything I thought Blonde strippers should be! He so right! They are exactly what I thought they were! I totally believed it was true and now I know it is!<br />
<br />
Ever since I got my hair bleached at the Doc’s salon and they made me tan twice a day, I dress like a whore 24/7 and I love it! Big floppy Pec’s just spill out over my tiny skintight Lycra crop top and my guns bust out from the armholes. My colossal bubble butt totally jiggles like a bowl of Jell-O, as I walk down the street in my high tops and biker shorts. My cock bouncing like a sausage in my tiny shiny nylon thong!” He bounded up to Lee, his thong still askew and his thick shaft bouncing against his tan thigh,<br />
<br />
“Go ahead, and take a free feel of these Huge Man TITS! Hard and round, look at them hanging down my tapered waist to my pierced bellybutton. Shapely thighs, baby smooth and hairless all over. Go ahead, Dude, and Play with one of my dinner plate nipples! Then I’ll slide my collagen plumped lips around your shaft, take little sharp bites of the sensitive tip of your cock, lick your throbbing hardness with my tongue, until you beg me, really beg me, to stop! Like, totally, dude!” The doctor separated them “They’ll be enough for that later boys… but for now you gotta get ready for work.”<br />
<br />
3. BELIEVE IT<br />
<br />
Alex and Lee sat with the doctor in silence on the way to the club. Alex Was too stunned to speak. Lee was too high. The cold interior of the doctor’s limo mirrored, Alex’s mood. As Heart continued to rifle through folders and make important calls. Alex just stared at his remolded friend. Lee had slipped into something that could barely be described as clothes for the ride to work. He sat cheerfully in a pair of tight little gym shorts that matched his equally tight t-shirt… both looked like they were obviously a junior high school student’s gym uniform.<br />
<br />
Alex shifted uncomfortably. He had taken several swigs of the Doc’s cognac to calm his nerves. But nothing was helping. He couldn’t go to the police. He was an accomplice. No one he told would believe him. He had destroyed his best friend’s life. He took another swig. Darkness unfolded over the city as they pulled up to the club’s back entrance. Two large Italian men, resembling gorillas in black t-shirts opened the limo doors.<br />
<br />
“Look it’s da boss an his Purty-boy’s.” One of them aped. “Wassup Boss.” The other Muled. Alex flinched from the bouncer’s helping hand, “Back off meat head.” Alex snapped.<br />
<br />
The bouncer’s low hanging brow furrowed in anger, “Hey u’s Bedda Shuddup Purty boy.”<br />
<br />
Alex sneered at the goon.<br />
<br />
From the first day he started dancing at doctor Heart’s club Alex had hated the bouncers. They were always huge roid monsters. Thug attitudes with bad manners. They were always Italian Gumba’s who lurched around the club’s exterior like territorial cavemen. They gave him shit about being a go-go boy and treated him like a pussy. He fucking hated the bastards. Their thick neck fat from abusing the juice. Their bloated bitch tits, covered in thick wiry Italian curls, with all their tacky gold jewelry hanging over them. Fuck them. He caught the doctor giving him an appraising look as he brushed passed the Mediterranean Neanderthals. It was a strange look. It scared him. Once in the club the doctor retreated to his private office and left the boys to get ready for a night of pole dancing, tea-bagging and cock sucking.<br />
<br />
In the dancer’s dressing rooms, Alex hurried to his table and Lee followed like a cheerful vapid little robot. The other dancer’s gave Alex funny looks but then made themselves busy with welcoming the newest boy. The other dancers drooled over Lee and fawned on his every idiotic utterance.<br />
<br />
Alex quickly stripped out of his street clothes and began to slather himself in fake tanner and body make-up. Across the room he could see that Lee was huddled in a close circle with a group of the doctor’s other “projects.” Most of the boys who danced at doctor Heart’s club were regular queens who rode the pole for dollars. But it was common knowledge to the boys in the doctor’s inner circle that some of the dancers were working their under… different circumstances. There were five of them. The doctor’s previous “projects.” You couldn’t tell them apart from any of the other young male bodies in thongs and boots at all. Except for the cock rings. The guys the doctor had brainwashed and altered all sported silver cock rings with the words “property of Club Heart” on them. Now Lee stood in the center of the step ford boys like he had belonged there all his life. Alex felt like slitting his wrists. One of those guys, a big skinhead they all called psycho was showing his big PA’d cock to Lee, the thick silver cock ring blatant against his pale shaved groin. Rumor had it that Psycho had once been a high school math teacher before Dr. Heart. Now he was a tattooed and pierced freak with an ultimate fighter body. Lee smiled and like a toddler showed Psycho his own dick. Alex was sickened but not shocked to see that Lee’s deep Carmel groin sported it’s own shiny dick cuff. Alex shivered and thanked god that he decided to work at the club… and hadn’t had to be modified like those poor bastards. “Aren’t you going to shave?” One of the regular go-go’s asked him.<br />
<br />
“Huh?” Alex grunted startled out of his reflection. “You should shave Alex. Some people might think that’s gross ya know?” The guy tisked and walked away. Alex quickly checked his face in the mirror. No five o’clock shadow… no stubble…he was fine that guy most be crazy. The lights blinked and all the boys went to the stage door on cue. Alex lingered behind to sick with self-loathing to move. 12 Pairs of round male butts flapped against brightly covered ass floss g-strings in front of him.<br />
<br />
What had he done? That night Lee was the center of the club’s universe on stage. Guys were dipping hundreds in the cleft of his cosmetically enhanced ass crack. They hollered and cheered as he fucked himself wildly against the air and humped the pole. HE gave head like it was good manners and let anyone and everyone stroke him off. All the while the same air-headed expression of doped up joy and stupidity radiated off of him like sunshine. No one paid much attention to Alex. In fact if it was possible people were ignoring him. Even his regulars the guys who worshipped him seemed uninterested or downright disgusted. He couldn’t figure it out. Things came to a head at about 3am when after hours of brooding and watching his best friend giggle and drool cum Alex couldn’t take it anymore. Lee was sitting inside a circle of three guys who were jerking off over him as one of the other dancers at out his ass. He was bucking and sweating like an animal with that stupid grin on his face. I was too much. It was enough! Alex charged over and broke the group up. Businessmen were yelling. Clients were screaming and the dancers were revolting. Suddenly the big damn WOP Bouncers were in the thick of it and were dragging him and Lee off the dance floor. The gangster wannabe’s hauled both boys into Doctor Heart’s office. The good doctor however didn’t seem surprised at all to see them. In fact, he looked like he had been waiting. The big Italians shuffled the boys to the front of his desk. <br />
<br />
“Get your FUCKING MONKEY PAWS OFF ME GUIDO!” Alex barked. <br />
<br />
“Alex? Why must you be so rude to the doormen? You’ve always treated them like animals.” <br />
<br />
“Because they are.” Alex answered angrily. <br />
<br />
“Why? They’re just the hired Italian muscle? What makes them so different from you?” <br />
<br />
"I might do juice but I don’t abuse it! I’m not some slimy mook with the brain of a fucking dog.”<br />
<br />
“You really believe that’s what these guys are?” The Doctor purred. <br />
<br />
“Hell yeah! Fuck them and fuck you!” <br />
<br />
“Alex, Alex, Alex I was hoping you were going to be an adult about all this.” Alex had built up the courage to stand up to the grey haired entrepreneur. <br />
<br />
“Look I din’t want this for him!” He said pointing to his friends’ dopey form. “I thought he was going to be like the other guys… please make him normal…make him the way he was.” <br />
<br />
Doctor Heart smiled broadly. It wasn’t reassuring. “Well is that all?” He sighed. <br />
<br />
“That I can actually do.” Alex wasn’t prepared for that “what…?” Doctor Heart stood up and made his way across the room to Lee. “You see Alex I always place a post hypnotic suggestion in all my “special” boys. A simple word that will free their repressed original personality and give them back their own mind.” <br />
<br />
“Let Lee go…” Alex begged. <br />
<br />
“Perhaps…but what are we going to do about you Alex?” The doctor’s gaze hardened like stone. <br />
<br />
“Me…? I’ll just keep dancing for you… I won’t leave.” <br />
<br />
“I’m afraid I can’t have you dancing anymore.” The Doctor said harshly. “So if you’re not on stage I’m going to need Lee to take your place.” <br />
<br />
“Why can’t I stay a dancer? Doctor heart…please I’m sorry…” <br />
<br />
The doctor smiled again. “Like I said a simple word and Lee will go right back to normal.” He totally switched subjects. Ignoring Alex like he hadn’t heard him. “Post hypnotic suggestions can be very powerful. You can convince a man’s mind to do just about anything.” <br />
<br />
“Look Doc…” Doctor Heart plowed on, “It’s fascinating really. While you were training Lee I made it so he wouldn’t notice how much an effect the steroids were having on him. Made him forget the surgeries too. So when I showed him his reflection in the mirror and gave him the trigger to see his ACTUAL reflection…it was such a terrible shock that he crumbled like a child.” Something was going on. The doctor never talked without a motive. Alex was getting very nervous. “Why with a post hypnotic suggestion I could make a man even consciously forget that he had ballooned up from 215 lbs to 240.” The smile could curdle milk.<br />
<br />
The doctor slowly paced in front of Alex’s terrified form. “You See Alex, you’re not exactly in the shape of one of my stripper boys anymore. All that time working out with Lee..And doing those multiple cycle’s and stacks… You didn’t notice your clothes wouldn’t fit anymore?” He paused and looked at Alex with mad fury, “Did you really think it was you Choice to stay away from my club for three weeks?” he barked a laugh. “Do you think any of you fucking sluts do anything I don’t command?” Alex’s eyes were now wide with horror “what did you …?” Heart advanced on him, they were eye to eye now. Heart’s smoky grey ice bore into Alex’s green with fire and intensity. “I have complete control over you ass whores! I can say, make a boy inject himself with Human growth hormone on top of a steroid cycle…and make him completely forget about it. I can Make that same boy stop shaving himself smooth and not even notice that his once smooth tanned frame is covered in gristly matted fur.” Alex was shaking. “I can suggest that a boy get rhinoplasty from my miracle working surgeon and he won’t even remember it.” “You couldn’t… I didn’t…” “So you can see it’s a small feat for me to get that same boy to go to his local salon… get a body wave in his mousy blonde hair and then dye every last follicle on his body black. Curtains to carpet” “no…” Alex sobbed as he felt tears stinging his cheeks. “Why don’t you turn around and look in the mirror Alex?” “NO!!!” “Really?” The doctor laughed, “PROGRAM 1 5 7 9, now turn around.” Alex felt his body move without thought. He was so surprised he was moving that he turned right into the large Mirror on the doctor’s office wall. The man in the mirror was not Alex. Could not be Alex. Alex had spent the last two years molding his body into a tight lean muscled Adonis. He had been meticulous about his diet and body fat. Obsessed with proportion and form. The image in the mirror was swollen and bloated. Big puffy delts sloped into inflated pecs. Muscles retaining so much water they looked engorged. His Abdomen was distended with the characteristic affects of HGH, giving him the typical “roid gut”. Big thick thighs mashed together like columns of flesh and muscle. And every last inch of skin was covered in thick black fur. A carpet of dark kinky hair crept up from his toes to the nape of his neck. His forearms were so dark they looked like long gloves. Every over juiced muscle was ballooning out. D-bal acne covered his back and chest. The worst was the back of his neck. The heavy crease of testosterone overdoes was plain in the way his grotesque traps met the fat on the back of his head.<br />
<br />
Heart had mentioned rhinoplasty? His nose wasn’t the elegant button he remembered. Now it was thick and hooked. The classic Roman beak. All this was crowned with a shiny high-gelled pompadour and thick unkempt sideburns.<br />
<br />
Alex should have looked like a well-groomed go-go boy. Blonde hair. Deep tan. Cut and sculpted physique. Smooth as an adolescent boy.<br />
<br />
This wasn’t him. This wasn’t him. He shook with sobs and looked down at his feet. He saw it now. Big distended belly. Bloated pecs. And all the hair. Christ it was everywhere…. Fucking hair everywhere. He looked disgusting in his bright red thong. Now wonder every one on the dance floor had avoided him and looked at him like a freak. Then something caught his eye. He pulled the pouch of his thong down, and their nestled in the black rat’s nest of his pubes was a silver ring encircling his cock.<br />
<br />
“You see Alex,” He heard Heart laugh behind him, “You can’t be a dancer anymore, but as you know we’ve been looking for a new bouncer for months.” Alex’s knees buckled and slumped to the floor on his heavy hairy thighs. “I’m not…you can’t…what did you do to me!!!!” “Well with all the shit you’ve been on it’s a miracle your heart din’t give out from the strain…as it stands your liver’s probably a mess and your heart has probably expanded…but don’t worry we’ll take care of you. I always treat my Bouncer’s like family.” “Why?” Alex cried as he stared at his coat of sweaty chest hair. Heart went back behind his desk, “It’s Like this Alex. The whole club thing. It’s a front. Human trafficking now that’s the new frontier. I’ve been trying to sell your dumb ass for a year now. Just no buyers really. You were too vanilla. You didn’t have enough character. Now a big Bodybuilding Italian from the Bronx? A huge grunting bouncer who will moan like a 13 year old girl for a stiff prick. That’ll sell. I’ll have you and your freaky little buddy here off the auction block in no time.” “Look do what you want with me just turn Lee back.” Alex managed through gut wrenching whines. “Oh ok.” The doctor said pleasantly. “Lee?” The bubble headed blonde turned automatically and said stupidly “what’s up?” “Program 1278” Lee did a quick double take and then seemed to shiver.<br />
<br />
“what… what what’s going on…dammit my head it feels like sawdust…” The surfer dude garble was gone. Lee was talking in his regular voice. His Boston accent was thick with confusion. The doctor guided Lee’s confused from to a chair, “I know you’re confused son. Just give me a second and I’ll explain everything.” Lee just nodded and held his head. The Doctor turned back to Alex’s Huge Hairy form, “See now your friend’s going to be fine. Put these on and go take your post up front with your Familia Guido.” He threw a pile of cloths at Alex. Alex stood and sorted through the black clothes. He slipped a tight white wife beater over his grossly inflated body. The swirls of inky hair crept out from under it like clouds of masculinity.<br />
<br />
“Oh and here you go, you know how you Italians like your trashy underwear.” He tossed Alex a pair of Zebra Print Bikini briefs that he quickly forced up his hairy legs. “The final touch.” Heart laughed. He slipped several heavy gold chains around Alex’s thick bull neck. Crucifixes and medallions glittered against Alex’s chest hair and nestled in the great canyon of his acne-covered chest. Alex looked at himself in the mirror. He was the Picture of South Jersey Italian trailer trash. The pelt of greasy ink black hair pushed against the white fabric. The forest of his dyed black pit hair matted against his biceps. The tacky underwear was surrounded by a jungle of black pubic hair that spread across his groin and down his furry legs like an animal. The chains were the kicker. He was anyone’s idea of a total Classless Iron pumping, roid-head, Italian lout. “I’m so sorry…” he moaned. “My ass hurts…” Lee whined from his chair. The doctor turned to him, “Oh I’m sorry son. That’s probably because we took you’re butt plug out before you went on stage. You’ve been plugged up like a foot wide drain for the passed couple weeks. You’re probably not used to feelin empty.” He added amiably. Alex reached for the Black Slacks Heart hand thrown him. But was impeded from putting them on by Heart’s firm grasp on his forearm. “Not just yet,”<br />
<br />
he whispered. “I want to admire my work.” Alex was left in the cheap underwear staring at his hirsute bloated form. “Fine.” He spat, through trembling lips. “Look at that man in the mirror. What do you think people would believe he was like by just looking at him.” The doctor’s tone changed. It subtle. Now he sounded almost monotone…maybe a little melodic and the voice washed over Alex’s shocked and broken mind like fog. “That he’s just some WOP thug.” “Really?” “Some dirty Jersey or New York Garbage.” “Do you think they’d believe he was a white boy- Straight student a student from Boston?” “Fuck no… He looks like a fucking Gumba -high school drop out from the Bronx…” The voice was now inside his head like an echo, reverberating through his foggy mind like an incessant buzz, “Well,” said the good doctor, “If you Believe that it must be true…” the doctor palmed the hairy ass, “I mean how could he not be… How could you NOT BE?” Alex’s mind snapped. His jaw hung slack and a thin line of drool was running over his jaw. He just stared like a vegetable at his reflection in the mirror. “There it is,” the doctor said to his hypnotized little zombie. “That’s it.” He squeezed the big junked up Butt, “This is my favorite part. Better then any fuck. Any blowjob. Watching a man BREAK. There’s nothing more erotic. Taking some clueless boy, and mind fucking him until there’s nothing left but broken pieces you can put back together any way you want. Masculine pride shattered. Identity destroyed. Just pliant clay desperate for someone to shape it. Men aren’t much more then animals really. Breaking them’s like breaking a horse. Snap their will…no matter how rigid, no matter how strong they are…and you can ride them till they drop.” “What’s going on, why am I fucking naked….” Lee’s voice interrupted. Heart turned around, “Well welcome to the Tea party Alice.” Lee struggled to stand on his shaky legs. “I feel like I was hit by a truck.” “No at last count it was 6 guys.”<br />
<br />
“Huh, it think I might need a doctor.” Lee slurred, “I feel funny.” “Well son I am a doctor and you do look funny,” he motioned toward the mirror, “take a look for yourself.” Lee stumbled in front of the glass, slipping in front of Alex. Lee didn’t even recognize his long time friend… then he looked up, “What the FUCK!” He pulled long Blonde bangs out from in front of his head, “What the fuck!” “It’s just you Lee.” The doctor taunted from behind him. Lee was shaking. His body convulsing in alarm. “No…No…<br />
<br />
my hair my eyes…my chest..” “But it’s what you believed a Stripper should be.” The doctor fingered the stunned boy’s mane, “Hair extensions and blue contacts.” He clutched his stomach in pain. He was going to throw up. Hot tears raced down his cheeks, elegantly. He moaned recognizing again the pain in his butt. It was like a vacuum. He felt so sore and empty. “My..My …ass…” “Oh that,” Dr. Heart moved to the still unmoving Alex, “Maybe this big lug can help you out with that… Can’t you Alex.<br />
<br />
Program 1579.” Alex’s eyes widened, tranced and ready to accept programming, “or should I call you Bronx?” Alex… Bronx began to fumble with his leopard-covered package. His meaty mitt fondling his cock hungrily. “Jus relax Lee.” He growled. He moved behind the thong clad victimized buddy. Lee was still confused and terrified when he felt the swell of the large ape’s underwear covered groin press against his sensitive bare as cheeks. “It’s not our fault.” He felt a hairy hand begin to twist his engorged nipples. “It’s not our fault. Tha’ Doc’ turned us inta dis.” Lee instinctively forced his swollen ass into the rough fabric of his molester’s jock.<br />
<br />
The pleasure in his sensitive nipples jolted into Lee’s fractured brain like electric current, he let out a high-pitched whine. “Dat’s Right jus’ give inta it. We ain’t got’s no choice. See?” Bronx pulled down the waistband of his briefs and let his engorged cock meat flap against Lee’s huge rump. “It’s not our fault.” He put two big hands on Lee’s back and bent him forward. Lee obliged mechanically. The hulking hairy body leaned over him and brushed wisps of blonde hair away from his ears. A hot animal voice with a heavy accent dripped into his ear, “He done made us inta whores…we can’t do noffin bout it… just go wit it…” Bronx spit a large wad into his hand and rubbed his precum oozing cock head it. Slicking his big phallus until his cock ring shone like it was freshly polished.<br />
<br />
“I’m not a whore.” Lee cried. The sobs now racking his bent over physique.<br />
<br />
“Yea you is.” Bronx’s big meaty face broke into a wide grin, “Lemme show ya.”<br />
<br />
Lee cried out! Bronx thrust himself deep into Lee’s hole. In and out. Hips bucking, ass pounding male aggression. He reached over and twisted both nipples riding his former friend like a pony and using his tits as a bridle. <br />
<br />
“I’m not a whore!” Lee moaned as he wiggled on the invading cock.<br />
<br />
“I’m not a whore.” Lee was scrambling to fell the entire girth, relieving the terrible absence he had felt.<br />
<br />
“I’m not a.. Oh god.. oh shiy-it!” He saw his reflection. Wasn’t this what he had expected out of the strippers? Blonde hair tossing, big heavy chest being manhandled, by some low life boyfriend?<br />
<br />
“I’m not …a DEEPER DEEPR!” <br />
<br />
“What are ya’” Bronx groaned.<br />
<br />
“I’m a whore.” Lee spat quick and repeatedly. His mouth spewing “I’m a whore. I’m a whore. I’m a whore…” with every thrust.<br />
<br />
“LEE Program 1278- Malibu.”<br />
<br />
Bronx continued to ass rape Malibu for another forty-five minutes as the doctor went back to work. When they were done both men smiled, shook hands and went back to work. Malibu right back on stage sitting on guy’s faces and pulling on his schlong like a thirteen year old. Bronx was out front talking shit with the other bouncers. <br />
<br />
A week went by. Malibu dancing. Bronx Lifting and Bouncing. It was all they knew. It was now who they were.<br />
<br />
One night after the club was closed down about 5 am. One of the other bouncer’s guided Malibu and Bronx into the doctor’s office for a special meeting. <br />
<br />
“Well boy’s I have great news. I’ve secured a deal for both of you. I’ve managed to sell you both off. Malibu will be on a plane tomorrow for San Francisco and Bronx is on his way to Seattle.” Both men just nodded dumbly.<br />
<br />
The bouncer looked at the big blonde in his little skimpy thong and pasty covered pecs. Then at the big Italian bodybuilder in his jogging suit, his heavy gold chains and his wife beater.<br />
<br />
“I can’t believe that bouncer is that little pretty boy Alex.” He said incredulously.<br />
<br />
Heart turned to the bouncer, “I’ll tell you man. The marvels of modern science. A couple of drugs…some elective surgery and a lot of time… it’s like Magic.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I’d have to disagree…” <br />
<br />
The Doctor, the bouncer and the two boys all turned to the door of the room.<br />
<br />
In the doorway, a figure stepped forward, “Is this the way to the Men’s room?”<br />
<br />
Dr. Heart answered in a brutal voice, “You’re in the wrong place man!”<br />
<br />
A smile stretched across the stranger’s face, and two brilliant blue eyes twinkled beneath his black ball cap, “Oh, but I think not.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
4. OR NOT<br />
<br />
“Who the fuck are you!” Dr. Heart barked.<br />
<br />
The figure sighed, as he investigated a thick layer of dust on a nearby table top, “Who are any of us really?” And again he flashed that infuriating smile. “One never can tell.”<br />
<br />
“Get the fuck out!”<br />
<br />
The man in black continued to meander through the room, “take these two for example.” He motioned to Bronx and Malibu (formerly Alex and Lee). He began to tick points off on his fingertips. “They think they’re one thing, they are another… but in truth they are neither.”<br />
<br />
“Your not makin any sense mate.” The bouncer said.<br />
<br />
“Paradoxical paradigms.” The stranger smiled. “Life is chock full of ‘em. They’re the nutty outer shell to the ooey gooey nugget that is reality.”<br />
<br />
The good doctor shook his head wearily, “I don’t believe this…”<br />
<br />
“That’s quite alright,” the man answered casually “I believe enough for ALL of us.” He drifted smoothly toward Bronx and Malibu, eyeing them like exotic furniture. “What I have trouble believing is that you managed to accomplish all this with practical means.” He sniffed with distaste. “Practical magic.” He spat.<br />
<br />
“It’s not easy or cheap.”<br />
<br />
“I imagine not… then again I’VE never been a big believer in the despicable practice of… Modern Alchemy.” He gave the muscle boys a sad look, “but there you have it.”<br />
<br />
“I could give you a quick lesson, friend.” Heart growled through clenched teeth.<br />
<br />
“Hypnotism?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.”<br />
<br />
“Steroids?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.”<br />
<br />
“Narcotics?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.”<br />
<br />
“Psychedelics?”<br />
<br />
“Of course.”<br />
<br />
“Amateur.” The man sneered. “All in all, it’s a difficult mess to clean up.” The smile became even wider and triumphant.<br />
<br />
“Good thing a witch is never without her broom, eh?.” <br />
<br />
Dr. Heart had obviously had all he was going to take. He motioned to the Bouncer. The large goon brandished a knife and advanced on the newcomer. The man gave the thug a surprised look, “Oh baby, only four inches?” He said glancing critically at the blade.<br />
<br />
“DON’T WORRY, You’ll feel me.” He growled.<br />
<br />
All the amusement suddenly drained out of the stranger’s face. “I doubt it.”<br />
<br />
He flicked his wrist.<br />
<br />
The three hundred pound man went flying cross the room like a rag doll, before smacking weakly against the far wall.<br />
<br />
Ice-cold iris’s focused on Dr. Heart. “Care to try again?”<br />
<br />
Dr. Heart couldn’t overcome his shock to do anything but gape.<br />
<br />
“I thought not.”<br />
<br />
The smile returned, bright and inviting. “Alright boys, it’s getting late and you’ve got midterms in the morning.” He snapped his fingers and the detonation was as loud and thick as thunder. Heart had the queasy feeling that the earth beneath him had some how just shifted.<br />
<br />
Malibu and Bronx began to shake out of their trance wearily.<br />
<br />
“These boys are mine! They aren’t in college they’re fuck meat! They’re…”<br />
<br />
The angelic smile swiveled toward the doctor, “It’s impolite to disagree with someone, when they’re talking.” The smile grew tighter. “Now hold your tongue or I’ll Nail it to your desk.”<br />
<br />
Lee shook his head and looked around confused. His boyfriend Alex was staring spacey off into nowhere. “Ahh we better be going. Come on baby.” He shook Alex’s massive form and began dragging him out of the room. <br />
<br />
“Wha…. Lee? What’s goin on…?” Alex rumbled.<br />
<br />
“I think you convinced me to do K on a school night, again.”<br />
<br />
Alex rubbed one big hand against the acne on his shoulder, “Lee honey… where are your clothes?”<br />
<br />
Lee looked down at the ridiculous little pink pouch that was his only concealment. “Holy shit!”<br />
<br />
Lee flushed bright red and his friend Alex… no his Boyfriend Alex moved in front of him to shield his nudity.<br />
<br />
“We gotta get the fuck outa here,” Alex advised. Moving them quickly toward the door.<br />
<br />
They began to argue like an old married couple as they made it out of the office. “Alright!” Lee agreed. “But I’m driving… your probably real fucked up… and you can barely drive sober…”<br />
<br />
“You never give me any credit,” Alex sulked.<br />
<br />
“You boys be careful now, Drive safe and for god’s sake put some clothes on!”<br />
<br />
The two muscle boys stumbled out of the room and back into their lives… with a little adjustment.<br />
<br />
“THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!!!” The Dr, fumed.<br />
<br />
“Possibility is infinite.” The stranger corrected. “All things are possible… very few are probable.”<br />
<br />
Hart’s hands slammed on the desk in futility “You don’t want to take me on.” Hart warned.<br />
<br />
“I’m tempted.” The stranger answered with a smile so cold that Hart had to suppress a shudder. “Unfortunately with lee and his “bud” back on track with a normal… if slightly modified life, my business here is concluded.” He knocked an errant blonde hair under is cap. “It would upset certain …balances for me to interfere further…but as I said…I’m tempted.”<br />
<br />
“You’re dead before you hit the street.” Dr. Hear Promised, searching the underside of his desk for a panic button.<br />
<br />
“Tread carefully. The only reason you’re not a potted fern right now, desperate trying to convert sunlight into chlorophyll is because I’m feeling merciful.”<br />
<br />
“what…?” Where was that damn button? <br />
<br />
The man in Black’s eyes grew distant and his brow sank into a dark scowl. “It gives me great comfort to know that there are darker souls then mine, that tread the night of this world. Doctor.”<br />
<br />
Of fuck the button! Heart spat, “This isn’t over… I’ll find you motherfucker… “We’ll meet again.”<br />
<br />
The black cap nodded and the face was a mystery underneath, “Yes. Most likely in Hell.”<br />
<br />
Heart Ranted and raved, “You can’t do this. This… this…”<br />
<br />
“I think, I just did. Do keep up.”<br />
<br />
Dr. Heart trembled. “I don’t know what the fuck just went on here but I’m out 12 grand for those butt boys! I’m going to make you pay! I won’t forget this!!!”<br />
<br />
The stranger made a quick motion with his left hand, “I think you just did. Do keep up.”<br />
<br />
Dr. Heart Blinked. He felt out of space for a minute. Like something had happened… like life had skipped like a CD. His head hurt and he had a nagging feeling something wasn’t right.<br />
<br />
“I said, is this the men’s room?” a strange man asked from the doorway.<br />
<br />
“Uh…no man… wrong place… the door is… is to the right….”<br />
<br />
The man nodded and shut the door, leaving the befuddled doctor to himself. <br />
<br />
He strode purposefully down the mirror-lined hall. The big bouncer stopped him halfway down the passage. “Yo buddy you ain’t supposed to be back here - just employees.” <br />
<br />
The stranger smiled. “That’s alright. I was just leaving.” And then the guy stepped right into the Mirror on his right. Just stepped right through it. Like it was a fucking window. He disappeared into the thin air.<br />
<br />
“HOLY FUCK!” <br />
<br />
One of the Doctor’s fuck boys came down the hall behind him. “What’s up man?”<br />
<br />
The bouncer turned to the muscled stripper. “Dude… Man… Damn… Man…. Dude this guy just walked into that MIRROR!”<br />
<br />
“Yeah…” The stripper laughed. He patted him on the shoulder, “Sure he did… Lay off the METH alright?”<br />
<br />
And then he went into the Doctor’s office leaving the bouncer to mutter to himself and the empty hallway.<br />
<br />
The Doc was behind his desk when the stripper walked in. “You wanted to see me sir?”<br />
<br />
The doc looked up, his eyes haunted. “Yeah, I think I’ve had a bad day. …”<br />
<br />
A glazed look came over the man’s eyes and he said reflexively, “I’m here to serve you master.”<br />
<br />
“I know boy. Now come over here and flex for me.”<br />
<br />
The big man stood in front of the desk and brandished his vein-covered arms. His face went pink with exertion as he tensed his biceps and held his breath in concentration. The doctor idly palmed the thick meat in the man’s tiny little thong.<br />
<br />
“Yeah it’s been a bad day…” the doctor decided. “But now you’re here boy and it’s going to get a lot better.” His hand suddenly squeezed the soft balls beneath the muscle boy’s rising member. The man crumbled in pain under the vicious grasp. “I’m going to make it all better by giving you some GOOD GRIEF…” The big muscle man writhed in tan and toned agony at the doctor’s feet. “You’d like that right…? Gino?”<br />
<br />
5. Stranger in a Pane<br />
<br />
Damien glided gracefully down from the gilded golden frame of HIS mirror. He walked casually onto the surface of the tar-lined rooftop… with much less alliteration. <br />
<br />
The Skyline of the city shimmered over his shoulder and the great towers of modern industry stretched around him. The tall ornate mirror stood in the center of his building’s rooftop, reflecting back the dark night sky.<br />
<br />
It was a testament to his ridiculous power that he could project himself over countless miles as easily as others would dial a cell phone. A testament to both the power…and the problem…<br />
<br />
Damien carelessly waved a hand and the shimmering surface of the glass returned to its natural state. He paused and reflected, both literally and figuratively.<br />
<br />
Mr. Heart? The Club? Ugh that…sleazy club…But that was a conundrum for another day. Right now, he had more pressing problems… He stroked his jaw and wondered idly if he had something to do with poor Lee’s current predicament. It was difficult to judge… he had only made an off hand comment to the boy… and hadn’t intended anything… He was very relieved he had decided to check up on the kid, he had had a nagging feeling like something might be wrong… he honestly hadn’t intended to affect the kid and still… Yet that seemed to be a reoccurring anomaly of late. Even when he wasn’t trying anything …things seemed to be happening anyway. It was taking his full concentration to NOT use his powers. He sighed darkly. It was his own fault really, his grandmother had always had one incessant warning for him and his sisters, (aside from, “always get the gentlemen’s name and address”) and that was: to use Magic is to become a conduit for power, the easier it becomes for you to use it, the easier it becomes for it to use you. Which brought him back to his current plight, “SPIT AND HADES” Damien swore.<br />
<br />
Power crackled under the surface of his mirror. His anger stoked the fire beneath his skin. The magical energies, which were barely in check, beat against the threshold of materialization.<br />
<br />
Damien Vaughn was in serious trouble.<br />
<br />
After breaking free of his prison and resuming the use of his magic’s, he had made a frightening discovery. He was too powerful. He could barely control the magic’s that he had once struggled to muster. Now, he feared that if he didn’t gain control of them…they would inevitably begin to control him. And that was why he was traipsing around the uncivilized world seeking advice from every hedge wizard, shaman, oracle and local mystic from Calcutta to West Virginia looking for help. Racking up the frequent flier miles and chasing bloody shadows… Shadows… Shadow… “DAMIEN VAUGN You old fool.” How could he have missed it? It was like ignoring the invisible runes on a door right in front of him! SHADOWS!!! He had destroyed all the original texts in the fire he set the night he left Gino… and even though his rare and priceless collection of antique scrolls, papyrus and manuscripts had been destroyed… there Shadows still existed… Every Witch kept a Book of Shadows… His or her own… cliff-notes version of spells and rituals. A book of personalized notes and thoughts to “shadow” the real texts… All he had to do was track down his notebooks and try to find some answer to his problem.<br />
<br />
And he knew just witch one to start with.<br />
<br />
He pulled a sleek black phone from his hoody pocket and dialed a familiar, if not often used number. Convention called for a misty crystal ball and not a cellular. Crystal ball’s however tended to get terrible reception when the sky was overcast and it was bloody awkward trying to leave a message. As it was, no one answered the Phone either. “HEY this is Ally - call back okay!” there was an infectious little giggle at the end. Damien rolled his eyes heavenward. She could be so cute it could make you simply want to vomit. But what else was he to expect from… “The Good Witch of the South.” “Listen up Galinda. You got something I want. So I’m going to come down for a visit. …Call me k?” There.<br />
<br />
He was all set for his next adventure. He could get back one of his books and have a quick visit with his youngest sister. Damien smiled triumphantly into the black, inky mirror pane! …… but felt his resolve wither at what he saw. The only recognizable feature that reflected back was his bright blue eyes. The rest was just dark shapes and outlines. That was the danger of mirror magic… soon you began to loose yourself in the mirror. It had been months since Damien had seen a clear reflection of himself in ANY mirror… but that had not dissuaded him from using the mirrors…<br />
<br />
He had thought that it was very appropriate that he was dependant on his “Magic Mirror”. He was after all, when everything was said and done, a Wicked Queen.</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-73317777827511729092011-01-20T13:42:00.000-08:002011-01-20T18:49:25.622-08:008.) HEXFILES: Broan Ova Brayns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Chapter 1<br />
<br />
Ya Know, It Ain't Easy being me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
One Minute you're a morose little recluse college student with a bad attitude and flair for sarcasm.<br />
<br />
The next minute you're a morose college student with a bad attitude and a flair for black Magic...<br />
<br />
Still one more minute and your trapped inside a strangers life and you're a pleasant, jovial, mother friggin engaging even- bartender with a wide smile and a comforting shoulder.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Well at least the bartender's hat is only for today. Sometimes I vaguely remember that my normal headdress used to be a nice pointed black piece with the occasional spider hanging from it's brim.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
But that was what seemed a long time ago.<br />
<br />
If there was one skill I never mastered in life and I've mastered a lot, it's interacting with people in a service capacity. I'm not some snotty holier then though who would rather be on the receiving end of the service with a smile either. I'm the kind of guy who gets embarrassed when a waitress looks like her trays to heavy or the cabbie calls me sir. Now I certainly don't like the way these God Damn law students keep looking at me like later I should be pulling them around in a rickshaw or mucking out the stables while singing a spirited native song.<br />
<br />
It might be the fact that I hate the service industry or it may be just the fact that I despise....since people in my position aren't technically supposed to hate...so despise is about as emphatic as I'm aloud. So anyway I despise Law students especially of the ivy league variety. I think people who go to ivy league schools and wear little emblems are the kind of people who put Martha Stewart in charge of style in this county....you got it white people.<br />
<br />
And that's no joke, there are three black men in this room and no black women, now compare that to the listed two hundred that I'm supposedly serving.<br />
<br />
I thought preppy law students with smug grin's and callous attitudes were the congregation of 80's TV stereotyping the yuppie generation. Turns out LA Law was right -these bastards really do exist. And they were existing all around me. Tight fisted trust fund babies with names like, Brad and Douglas, knocking back imported beer and speaking about the economy the way most people discuss the climate in far away places, like Uganda or Paraguay. Maybe I'm just a little testy because the silver spoon hasn't exactly been dipping into my tip jar, which I might take to shaking like a dehydrated prisoner praying for rain outside his cell window.<br />
<br />
I need the money it's just embarrassing my day gig at the gym isn't exactly paying the bills<br />
<br />
. Once upon a time, I can remember dimly, if this girl needed money well then hell she'd just spin straw into gold. That's one of the upsides of being a witch. Freed from the mortal burden of materialism. When you realize you can have anything you want you basically decide to give up competing on that plane and invest in a solid pair of boots and a comfy chair....and perhaps a flat screen TV and an open credit account at the neighborhood Deli.<br />
<br />
...But I haven't been that man in almost a year. He seems like some kind of fond memory of someone I used to know. And it's really stating to grieve me...<br />
<br />
Now I have to do ridiculous things like shlep beers to pampered ingrates for 6 hours of my Saturday night while I could be spending my evening doing something fun...like sleeping.<br />
<br />
It's not like my position here is really necessary. If the damn caterer had thought ahead and invested in beers with twist off caps, I wouldn't have a damn thing to do.<br />
<br />
"Oh Thank God at least the bartender's Hot." I heard a very forceful feminine voice say from behind me.<br />
<br />
I put the glass I was polishing down and turned. Oh good I get the opportunity to be hit on by yet another naive heterosexual girl. I mean aren't these girls supposed to be in law school? They're powers of deduction and reason are a little under developed if they're hitting on me.<br />
<br />
I'm young.<br />
<br />
I'm impeccably kept from my clean fingernails to my very discreetly styled eyebrows.<br />
<br />
Add that to the 220 lbs of six foot obsessively built muscle and my boy like charm.<br />
<br />
Yes, counselor the bartenders a fag, a big ole Mary to be exact -bark up another tree baby you ain't got the bone I'm looking for.<br />
<br />
The Two Girls who sat in front of me were cute college girl types...that's about as descriptive as I get with women. Their either cute, fat or honorable...honorable being the word I use when physical description would be unkind but that they have a nice personality. Women are like dead Air to me. Half the time I don't even notice they're in the room.<br />
<br />
The one girl was blonde with a shy unassuming smile and the other had dark hair and a sophisticated authority. I say it was sophisticated because she had more Gucci on then Tom Ford.<br />
<br />
"My name's Heather," She pointed to the cute girl with the humble but inviting smile, "that's Jody."<br />
<br />
"Hi," the little blonde waved.<br />
<br />
"Evening ladies what can I get for you tonight?"<br />
<br />
"Two Cosmopolitan's up, please."<br />
<br />
"right away." I knelt down into the bartenders well and began my vodka alchemy.<br />
<br />
The Dark Haired one, Heather, asked "Has anyone ever told you how striking your eyes are handsome.<br />
<br />
I looked up, "I'd be lying to you if told you no."<br />
<br />
I thought you'd say that." She said with a flip of her dark hair. She was laying it on pretty thick, and she seemed like a nice girl so I was putting a stop to this right now, "I appreciate it more when it comes from an intelligent woman like yourself." The smile got wider, oh well time to sink the knife in, "IT really sucks when you hear it from a sweaty guy on a dance floor whose pupils are so dilated he could see through solid steel."<br />
<br />
She considered my statement for a minute and then dropped her head onto the bar in grief. "I Knew it." She yelled furiously into her hands.<br />
<br />
Jody gave me a wink and giggled "I told you Heather."<br />
<br />
"Of Course he's GAY!" Heather said angrily, "HE's cute. HE's polite. And he hasn't given us that creepy shark look yet....UGH!"<br />
<br />
"Sorry" I said with a beaming smile.<br />
<br />
"It's alright." Jody giggled.<br />
<br />
"Great, why did I drink three martini's and squeeze into this skirt....I could be at home watching some crime show..." Heater said miserably.<br />
<br />
"There's plenty of guys here." I offered. None I'd let lay one hand on me ....but we were talking quantity not quality.<br />
<br />
"These rejects?" Heather asked incredulously. "oh yeah Line em up. Reformed high school losers more interested in bagging you now cause cooler guys got to do it in high school...Oh and trust fund babies with silver spoons...Whoopee. I can feel my ring finger itching already!"<br />
<br />
"Sore subject?" I asked with a bemused smile.<br />
<br />
"Very sore." Heather answered.<br />
<br />
"C'mon Heather let's just drink our drinks and go ho.....Holy Fuck!" Jodi's cute little head swung around faster then a bullet. She quickly hid her head in her hands. "I thought you said he wasn't going to be here!" she snarled.<br />
<br />
Heather turned and started to apologize as she looked into the mingling crowd. "Oh God Jo...they said he'd be at his parent's house in California."<br />
<br />
In no time the girls were joined in front of me by what I must admit were to incredibly attractive men. Both tall with crisp clothes and haircuts. I could tell right away though that there was something wrong with them. To much white in the smile. There's something about a toothy Cheshire grin from a twenty something that makes me think of Martha's vineyard and weekends at Hianous port.<br />
<br />
They were I guess the same height about 6 foot. One had dark auburn hair falling to his ears, the other dark locks that were gelled into a smooth arc from his forehead to the back of his neck.<br />
<br />
Pretty.<br />
<br />
Very pretty.<br />
<br />
They were definitely tapping into a very Ben affleck Mat Damon kinda vibe.<br />
<br />
It was like to soap opera Lothario's just fell into my lap, and I could tell because my lap was purposefully responding.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Heather, Jodi, I didn't expect to see you here." The brown doe eyed boy said oozing charm all over my bar.<br />
<br />
"Or so much of you," the dark haired boy murmured slyly.<br />
<br />
Both girls stared ahead, unmoving.<br />
<br />
"Go away Kyle." Jodi asked not turning to them.<br />
<br />
Both boys casually ignored me. Then again there kind usually do, it's best to ignore the HELP. The brunette, obviously Kyle, put his hand on her shoulder, "Aww c'mon Jodi, I haven't seen you since that party at The SIGMA house, and you left so quickly that I never got to say goodbye."<br />
<br />
Jodi fixed Kyle with an icy glare, "I'm sorry the paramedic's were in such a rush to pump my stomach I forgot."<br />
<br />
Kyle's confidant eyes seemed to wince a little but he quickly recovered, "That was such a shame, why don't you let me and Chris buy you a drink as penance, " he pleaded cajolingly.<br />
<br />
That was apparently Heather's breaking pint. She turned her stool and rounded on the poster boys. "Why so you can doctor them again? what do you think we are idiots!" She fumed. "Get away right now Pussy."<br />
<br />
Kyle's eyes darkened, "I don't know what your talking about."<br />
<br />
"Like hell you don't."<br />
<br />
Dark haired Chris interceded at that point, "C'mon Kyle, we're obviously interrupting them, lets sit down I'm hungry."<br />
<br />
Kyle smiled again looking for all the world like an angelic little rugby player, "Yeah I bet their on the job. The way their dressed their probably meeting a Client." He laughed.<br />
<br />
Chris laughed right along, "Yeah gotta pay for books some way."<br />
<br />
Heather fumed, "You can't treat me like..."<br />
<br />
"A whore?" Kyle offered. "I don't think anyone would blame me. Your sitting here advertising like white trash, using all that body to get attention."<br />
<br />
Chris slid up closer to her, his breath against her hairline, "Nothing wrong with it baby, you got all that shit, you gotta show it off...it's your job."<br />
<br />
"I've seen your Grades Heather," Kyle said putting a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, she in turn recoiled from his touch, "It's obviously all you good for. Function does follow form after all"<br />
<br />
And here I stood. Watching all this nonsense. And not doing a Damn thing. Why would I? It's none of my business I'm just the Bartender. Just your average every day shmoo with a glass and a rag. But something, that I thought had been locked away along time ago was waking up at the back of my mind. Blowing cobwebs off it's shackles and stirring.<br />
<br />
"You son of a bitch." Jodi swore.<br />
<br />
Chris looked over heather at her little blonde sidekick, "don't be jealous just cause you got the brains and she's got the tits Jo- I'd still fuck ya." Then he turned and grinned. "Only once, but id still fuck ya."<br />
<br />
"With what, that limp little dick, I don't think so, " she snorted.<br />
<br />
"Let's get out here," Kyle turned, "I'd stay but I obviously can't afford your price."<br />
<br />
"What gives you the right..." Heather accused her dark tresses shaking violently.<br />
<br />
Kyle Gave Heather an undisguised look of disgust, "If you don't want to be treated like a slut don't dress like one."<br />
<br />
Chris laughed leering at Heather's exposed flesh, "Yeah I can tell by that cover that your book's got lots of four letter words in it."<br />
<br />
"So stop being such a bitch and let me stick my bookmark in." Kyle laughed.<br />
<br />
Is this how straight people mate? It's quite disturbing.<br />
<br />
Heather seemed so shook that she just turned away and whispered, "Get away from me pig."<br />
<br />
If there's one thing I hate to see, is a strong woman forced by shame to crumble. It's just heartbreaking.<br />
<br />
"Let's roll -this Eye Candy is too expensive."<br />
<br />
And they both sauntered back into the throng.<br />
<br />
Heather grabbed her bag and ran to the ladies room, her mascara running down her face in black rivers.<br />
<br />
Jodi looked at me and sighed. I numbly handed her a new drink. "On the house" I offered.<br />
<br />
She smiled a wane smile and downed it. "they've been doing that shit for three years. Kyle and her went on one date, she turned him down, and we've had to sit through little scenes like that sporadically ever since."<br />
<br />
"No one's put a stop to it?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Kyle's parents are Alumni, Chris's won so many medals for track in under Grad that they got him his own trophy case at the school- me and Heather are just two poor little match girls on Scholarship."<br />
<br />
"Someone should do something." I said stupidly.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," she nodded already having resigned herself to the reality of the situation, that no one was going to. Those guys are to big for their britches and to smart for their own good."<br />
<br />
Her surrender to it was so sad that I turned away and came face to face with my own reflection in the liqueur cabinets glass surface.<br />
<br />
Crystal blue eyes stared back at me.<br />
<br />
Someone should....I should...but how?<br />
<br />
Snap. Crackle. POP.<br />
<br />
And then I smiled.<br />
<br />
Now to say that I snapped would give you an undue feeling that I had taken a turn for the worse, that's simply not true-<br />
<br />
I just suddenly got it together to admit who and what<br />
<br />
I was. Breaking surface and back into reality.<br />
<br />
Like I had just broken a Spell.<br />
<br />
What the fuck?<br />
<br />
I mean really what the fuck?<br />
<br />
What the hell have I been doing for the past year?<br />
<br />
I was suddenly back in full control, seems like that was just the kiss my fairy princess ass needed.<br />
<br />
And now I had to thank Kyle and Chris the only way I knew how...<br />
<br />
And then I merrily dropped the glass I was holding, right to the floor. "Jody, if you'll excuse me, it seems I have work to do." I irritably rubbed the stubble on my head.<br />
<br />
Shaved hair? Where the fuck was all my hair? "And change into something more comfortable." I added.<br />
<br />
She just watched me as I wandered away. My mind over brimming with knowledge I had locked away so long ago.<br />
<br />
I made my way towards the door, frantic servers, ran passed me as I strode purposefully towards the men's room. People looked at me strangely as I went directly to the sinks and their large mirrors.<br />
<br />
Just like riding a bike. Sure there wasn't any fox root or nightshade for me to use like the proper spell would have required......but you work with what you have. Vaults opened in my mind. Long locked doors swinging open with exuberant squeals.<br />
<br />
I though quickly rummaging through, old hex's, dead religion, and ancient languages. For a moment I considered a rather nasty Syrian enchantment but that was just me trying to show off my education after several months of gross misuse. Instead an idea formed in my mind, and the harsh rasping guttural words of an old gypsy charm took shape. A curse from one of the caravans that called eastern Prussia Home...<br />
<br />
I chuckled in spite of myself....there's that gleeful megalomaniac I remembered.<br />
<br />
Faucets turned on by themselves, glass broke, and the lights began to flicker and to undulate. The customers busy with their localized catastrophe and escaping it, didn't hear me quietly muttering old languages that filled my head like an unleashed river.. I thought of the spell as I concentrated on their..."Reward".<br />
<br />
Too big for their britches...huh I'll show them too Big.<br />
<br />
Too smart for their own good....I'll show them too smart.<br />
<br />
Ugh but first, to do something about this image staring back at me. The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive Titles · Authors · Categories · Readers' Picks · What's New · Make a Donation ><br />
<br />
Hex-files #1: Broan Ova Brayns Chapter 2 Kyle and Chris strutted happily to the parking lot<br />
<br />
"So, did she say she could get me a friend?" Chris was almost begging.<br />
<br />
"Relax, Chris she gave me her number I'll call her first thing tomorrow and set something up." He turned the small piece of paper over in his hands, a phone number and the name "Sherry" scrawled on it. "Night turned out just fine anyway." he said smugly.<br />
<br />
"Now you might just be calling the game before the final quarter." a whimsical voice said from in front of them.<br />
<br />
They both looked up stunned. The guy who stood before Kyle and Chris was tall with broad shoulders. He seemed to be muscular and compact, underneath his big red t-shirt and baggy red corduroy pants. He wore a fireball red ball cap backwards and two luminous blue eyes stared back at them from underneath. "howdy boys" he said in a musical deep voice.<br />
<br />
"who's that?" Chris whispered.<br />
<br />
"I don't know just ignore him man, probably some loser freshman." Kyle answered getting ready to slide into his jeep.<br />
<br />
"Beep, Beep, who got the keys to the jeep?" The guy smiled, "I do." He held up what looked like Kyle's keys tauntingly.<br />
<br />
"what the hell?" Kyle snapped looking into his now empty hands.<br />
<br />
"You gentlemen aren't going no where's, ya see." The man in red slurred as he came closer, strolling near them happily.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You boys should feel lucky, I got out of this business. Was going to get myself a nice little antique shop or something....but it seems whenever I try to get out," he brought his fists violently into his chest, "they pull me back in." he laughed to himself approvingly.<br />
<br />
"Kyle I think he's a lunatic, you know how the drug addicts in the city can be." Chris spat distastefully.<br />
<br />
"Look get aware from the car waste, or I'll set of my alarm and twenty cops will be here to take you back to the ward."<br />
<br />
"Yeah dude like all mental patient have as nice a dye job as me!" He laughed pulling off the hat to reveal a shock of industrial blonde hair. It was so light it could have been white except for a glint of maniacal yellow, an almost toxic blonde.<br />
<br />
The red clad figure stopped and juggled the keys idly. "Now what to do with you two. I've already decided of course but I do like to play with my food before I eat it."<br />
<br />
He flashed them a curiously feline grin that stretched his hard tanned jaw like the Cheshire Cat's.<br />
<br />
"I don't have time for this," Kyle grated in frustration.<br />
<br />
"Give over the keys freak." Chris snorted.<br />
<br />
"Me the freak? Ha! you don't know the meaning of the word. You boys treated those girls like bimbo's just cause of how they looked...and when you realized how dumb they weren't...You tried a more aggressive approach....So if your going to choose brawn over brains , then I'm going to leave you welcome to it."<br />
<br />
Kyle and Chris exchanged a quick glance of awkward disbelief, "That's it I'm calling a cop," Chris warned bringing his cell phone to his ear.<br />
<br />
"Fabulous idea!" The blonde exclaimed, "and then we just get the girls out here to tell them all about the Rohypnol cocktails u tried to douse em in at that party Jodi mentioned, and we'll be able to make the morning papers." he clapped happily.<br />
<br />
"Those cunts are lying!" Kyle yelled with the knee jerk response of the terminally guilty.<br />
<br />
"Yeah I'm sure,- alright, im done playing," The blonde hair fell in the guy's eyes and he sighed heavily, "bored now." Then his smile flashed again and his icy blue eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, "Oh yeah I still got it,"<br />
<br />
The wind picked up and howled around them, whipping the nearby leaves in a frenzy of movement. The blonde's hands swung into motion, and it seemed to the boys that he was orchestrating some wildly erratic symphony. He brought one tanned forearm down in a wicked slice and it was punctuated with a thunderclap.<br />
<br />
The wind died. The howl silenced, and Kyle's hand anxiously held his keys again, in a tentative grasp.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile the blonde had a look of undescribable joy on his face, He knocked his long bangs aside for a quick crystalline wink. He sauntered up to were the two men stood stock still. Both Kyle and Chris tried to flinch from him but found themselves rapt and immobile.<br />
<br />
A wicked look played across his face. He brought his hands up and caressed both their jawline, and in a harsh feigned accent he said "BIe...GG...EhR!" And then laughed bobbing away, "Be careful driving home...." and then spoke again in that guttural fake accent "White men from town ..."<br />
<br />
As Kyle and Chris climbed limply into the jeep, The guy in red slipped on his fireball ball cap and began to glide away on swift dancing feet,..."Back in business, and ain't it grand...let the good times roll..." His melodic baritone wafted passed the window....<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Ch 2 Kyle felt kind of light headed the next day. It was strange him and Chris coming home and going, right to bed. They usually spent half the night over cups of coffee and their limitless class work. But both of them seemed to tumble head first into bed without a thought.<br />
<br />
He completely ignored any thought but the over whelming urge to eat. HE bolted into the kitchen in a frenzy and found Chris awake and already devouring half the inhabitants of their fridge. Instinctively Kyle cracked about a dozen eggs and drank the whites down without a though and then grabbed for oatmeal. Ravening on half a container. He looked over numbly as Kyle began to attack a half of a chicken that had been leftover. Not even bothering to use a fork or knife.<br />
<br />
They ate in intent silence. Staring at their food. Both gorging themselves like underwear clad barbarians. Kyle could never remember being this hungry in his whole life.<br />
<br />
After they had almost decimated everything in their kitchen. They slumped into their chairs exhausted.<br />
<br />
Kyle had the naggin feeling he was supposed to be doing something.<br />
<br />
"What time is it?" it was the first time he talked all morning and his voice came out in a deep throaty rumble. He must be getting sick...<br />
<br />
"10:42" Chris answered not bothering to look at him.<br />
<br />
Kyle pounded up shaking the perpetual dullness in his head away, "we're going to be late man!"<br />
<br />
Chris turned to him confused, "For what?"<br />
<br />
Kyle couldn't remember, all he could really fathom out was that they were supposed to be somewhere and that he hadn't done any of his class work...He clapped his ands together in triumph, "Class!"<br />
<br />
"Oh yeah," Chris said.<br />
<br />
Kyle bounded into his room, Chris followed apprehensively, and then after sometime spoke up, "uhm....Kyle...I don't remember what classes I have today." he admitted.<br />
<br />
Kyle paused getting ready to lay into his friend about being stupid or lazy but found that he too couldn't quite figure out what classes were on his itinerary today..."Uh then we should just uhm take all our books...then at least we'll be ready for whatever..."<br />
<br />
"Great idea!"<br />
<br />
Kyle began to gather up all the text books that lay discarded around his room. Jesus their were so many! Did he really need all these...he must... He was packing a big heavy bag when Chris once again came into his room still only covered by the bare fabric of his white briefs, "Uh Kyle..." he wined.<br />
<br />
"What now!" Kyle asked, stepping carelessly on the bag with one heavy foot to make all the books fit.<br />
<br />
Chris looked down dejected, "I can't find anything to wear."<br />
<br />
"What?" Kyle asked as he continued violently pounding his precious books into the straining bag. "Something clean man," he explained, "put on something clean." that seemed right. And reasonable.<br />
<br />
"Nothing fits!"<br />
<br />
"huh?" He stopped attacking his expensive literature and then turned to his own closet, he picked up a polo and a button down. He didn't even have to pull them over his head to realize they were ridiculously to small, "did u shrink our stuff when you did the laundry?" he yelled.<br />
<br />
"No," and then Chris began to absently scratch his dangling bulge in thought, "uh...at least I don't think so.."<br />
<br />
"Shit." he swore. It took him the better part of an hour to rummage through discarded clothes, finally only able to fit into what had once been a baggy track suit. He gave Chris careful instructions, and he eventually too came back dressed, in close fitting sweats.<br />
<br />
"We're going to be so late," Kyle fumed as he heaved the bag onto his shoulders.<br />
<br />
"I feel funny Kyle," Chris told him.<br />
<br />
"Whatever dude just get in the goddamn jeep." he admittedly felt strange too but he was focused and ready to get out.<br />
<br />
They both got in the car, but Kyle found himself stupefied behind the steering wheel. He stared at it, and all the different gauges on the dash, tentatively touching his gear shift and testing the three pedals on the floor.<br />
<br />
Chris looked at him, "I think you have to put the key in first." he offered.<br />
<br />
Kyle breathed a vast sigh of relief that seemed to fill his chest deeper then it had ever been, "Thanks."<br />
<br />
He clumsily started the car and they were off.<br />
<br />
They drove into town in silence, Kyle went up and down various streets, turning and shifting but when they came to a sudden stop light, he turned to his friend in lost distraction, "Chris....uh where are we going?"<br />
<br />
Chris looked at him shocked, "I thought you knew."<br />
<br />
"I do Kyle" insisted then his brow dropped honestly, "I...just can't remember,"<br />
<br />
They sat at the stoplight lost in abject thought oblivious to the cars beeping behind them and swerving around them, drivers lifting single center digits into the air at them. The light changed about three times as they sat. Then Chris said, "Well we're dressed in our gym clothes...and we have a gym bag..."<br />
<br />
"We must be going to the gym!" Kyle agreed.<br />
<br />
"Great!"<br />
<br />
The gym seemed terribly different to Kyle as he went in. Machines he had once never understood, now beckoned to him. Nautilus systems that seemed to complicated were now beneath him.<br />
<br />
He and Chris spent what seemed like days pressing and lifting insane amounts of weight, which now seemed perfectly reasonable. He did however grow uncomfortable at the strange way the other people in the gym seemed to stare at them both as they moved around the free weight room.<br />
<br />
Their regular workouts had only ever consisted of purely ornamental weight lifting, more about impressing girls in sports bra's doing cardio then any actual strain.<br />
<br />
However the two boys felt possessed with a need to break every muscle group down to absolute failure. Which for some reason seemed almost impossible today. Neither really thought to question the amazing weight they were lifting, solely absorbed with the task of their titanic workout.<br />
<br />
Absorbed in a trance like state- they began Bench presses, adding 45's to the bar like they were 10's, growling and moaning as each catastrophic rep sent them into a painful mind numbing body euphoria.<br />
<br />
When their Chest's seemed to spurt fire- they merely switched the angle of the bench and the height of the bar and began lifting the impossible weight in an over head motion, collapsing their shoulders in strain.<br />
<br />
Kyle wanted to stop, was begging to stop but he couldn't let himself. He wanted more. He needed more pain. He was able to move his shoulder, that wasn't good enough.<br />
<br />
And still the strange attention continued. He now began to wonder if it wasn't from the roaring and screaming he and Kyle were directing at each other. So lost in pain and exertion that they didn't even hear anything but each others brutal animal urging. "GET IT UP PUNK!"<br />
<br />
"FUCKING HEFT THAT BAR PUSSY"<br />
<br />
Kyle had always thought that guys yelling and hollering at each other over their sets was juvenile and pubescent but for some reason he felt compelled to participate in it, and to his chagrin found his barely contained dick twitching every time he heard Chris's voice ring in his ears or when he would loudly berate Chris.<br />
<br />
"C'mon BITCH MY SISTER CAN LIFT MORE! PUSH THROUGH!"<br />
<br />
His embarrassment at the attention was however compounded when they were doing squats in the leg room. "One more!" Chris roared in his ear and in angry compliance, He squatted to the floor- the heavy bar hardly grasped in his shaking hands, he plowed back up and heard the sound of a terrible and audible tear. He fumbled the bar back onto the restraints, and turn toward the mirror. The Plastic fabric of his track pants hand ripped wide apart, leaving his brief covered ass uncovered by a long trench.<br />
<br />
"Shit. We gotta get outa here."<br />
<br />
Chris gave him sad little boy look, "But we haven't even done our hamstrings yet!?"<br />
<br />
"Dude everyone can see my ass."<br />
<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
"I'm leaving," Kyle snorted, his face flushing furiously.<br />
<br />
They hurried to the exit, knocking over magazines and vendor products on the way, "hey watch it big guy!" some guy warned as Kyle almost trampled him at the door.<br />
<br />
Kyle ignored him and fought for the privacy of his jeep.<br />
<br />
One inside the safety of the cab, sweating and disoriented Chris calmed down slightly. He was busy readjusting his pants, his cock having sprung to full life for some reason. His shame had somehow compounded with the energy of the intense workout to cause his groin to respond in full force. His rigid cock tented the track pants, and he had to control himself from touching it. The image of his ass being exposed from his exertion became strangely sexual.<br />
<br />
"I'm hungry." Chris demanded from beside him, also clumsily hiding an obvious erection.<br />
<br />
Kyle Lurched the Jeep forward awkwardly stumbling over the stick transmission...why were there so many pedals...were there always this many pedals?<br />
<br />
His own hunger began to overwhelm him and he stopped at the first store they passed, pulling haphazardly to the curb and then over it with the front wheel.<br />
<br />
They searched the poorly stocked store in search of sustenance...or as Kyle put it in a rumbling gurgle FOOD! Kyle wrapped a sweatshirt around his expose waist and struggled to tie it tight as they went in.<br />
<br />
They waded past the deli counter, thoughts of subs and sandwiches were quickly denied by his foggy brain...too many carbs, too much high fat protien/ It seemed odd...he'd always been happy with a few chips for lunch...But he now instinctively knew he NEEDED protien, pure muscle building genetic material.<br />
<br />
They unceremoniously grabbed two coffee cups and began breaking eggs into them, discarding the yellow suns of the yolk into a trash can. They grabbed handfuls of protein bars and headed to the counter with the empty egg cartons.<br />
<br />
The girl at the counter looked wearily at the empty cartons but rang them through anyway.<br />
<br />
Kyle felt a light up draft under his sweatshirt..."We got to get some new clothes," he announced to Chris who was absorbed in the magazine rack.<br />
<br />
"These guys dress like this." Chris offered. Staring at a magazine called, "M-U-S-C-L-E M-A-G"<br />
<br />
Kyle looked over his shoulder at pages of huge Guys demonstrating almost all the workouts they had just accomplished.<br />
<br />
"Maybe we should try and find some stuff like this?" Chris asked.<br />
<br />
"wow these guys do look like us!" Kyle agreed.<br />
<br />
"Then we ought to dress like they do! I mean that's how we're supposed to dress like. And all our clothes don't fit for some reason." Chris reasoned slowly.<br />
<br />
It took their combined effort for almost an hour to puzzle out a retailer in the area and even then they had to ask stop and a bewildered sales girl at the desk of the convenience store for directions.<br />
<br />
They both squeezed into Kyle's Jeep, delts pressing together in the front bucket seats. "this car is too small."<br />
<br />
"No its not" Kyle provided, absently cupping his balls through the material of his sweats, "we're to big!" the both laughed hardily shaking the jeep and their squished together torso's.<br />
<br />
The store had the imposing figure of an impossibly built guy in neon lights in front. Kyle and Chris stared in awe of the imposing sign for about 20 minutes before numbly entering the store.<br />
<br />
A guy looked up from the counter in front, he gave them a look of expectation and awe. "Wow, good afternoon gentlemen."<br />
<br />
"Hi" the answered in unison and then giggled at their response.<br />
<br />
"What can I do for you guys? It's not often we get Professionals in here, this'll be a treat." he said.<br />
<br />
Kyle nodded dimly, professionals right. He must know that they were lawyers. He must be very smart.<br />
<br />
"We need new clothes," Chris stammered, "none of ours fit."<br />
<br />
The guy nodded knowingly, "I bet That's an occupational hazard for beasts like you two."<br />
<br />
Chris gave him a blank look back, "occu? Wha?"<br />
<br />
"Let me show you some of the gear we have in double XL," he said brushing it off.<br />
<br />
The clothes the guy showed them seemed to be somehow wrong to Kyle but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. For one thing the were so...bright. And it seemed like everything was from this place called GOLDSGYM, he'd never heard of that label before.<br />
<br />
He however differed to the man's opinion out of a deep need to get into anything but his ripped track pants.<br />
<br />
He grabbed some stuff the guy had offered and bolted to the swinging doors of a makeshift changing room. Kyle stripped and discarded his clothes and quickly legged himself into a pair of pants the guy gave him. At least he thought they were pants. But as he tugged them furiously up his leg, they clung to his skin like lycra. They were tights! The guy had handed him a pair of ridiculous red and black striped tights! What the fuck!<br />
<br />
He grabbed the red Stringy tant top on top of the pile. It was loose around him the strings reaching his abdomen leaving his chest completely exposed, the strings tantalizingly crossing over his nipples.<br />
<br />
He stormed out the small room and stood in horror at the scene in front of him. Chris apparently impatient had begun to change right in the middle of the store.<br />
<br />
Chris was knee deep in a pair of garish parachute pants, and bare chested. The salesman had his hands wrapped around Chris's firm member.<br />
<br />
"What the fuck!" Kyle yelled.<br />
<br />
Chris looked over his shoulder with a dopey grin, "He's measuring my in-seem."<br />
<br />
The guy coughed uncomfortably.<br />
<br />
"Let's just go," Kyle ordered. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something seemed to be terribly wrong with what Chris said, And stranger still he felt somewhat dejected that Chris got the guys attention instead of him, His own dick broad against the tight's.<br />
<br />
They picked up three cases of Shakes and headed to the counter. "You know if you guys would like a sponsor for your next competition I'm sure I could talk to one of my vendors."<br />
<br />
Kyle was perplexed. What was this guy talking about. "Ah sure..." Then he pulled out his check book. It took him three tries to get the check right. The numbers kept swimming around in front of him, making no sense. Then he even put down the wrong name, spelling the word Crunch instead.<br />
<br />
"Hey guys just to show how much I appreciate the patronage, You can have these at no cost." He pulled out to huge Weight belts, with wide front buckles. When he gave Chris his belt he gave the boy an affectionate pat on his ass. Chris smiled broadly. Then they both heaved their heavy clothes and protein filled bags over their shoulders and strutted out of the store like to prize steers.<br />
<br />
When they got outside, Kyle wandered aloud, "I wonder why he gave us these?' He said holding up the weight belt. The wide face of the Belt hada word emblazoned in big letters on the front- but Kyle disregarded and trudged on toward the jeep.<br />
<br />
Chris smiled that dim-witted smile he seemed to be sporting all day and grabbed at his rock hard cock through the ugly yellow and red pants, "You heard him...He said he liked my Patronage!"<br />
<br />
But Kyle was totally ignoring his groping and boasting.<br />
<br />
The barber pole and hanging Shop sign had caught Kyle's attention as soon as they had left the store. He couldn't take his eyes off it. The closer he got the more it seemed to catch hold of him until he and Chris were standing there in front of the shop window.<br />
<br />
Almost without a thought Kyle huddled Chris through the screen door and they both stood in silence in the doorway.<br />
<br />
"Hi there, bro. What can I do you for today?" said the barber. He was tall and wore a beat up canvas blouse and an old pair of boots.<br />
<br />
"I think I need a haircut," Kyle answered a bit reticently.<br />
<br />
"Well, that's what I'm here for," said the barber. "Get in the chair."<br />
<br />
Kyle lumbered over to the chair, discarding his new Gold's gym Sweatshirt on a nearby chair.<br />
<br />
At once he felt an incredible sense of relief. The barber spread a white cape over his tight t-shirt and wrapped a paper collar round his neck.<br />
<br />
"Wow you sure are a big guy huh?"<br />
<br />
"Uh-huh," said Kyle. His mind was foggy about that, but it felt so good to be off his feet- his hunches were screaming in pain from the dead lifts that morning.<br />
<br />
The Barber grabbed his scissors and electric razor and looked expectantly at Kyle through the mirror. Kyle just stared back numbly and in the drawn out pause scratched his balls through the cape.<br />
<br />
"The Barber gave him a quizzical look and then asked "so how do you want me to do?"<br />
<br />
"Uh Cut my hair" Kyle grunted back.<br />
<br />
Another long pause.<br />
<br />
The barber rolled his eyes, "how do you want me to cut it?" He asked patiently.<br />
<br />
Kyle fumbled with the thought for a moment and then craned his neck to look at Chris for help. Chris just shrugged his big shoulders, his delts rippling under the fabric of his wind breaker.... "er...With scissors I guess."<br />
<br />
The barber sighed irritably, "Look kid how do you usually get you hair styled." he said slowly.<br />
<br />
Kyle baulked at that- he tried to remember his last haircut but it seemed as if he couldn't get passed anything that happened before that morning. He strained his thought, his eyes full off concentration.<br />
<br />
The barber however was growing impatient. "Look tell you what, I've had guys like you come in before, I know exactly what your kind likes." he said with heavy tones of condescension.<br />
<br />
"Good." Kyle smiled. Happy to be over that hurdle, he didn't really want to have to stress about remembering his last haircut. He was so pleased that he didn't even notice the razor gently slicing off his long brown locks with villainous ease. The feeling of the razor's cold teeth against his scalp lulled Kyle into a pleasant stupor. He happily fell under the barber's spell and only switched every so often to readjust his seemingly permanent hard on.<br />
<br />
"Like it?"<br />
<br />
Kyle jerked back to reality and found a stranger staring at him from the mirror- his buddies had always called him a pretty-boy in the emasculating way guys demean each other. But now he could fine no sign of the pretty boy. He didn't even recognize the brute who stared back at him with a clenched jaw and surprised grimace. His hair had been almost completely shaved off down in a tight army crew. Their was however a sharp wedge of Brown spike right at the top of his skull. It made his whole face seem longer and wider, like that little patch of hair just stretched his face farther down all the way to his thick neck, that blended in with his wide jawline.<br />
<br />
It made him look almost apelike.<br />
<br />
"Wha....?" He started to protest.<br />
<br />
But the barber just began brushing the wisps off hair his big neck with a soft brush, "Yeah now you'll blend in with all the other Jar heads." he mumbled irritably.<br />
<br />
Jarhead. Yeah That's what it looked like. Like his big simian face was a huge jar protruding from his traps with the little patch of hair on top capping him off.<br />
<br />
"Me next!" Chris clapped idiotically behind them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
They didn't speak much on the way home. Neither could really think of anything to say. IT was actually getting hard to think at all.<br />
<br />
The crowded jeep ride back to their shared bachelor pad was eerily silent. Except for the incessant itching both men seemed to be occupied by. Chris and Kyle both seemed oddly fascinated by the polished smoothness of their stubbly skulls and irritably annoyed at the skin underneath their clothing. Kyle clawed at his hairy thigh, and Chris rubbed angrily at his lightly furred chest.<br />
<br />
They got through the front door and heaved their stuff into a corner. They ate in silence as well. Each man quietly downing two protein shakes mixed with a half dozen or so raw eggs, and chicken breast. They seemed insatiable.<br />
<br />
When they had finished their ravenous attack they sat down on their couch and tried to recover their bearings.<br />
<br />
Kyle was the first to speak, "I think we forgot to do something today."<br />
<br />
"Huh?" Chris looked up from his intense scratching of his darkly hairy calf.<br />
<br />
"Did we do everything we were supposed to day?"<br />
<br />
Chris considered it for awhile and then looked at his friend speculatively, "We went to the gym right?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah"<br />
<br />
A huge wave of relief played on Chris's face. "Good, I guess we did then."<br />
<br />
Kyle paused, "Yeah I guess but..." There was something else...something about anthro..or socio...something or other and the phone number of some little scrawny girl named....but he couldn't concentrate on anything but the itching, "Dammit!" he swore scathing his forearms with his fingernails.<br />
<br />
Chris stood up suddenly "We didn't' shave today!"<br />
<br />
Kyle considered it but then shook his head heavily, "No I shaved in the shower..."<br />
<br />
"Your face." Chris corrected.<br />
<br />
"Yeah."<br />
<br />
"But what about everything else?" he asked looking disgusted at his vieny arms.<br />
<br />
"What else."<br />
<br />
Chris turned and picked up one of the discarded magazines, "P-U-M-P" Kyle read the cover with a lot of effort, confused for some reason by the vowel sound of the letter U, "All these guys are all hairless...it's probably while we're itchin' so much dude-buddy!"<br />
<br />
It seemed like a ridiculous suggestion for a minute, but then ...it would stop the itching.<br />
<br />
The both numbly and somewhat reluctantly went to their shared bathroom. It was strange but the once spacious room now seemed cramped and uncomfortable with the two of them in their.<br />
<br />
"You're going to have to help me," Chris said sullenly as he uncapped the shaving foam and selected a razor," There are ah...some places I won't be able to reach." They turned on the hot shower letting the steam build, trying not to make eye contact with one another. It seemed that it should be truly fucking bizarre for both of them to be in their fucking skivvies with each other in the bathroom.<br />
<br />
Chris Leaned his frame against the wall of the bathroom with half bent with his legs straddling either side of the toilet. His legs spread wide and his body tensed with a soldiers precision. He had stripped down to his briefs, and Kyle was shocked at the sight of his buddy spread eagle and willing to let his buddy shave off all of his hair. Not just his chest or back. All of it. Kyle took a tentative stoke with the razor up the length of his friends thigh. Cutting a 3 inch swath of smoothness. It was electric. Just to see that rock hard pink skin hidden underneath all that obtrusive hair...<br />
<br />
Chris needed to be smooth. The hair was hiding such a hot body. Kyle was doing him a huge favor. He washed off the razor and continued his shaving in an inspired awe. Just watching the sanative skin undulating under his ministrations...it almost seemed to be relieved that the unnatural obstruction to it's perfection was gone.<br />
<br />
He finished with Chris's thigh and marveled at all the muscles that were there. How could you see all that rock hard sensual definition with all that fucking hair....it seemed like inside the steamy bathroom he was revealing who...what Chris really was.<br />
<br />
He hurriedly continued down the calf, Brushing long strokes down the curves of his friends vascular and straining hamstrings.<br />
<br />
He paused when he got to the foot, delicately shaving off even the light dusting on his toes and ankles. No hair anywhere! Smooth as rock.<br />
<br />
He sliced tufts of malignant hair from his friends other thigh. Gradually becoming disgusted at himself for not ever noticing it before. Why did he let himself and Chris get so Hairy and unkept?<br />
<br />
He grabbed a pair of scissors and began to attack the veritable forest under his friends pits. They needed to be smooth, the Delt and his Pec would be so much more defined. He linger over the sweet sanative untouched skin under his friends arm. Gently scratching away all the unwanted mess. He had the odd thought that he might look strange with no arm put hair.... but quickly rejected it. And then lovingly finished the other.<br />
<br />
He turned then to the light hair on Chris's shoulder blades, revealing each massive wing of his buddies back, "careful of the Acne..." Chris Mumbled. And for the first time Kyle noticed curious little red marks and the occasional large out break that dotted the stretched and touch skin.<br />
<br />
Chris then took the Razor from him and began to shave large trails down his chest. Kyle watched in rapt fascination as Chris denuded his tits of the dark hair. He didn't even realize he had begun to massage his massive hard on.<br />
<br />
Chris Finished his chest and his big Masculine tits stood out etched in rock solid skin. He smiled and sliced through his bunny trail. Even removing himself of the tantalizing treasure trail he had once secretly adored.<br />
<br />
He slid his own boxers down revealing a large swollen purple dick that seemed to ache with excitement. The cock wobbled in Front of Kyle's astonished eyes.<br />
<br />
Chris had just taken his dick out in front of him? He had never seen his friends Cock, yet their it was swaying in front of him like a thick tree in a heavy wind. Chris took the scissors from their resting place and started to tentatively trim the protruding bush of pubic hair.<br />
<br />
He then looked up at Kyle with pleading eyes. Kyle knew instinctively what to do. He took the razor, steadying one hand on Chris's granite hard abdomen he stroked down the taunt hump above his friends Cock. The razor slid over the hair with a satisfying grind, like shaving stubble from your head. He cleaned the wide crotch of all hair. Then a thought struck him. He carefully took Chris's balls in his hand. Wow...Behind the pointed barrier of Cock Chris's balls huddled close to the skin of his Body and Scrot, almost as if they had shrunk. Chris's Cock seemed so fucking huge and raging but his balls were noticeably smaller , riding high into his groin...leaving his dick to dangle like some great extending need.<br />
<br />
Kyle stared at the big hard dripping dick in his hand, stunned at the sexual rage it was stirring in him. "I think that's it..." he stammered.<br />
<br />
Chris looked approvingly at the beauty of his cut defined hairless torso. He played with the nipple on his chest openly. Tweaking them and running his hand up and down his Abs.<br />
<br />
His expression quickly changed though. "Not everything."<br />
<br />
He turned again and thrust his uncovered ass in the air. His big hands pulled his meaty ass cheeks apart.<br />
<br />
Two shaking hands grasped the soft muscular skin of Chris's Ass And Kyle roboticly Shaved away even the tiny hairs that lead down his crack. He wiped away the hair with a cloth, and found himself intrigued by the tender pink orifice he had just exposed. Almost on autopilot he licked one finger and began to tease Chris's asshole.<br />
<br />
Chris Moaned above him. Circling the hole with his wet digit, he tensed his legs and felt his cock jump as he plunged the finger down into the bowels of his buddies ass.<br />
<br />
He had finger fucked many a girl and now Chris began to react the same way any other chick would with his finger teasing her twat.<br />
<br />
His bulky legs began to twitch and he picked up Kyle's rhythm unconsciously fucking himself back onto his hand. with one finger skewering his friend's ass he palmed the large glutes, groping his ass.<br />
<br />
"Fuck..." Chris gasped. His hairless body gleaming in a sheen of sweat and the steam stinging his eyes. The hot equatorial dampness glistened off of him. His body heating up, reacting from the erotic stimulation. "I'm gonna...Fucking cum..." And then he did, his body shaking as the big heavy cock erupted onto the wall, untouched and undirected.<br />
<br />
Kyle felt his own swollen dick jump in his briefs as Chris's surrender to his orgasm.<br />
<br />
Later Chris shaved Kyle from head to toe...but he didn't remember that much....only that they both Came again.<br />
<br />
chapter 3<br />
<br />
He woke up, groggy and disoriented.<br />
<br />
Aww shit his head felt like mush. Where was he? He lifted an arm to feel his head but found himself hindered. Shit his arm was the size of a leg! His eyes focused on one huge bronze vein covered forearm, as big as a man's calf, and realized the friction between his massively bulging bicep and his jutting pecs and flared lats, were restraining his movement.<br />
<br />
He shifted what seemed to be an insane amount of weight to situated himself onside so he could touch his face. He lifted one leg to steady his knee and felt a keg of flesh flex beneath his thigh. The heavy barrel of muscle stretched and contracted like the hind legs of some huge beast. "Whaaa..." he groaned in a deep bovine voice that rumbled like a truck engine.<br />
<br />
He threw off the sheets in an impressive lurch of his arm that shot sensations of muscular pleasure to his groin. The large weight of his bicep dragging his arm down. He realized the sides of the bed were clear on either side of his massive body. Had the bed always been so small?<br />
<br />
That's when he saw it snaking out from beneath the massive ridges of his abs, and slightly dissented gut. From beneath the muscled pillars of his grotesquely large thighs and the sadistic cut of his groin. It was fucking huge. It was the hugest thing he had ever saw. So big and full. It had to be the width of a beer can and the length of a foot...or an ..inch whichever one was bigger, but fuck it was really big. He stared in aww at it. Amazed at it's girth and size. So big and proud sticking out like a muscle all it's own.<br />
<br />
He nervously put two huge vein dissected paws on it. "awwwww" he groaned in bright lustful pleasure. "so big" he smiled. He began to stroke and touch it while pinching his huge tits. . Wow they were so big and hard. And it felt so good to run his callused hands roughly against the sore and taunt skin of his pec. His whole hand couldn't even cover it. He started to slap the huge plates of muscle lightly listening to the satisfying thwack of the hard distended muscles of his chest.<br />
<br />
He sat tugging on his nipple and smacking his pecs for what seemed an eternity until he got the frightening feeling that something was terribly wrong.<br />
<br />
He catapulted his massive weight off the bed, and stood on unsure legs. The room was sparse....filled with empty space, except for a huge floor mirror that adorned one wall. In the mirror he saw a man.<br />
<br />
Or a monster.<br />
<br />
The creature reflected back at him most have been at least 300 lbs. Granite caves stretched into huge lumps of muscular thighs. A huge tear crested on his knee dissected with angry veins, so vascular they looked like pythons. They were at least 28 inches around.....and he remembered vaguely that was pant size he used to wear....<br />
<br />
The bulging hips lead into a thin waist that then ballooned upward in an impossible V. Thick corded Abdominal muscles stretched the skin of his stomach making his navel seem indiscernible.<br />
<br />
Pecs so big they felt cumbersome to hold up rested on top of the abdominal ridge . They were 58 inches easily. Broad with down turned nipples on the plump swollen muscle.<br />
<br />
He gingerly brushed one with a shaking hand and watched in horror as the huge muscles of his 22 inch biceps flexed with even the slightest movement. Even his forearms seemed huge, easily the weight and size of a regular man's calf muscle.<br />
<br />
His delts stretched outward impossibly making him look ridiculously to heavy. They lead into two swollen arching traps that met his jaw more then his thick neck.<br />
<br />
The muscles were all so unrealistic, unnatural they couldn't be described as anything but obscene<br />
<br />
The face....The face wasn't his. It was some Frankenstein version of his face. Ape like and primal. A heavy brow line hung like a roof over his square and jutting lantern jaw. A bold nose and sunken dim witted eyes stared back at him. His petulant lips were a gape, but then they always were...weren't they? Parted slightly so he could easily breath through his mouth. Being the slack jawed mouth breather he was....<br />
<br />
It was the look of animal like confusion that caught him. He ambled toward the mirror twisting and turning like a little monkey seeing himself in a pool of water.<br />
<br />
"Wah?" he mumbled. Then blinked...then screamed.<br />
<br />
"Whats all the noise dude-buddy?" A deep resonant bass boomed at him.<br />
<br />
He turned to see another huge muscle beast canter into the door.<br />
<br />
"Wha...What's going on?" He asked confused.<br />
<br />
"Not a lot, just woke up." the guy answered happily.<br />
<br />
He rubbed his head...he knew that he knew this other gargantuan man...but couldn't remember his name..."I...uh can't remember my name." He whimpered helplessly. The deep masculine voice sounded ridiculous with it's childish tone.<br />
<br />
The big beat considered for a moment.."hold on a sec!" he said and then bounded from the room. His big cock flopping back and forth as he tumbled away in his nakedness.<br />
<br />
With his friend gone, he slumped on the bed. Feeling the weight of his bat wing lats pull him down hard.<br />
<br />
"His was in my room!" his friend offered when he returned, He held up what he instantly recognized as weight belt. It had writing on the front but he couldn't quite make it out...his head was too foggy.<br />
<br />
"It says Flex!" he explained. "It was in my room, so it's gotta be mine...so I guess it's my name!" He reasoned with considerable effort, his own massive brow furrowing in simian effort.<br />
<br />
His friend looked at him in consternation, "Well that says "CRUNCH"," he said pointing to an identical belt by the bed. Then his eyes brightened "That's gotta be your name!" HE answered proudly.<br />
<br />
He turned the name over in his head. It did sound familiar, and if it was on his weight belt it hand to be his. His weight belt did seem like one of the most important pieces of clothes in his life. Before he had a chance to answer though his friend jumped outa the bed and ran out of the room. The big legs pounding on the floor like a buffalo stampede.<br />
<br />
"Crunch." He said while he rubbed his cock, and arched his back, stretching the gargantuan lats on the bed."crunch." it sounded so right. But he had a nagging idea that it was a stupid name. And that he was acting ridiculously stupid.<br />
<br />
His friend came bouncing back into the room sporting a twin belt that read "FLEX"<br />
<br />
He sat upright and smiled "You're Flex!" he yelled impressed at his own discovery.<br />
<br />
"YEAH!" he smiled, he sighed a heavy sigh of relief, "Shit I'm glad we figured that out!" he exclaimed.<br />
<br />
"But...I don't understand Flex this all feels so..." His bovine voice was interrupted by a few short quick raps on the door.<br />
<br />
They looked at each other in silent confusion.<br />
<br />
"What should we do?" Crunch asked?<br />
<br />
Flex shrugged his massive shoulders his Delts and traps jumping up like uprooted boulders, "Answer it...I guess?"<br />
<br />
They shuffled into the living room ,and stared at the door like deer in head lights. Not moving except for the absent twitch of muscles spasming.<br />
<br />
The knock came again, and the faint sound of someone impatiantly tapping a foot.<br />
<br />
Flex swung the door open, Outside their apartment stood a young man dressed in a red t-shirt and fire red trousers, "Avon calling."<br />
<br />
Flex said simply, "We don't know nobody named Avon."<br />
<br />
The Blonde stared him up and down and patted his cheek affectionately, "you're not too bright, " He paused, "I like that In a man...now Cri...er...Flex....why don't you give me and Crunch here a minute or two of privacy."<br />
<br />
Flex gave him a long look of incomprehension, probably puzzling out the meaning of the word privacy.<br />
<br />
"Go in the other room Jar Head," He commanded exasperatedly, shutting the door behind him.<br />
<br />
Flex began to shuffle off in the direction of the kitchen, his huge quads brushing together and his dissented arms swinging lazily against his Lats. He giggled the whole way repeating the word "jar head" under his breath.<br />
<br />
"Now Crunch...." the blonde began looking pointedly at the mountain on his other side. The blue eyes peered up at him from beneath the frame of his huge Pecs.<br />
<br />
Crunch shook his head back and forth, forcing his traps to seize up and down, "That's not my name....my name is..." He stammered in his throaty bovine voice.<br />
<br />
"Oh but I think it is," The blonde replied and then casually plopped himself down on the nearest couch. "You've got a strong will Ky...er ..Crunch couple that with the fact that I'm sorely out of practice, It just makes it necessary for me to finish this off myself."<br />
<br />
A dim light of reason winked on in the back of his clouded and desperate mind. He remembered this guy he was at that restaurant...he..."What did you do to us." He asked in a plaintive child like rumble.<br />
<br />
"Nothing at all, nothing at all my boy...Now Crunch your all sweaty and pumped from rolling around with flex, wouldn't this be the perfect time for you to pose and flex? Why don't you do that for me."<br />
<br />
His heart leaped in his chest and he had to fight the urge to spread his arms into a double bicep, "No, I don't wanna" he wined half heartedly.<br />
<br />
There was a glint of steel in those luminous blue eyes, "Of course you do? With a body like that what are you going to do except for show it off?" he paused and then his voice came out very steady and deliberate, "You love to show of your body. It's what you live for. What else are you good for crunch? I mean with that massive freaky musclebound flesh sculpture your just begging to be treated like a piece of meat."<br />
<br />
Crunch's stomach growled, " meat..." he mumbled inaudibly, then he realized that the guy was right. He did want to show off. He put his calf in front of him and wobbled his quad muscles back and forth, watching the sinewy muscles bounce from on side of his knee to the other. As his muscles bulged under his ministrations to expose them, memories began to usher into his head unbidden...Stage lights, announcers, a throbbing back beat behind him on shaky speakers. Lights burning down from above as he lurched across a stage bouncing his pecs, flexing his triceps behind his back, His tiny little posing pouch straining against his hungry cock, dangling between his wide stance as he pulsed his glutes for the audience. Flex spray painting his body, cans discarded on the floor beside him, as flex tried to cover every ridge of his gross mass. Spraying the distorted mass of his neck and happily patting the little silken posing pouch and telling him what a good show he was going to make for the judges.<br />
<br />
He curled one arm up in an impossible pose bending at his trunk waist to smile at the blonde. He remembered leaning over the stall in the gym's bathroom as Flex shot his ass up full of His Gainer Stack. His cock rock hard an slapping against his abdomen in anticipation of the rush of knowing how huge the cocktail was going to make him. Grunting with furious expectation. Feeling the needle break the skin as he awkwardly attempted to massage his own shoulders.<br />
<br />
He remembered giving Flex the same shot, watching the huge hind muscles of his partners powerful ass twitch hungrily.<br />
<br />
"You see how nice it is when you don't fight it crunch?" The blonde whispered from the couch his eyes burning like sapphires on fire. "Now look a that big cock riding up out of your shorts..."<br />
<br />
Reflexively crunch followed the instructions and looked beyond his straining pectorals and the ridge of his bloated beer can like abdominal at the monster hard on that was poking from beneath the strained and torn fabric of his immaculate BVD's. "it's so big..." he mumbled.<br />
<br />
The blonde got up quickly moving gracefully to his shoulder, whispering in his ear with a sultry rasping seduction, "You know why crunch..."<br />
<br />
He shook his head no, in a childish scared awe.<br />
<br />
"Because That's where all your brains are now." He said with cold finality. "Their all stuck in there. All your undergraduate work...your BA in finance, and all your Law school education, filling up that massive boner That's stretching your ball sack like taffy...doesn't it feel so heavy crunch?"<br />
<br />
Crunch cumbersomely groped at the heavy cock, feeling its weight like it was an iron pole. "Yeah." he agreed in a horny weary grunt.<br />
<br />
"All that cocky smug intelligence all trapped in that heavy cock." There seemed to be a hidden smile in his sacrine dripping whisper.<br />
<br />
Crunch shook his head and stumbled dozily away from the taunting whispering. "No this isn't right...I'm smart...I'm A a Lawy-urhg...I'm not dumb...I'm not a muscle guy..."<br />
<br />
"Really?" The angelic blonde said from across the room, calmly tugging at one of the sleeves of his blazing red sweatshirt, "You certainly look like one."<br />
<br />
Crunch turned from the stranger and accidently looked right into the hallway mirror. He vaguely remembered a time when he would go their to tie his tie before his clerking job...but that wasn't right he never wore a tie...they were usually to small for his big neck, He remembered seeing the young aristocratic face of a pretty boy, smiling charmingly at the mirror in satisfaction. Now all he saw was a huge bodybuilder naked. His body defying nature with drug abuse and obsession. The shaggy brown bangs that once covered his forehead were gone. So was the expensive haircut he could barely remember. Now atop his hard herculean jaw and apelike forehead was a crisp military cut that left everything shaved but a bit of a wedge at the front, exaggerating his already simian like face.<br />
<br />
He looked around the apartment desperate to find some point of reference but instead of paperwork all he saw were fitness magazines and muscle porn.<br />
<br />
His shelves once filled with books were now lined with trophy's, sashes and belts that he could almost remember winning.<br />
<br />
The framed Bachelor of Mathematic's degree was replaced with a line of signed pictures. A row of posing bodybuilders smiled back at him with their well wishes scrawled across the front. He shambled over to them still absently stroking his heavy brain filled cock.<br />
<br />
He tried to reason out the messages that were written on the pictures, It was hard to decipher them, not because of the handwriting, but because all his brains were now in his throbbing cock. He had to painstakingly spell out each word phonetically. "Be-tt-er Luh-ck Ne-xt Ti-me, cuh-ruh-n-ch" and it was signed Jay cutler... He remembered meeting him at a competition and desperately begging for the autograph that hung before his eyes.<br />
<br />
"No," he half cried and slammed one big meaty fist down on an end table, breaking the legs and sending Flex magazines hurtling across the room. His massive form slumped against the wall and his heavy girth drug him to the floor where he pouted in an awkward sitting position. He tried to cross his legs, but his quads pumped and sand bag like refused be comfortable tumbling over each other. He tried to put his head in his big hands but his biceps and his lats were swelled and restricted his movement. He gave up and absently let his huge arms cradle against this sides while his giant hands fondled his BVD's. He was crying now, big tears rolling down his gargantuan jawline and his already heavy brow furrowed in deep frustration, "I'm not ah dumb body build-ah I'm a Lawy-urgh, I'm Smart and cool and have lots of smarh-t freinds." He said to the his blonde tormenter in an accusatory voice that rumbled like a bull's roar. "This Ain't Fair. You did this to me."<br />
<br />
"Well, Duh?"<br />
<br />
"Why" Crunch asked and then began to get distracted by the way his pec's were bouncing up and down from his agitation. They were just so big and when they twitched he could feel the muscles jump under his skin. The nipples down turned seemed to dance to the rhythm of his heavy breathing.<br />
<br />
The blonde smiled "Why not?"<br />
<br />
But crunch was already gone lost in his absent sexual body euphoria. Bouncing his huge 58 inch chest and now forcefully tugging on his big horse cock. "I'd be careful if I were you..." the blonde warned.<br />
<br />
Crunch looked up, bafflement on his exaggeratedly masculine mug.<br />
<br />
"Remember That's were all your brains are," he explained as if was talking to a child.<br />
<br />
"Oh no!" Crunch gasped, ripping his hands away and sending the vascular veins of his forearms into deep stressful pythons as he sat on his hands in fright. While his heavy ass contained his hungry hands he tried desperately to wrap his lingering memories around the foggy incoherent mass of his mind. Law school, Arithmetic, anything he could grab on to. The slight charismatic face of some guy named Kyle. All the while his musclebound body twitching in need.<br />
<br />
Then Flex came ambling out of the kitchen. He held two bits of cloth in his hand one orange and one green. "Hey dude-buddy, let's just lift here today!" he smiled stretching his broad cheeks widely and pointing to the well equipped weight rack and nautilus machine that sat where crunch could almost remember a dinning room table and antique liqueur case used to be.<br />
<br />
"You see," the boy in red explained to the prostrate giant, "Chris here has already excepted the fact that he's Flex...but then again that's the curse of a born follower."<br />
<br />
Flex was already haphazardly stripping out his torn briefs, rolling the strained fabric down over his vieny thighs with effort. He almost fell, his disastrous weight throwing him off balance as his bulky calves kicked out of the wasted material.<br />
<br />
Crunch was mesmerized watching his hulking partner. He gazed in rapt fascination as Flex's own rigidly hard cocked flopped around and jostling his balls as he stripped purposefully.<br />
<br />
The blonde gave hm a wicked grin, "poor Crunch," he mused, "You simply don't understand, Fundamental law of magic my boy, "Function follows Form, and your hulking form is only going to allow you an insignificant amount of...function." Crunch scrunched his eyes shut anxiously, trying not to think about the angry twitch dance his dick was doing under the waistband of his underpants. The blonde was confusing him with big words and he didn't like the feeling of somehow being completely retarded in the strangers presence. Although it did strange3ly send shivers of pleasure to his cock.<br />
<br />
He could here Flex's dim-witted rumble over the black darkness of his eyelids. "Yeah dude-buddy we can just slip on our posers, oil up and lift here, that'll be so hot, oh yeah..." there was a pause and then he said clinically, "we'll have to got to the gym this afternoon though we can't really do our leg work out here." He laughed a heavy uncontrolled roar at what he saw was an obvious joke.<br />
<br />
When Crunch reluctantly opened his eyes, Flex was standing in front of him. His arms were bowed with his fists resting on the cresting bones of his pubic ridge, a triumphant smile on his face. His big dick was now confined in what Crunch recognized as his favorite green posing strap. The green against the deep almost molten rock tan made the bulge at his waist seem as much pronounced as the huge bulges all over the rest of his monstrous frame.<br />
<br />
He held at the Orange poser happily.<br />
<br />
He recoiled from it like a viper, he slid further against the wall comically, this huge bodybuilding menace cringing and terrified, all the while the head of his bulbous cock waving from his crotch. He looked pleadingly to the blonde who seemed to be absently pruning his fingernails with his teeth. "Puh-lease make us back inta ...." he fought trying to remember what it was he used to be. His cavernous chest racked in a half sob.<br />
<br />
"No." the blonde answered politely and continued his grooming.<br />
<br />
Flex payed him no attention, "C'mon dude-buddy." he said, Rubbing his own hard Green slicked monster in anticipation, "you usually love doin this." Crunch watched the meaty hands slide up and down the shiny greased green material feeling his thighs twitch and his groin groan with the need to have the same slinky material encase his own cock in orange. He remembered the pride those lil bits of fabric gave him. It was his badge- he'd worked his whole life to be able to effortlessly put that one and look like it belonged on him. It was his reward.<br />
<br />
"Oh do get on with it ole' boy, I have appointment to keep today, gotta get my roots done- dontch know?" The blonde encouraged from the sidelines still gnawing intently on a fingernail.<br />
<br />
Crunch dumbly hefted his heavy weight into a half squat, his powerful thighs propelling him up, and he dimly took the orange slimy fabric from his partner.<br />
<br />
Flex grinned broader and his dick bounced.<br />
<br />
He felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, as he slipped the staff of his erect dick into the thin pouch. He felt incredibly better.<br />
<br />
"Wow, Crunch," the guy in red told him, "You look so big in that." His tone was a taunting.<br />
<br />
Flex immediately sensing the slight, brought up his right arm into a tight hold, "not bigger then me though!" He roared.<br />
<br />
"I dunno.." he said playing along.<br />
<br />
Crunch felt his big tits twitch with irritation, he squeezed his triceps tightly together behind his back with a dumb grin on his face, "No man I'm way bigger then you, " he spat.<br />
<br />
"O yeah!" Flex challenged getting close enough to push his own massive chest against crunches. A look of injured angry pride in his dull eyes.<br />
<br />
"Yeah!" Crunch snorted, brushing him back with the flex of one forearm.<br />
<br />
"Prove it!"<br />
<br />
And the they were rolling around on the ground. Crashing into each other like to colliding freight liners. Muscles tensing and dicks flopping against each other.<br />
<br />
They were an even match but Crunch gained the upper hand quickly, "You think your bigger then me huh bitch?" his delts ballooning and the striations of his chest straining in fury. His vascular Forearms pinned Flex to the floor. He was spitting the words. Long stings of glistening spit falling into the Deep crevice of Flex's massive Pecs.<br />
<br />
"You won't ever be fucking bigger then me!" He brought one huge leg up and kicked Flex to his side, roughly<br />
<br />
pulling at the taunt flesh of his Lats and Extensors.<br />
<br />
"C'mon man!" Flex Grunted beneath him.<br />
<br />
"C'mon what bitch!"<br />
<br />
"Fuck me man! Fuck me ! Split my fucking roid ass with you cock!" The plea shook Crunch down to his tread covered calves.<br />
<br />
"Get up!" he roared. Pull in on his dick like a madman. Fuck him? Fuck him? A guy? No he was gong to fuck a muscle beast, just like him. The thought hit him hard making his sweaty fist clench tighter on the hungry cock in his hand. Fuck a big Muscle head just like him. It would be like fucking his own huge glutes. Ramming his own Hot bodybuilder butt.<br />
<br />
Flex compliantly bent over the weight bench. His legs twitching furiously with anticipation making the big quads shake like firm tan jell-O.<br />
<br />
He fucked Flex's wide swollen ass in rage. Pounding his cock in and out with heavy smacks of his bloated pelvis into his friends hard glutes. He grunted over and over smacking and fucking like an animal. His dick plunging in and out as Flex's overdeveloped Ass chocked his cock like a muscular fist. One big hand rested on the perfect point of Flex's V like back. He watched in angry sexual lust as the hilly terrain of Flex's back knotted and unknotted under his weight.<br />
<br />
They were both moaning in a grunt like unison together. Lost completely in bestial sensation. Sweat racking unintelligent groans echoing and overlapping each other. This was who he was. Sweat muscle sex. His quad were on fire. But that was good. Pain was good. Pain made him grow. He was always in pain. Most peop-le didn't understand that professional bodybuilders spent 90% of the time in constant pain. From muscle growth, joint ache, or just stress from carrying the weight. Pain felt good.<br />
<br />
It felt good to give it to. To dominate this huge Muscle man under the weight of his cock. To fuck those big man cheeks till his buddy screamed like he was benching 420lbs. Fuck. Smack. Good. "Yell for me bitch"<br />
<br />
Flex rocked bakc and forth moaning like a defeated animal. His heart racing so fast he thought it would explode.<br />
<br />
But it as Crunch who exploded first.<br />
<br />
"NO" Crunch cried in shock as his seed jetted out of him like an unleashed fire hose, his spurting and convulsing cock spilling hot cum all over the floor and weight bench.<br />
<br />
The heavy confusion he had felt before settled in permanently over his consciousness.<br />
<br />
The poor brute had literally blown his brains out.<br />
<br />
He fell desperately to the floor trying to lick up the spent fluid. He pawed at the floor vainly and then gave up hyperventilating in fear.<br />
<br />
Flex obviously concerned about the sudden stop of his intense ass rape, turned around. Crunch was stupidly squatting staring forlornly at the small puddles on the hard wood floor. "What's wrong dude-buddy?" he rumbled.<br />
<br />
"My brains were in my dick!" He explained in a big gulp. Tears rolled down his cheeks like a heartbroken child.<br />
<br />
Flex being the simple creature he was didn't question the curious statement, "So?"<br />
<br />
"Now there all gone." he sniffed. As realization flooded in, or out as it was, Crunch felt a vast emptiness settle comfortably into his mind. It was not so much as the fog of before but instead an absence of anything else.<br />
<br />
"So? With Bod's like ours who needs em." he said with a massive shrug, and then smiled approvingly as he lurched into a stunning double bicep. Not getting the adulation he wanted, he began rubbing Crunch's Traps comfortingly, a lecherous look in his eyes.<br />
<br />
Crunch tried to argue but could find no flaw in his logic. He gladly instead embraced the emptiness in his mind. Giving in fully to the loss of all cognizant thought.<br />
<br />
"You just need a good work out." Flex further surmised, sliding his hand up and down the protruding ridge of Crunch's glutes. His hand slipping in and out of the hot space between his friends thighs and ass cheeks.<br />
<br />
Crunch suddenly flashed a toothy grin. "You're right dude!"<br />
<br />
"Of course I am!"<br />
<br />
Crunch considered it for a minute then threw his huge form onto his lifting partner, his Gym buddy, his lover, "I love you!" he announced. Pushing his thick jaw against flex's and ramming his tongue passed the other mans lips.<br />
<br />
They awkwardly pawed and groped each others distorted bodies, rolling on the ground like two over turned top heavy, rhinoceroses.<br />
<br />
They took the next hour to affectionately explore each others exaggerated musculature and profess over and over in the most unimaginative ways, their love for each other.<br />
<br />
When they had finally exhausted the possibilities of heavy petting, Flex convinced crunch that they should take their protein and head to the gym.<br />
<br />
As they struggled to stand, Chris had a fleeting thought that it was too bad they hadn't turned on their web cam during their wrestle and fuck, they usually got a record amount of hits on their site during those sessions.<br />
<br />
It didn't even occur to him to question why he knew he had a web cam or a muscle porn website. He was just glad as shit he did.<br />
<br />
They wandered into the living room, dicks hard as sail masts, and posing straps wrapped idly around their ankles. They stared confused at the blonde guy cat napping in their spare utilitarian living room.<br />
<br />
"Uhm we have to go to the gym, " Flex explained.<br />
<br />
The blonde slid his ball cap up and opened one eye. He smiled appraisingly at Crunch and flex, and then sat up, "Top notch" he smiled.<br />
<br />
He gave an appraising look to the two perfect examples of horrendously exaggerated masculinity. Crunch apparently bored already was absently crunching and relaxing his fists making his barrel like forearm muscles writhe and dance under his deep tan skin. He was obviously paying no attention to what was going, instead he was totally engrossed by the rhythmic tensing and relaxing of his muscles. The blonde smiled, he was the perfect Muscle head, A superbly conditioned, chemically altered paragon of Physical perfection, whose mind was unviolated by anything that could even remotely be considered thought.<br />
<br />
"I know just the place...."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Chapter 4<br />
<br />
Eddie was manning the membership desk irritably when the guy strolled in the front door.<br />
<br />
He was big about 6 '2 and had a broad shoulder line under his muffles of clothes. He wore a red leather bomber jacket with a red sweatshirt underneath. His pants were baggy jogging sweats, and his thick legs moved with a catlike grace underneath them. Against the white background of the snow storm outside he looked like a bonfire in a snow drift. He was hot. In more ways then one. His hair was almost as white as the flurries outside but glowed a hazy blonde in the light. It his tan face and square jaw in a length of white hot blonde flame. It was strange eve though winter was blasting it's best out there, there wasn't a single snow flake on him or hint of dampness. He took of his red ski gloves and shot a ray of piercing sky blue through his bangs.<br />
<br />
"Eddie , Eddie, long time no see- your looking as taunt and sculpted as ever," he said in a charming melodic baritone.<br />
<br />
Eddie just stared at the stranger in confusion as he brushed past him, "ah excuse me sir you can't go back there...only members..." But the guy bounded on, his size belying his agile whimsical step. Eddie positioned himself quickly before the stairs, "I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you up there I don't care who..."<br />
<br />
The blue eyes fixed on Eddie. "I have some business with Gino..."<br />
<br />
Eddie's eyes rolled, "Oh baby, Everybody has business with Gino , look I'm sure he meant to call you or whatever, "<br />
<br />
The mans white teeth showed through the bangs in a wolfine grin, "Eddie I have not fought through fire and flame to bandy words with the likes of you."<br />
<br />
Eddie continued to stare. The blonde tisked in disgust, "Damned Illiterate, Haven't thought to pick up a book yet huh? Eddie."<br />
<br />
Eddie looked at the man with irritated confusion. "Listen here sir," he said with snippy self-important tones, "This is a private gym and only members may enter if you want a day pass or a tour you can..."<br />
<br />
"Eddie," the blonde sighed wearily, "are you purposefully trying to vex me?"<br />
<br />
"Do I know you?"<br />
<br />
There was a moment of confusion in those clear blue eyes and then the guy began to laugh a hearty little chuckle. "I suppose not... you might have once but...well," he brushed aside the long blonde bangs and stretched his heavy shoulders rasing his arms above his head, craning his neck purposefully, " papa's got a brand new bag." he made the statement sound more like a challenging threat. The look in his eyes was vicious and begged rebuke.<br />
<br />
"oh well never mind, look, I don't have to go up anyway I just need to send my two buddies up to Gino- they need to talk to him about a job."<br />
<br />
The blonde motioned to the door and two huge ass bodybuilders huddled into the lobby- they were at least 6'4 and 650lbs between them. There were a lot of big guys in the 64st gym but these were olympian sized monstrosities, and despite the cold they were dressed like muscle heads from the 80's. One in a garish orange parachute pant and a string tank top that revealed his hugely proportioned pecs, the other in tights that hung to his huge quads in a bright green with a cut off grey sweatshirt over his big frame.<br />
<br />
"Jesus, who're those freaks?"<br />
<br />
The two behemoth high fived each other awkwardly with their bulky frames, "freaks" they cheered in a grunting roar.<br />
<br />
"He's Flex." the one in the tank offered stupidly.<br />
<br />
"He's crunch." The other said, then they pulled up their shirts to reveal two weight belts with the names emblazoned on a wide buckle. They seemed childishly proud to know there own names.<br />
<br />
The blonde smiled his viscous grin, "I believe my companions speak for themselves." He meandered toward them and they intern ambled toward him with an impressively quad disrupted wobbling gait. "Now you be good boys and give this to the nice Italian man when you see him, and remember to tell him what I told you." He instructed them in a slow purposeful voice.<br />
<br />
Their heavy subcranial brows furrowed in concentration. "Uh huh"<br />
<br />
"Good boys, now go ahead it's at the back, and don't get distracted."<br />
<br />
The Bodybuilders paused for a moment absorbing the instructions carefully.<br />
<br />
"Alright" said flex with a confidant shake of his thick vein pulsing neck. Then he pushed crunch forward, their heavy bodies swaying back and forth primally as they walked away.<br />
<br />
"Their asses are huge!" Eddie breathed foaming at the mouth as the four boulder sized glutes hunched away.<br />
<br />
"Everything about them is." The blonde nodded pulling on his gloves.<br />
<br />
Eddie turned to the stranger and asked in confusion, "hey how come ur not wet when those fucking Beasts were soaked,"<br />
<br />
The guy simply did a quick half turn and slyly danced toward the door in a quick sidestep, "because I'm Mr. Heat miser, I'm Mr. Green Christmas.... , I'm Mr 101..." The guy did one more quick agile red clad turned before he left the gym door. He gave Eddie one Icey blue wink before he dissappeared.<br />
<br />
And then it hit him like a brick.<br />
<br />
Eddie gave out a loud gasp.<br />
<br />
One of the sales girls wandered by and said, "Hey Ed, what's up, you look like you've seen a ghost."<br />
<br />
Eddie held onto the desk in shock, "O M G!" he swore, "Go tell Gino quick!"<br />
<br />
"Tell him what?" she asked sassily hand on hip,<br />
<br />
"Tell him, Tell him...That the Bitch is back."<br />
<br />
But Gino was already finding out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Flex and Crunch stood silently in front of a heavily muscled, deeply Mediterranean Italian man in long sleeved polo that accented his rock hard form. He looked at them in startled surprise from his glass topped desk. "Uhm a we's a need a job."<br />
<br />
The man seemed shocked his dark eyes looking a little wild at the two gargantuan men, "ah..." he said recovering from his shock, "my names Gino, I'm the manager."<br />
<br />
The two Ogres smiled and lifter their shirts revealing wide weight belts with names emblazoned on either one, "He's Flex!" the one with dark buzzed hair announced, and then the sandy colored brute pointed to his friend and said "He's Crunch, We're bodybuilders."<br />
<br />
"Obviously." Gino murmured.<br />
<br />
"Our friend brought us here to get a job," then the giant paused, Gino marveled at the do, they each had to be 310lbs of solid muscle, "He said we should warn you..."<br />
<br />
"About what/ Gino asked absently examining the swell of their huge backs above their impressively small waists.<br />
<br />
"He told us to tell you," crunch started in his throaty voice, and then continued haltingly, using all his mental effort to remember the simple instructions, "That We're so dumb... that It took a fire in the school to get us outa the Third Grade."<br />
<br />
Gino's dark eyes widened, a dark suspicion looming in his mind, "this guy who brought you here, was he dressed all in black and did he have long black hair?"<br />
<br />
Both Squatted veiny necks shook, "no."<br />
<br />
Gino sighed in relief, "oh well...uhm I guess the gym could really benefit from having two Professionals on staff. Are either of you certified trainers?"<br />
<br />
Their was another long pause as they both stared at him blankly. The pause continued until Flex Smiled, Flexing one big arm forcing his cutoff sweatshirt to recede to his cantaloupe sized Delts. "We're Bodybuilders!" He repeated stupidly as if that was some kind of answer to the question.<br />
<br />
"Yeah...you said that." This was strange, very strange. "Well if your not Trainers...I couldn't hire you at that rate...and the only other thing is maintenance..."<br />
<br />
"All we need is money for our rent and food." Flex offered.<br />
<br />
"And juice." Chris Finished.<br />
<br />
Gino was concerned, "Uhm gentleman the gym doesn't indorse drug abuse." They gave him that blank stare again. He knew he used to many big words.<br />
<br />
Crunch offered dumbly, "then we won't do it in doors, we'll do it at home."<br />
<br />
Gino stared at the two humongous goons in front of him. Not a Brain cell between them...and their dicks were ram rod hard. It was completely unnatural. They assured him that they could handle Sponsors for their "sport" and If he just gave them some money for working at the gym they'd be fine. Gino tried to tell them that they'd only be advisors to the trainers and that their jobs would largely be menial labor around the gym. Picking up weights...making Shakes...Monkey work. That seemed to make them even happier. He called Eddie in to give them a tour, and sent them off. Glad to be rid of their asinine Grinning mugs. And secretly jealous of the way they made him feel small and inferior compared to their gargantuan muscles.<br />
<br />
But before they left Crunch dropped a piece of paper on his desk, "He told us to give you this though..." And then they lumbered into their new life as Salaried Muscle eyesores and maintenance monkeys.<br />
<br />
Gino turned the small post card over in his hands, on the front of it was a field of fire, flame and molten pools of lava, a little devil was busy sunning himself and lounging by one of the lava pools. Big words read, "Wish you were here."<br />
<br />
He turned the card over and in an erratic script that he recognized all to well, was written, " Miss ME? Be Seeing you soon.... xoxoxoxo," He didn't need a signature to know who it was from.<br />
<br />
But before he could get the chance to examine the card further, he dropped it with a quick painful exhalation. His deep voice gasped in surprise. The Card seemed to get as cold as dry ice. It fell onto his desk and frost began to spread all over, covering the handwriting and images in a deep ice. And as suddenly as it froze it shattered into a thousand little Icicles.<br />
<br />
Such a show off.<br />
<br />
Well if he had any doubts, they were gone now.<br />
<br />
He shakingly picked up his desk phone, and with almost forced hands dialed a now all to familiar number, There was a pause, and then in a subdued voice he told the man on the other end, "Sir...You told me uhm to call...If HE ever came back...well I think he has...."<br />
<br />
There was another endless pause and then Gino answered submissively, "Yes Sir I know what to do."<br />
<br />
He put one confused hand on his head and rubbed his brow thoughtfully.<br />
<br />
Apparently Hell had frozen over, and that could mean only one thing-<br />
<br />
...Damien Vaughn was back</div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-24020768088527398362011-01-17T14:50:00.000-08:002011-01-17T14:51:16.856-08:002.) What's In a Name?<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename">Chapter One</div><div class="sitename"></div><div class="sitename"></div><div class="sitename"></div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div><div>Another night, another party Damien thought as he sat idly sipping his beer. He had unwilling let himself be dragged off to another party by his friend Alanna. He couldn't even count the number of times that he sat through hours of uneventful drinking at a friend's to only leave bored, horny and drunk. And tonight it seemed would be no major exception. Once again it was about 9 at night and he was already so bored out of his skull that he was beginning to mentally count the ceiling tiles in the small apartment living room, where he sat.<br />
Alanna and he had gone over to their friend Genie's apartment to drink and pass the time; it was a small one bedroom that she shared with her live in boyfriend Gabe. It wasn't much but it was home...well mostly it wasn't much. Genie was a clerk and Gabe was a mechanic so they made a modest living. Hell they were both only 22 so no one expected them to have matching suites at the plaza.<br />
They made a cute little couple as guy/girl pairings go, she was Egyptian and he was light Cuban. Genie was short and buxom with long dark hair, And Gabe was medium height, not tall but not short, he had the delicate features of face that made him seem more beautiful then handsome. His long eyelashes seemed to always hide his eyes flirtatiously. It was almost impossible to not find him attractive and Damien sure as hell agreed. He kept his hair in a tight buzz and trimmed hi beard in the thin lines of whiskers that outlined the jaw bone. His body was tight and compact and covered almost everywhere in a light coating of dark silky hair.<br />
Even thought they were both somewhat intelligent they were both a little too Ghetto for Damien's taste... but hey they bought the beer. Things began to liven up however when Gabe's best friend David came over with his girlfriend Teresa.<br />
Damien had already sunken so deep into his boredom that he was pounding back the beers so fast he would have put a frat boy to shame (his theory being: a drunken stupor would at least make the blur interesting) Then David and Teresa arrived. David's tall lean frame stood in the doorway "Yo Damien, I didn't know you were here." He said as he grabbed his hand and shook it.<br />
"Yep," He replied as he grabbed another beer. David turned to talk to Teresa, and Damien took the opportunity to scope David out. David was a tall Puerto-Rican man, with a honey complexion and the sinewy taunt muscles typical of tall men. His dark wavy hair was cut so short it was barely fuzz on his head. He drawled most of his words and walked with a thug's gait but he was basically a nice guy.<br />
However when he was drunk enough he would begin to talk about becoming a Rapper and that was quite unlikely considering he knew no one in the music business and Damien had never heard him Rap ...ever. Gabe's slightly smaller silhouette entered his frame of vision and Damien mused about how similar they looked both in baggy jeans tied at the waist with too big belts with boxer shorts that were exaggeratedly billowing at their waists. If it weren't for the difference in the color of their FUBU T-shirts and David's baseball cap the two of them would like they were dressed like twins. Damien thought archly "Now this would be a much cuter couple..." But both boys were in happy relationships with women and that was fine with Damien, that was just more guys for him.<br />
"Hey D, take it easy on the brew man, your drinkin' it likes it water." Gabe said with a smile crossing his all too pretty face. His voice was a rich deep masculine baritone that made Damien's head swim. Gabe oozed sexuality naturally and he was unaware that he was oozing it all over Damien.<br />
"Sorry We're late," Teresa apologized as she moved into the kitchen, "We would have been here sooner but David kept trying to teach the toddler next door how to say his name. God knows why."<br />
"Hey we don't know, he might be mine." David slyly added.<br />
"He best not be or I'll kill you fool." Teresa had no humor in her voice.<br />
"Gabe! We're running out of beer!" Genie's high-pitched voice wined from the kitchen.<br />
In response to her call Gabe rolled his eyes in disgust and said, "What's your point?"<br />
"Gabriel Jaurez, go get more!" she yelled.<br />
"I told you not to Call me that!" he said in a sudden flash of uncustomary anger. Gabe was perpetually calm always maintaining a level tone and demeanor. Very potent with his controlled low key manner.<br />
"Just go get more beer!" she said coming into the room with Teresa by her side.<br />
"Why don't you smartass?!"<br />
"Fine!" she said as she grabbed his car keys from his out stretched hand. "Teresa and I'll go." Teresa looked as if she might protest but followed Genie out the apartment door without comment,<br />
As the door shut Genie yelled back, "I'll be back soon Gabriel!"<br />
"I told you to knock that shit off!" Gabe yelled back.<br />
Alanna noticed the drama and asked interestedly, "What was that about?"<br />
Gabe looked like he didn't want to discuss it but gave in "She calls me Gabriel when she wants to piss me off."<br />
"Why's it piss you off it's your name." Damien asked feeling the effects of the many beers he had downed.<br />
"It sounds Queer I fuckin' hate it man."<br />
That sobered Damien up a little but. "Huh?"<br />
"I always hated the way my real name sounds it so funkin faggy, man. Makes me sound like some funkin flamer." He answered moodily.<br />
"No it does not," David said with mock sympathy "I think it sounds pretty Gabriel," he laughed raucously and began to repeat "Gay-briel" with exaggeratedly femininity.<br />
He kept laughing making Gabe even angrier "Knock it off man," and then he punched David hard in the shoulder, "How would you like it if I sat here and kept callin you Dah-veid?!" the elongated vowels of his name seemed to drain the humor from David's face. "Dah-veid sounds pretty queer too doesn't it?"<br />
"Yeah" he answered in a voice that sounded like he was just told he had a rare disease that ran in his family<br />
"Isn't this all a bit sophomoric?" Damien asked disgustedly.<br />
"Hey man how would you like everyone thinkin' your some fairy cocksucker because of your name." Shot back darkly.<br />
Damien looked at him flatly "Your name doesn't make you a cocksucker."<br />
"Yeah sucking dick does," Alanna said with a laugh, trying to alleviate the tension.<br />
"I just don't wanna have people think I'm a freak or nothin'" Gabe said dismissing the subject offhandedly.<br />
"Me neither" David agreed and they high fived one another in agreement.<br />
Damien and Gabe had always gotten along in the polite way you treat someone you like but don't really know. But now Damien was begging to dislike Gabe passionately "Are you Implying that you think being gay is a bad thing?"<br />
"No... I'm out right sayin it. I ain't some fag tryin to push up on other guys. Fags are freaks, all limp wrists... actin like bitches...it's ridiculous." Gabe's deep voice dripped ridicule.<br />
"That's stereo-typical bullshit. It's like saying all Irish people are drunks, all black guys are criminals and the entire Asian race is good at math."<br />
"C'mon there are two kinds of fags, hairdresser's and those muscle bound fairy's that look like superman but cry if they break damn nail." Gabe was going for the asshole grand prize.<br />
"Don't tell us you feel bad for the pillow-biters?" David asked with disbelief. Of Course he agreed. He was Gabe's sidekick he always let him make decisions for both of them and if Gabe thought something, it must be right.<br />
That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back "Could you go get me anther beer?" Damien said darkly without even turning his head to talk to Alanna.<br />
Anxious to leave the pressure of the conversation she quickly agreed and was in the kitchen out of earshot when Damien stood up uneasily. Maybe it was just the affects of the alcohol but he was feeling very self-righteous and a little tipsy. "So...you two He-men think that it's humiliating if people think your gay...because someone mispronounces your name?"<br />
Gabe and David were going to stand as well to meet Damien's withering gaze but found that they're bodies wouldn't respond.<br />
"Well If you think people think your name denotes homosexual tendencies then you two geniuses must be right, in fact boys whenever someone calls you Gabriel," he said leveling his finger at Gabe "and you Dah-vied" he said turning to point in turn at David " it'll MAKE you queer, and you two will be one cute little limp writsed, cocksucking couple!" Damien leveled his curse and it was sealed with a thunderclap and a flash of lightening. The lights in the apartment flickered and when they came back Gabe and David looked at Damien in confusion and fear.<br />
They both were still paralyzed were they sat and watched uncomprehendingly as Damien crossed the room and put on his jacket, "but you know what guys? I'm feelin' sportin' tonight, I think it's the booze," he did a quick turn and fell against the doorframe to steady himself, "yep it's the booze." he barked a laugh, "Anyway tell you what, If you two can make to let's say ...midnight...without someone calling you Gabriel or you Dah-vied ...oh... let's say 5 times," Damien chuckled at the nonchalantness of his arbitrary decisions "then the curse is over and your free to be as bigoted and stupid as your small little minds desire BUT if not It's rainbow flags and pride parades" He shut the door and stumbled and chuckled happily the whole way down the stairs.<br />
Left alone in the living room Gabe and David shook themselves as if they were both awaking from some dream..."What a fucking fruit man!" and laughed.<br />
"Crazy ass fag," David yelled angrily.<br />
Gabe stood up and looked around, "Who knew Damien was a flamer?"<br />
"Or psycho."<br />
"And what the fuck was all that shit about a curse and five times..." David said trying to clear the fog in his head.<br />
"I don't know but if that bitch wants to start making threats and shit we're gonna beat his pansy ass." The Gabe's deep voice menaced. His train of thought was broken however when he there was a loud sound from the street below, what the fuck was that?" both he and David rushed to the window to see what had happened. They pushed the wide heavy window screen up but when they stuck their heads out to inspect the scene all they saw was the quiet empty city street below. The apartment-lined street was almost unnaturally silent.<br />
Gabe was about to push David's probing head back so he could close the window again when Damien walked out of one of the shadows. "I almost forgot to thank you for the loving evening...Thank you Gabriel and thank you to Dah-vied," he said mockingly with a pronounced lisp, "it was just delicious!"<br />
David was going to hurl an insult but Damien seemed to disappear into the night. And then the window fell on his head. "OWW" he said rubbing his head. "What'd you do that for?"<br />
Gabe looked dumbfounded "I don't know it was just real heavy all of a sudden, sorry man."<br />
"It's alright. Don't worry about it." And then the strangest thing happened instead of patting Gabe's shoulder like he had intended he gave his ass a playful swat.<br />
"Hey man watch it!" and then Gabe went to punch David in the shoulder yet instead his fake punch landed as a weak effeminate smack. They stared at each other blankly. "All this fag melodrama must be getting to my head, I better sit down..." he started walking over to the couch but turned abruptly because David was laughing uproariously. "What?"<br />
"You crack me up!" he laughed.<br />
"Why man?"<br />
"Your crazy man," David continued with obvious humor. "You prancing around like that, it's hilarious you really looked like a drag queen or something. You should have did that when Damien was here it would have really heated him...hahaha."<br />
Gabe started to walk toward him "What the hell are you talking abou-..." and then he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror. He had simply intended to stride over and plant himself on the couch naturally. But his body seemed to have other ideas. His right arm was bent at the elbow and his hand hung delicately from his wrist. Instead of his usual gait every time he moved his legs rolled across each other, sliding his thighs over one another and sensually forcing his ass to stick out and his back to arch. Every step he took moved his ass suggestively while his left arm swished at his side following every movement with a languid flourish. In his mind he was walking and moving normally but when he watched himself he realized that he wasn't dictating his movements. "Man I must be letting this bullshit get to Me." he quickly with prissy steps rushed to the couch to sit down.<br />
"Don't let that freak psyche you out." His friend warned.<br />
"Oh I'm not," Gabe reasserted and then wiped the sweat from his brow, well he intended to wipe the sweat from his brow after a few seconds however he was fanning himself furiously with his fingertips. In response he stilled his hands and planted them both firmly on his knee, which was folded femininely in front of him over his other leg.<br />
David sat down next to him "Man calm the hell down, your head's playin tricks on you."<br />
"I guess your right." Then he looked at his friend of five years in disbelief because he had taken his chin in his hand and began to rub his thumb up and down Gabe's cheek comfortingly. "David get off me man!"<br />
"What oh, sorry my bad..."<br />
"Where's D?" Alanna's voice asked as she left the kitchen.<br />
"He got his panties in a ruffle and left." David told her.<br />
She set down her beers and gave them a dirty look, "What did you two assholes do?"<br />
"He got outa here while the getting's good and if he know's what's good for him he won't be comin' back." The severity of Gabe's threat however was lost due to the flagrant waving of his hands and shaking of his head.<br />
"Gabe your so crazy" Alanna laughed thinking he was making some joke, "but you know you should be careful around him, he studied all kinds of occult stuff in college, It was all pretty weird."<br />
"Fuck that! That's just bullshit" he looked to David, "right?"<br />
"Right?" and then they went to high five but like before something interfered and the gesture changed until both men stuck their hands in the air and snapped their fingers sassily.<br />
Alanna was rolling with laughter on her way back into the kitchen "You two really are actin like Gabriel and Dah-vied!" The door closed behind her.<br />
Gabe looked up urgently "what?"<br />
David started laughing "chill it's fine sweetheart..." and then his eyes mirrored urgency at realizing what he had said.<br />
"What did you just call me?" Gabe's voice asked but although it seemed like Gabe's there was now a slight difference his dark timber was still there only now overlaid with a whiny pitch and dramatic inflections.<br />
"I called you sweetheart." David appeared worried now, "But I'm not trying it Lover-boy."<br />
"Oh My god, this is like terrible. What's like wrong with us?" In his mind Gabe was reacting normally but actually he was jumping of the couch and waving his wildly. Every word he uttered was laced with theatrical flourishes that were extra-ordinarily uncharacteristic<br />
David tried to calm his nerves and steady himself. This was ridiculous. He was acting stupid. All he had to do was just think of what he was going to say before he said it. In his head he said, "alright man be cool, don't fall out." What he said was "Don't worry baby, Daddy'll take care of it."<br />
"Stop that!" Gabe cried! To his horror he now recognize that his voice hadn't just changed but he was speaking differently too. His ghetto lingo and speech had given way to a kind of valley girl dialect. "Girl-friend was telling the truth he did put a curse on us! We like have to get out of here before someone else says," Gabe threw his hands over his face with a squeak, "those names..."<br />
They got up and moved for the door "I'm right behind your tight ass, babe."<br />
Gabe rolled his eyes and made a clicking sound of disgust.<br />
"Wait" David said in shock, "Angel, your tight ass it looks bigger."<br />
"Bitch, why are you looking at my ass,"<br />
"Look Hon, something else is different..." David moved them both to the mirror. Gabe lifted his shirt up and turned to see his butt in the glass. David was right. His butt did seem to be pushing out his baggy jeans forcing his boxers to hold his ass cheeks snuggly. He had the beginnings of a pronounced bubble-butt. Not only that but his wavy hair was longer, almost two inches so.<br />
There were subtle changes in David too. His once angular shoulders now were a little wider stretching the orange fabric of his shirt.<br />
"We've got to get out of here!" and they ran toward the door, however at the apartment building entrance they ran into Genie and Teresa returning with more beer.<br />
"And just where do you think your going?" Genie asked testily.<br />
"Out of my way fish!" Gabe hissed as he moved past Genie.<br />
"Gabe Jaurez get back here right now!" she screamed. He stopped and he and his fleeing comrade turned guiltily. "What is wrong with you?"<br />
"Pardon-et-moi?" He answered and mentally cursed.<br />
Genie was laughing "What is with you? And what is with the I'm a little tea-pot thing?"<br />
Gabe was standing with his limp wrist handing loosely and a hand on his hip like a little teapot, in frustration he uttered "Look girl, I've got to put the heat on the curlers, I'll be back later." He and David began to escape hastily down the street. Leaving Genie furious in their wake.<br />
They were turning the corner when Genie called angrily after them "WHATEVER! BUT DON'T THINK YOUR GETTING INTO BED WITH ME TONIGHT, GABRIEL JAUREZ!" Gabe grabbed his side and slumped against a wall his vision blurring.<br />
"YOU EITHER DAH-VIED Dah-ling" Teresa's voice followed giggling.<br />
"Oh shit." David spat as he fell next to Gabe.</div></div><div class="mindthegap"><h3 class="chapter">Part Two</h3><div>They both came to at the same time and pushed themselves up, "Oh hell what do you think happened this time?" Gabe worried plaintively.<br />
"I dunno, let's just get out of here babe,"<br />
"Well something must have happened, I wonder what though?" Gabe mused fearfully as he brushed himself off.<br />
"LOOK AT ME!" David yelled looking at himself in a store window.<br />
"UH-OH!" Gabe screeched in horror when he glanced too. His once baggy jeans were now skin-tight, showing every curve of his toned Cuban body. His shirt was now a purple mesh see-through scrape of clothe that clung to his torso and cut off above his stomach revealing his lower abdomen tantalizingly. His cloths weren't the only thing that changed his ears were now dissected by hoops that stood out against his dark hair.<br />
David faired no better, maybe worse. No more jeans for him, now he was wearing black Leather pants that looked very uncomfortable. He had a simple white T-shirt on that fit him tightly. A black leather band was around his right bicep and his baseball cap was gone. If Gabe was disgusted by his new piercings, David must have been horrified by his. His ears were pierced many times and he had two eyebrow hoops. Worst of all his T-shirt couldn't hide that fact that his big mocha nipple's had rings hanging from their tips.<br />
"We'll get killed in this neighborhood dressed like this!" Gabe shrieked.<br />
"Let's just get to my apartment and lock the door." David begged. "Before someone we know sees us." <br />
"And tries to jump us." Gabe finished. They took off running in the direction of David's apartment. David ran swiftly but Gabe could only follow slowly. Like the kids he used to taunt in gym, he ran like a girl. And he was further hindered by the fact that every 10 seconds he had to stop and adjust his underwear.<br />
After he had stopped several times David turned around annoyed "Why do you keep stopping, lover? Get those cute little legs moving."<br />
"It's not my fault. I'm wearing this thong that keeps getting caught in my butt something fierce." Gabe complained while pulling on the too tight denim over his ass. "How comes your not having any problems?"<br />
"Well, what I'm wearing is built for running, stud."<br />
"Huh?"<br />
David blushed until his honey colored skin was bright red. "...A jock."<br />
Gabe laughed at his embarrassment, but his response ruined the sudden break of tension "Oh you go Ms. Thang."<br />
"Let's just go upstairs." David said as he walked through the door to his apartment building. As he climbed the leather pants rippled against his skin. "I hope none of the neighbor's see us."<br />
He was jingling his keys in his door when the neighboring door opened, a tall dark haired woman peered through, "Oh David You won't believe what..." she trailed off looking stunned at how he and Gabe were dressed, "you two go two costume party or something."<br />
Gabe was agitated. He dismissed her with an upraised hand "yeah sista that's what happened now go back inside."<br />
"Huh?"<br />
David opened the door "I'll talk to you tomorrow Lisa, me and my man have gotta get to bed..." Shit, that had to sound bad...<br />
Lisa was confused "I was just gonna tell you that..."<br />
"Mama, Mama Sleepy!" a little voice called from inside her apartment.<br />
She reached behind her and picked up a tawny skinned girl of about 2 years old. "She can say your name, now! You taught her."<br />
"Fan-Fucking-tastic," Gabe yelled as he stepped through the open door.<br />
The little girl giggled and said "Night night." Her childish speech impediment made it sound like Nie nie though.<br />
"I'll come see her tomorrow..." He promised as he was attempting to shut the door behind him.<br />
"Okay." The neighbor woman agreed.<br />
He thankfully closed the door, but not without a small tiny voice escaping into the apartment, "Nie Nie Dah-Vied."<br />
The door shut and David crumpled to the floor in pain, "Oh GOD" Gabe screamed in distress, "But she wasn't...I mean it was just a mispronunciation..." What could possibly happen now?<br />
A whole hell of a lot.<br />
When David stood Gabe just stared. The man didn't even look like David. There was a strong resemblance but... David's once lean frame was now bulging with slabs of muscle. The shirt which had already been confining now looked like a second skin as it covered his now huge pecs and outlined every crease in his rock hard Abs. His arms were huge guns of muscle the burst from his sleeves. His shoulders had Herculean proportions and a thousand ripples crossed his back with each movement. His new enormous musculature combined with his already tall height made him look like a mountain. He was massive. "I feel strange Gabe," he muttered shaking his head.<br />
"Well you certainly look it."<br />
David walked uneasily toward his bathroom. His new physique dictating new body language. He walked with a saunter because of the immense size of his thighs and the way they rubbed together. The way his overdeveloped arms hung off his torso forced him to sway from the waist and pushed his big round pecs out. He stopped and stared in wonder at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.<br />
"Don't worry David it's 11:22 we all have a half hour left to go, we just won't answer the door or the phone, and we'll be safe." He rationalized.<br />
His new body however was David's only concern. He watched himself turn and move in bizarre fascination. "Look at me..." He flexed his biceps and lumps the size of footballs shot up. "...I'm built like a tank." He continued to pose for himself in silent amazement.<br />
"Maybe you should lie down for awhile."<br />
"Shit baby check this shit out!" He said laughing. He ripped his shirt off with no effort and discarded the ripped fabric to examine his chest. His big hands roamed over his body like he was discovering every inch.<br />
"What's your problem?" Gabe asked in disgust. It was then that he noticed for the first time that etched all over David's skin were Tattoo's. There were dragons that laced up his arms and down his back and a hundred other designs that crisscrossed his mammoth chest. There were equal amounts of deep, rock hard, honey-tanned flesh and ink. "Look at yourself...your covered in Tats."<br />
He answered him absently while he stroked up and down one of the Chinese dragons that now adorned his forearm. "Pretty cool huh?"<br />
"Hell no!"<br />
"C'mon Gabe you gotta admit I look damn good." David's grin broke his face In two showing all of his white teeth. He grabbed his Pecs with both hands capturing only a fraction of their size. He started kneading the flesh between his fingers, causing his nipple rings to stimulate his quarter sized dark nipples.<br />
"Knock it off man so your muscle's are bigger, big deal" His friend said in growing alarm.<br />
He smiled back again but it was his sly smile, "that ain't the only thing that's bigger hot-stuff." He massaged his crotch suggestively.<br />
"Knock it off Dave, this is going to far."<br />
David turned back to the mirror ignoring the protests. Lost in the sexual haze that his new build had given him, he unbuckled the constricting leather pants and peeled them down to mid-thigh. He had been a boxer man since the age of thirteen but now his package was packed into a black jockstrap that barely contained it's girth. He was so lustfully distracted by this new development that he didn't notice his denuded crotch. <br />
From Gabe's view all he saw was the man who had once been a regular guy, his partner and boy, half naked enlarged back blocking all view of the bathroom, his pants around his knees and his muscular ass covered only by two black straps. "I'm getting out of here."<br />
That caught his attention he turned suddenly the head of his raging hard-on climbing out of the jock. David smiled, stroking his snaking erection "C'mon, You can't tell me your not curious about what would happen to you?"<br />
"Fuck no!" He lilted back.<br />
"I am." He smiled a dangerous sensual smile.<br />
Gabe wasn't about to find out what that meant. He got up and went to the door. His hand was on the knob when David said, "Don't leave ...Gabriel." <br />
"You bitch!" he accused cloyingly as his hand dropped from the doorknob. He leaned against the wall to steady himself. David leered at him hungrily.<br />
His head was dizzy as he pushed past the mountain of David's mass toward the mirror. When his thoughts steadied he fearfully looked in the mirror with hesitation. He had not undergone the extreme transformation that David had, but he had changed. His once average well put together body had become more developed leaving round mounds under his clothes. The opening over his waist showed the definition of his Abs, which were covered with his dark Cuban hair. He looked hairier all over in fact.<br />
His close cropped hair now fell in silky waves to his ears and he had to push a few arrant strands out of his eyes with a flick of his wrist and twirl of his head. In the light the shiny black hair glowed a deep red from colored highlights. His beautiful face seemed even more so, with exaggeratedly sensuous lips and high cheekbones. The Goatee now spread and not only traced his jawline it encircled his mouth in a delicate line of black whiskers. If he didn't know better he would have said he had eyeliner on...but men don't where makeup. He pushed his hands out in front of him and examined his meticulously manicured nails. "I don't think anything's that different."<br />
"I do," David said in a low voice. "Look at your ass."<br />
Gabe turned slowly and checks his reflection in the mirror. He had the most perfect Ass he had ever seen, he had always thought he had had a nice butt, he now had an amazing one. His jeans only magnified the beautiful sculpture of his big round ass. Gabe Jaurez had the kind of ass that stopped traffic. A bubble butt that no pants could hide. "Well hell damn..."<br />
"You look so hot..." David growled from behind him.<br />
Gabe put his hand behind his head and posed suggestively, "You think so, Popi?"<br />
All David did was arch and eyebrow, "Yeah," he pulled his pants off the rest of the way and walked toward Gabe. He got so close that Gabe could feel his rock hard cock pressing against his own burgeoning bulge behind the binding denim. "I want you to get the fuck out of those jeans."<br />
That woke him up, he realized in aversion what he was doing and tried to reason with his friend "David look at us we're like two bitches in heat we have to get away from each-" then poor Gabe made his fatal mistake he went to weakly push David away from him. However his hands landed on the immense solid muscle of his Pecs. He broke off in mid sentence as he became enthralled by the feeling of the hard man flesh beneath his fingers. He rubbed the big tits smoothly while David moaned deeply in pleasure.<br />
He in turn wrapped his arms around his friend and began rubbing the twin spheres of his ass keeping one meaty cheek in each hand. They stayed that way tentatively caressing each other until David unable to take it anymore, grabbed his partner fiercely "Now Get out of those damn clothes,"<br />
Gabe responded by shooting him a lecherous smile of lust that was once saved for his girlfriend. With all his past inhibitions gone and his new impulses taking over he began to strip himself erotically for the man in front of him. First he slipped of his shirt slowly, running his hands across his hairy stomach and then tweaking the nipple's of his square pecs, making them stand out against the forest of his dark chest hair.<br />
David watched in rapt desire, gripping his shaft absently.<br />
When he had pulled the shirt over his head he put his hands in his hair and started moving his hips to the rhythm of unheard music. He traced his bunny trail with both fingers and grabbed the button on his Jeans, all the while still powerfully gyrating his hips. He unfastened them and peeled one leg off and then the other stepping out of them.<br />
David realized why he had so much trouble running before. Nestled between the curve of his densely carpeted muscular thighs was exotic red thong, off set by the dark hair surrounding it. It was very small making his dick look ridiculously restricted and the thin sliver that dissected the beauty of his ass got lost almost immediately in the cleft of his luscious Latin ass. Gab bent over pushing his broad ass cheeks up and down into the air. "This is what you really wanted to see wasn't it Popi? You wanted get your hands on my Big Booty?" The sight of a well-toned man shoving his scantily clad ass into the air was the hottest thing David could ever remember seeing in his life. In a burst of wild erotic rashness he pushed his jock-covered crotch against the voluptuous coffee and cream colored flesh of his friend's backside. He pulled Gabe up effortlessly with the strength of one bulging bicep. He held him pressed closely to him, his chest to the other man's back. He whispered in his ear, "We were made for each other Lover, your big ass my big dick..."<br />
He Moaned "Aye Popi!"<br />
He spun the man whom he had always deferred to, scoped chicks out with, and mistakenly questioned the virtues of man sex with, until they were eye to eye and said, "Suck my Cock."<br />
There was no thought process. He immediately dropped to his knees and began recklessly licking and sucking on the fabric that hid the Cock and large balls that he desired. It turned him on all the more that this hunk was dominating him. After enough temptation Gabe needed to have his real goal he pulled down the jock and released the monster restrained behind it. He only looked at the perfection of the cock for a second before he speared his mouth on it with a moan of unfathomable pleasure. He just gorged himself on the girth of the pole surprising himself at the length he could take. He sucked deliriously with his big lips, his only thoughts of the dick he was worshipping. He let David's rod slip in and out of his mouth until his throat bulged with its tip and his clean- balls slapped against his Goatee. He just couldn't get enough, he wanted to slurp on the shaft, kiss the engorged head, and lick the heavy balls...the complete joy of being a cocksuscker consumed him.<br />
Suddenly David pulled away and Gabe was left with the crushing vacancy of an empty mouth, he looked up for the first time into the other man's eyes. David glared down at him in primal need, "Turn over I want to Fuck you baby."<br />
Flirtatiously he got off his knees. In a few saucy strides he planted his elbows on the back of the couch and shook his ass tauntingly. It was an erotic thrill to give into his lover's dominance and give in to his effeminate side and submissive side.<br />
The further titillation of Gabe's submissive behavior was too much. David had now entered a state of erotic stimulation he had never experienced before. He welcomed the foreign urges that had been dictating his actions. He was a man and he wanted a piece of his man's ass. He cupped the wide ass in both hands and with a grunt of raging sexual aggression he shoved his ravenous cock into the rose of the awaiting hole. <br />
Gabe cried out in pain and ecstasy beneath him. He had fucked many women but never did he know the pleasure he was missing. The rapture of being filled inside by hot dick. He craved this embrace feeling David ravage him over and over, reaming his open hole savagely. Feelings of of lustfuly enjoying letting another man use him and wanting to graciously comply were his nature. And with every thrust David pounded into him he fell in love more and more with these new feelings.<br />
"I love this hot ass," David snarled above him. With each lunge his thick thighs smashed against Gabe's hairy legs and sent shivers off pleasure through his entire body. As he Penetrated his best friend's butt he began to slap the flawless ass in time with his wild fucked.<br />
He Grunted and his lover moaned. When David finally could hold no more he grabbed Gabe's chest laying his hands against the course hair and roared as he exploded bolt after bolt of hot cum into the virgin hole. Gabe also spent and impossibly aroused blew his load in a fiery scream of passion.<br />
They crumpled to the couch together, and stared into each other's eyes for only a moment's hesitation before they locked mouths in a burning kiss.<br />
Gabe broke it and began to tease the hoop on David's nipple with his teeth, "I Love you Dah-vied,"<br />
David closed his eyes and ran his hands through his boyfriends hair, "I Love you too, Gabriel."<br />
For the rest of the evening they explored each other's bodies like they were just discovering them. They were so lost in their sexual adventure; neither man saw the clock strike 12:00.</div><div class="mindthegap">The next day Damien was nursing an awful hangover when Alanna called to tell him that there was going to be another get together that night. Damien groaned loudly but he reasoned they say the best cure to a hangover is to start drinking again right away.<br />
Alanna picked him up around 9. "Who's place are we going too anyway?"<br />
"David and Gabriel's." she said non-commentaly.<br />
"Who's?" he asked confused.<br />
"Dave and Gabe's!" Alanna repeated eyeing him strangely.<br />
"Don't you mean Genie and Gabe's?"<br />
She gave him another incredulous look, "why would Gabriel live with Genie?"<br />
"Alanna what's going..." just then they pulled up in front of a store in a neighborhood that was halfway across town from where Gabe and Genie's apartment was.<br />
"What are we doing here?"<br />
She was now irritated "Stop acting stupid! Now hurry up, you know how Gabriel is if we're late he throws a big fit and pouts all night."<br />
Damien shut the car door and walked toward the store. A large sign above the window read "Gabriel's: Stylists and Manicurists" an awful thought began to dawn on him. It was confirmed when he peered in the window and saw a huge hulking Hispanic body-builder and another Latin man, who was wearing a pair of daisy duke shorts and a half shirt, involved in a heated make out session on one of the styling chairs.<br />
He turned right around and put his hand in the air when he reached the curb.<br />
"Where are you going?" Alanna said exasperatedly.<br />
"My name's Damien and I have a problem, ...I'm never drinking again!" and with that he hailed a cab, returned to his apartment and went right to bed.</div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-68505403418820100192011-01-16T16:54:00.001-08:002011-01-17T14:53:55.454-08:006.) WATERLOO<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><strong><u>CHAPTER 1</u></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>The Waterloo was a dive. There was no mistaking that fact. It was a dying breed of bar, where the pool tables were darkly lit and the stench of beer and vinyl mixed with the bad attitude of the waitress, to recall an era of time gone by. It was the kind of bar where a barroom brawl was expected like clockwork, well it would have been if the bar wasn't almost completely vacant. The day of the Waterloo had come and past.<br />
Somewhere between 1983 and the present day the clientele of the Waterloo dwindle off to just a few hapless drunks off the streets. The days when heavy rockers would bring in their over hair sprayed girlfriends and drink like there was no tomorrow were gone. <br />
"If I have to work one more shift in this hell hole I'm going to stick my head in a god damn oven." Deana Said to no one in particular. <br />
"Tell ya what," came a heavy voice from the end of the bar, "I'll turn on the gas for ya if ya promise to kick me out of the nearest high rise window." Deana smiled at the joke and walked toward the disembodied voice. <br />
At the end of the bar sitting in the shadows was a cute college age guy with dark hair and bangs that hid his eyes. It seemed like his baggy black shirt was hiding a tight build but as he was almost completely slumped over the edge of the bar in misery she couldn't tell. "What do you have to complain about you DECIDED to drink here, I'm the one who has to punch a clock to keep these roaches company..."<br />
The guy put his head up and looked around for what must have been the first time since he came in, "yeah this place is a dive." He agreed and then slumped quickly back down in disinterest. "When you said roaches were you talking about insects or clientele?" he asked worriedly eyeing the floor. <br />
"It's a toss up." She said as she put down her tray of empty glasses and took the stool next to the kid. At 29 she could call him a kid. She had been working for so long she felt 62, she still had her looks even if she had put on a little weight to the front and back, that's one of the danger's of bussing people's orders around all day sooner or later you start to look like an actual bus. "What's your problem kiddo?"<br />
He sat up a little and looked at her through squinted considering eyes, his bangs moved and she was taken back by just how blue and almost dangerous those eyes seemed. But after a minute he smiled gratefully at her and slouched back down. "Nothing" he moped. <br />
"Look a pretty boy like you doesn't find himself at the waterloo without someone dying, someone Lyin', or someone cryin' now which of those is it?" She asked as she pulled her long dark hair up into a makeshift ponytail.<br />
He gave her a long stare and said, "It's a toss up."<br />
"Oho a comedian." Deana offered. "Well Mr. quick response, it's me or the beer coaster take your pick. Personally I think I'd be a better conversationalist."<br />
The guy laughed a deep rich laugh the kind that sounds like the person only uses it on rare occasions, like just one laugh is a holiday or something. "I don't know the coaster was telling me the most fascinating things about mutual stocks. I'm Damien."<br />
"I'm Deana, waitress, barkeep and indentured servant of the waterloo. So now that we have been properly introduced..." Deana gave him the once over and said point blank, "What's her name?"<br />
"Her name? Oh...it's not like that never mind," he said as he slumped back down obviously dismissing her.<br />
"Alright then what's his name?"<br />
The man arched up right like a lightening bolt, "what makes you say that?'<br />
She chortled a little at his surprise, "listen kid you're not going to shock me I've been around the block enough to know what the real world is like. Anyway big saucy broad like me had played the hag to many a fag. now are you going to tell me what your problem is or am I going to go back to giving the rats vodka stingers." <br />
There was a minute when Deana looked at the blank and somewhat intimidating stare that she had the distinct feeling that she had made a major mistake sitting down next to this strange guy, but then his crystal eyes lit up and he laughed again, that same exhausted exuberant burst. He tipped his glass to her and said "You're good people." He took a swig and then began to tell her his sad story, "I've been kind of flirting with this guy....It's not really a relationship but I'm growing attached to him."<br />
Deana began collecting nearby bottles, "...and he doesn't know you exist right?"<br />
He chuckled a self-depreciative sigh, "Oh no he knows alright, Christ does he know."<br />
"So what's the problem? Break out the soft lights, the Barry white records and the KY then." <br />
Damien smiled with confused eyes, "I think I would..."<br />
"But?" she offered wiping her hands on her pants.<br />
"But he doesn't have a clue who I really am, I've done some really heinous things that he doesn't even realize or couldn't even begin to understand.... And I did some of it to him." He answered rolling the beer in his hands speculatively.<br />
Deana gave him a long flat look, "Are you Jewish?"<br />
He looked startled, "no."<br />
"Catholic?"<br />
"Hell No!"<br />
"Then what is with all this guilt?" She asked matter of factly. "If he don't know it and it ain't gonna hurt him why even worry about it? Unless of course all the things you did will come back to haunt you."<br />
"Oh it did come back in my face." He laughed, not the happy relieved laugh of before a darker malicious chortle. "But I took care of it."<br />
"How did you handle it?"<br />
"I turned the guy who was going to rat me out into a gay bike cop out of a Tom of Finland colanders." He said it with the straightest face she had ever seen. <br />
He was so ridiculously serious that she had to bust out into a deep-bellied gale of laughter. "You're a nut." She laughed even harder.<br />
And for some weird reason her healthy laughter made Damien want to join in, "Yeah it is kind of crazy when you think about it." He added. <br />
"HEY KEEP IT THE FUCK DOWN! We're trying to tune up assholes!" a gruff and unfriendly voice screamed at them. <br />
They both turned abruptly and for the first time since stumbling into the Waterloo Damien noticed the five guys lurking in one of the far off back corners of the large bar room. Deana brushed them off nonchalantly; "If you want those guitars to sound better get someone else to play them!" she yelled then turning back to Damien. "Ignore them."<br />
"Fuck you Fat bitch." Came another catcall.<br />
Damien stood up to defend his new found companion but she put a firm hand on him and pushed him back down, "It's no big deal It's just RANCOR, It's a no-talent band that plays here on Tuesdays, They're as harmless as they are useless."<br />
"This place has live talent?" Damien asked stunned.<br />
"Well I wouldn't call it Live and I definitely wouldn't call it talent but back in it's hey day the Waterloo was one of THE clubs for heavy metal bands on their way up," she paused looking around, "And well now it's the last stop for Wannabee's on the way out."<br />
"Their band's name is Rancor?" He said in disbelief as he could begin to hear the clumsily strumming of an electric guitar and the uninterested tapping of a drum set.<br />
"Yep, You see that lanky crackhead looking blonde over there?" She pointed to a tall white man whose hair strangled down his back and was as blonde as it was greasy. It was kept out of a drunken and tired face by a worn bandanna. He sat idly as his band set up, his skeletal form hanging loose on a chair, "That's Diesel, he used to be huge back in the 80's, back in the era of the hair bands, now he just does horrible vocals for those guys, and the cadaver on the drums..." She pointed to a man who looked to have the body of a 40 year old and the face of father time, worn from hard living and bad Karma. His Frizzy dark hair flew carelessly around as he unmotivatedly tapped his drums. His Tour T-shirt was stained and his jeans looked as if there were three good stitches holding them together "That's Kline, the two of them were in the same band until they got into Coke and Heroin and all kinds of legal trouble then they both got booted out." She gave him a crooked smile, " They absolutely hate each other but now they have to be in this shit band together to pay rent. It's hilarious."<br />
Damien observed the pair of washed out rockers and then noticed a bulky thugged out white boy carrying in a speaker, "Who's He?"<br />
"Mike? Doesn't seem like he belongs with those losers do he? Looks like that new brand of white rapper rocker huh?" They both inspected him with interest. He was short but built broad and wore the typical gold chains backward hat and baggy sports clothes of a white boy trying desperately to be ghetto. He must have noticed because he raised one Vein dissected and hairy forearm to give them the finger. "Yeah he wishes he was, he's as talent less as the other two...now Ryan he's got a talent I suppose but he's in the wrong damn band."<br />
Damien saw the boy she was talking about, a sickly looking pale guy off in a corner plucking a bass looking to the world as sad and morose ad Damien felt. He was nondescript and palpably geeky, wearing flannel that seemed to coat him head to toe. "He looks like the reanimated corpse of that guy from nirvana."<br />
"Pretty much, " she offered dismissively, "He writes great but it's wasted cause they won't use his stuff and he's too much of a puss to stand up to any of them. They push him around like a rag doll" She paused considering, "I'd pity him but he's so arrogant about his deep moody song writing I think he deserves it."<br />
"Wow there's a starting line-up." Damien laughed. "But who's the brute with the amp?" He asked pointing to the large ripped and bleached blonde thug lugging in sound material. "That's Diesel's younger bother he works as there roady...I think his name's Frank he's a bigger Dick then them all put together, and as if just to emphasis that point the frank kicked the seated Ryan hard with one thick corded leg.<br />
"Priceless." Damien observed. <br />
Damien stared at the dangerously gorgeous brute. "What ARE YOU GAWKING AT BITCH?" The tattooed and scarred hulk yelled.<br />
Damien considered "Nothing much." He answered.<br />
"That's what I thought fucker!" And then he went back to moving the huge speakers.<br />
"Frank don't you have some naive little punk rock chic you should be doing statutory things to?" Deana yelled back.<br />
"Shut up you fat bitch." The ogre roared back as he continued loading.<br />
"Yeah Deana Shut-up we're about to do our set." Ryan whined at her, his hair falling into his face for the one-thousandth time. <br />
"C'mon let's get this over with," Diesel rasped from the barstool he was perched on, his hands clasping a bottle of Vodka tightly.<br />
Kline laughed violently making his huge bush of black hair shake; "Yeah diesels' got a hot date with three hot guys, Jack Daniels, Mr.. Smirnoff and Jose Quiervo." <br />
"Fuck you," Diesel spat as he took a swig from his bottle.<br />
Mike began grumbling from behind them all his heavy Brooklyn accent and harsh voice raising above the others, "I bet if Diesel was queer we'd be topping the fucking charts."<br />
"What?" Diesel yelled.<br />
Mike put looked up, his heavy brow disguising the contempt in his eyes, "Only fucking Queer ass boy bands are making it these days, with their faggy clothes and fiery dancing. Nobody likes good music anymore man just queers in tight clothes."<br />
"True dat man!" Frank grunted.<br />
"Fuckin' homo's ruin everything!" Kline agreed.<br />
Back at the bar, as Deana watched the rag tag band in disgust, Damien began to bang his head against the bar in frustration.<br />
She turned to see him successively smacking his head against the bar's surface sending his black bangs up and down sharply, "Hey I know there music sucks, but you don't have to knock yourself unconscious! You could always leave baby doll."<br />
He stopped smacking his head and just put his head in his hands with a tired expression, "I think I'm some kind of magnet!" He said darkly with a look of universal impatience.<br />
"Huh?" She asked confusedly.<br />
"If there is a homophobe in the tri-county area I'll find him and he'll mouth off in front of me.... It's like some kind of god damned curse. It's like ignorant straight boys fucking see me coming!" He was almost yelling now. " I mean I made a promise and I planned to keep it but it's like I have this sign that says, "All Bastards please spew your opinions here.""<br />
Deana looked at him skeptically, "honey, I think you're flagged."<br />
"Oh never mind anyway, I obviously have some work to do." He spat angrily getting up from the bar like a petulant child who didn't want to do his chores.<br />
Deana still didn't comprehend, "Thanks for the company though," She smiled.<br />
"Oh don't mention it," He answered and then considered and gave her a slight kiss on her rosy round cheek, "Thank you for the advice Deana, I'll consider it, and Deana...Your good people you deserve better then this dump."<br />
"Hey honey, I know that, you know that, but that and a quarter will get ya...well hell it won't even get ya a cup of coffee. See ya round baby doll."<br />
And with one last look at Deana's sad smile Damien left the waterloo and went through the darkened bar and out on to the street with Rancor playing him out on his exist with a charming little ditty about heroin, crack whores and angry pimps.<br />
Damien was out in the street in front of the waterloo staring at it's greasy windows and seeing the pleasant but pained waitress listen to the ridiculous hate-corded into music being spewed by the rag tag bunch of schoolyard bullies and burned out assholes and he began to reconsider. <br />
It was just one little spell.<br />
One little flash and he wouldn't have to worry himself about this anymore.<br />
But he had promised.<br />
Gino would be disappointed in him.<br />
And suddenly that thought angered him since when did he care what someone would think? He answered to no one. He did what he wanted when he wanted it. Period, but still behind the heat of agitation was a nagging voice that said he had promised. He had promised Gino that he wouldn't go around sapping his fingers and changing people's lives with his hocus pocus for awhile. <br />
"Fuck that." Damien spat as he raised both hands in the air. He stood like he was worshipping the clear night sky, arms stretched in a wide arc as he muttered under his breath. With a flash of lightening he dropped his arms back to his sides, and the accompanying thunder was just in time to punctuate his wicked little grin. <br />
The perfect skyline that had been dotted with hundreds of stars now began to darken and bleed rain like a running inkpot. A sudden and arcane rain.<br />
He lit a cigarette and stepped under the overhang just as the rain began to pelt down onto the sidewalk. It didn't take long for the band to come stumbling out drunkenly. <br />
"Fuck you man," Diesel rasped knocking errant flecks of straggly hair from his eyes, "I still got it, it was your fucking rhythm it's off beat.<br />
Kline the frizzy haired and obviously fried drummer raised a hand as if to strike at the other man. "My drum's are fine you prick." He growled.<br />
"You've never been able to keep up with me man!" Diesel spit at him.<br />
"Fuck you." Kline returned halfheartedly. How imaginative Damien thought. "You want to settle this shit now crackhead?"<br />
"Who you callin' a crackhead you dope fiend." <br />
"You bitch," Kline roared as he grabbed the blonde man with both fists.<br />
"Mother-!" Diesel began but quickly stopped as Kline put him down.<br />
Kline let him go and walked away morosely, "you're not even worth it dickhead, forget you."<br />
"Whatever," Diesel said as he walked in the opposite direction.<br />
Both of them soaked to the bone in the rain.<br />
"Yo I'm out ya'll," Mike yelled as he grabbed a cab and headed to a hip-hop club down town, but not before he too got noticeably wet.<br />
Last out came Frank and Ryan. Well Ryan came flying out with frank laughing menacingly from behind him. <br />
"You tripped me." Ryan accused.<br />
Frank was walking away laughing, "What are you gonna do fairy cry?"<br />
Ryan pulled himself up and gave the looming form of the muscle-bound roady the finger as he walked away. Ryan turned to leave in the other direction and came face to face with the strange guy from the bar. "You don't have to take that from him,"<br />
Ryan looked at him sullenly, "What's it to you?"<br />
The guy shrugged, "Nothing I just thought you should stand up for yourself, poindexter."<br />
Ryan pouted brushing off his flannel coat, "He thinks just cause he's so big and dumb that I'll just take it."<br />
The man in black looked at Ryan with a wicked Cheshire cat grin. "But if you were big and stupid you wouldn't have to put up with all that bullshit."<br />
Ryan considered glumly, "yeah but I'd be just another Neanderthal dickhead like Frank."<br />
The guy in black considered, "That's right," then he paused giving Ryan a flat look, Life's full of tough choices, In' it?" <br />
This guy was a genuine nut. "No I'd never want to be one of those fucking no brained gorilla's."<br />
"C'mon think it over. No more mopey sadness. No more heavy heart." The man in black circled the gaunt songwriter taunting him on, "instead of being bullied around you'd do the bullying."<br />
"Then I'd be what I hate most I'd be big and muscled and...hot and ...and..." Ryan was losing his train of thought at the stranger's taunting.<br />
"Blissfully ignorant my friend."<br />
"No I don't want to be a big dumb ox."<br />
"Yes you do." The voice was more command then suggestion.<br />
Ryan stuttered back, "Yes I do." <br />
The strange man walked away with Ryan's agreement silently humming to himself happily a song that sounded so familiar...it was from the 70's. Ryan wanted to move and keep talking to the charismatic man and black but he just couldn't seem to come in out of the rain. Later when he finally got it together to move back toward the room he was sharing with Frank he felt like his steps were heavier and he found it hard to concentrate...</div><div class="mindthegap">I was much Later that after the band guys were long gone and Damien had wandered off that Deana Slipped out the back entrance of the waterloo haggard and beat. She mentaly swore as she pulled her tattered jacket up around her neck to keep out the unexpeted rain. She had of course forgotten her umbrella. As she meandered home soaking wet she wondered if her day could get any fucking worse.</div></div></div><div class="arrows">CHAPTER 2</div><div id="footer"><div class="nav"><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>Frank stumbled into his hotel room stupidly. He had spent the night at a bar on the south side and had gotten into two or three fights. His nose still showed signs of dried blood. It had been broken so many times in so many fights that it had the strange handsomeness to it that marked him as a rough neck. <br />
IT was Frank's kind of night, lots of brew and lots of violence. He rubbed his thick and hard cock through the denim of his pants...too bad there wasn't any pussy.<br />
"Now don't go and get started without me, bitch." A harsh and commanding voice echoed behind him.<br />
Frank spun as fast as any man could when he had the mass that frank did. His back was so built it made his cut biceps arc outward like he was stretching. "Who the fuck?"<br />
There was a man sitting on frank's bed. And not just a regular guy, this guy was huge. The man had to be at least 6'4 and weigh the same as a truck. The guy looked like a line backer for the 49ers with a neck the size of his massive square jaw and shoulders that were so wide and round he looked like he had a football players shoulder pads on under the tight Abercrombie t-shirt he sported. The guy had pec's wider then frank's back. Big round mounds of hard plate like flesh that jutted out proudly from an abdomen that was more trunk then body. <br />
The man's thighs were the worst though. He was wearing a pair of cut offs so every huge bundle of over gained muscle in the man's leg bulged like crazy. The tear in his thigh alone was enough to make frank think the man could pull a redwood up by the roots easily. <br />
He was dressed in a preppy gap fashion, with his t-shirt and designer cut offs. His dirty blonde hair was cut in the surfer pageboy so his golden locks fell into his dark eyes. <br />
The preppy football player looked at Frank darkly, "I thought I'd find you here sweet cheeks." He said in a gruff but commanding Alto voice. <br />
"Who the hell are you?" Frank asked <br />
The man grabbed his arm and before Frank could pull away from the vice grip, he said with a smirk, "C'mon sweet cheeks, you know you're too little to take me on." Frank felt his center of balance twist from beneath him, suddenly his vision shifted and the intruder wasn't looking up to him but slightly down at him and the hungry look in the muscled boy's eyes was more intimidating then before, "Alrighty sweet cheeks, get out of those clothes for me." the strange dark haired man almost ordered.<br />
Before Frank could react by cold cocking the cocksucker in the jaw he was removing his dirty sweat stained t-shit over his big biceps. Undressing like he was told too. He knew he shouldn't be getting naked in front of this queer but for some reason he just couldn't stop himself, he had thrown the shirt to the floor and was fighting with the belt around his waist when the guy told him as he looked at his hair in the mirror, "you know if you weren't such a little tramp and didn't wear all that tight girly shit it would be easier for you to get undressed." <br />
There was that strange blur of vision again and suddenly Frank felt like the circulation was being cut off from all over his body, he looked up at himself in one of the wall mirrors and realized somehow he was completely dressed again...only in some body else's clothes. <br />
His huge drastically ripped guitarists body was stuffed into an outfit that was obviously ten sizes to small for him. A pair of shiny black plastic pants held in the girth of his muscular thighs just barely restraining the huge calf and thigh muscles without busting their shiny seams. The top of the pants were cut in a feminine way so that the waist scooped down in front to reveal the cut beauty of his gorgeous groin, waist and hip bones. The affect was put off a little by the fact that his massive bush was sneaking out of the top lewdly. His big harsh Abs was left exposed by the tight little crop top that stretched ridiculously over his heavy pecs. The bright yellow top looked like a woman's sports' bra or some fruity shirt. It had a dragon emblazoned on it in sparkles. <br />
The extra small clothes would be revealing on a man whose size they were mean to fit but on Frank's massive build it looked like he was not only wearing revealing pussy clothes but the clothes of a five year old girl. He looked ridiculous. Every inch of pale rock hard skin that wasn't exposed daringly was barely covered in straining fabric. It was comical. <br />
The burly football player crossed his massive guns across his chest and smiled hungrily, "You look real pretty tonight sweet cheeks, but you're taking to long...let me help you. Come over here and let your man take care of you sweet thang." <br />
Frank's blood boiled who. He seethed. White rage made every muscle thickened vein tense in fury. Who the fuck was this guy to treat him. The shit-kicker he was, like some little girly bitch. He was going to put this pansy ass in the fucking ICU but as he stalked over to his victim he realized that he wasn't stalking. The plastic pants creaked loudly under the stress of Frank's exaggerated sashay. His large manly ass flicked back and forth as he strutted femininely to the man's side. His big meaty ass cheeks flicked up and down more invitingly then a call girl on a slow night. And his shoulders arched and fell with the precision of a super model. If seeing this big scary man in those ridiculous clothes was funny watching him flounce around and prance like a teenage girl was hysterical. <br />
The football player put his hands on the bulging bow of frank's completely bare shoulder's, here let me get this for you, it most be impossible for you to get off.... you and your jewelry..." he laughed deeply...masculinely. <br />
Frank's air supply suddenly seemed to be cut off and his head snapped to see his reflection. As he spun he heard the clink of metal and realized that his arms were covered in dozens of clanging bracelets. The strangling sensation was coming from a choker that encircled the width of his bulky thick neck. It was black and looked like it would break under the strain at any second. It had a little silver charm on it that said, "bitch". Two medium sized hoops hung from both ears making him look even more like he was going to a costume party dressed as a little fag. <br />
Because even though he was dressed the part, no one would think that this big muscled brutal man was really the person he was dressed like, it had to be a gag. <br />
"What are you doing to me? He growled in frustration and confusion," the big muscled jock only smiled until his dimples looked like they were going to burst, "nothing babe just playing our usual game," he gave him another look and tisked, "and don't use that gruff tone it makes you seem angry."<br />
"Of course I'm angry...I ieeeeeee." He grabbed his bull neck and the choker that confined it, "what's wrong with my voice?" The big man asked in what was now a high soft-spoken almost shy timbre. The voice of a quite young teenager. An flamboyantly effeminate young teenager."<br />
"Nothing hot ass, that's the way your voice has to be if you want to hit all those high notes in our songs."<br />
"Me sing? I don't sing...Singing's for girls and queers..."<br />
The big ham face smiled again, "but babe you love to do girly things sometimes you're just a big sissy and about the fag business..." Again the man who seemed his same size overpowered him easily and began to grope at his. And then put one hand luridly around his acheingly and embarrassingly hard dick, "as you can see that's not up for discussion."<br />
"Oh stop!" Frank lisped as he felt a deep blush creep over his craggy cheeks. He tossed his head like a cheerleader and swiveled saucily away from the grope. All the while desperately trying to get control of his body back, but he was loosing the fight terribly do to the fact that the more that he acted like a girly little bitch the more he started to like it! <br />
Alright baby lets quit playing games I'm ready to let you ride my monster...saddle up bitch." The heavy brow arched down hungrily and the thick snake like veins on the jocks neck pulsed intently. Frank was terrified. His first inclination wasn't to hit the preppy poster boy, it was to shove his painfully confined ass toward the intruder in hopes the man would grab him and fuck him like an animal. His whole body began to ache with a horrifying need to have the other man's coarse lips over every inch of his own body. He wanted the guy to use him like he himself had used so many women. <br />
Frank stood confused and bewildered. He was completely lost. He stood there in front of the big man whose size and height didn't much out strip his own, eager horny and desperate but at the same time repulsed, disgusted and pissed. In only a few short seconds he had been robbed of his masculinity forced to wear ridiculously tight clothes that looked pathetic on his hulking frame and he suddenly was behaving like a girly bitch. And worst of all he had never been this hard in his entire life. <br />
"Don't be shy baby," The man moved forward his every motion a liquid flow of mass and density. Frank found himself noticing the sexy way that the big guy's thighs rubbed across each other and the way his meaty ass moved up and down. He was putty in the bigger man's hands.<br />
The guy was right up against his sweat soaked back. Frank could feel the hard nipples and rippling flesh of his big fat pecs, and then he could feel a hot breath in his ear, "I know you're really frank sweet cheeks, but now I'm the cocky prick with the attitude and muscles and I'm going to fuck you into my little cream boy...how's that sound?" Frank was confused. "Huh?" He gasped sexually unconsciously gyrating his hips hungrily.<br />
"It's me Ryan..." The guy admitted and suddenly Frank understood why the guy looked so familiar, he moved in shock but with one massive paw Ryan brought franks own strong jaw against his own and forcefully kissed him. Devouring the other man's mouth angrily. It was more show of superiority then kiss. <br />
Frank's mind was at such a loss for explanation that he just shut down and let his hot and aching dick do his thinking for him, so when Ryan's big hands pulled down the leather pants and with one big imposing thigh brushed his legs apart. He just moaned, his huge from spent and bent over the bed. <br />
Ryan smiled dumbly and thrust his huge dick into Frank's virgin ass. Frank growled in pain but still made no move to escape the others mans aggressive embrace. <br />
Ryan pounded on pumping harder and harder fucking the other man savagely; getting out all the bullied aggression that had dogged him for so long. He fucked frank raw and loved every minute of it.<br />
And underneath him lying grunting on the bed frank began to change.<br />
His Tattoo's melted away into his skin; leaving not even traces of the dark inks to mar his beautifully and immaculately tanned arms. His muscles softened becoming the tight defined muscles of a young man. Loosing hid brutish bulk his waist narrowed waspishly making the size of his bubble butt seem exaggerated. The tight waist spread in a perfectly symmetric V into shoulders that were broad but graceful. And his pecs seemed more like firm round tits then the mounds of chest muscle they were. He looked like the stereotypical gay boy in every urban neighborhood. Muscularly thin, pretty and petulant. <br />
Ryan let go of his boy's ass without getting off, saving his load for later.<br />
Frank stirred on the bed, his white blonde hair spiking up in a daring style and his trashy clothes and excessive jewelry now clad his smaller more effeminate svelte party boy body.<br />
"What happened to me?"<br />
"Nothing TJ baby."<br />
"Who's TJ?" Frank asked in a soft timbre that was nowhere near the powerful roar of his old voice.<br />
"You are sweet cheeks."<br />
"No I'm not I'm frank...I'm.... I'm..."<br />
Ryan grinned a wide grin the split the broad jaw wide, "Not anymore, from now on your TJ my little slut...or I won't let you at my dick no more." Ryan put the thick piece of flesh in his large hand and swung it tauntingly at the now smaller and less imposing frank.<br />
"But...but..." Frank whimpered. He knew this wasn't right. That he was Frank and that he wasn't a queer and that something was terribly wrong but something in his libido and his crouch took over. No matter how much he wanted to fight it, he had to agree with Ryan because he was just so horny. He needed this big hunk's cock. He lusted for the big hunk's body. He wanted to be this man's slut.<br />
TJ fell to the bed and arched his back femininely and grabbed his legs with an acrobat's precision he raised his creamy silk thighs into the air revealing his ass to his the man who had made him into his slutty vain little lover with the force of his big cock, challengingly, "c'mon on baby work me out."<br />
Ryan put to big meat hooks around the pole of his big dick, "Pushy aren't ya!" Ryan used his thick arms to hold TJ's graceful legs in the air, the man who once looked like a bouncer now looked much more like a ballerina. <br />
The sweet looking boy on the bed winked lecherously and sighed, "you wanted a slut hunk, now you have one."<br />
Ryan fucked him three ways to Sunday. Bending his willing and eager body over the bed and ripping into him doggy style, skewering the big bubble but harshly, while all TJ could do was squirm to take more of the massive dick and scream hungrily, "Fuck me baby, Fuck me!"<br />
Ryan roared above him, flexing and posing as he beat his cock into the beautiful ass. A sexual monolith with his heavy body and heavy cock. Ryan was in heaven with the big mounds of muscle pressing against him, dominating him, making him submissive and compliant.<br />
He begged for it, and tried to let his hands, thighs and legs touch as much of Ryan's god like body as he could. </div></div></div><div class="arrows"></div><div id="footer"><div class="nav"><div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><u><strong>CHAPTER 3</strong></u><br />
<br />
</div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>Kline was in the rental car for all of about two minutes before he heard the sound of police sirens and the extremely familiar glare of blinking lights, "bloody hell man," he mumbled over the cigarette clenched between his lips. He doused the cigarette on the floor of the car completely ignoring the ashtray and put the open bottle of bourbon that was his only companion in the glove box. All he needed tonight was to be hassled by some fucking pig. <br />
Back when the band was at it's best Kline would run into about three hundred angry pigs a night and each one could be ignored or sent off happily with a wad of cash but now that they were in the gutter of both the charts and life, he had to avoid getting into trouble. There wasn't a record company to bail him out anymore, or anyone else for that matter. He would start bar fights, riots drive drunk as a sailor his bad boy attitude was legendary, he was the greatest bad ass of his fucking day man. As he sat in his run down car he thought back to the night he totaled a vet while driving down sunset strip. Those were the days wind in his hair, needle in his arm, and some hot bitch in his lap. He almost killed himself that night and when the doctor told him he almost died Kline laughed in his face and took a shot of tequila from the bottle the band had brought him. Back when their records were selling like water during a fucking drought he didn't have a goddamn care in the world. It was irresponsibility and bad ass behavior in spades...but now, Kline took a disappointed look in the rearview and examined himself, now things were pretty fucking shitty. <br />
Back in his hey day he was the greatest drummer of his generation and every hot little teenage slut had a poster of him grabbing his leather clad dick and looked at it with lust. Now he sat in a run down car, his bushy hair all out of place, framing his head like an unruly bush, his face no longer that of the sexual predator who had sex with a new girl in every town. It was the face of a tired aging has been, and the scar that laced down the side of his face, a reminder of the accident, only made things worse. His once lithe and tight body was developing a paunch and woman who used to line up to suck his dick now looked at him with disgust. Yeah pretty Shiite, and now he couldn't even relive those moments by taking a couple swigs and going driving. Sure drunk drivin was reckless and shit but who the fuck cares he certainly didn't.<br />
"Do yah no how fast ya'll were goin back there boy'a?" The cop said in a tight southern accent.<br />
"You're the one with the radar gun pig." Kline spat.<br />
There was a tightening of the jaw but that was the only reaction Kline could illicit from the stony handsomness of the cops face, "Ah right, ya can get outa tha car now,"<br />
Kline fumbled with the door handle and stumbled drunkenly onto the dark gravel of the highway, his ten-year-old acid washed jeans scrapped as he struggled to stand up and he had to straighten his has so the mop of frizzled hair didn't obscure his view of the wide and imposing police officer. <br />
"Ah'm gonna have to ask ya to face the car with both o those hands on the hood." The menacing man growled.<br />
"I fucking, hiccup, guessed so..." He had done this thousands of times over and over in all fifty states and the routine never changed, the cop patted him down with his heavy leather gloved hands and then told him to turn back around. <br />
"Aright boy now gimme your license," The officer ordered.<br />
"Why the fuck do you keep calling me boy?" Kline asked the man who was obviously ten year's younger then him, "And don't you know who I am?" He asked.<br />
"What?" The cop asked, a strange look crossing his face.<br />
"I said..." Then the weirdest thing happened suddenly his voice seemed to change and instead of the harsh hard driven bass he asked the question in a good nature light baritone, "don't you know who I am?"<br />
There was a couple minutes silence as the cop kept staring at him with that strange confused expression but it suddenly disappeared and his craggy countenance was broken by a tight smile, "Of course I do your one of the members of that band," Kline was ecstatic at least someone remembered him and the band after all this time, "What's it called oh yeah...U Got Male." <br />
"What?" Kline asked suddenly shocked sober.<br />
"You're one of those guys singers in that band, you do all those pop songs and dance right? You're Kyle right?"<br />
No I don't that's pussy shit I'm in a rock band you queer that what's he wanted to say; instead he answered confidently, "yeah, that's me."<br />
"Ah thought so."<br />
NO! My name is Kline and I play drums...and carry the baritone line in harmonies...No I don't know how to sing, I play drums...I took three years of singing lessons..."yeah it's hard for me to not get recognized."</div><div class="mindthegap">Kline center of gravity felt off, like he was stumbling not because he was drunk but because he wasn't used to his body, He mechanically looked down at his driving licensee and a stranger stared back, Kyle Kline, 24, blue eyes, black hair. That wasn't his first name or his age...and the picture certainly wasn't him either, the man who stared back from the picture hand short cropped hair in a preppy crew cut, that shined glossy black with gel. He was young too, about what the age had said and he was strikingly handsome. More handsome then Kline hand ever been. With white teeth a smile that seemed fixed on his face and broad shoulders that belied a muscled body. And the eyes sparkled with a bright blue happiness and sweetness in a way that Kline's gray eyes never had. Awe shit I'm so fucked up...He thought, "Excuse me officer but I think I need to sit down for a minute."<br />
He made a few powerful strides to the car and half collapsed back into his seat, What's going on I feel so strange...and then he saw the man from the license again...only now he was staring back from the rear view mirror. Awwww shit...."Oh gosh..."<br />
Smooth features, a Roman nose, strong jaw and meticulously styled black hair...he looked like all those frat boys he had mocked growing up.... No he had been in a Frat before joining the band...<br />
"Are ya ahl-right son?" the cop asked putting a hand on his shoulder.<br />
"Oh yes, just a little dizzy I think." No I'm not all right I'm ...I'm...I'm Kyle Kline oldest member of the band U Got Male. No I'm not I'm Kline I dropped out of high school when I was fifteen I....I was the president of my frat and left college to be in a boy group. I was a Loser! I was voted most likely to succeed! I have a beer belly and track lines, I work out 4 times a week and have a strict diet.<br />
Kline looked into the mirror at the happy handsome and youthful face and started to remember what it was like to be Kyle and he liked it. He started to slowly accept he was Kyle, He slowly wanted to be Kyle. Big strong strapping Kyle with his good looks and big smile. Kline was a dirty has been Kyle was young and clean cut, he was everything Kline never was. <br />
With a confident smile at himself in the mirror Kyle flashed his pearly whites and good attitude and destroyed any last vestiges of the repulsive old rock band metal head he had been. His Leather Italian shoes landed firmly on the ground and he stepped out smoothing his dark Dockers out around the bulge in his Dick that the muscled and hot cop had given him, he adjust the loose flowing blue shit he was wearing over his wife beater T-shirt. The shirt was blue to accentuate his eyes; the wife beater was tight to accentuate his big round pecs and his tiny wasp like waist. "I'm feeling much better now officer, " he answered happily in a smooth and soothing voice that dripped with genuine charm. <br />
"I'm glad boy," The cop answered with his deep southern brogue. He let the mirror glasses he was wearing slip to the edge of his nose revealing his beautiful eyes, "Ya mind if I make ya feel Mighty betta," He licked his sensuous goatee' encircled lips. <br />
Kyle put a tentative hand on the rising crotch of his khaki's, he loved it when an older man wanted to seduce him. At 24 he was far from old but he was the oldest member of the group and the other guys treated him like their fucking big brother. It was nice to be in the firm hands of a man in control. It was nice to be in firm hands period.<br />
He unzipped his fly and released his pink cock from the confines of his boxer briefs, and the cop immediately went to his knees. Kyle felt two hard-gloved hands on his ass and suddenly his body came alive with the electric sensation of another man's mouth smothering his cock head.<br />
Kyle sat back and massaged the cops shoulders as he went to work on the rigid cock the sprung out from beneath his well-ironed Dockers, Kyle arched his back in ecstasy, the cop was good damn good. He wasn't in the habit of letting random men suck his Dick. That would be stupid and irresponsible but being a heartthrob had it's advantages and one was when you could make a guy throb take advantage. He was always careful and his boyfriend Darien knew he sometimes got a blowjob from the occasional fan. Kyle began thinking of Darren and wondered if his young lover had put on his Pajamas and gone to bed yet. It was murder trying to get Darien to full around after he had put on his Pj's....</div></div></div><div class="arrows"></div><div id="footer"><div class="nav"></div><div class="nav"><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">CHAPTER 4</h3><div>Diesel was sitting alone in the motel room flipping through the porn channels. He could vividly remember the good old days when he had any number of stupid groupie women buck-naked and happily spreading their legs for him in adoration. He brushed a lock of fried peroxide hair of his eyes and pushed it behind the skull and cross bones bandanna he was wearing. Who said rock was dead? <br />
He was still alive and kicking. He looked at his reflection in the seedy mirror, at 35 he still hand it, he was still whip thin with his craggy jaw and hard eyes. He still had the reedy legs that looked great in leather. And he could still wail better then any guy he had ever known. Sure the lines around his eyes and mouth weren't just from hard drinking but from age now too. But he was still the rock god he was ten years ago...ten years...had it been that long since they're last hit their last real tour? <br />
Fuck it back to the porn. <br />
He massaged his cock through the ripped jeans he wore and watched as some bitch was getting cored by a big prick. He watched with intent interest as they showed a close up of her cunt. Yeah this dirty whore really liked it, just like all those big haired sluts he used to plow with his big Dick. Yeah he could see all those pussies now he thought lasciviously...and then suddenly he had a new errant thought, he looked at the obscenely tight shot of the girl being fucked and said infanticly, "ewww gross." <br />
Diesel caught himself and looked around...shit where the fuck did that come from? He loved dirty nasty fucks, that's' what hem lived for nasty sex and rock and roll. He shook his head sending blonde hair falling around his narrow shoulders. He brushed it off and went back to watching the porn now they showed the hoe being rammed from behind and the fast passed action made Diesel want to peel back the dirty denim of his jeans to grab his rod but suddenly he saw the scene in a different light. He heard his gravely rock voice saying to the open air, "oh that poor woman, they are objectifying and using her, how sad." His once ramrod Dick felt limp against his leg and he found himself moving to turn off the video. <br />
"What the fuck is going on?" He said out loud again. <br />
He put his head in his hands to steady himself. Was he loosing his mind? He had heard of guys who did acid and LSD who years later just snapped something in their back and went crazy or some shit, but then suddenly he put his head up and wasn't worried anymore, "Oh that can't be it," he said confidently to himself. "I'd never do drugs they're bad for you." He heard the words come from his mouth but couldn't believe them. He had done every drug in the book, you name it he tabbed it, shot it up or smoked it. Just to assure himself he went to say, Bullshit I've done all kinds of fucking drugs, But what came out in a gravely voice was, "Illegal drugs would be bad for my body, I'll never do them." <br />
No1 Diesel thought he had done heroin back in Toronto and coke in New York and..or wait was that LA...no maybe San Deigo..It was so hard to concentrate. <br />
Shit what the fuck is wrong with me he thought, but what came out was, "I don't feel too good." Then he heard the porno and it drug him back to reality, the poor girl was having sex with two guys at once and they were saying the rudest things to her, one man called her an F-ing c word and the other called her a whore, they were being so mean to her and they were swearing so much it made Diesel's ears burn. <br />
No! He swore all the time. He did didn't he? I fucking cuss shit, that ain't fucking nothin', but again his voice translated "Swearing makes you look dumb and rude." And he was to confused to notice that his voice was less gravel and more smooth then before. <br />
Something was wrong he was losing his mind first he didn't want to see this cunt get dicked and now he didn't want to fucking curse? What was that shit? His head was swimming but he pulled his fried brain cells together to focus his thoughts, <br />
All right, he thought, I just got to get my head together, I mean I really am fuckin revved to see this slut get her cunt ripped open by some guys cock, his now lighter and softer voice said however, "It's a shame these unfortunate people have to show they're privates on television.<br />
No he wanted to see pussy, no vagina...And tits...breasts...what was going on his mind was so cloudy...<br />
He put his head frantically in his hands and noticed that his long trade mark hair was no longer wrapped around his anxious fingers. In shock he turned to the mirror and things got so much weirder. Instead of seeing his tall lanky 34 year old frame covered in a torn concert T-shirt and jeans with a red bandanna pulling his greasy hair back, he was wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a tight little neon blue shirt that said bad boy. And what was worse was he didn't even look like himself, his hair was now short enough to only fall into his eyes and instead of being the bleached split ends of before, it was a lustrous shiny natural gold. And the lines of hard living and age seemed to be melting away as he looked on, Like he was getting younger, His fragile mind seemed to break under the pressure and he suddenly had the strong urge to cry. He had never been so over come with emotion before, he felt frustrated but instead of wanting to hit something or get into a fight all he wanted to do was lay down on the bed and cry his eyes out. <br />
He was holding back the tears but his chest was heaving up and down under the tight Lycra of the shirt with the effort to not cry. <br />
He never cried only girls cry...he was a man he had never in his life...the other guys were always picking on him for being so sensitive they were really going to ride him if they caught him balling again.<br />
The frustration and confusion rolled over him mixed with a thousand other intense emotions and he began to sniff loudly. <br />
His sobs only got worse however when he got up and looked at himself closely in the mirror, now he could see he was definitely loosing his mind, the baggy jeans now had a chain hook down the pant leg, and something in his head told him it was a wallet chain. He was wearing a necklace made out of rope...no hemp. <br />
There was a faint whisper in the back of his mind saying I look like a fucking little pretty boy bitch, but he said in lilting velvet tones through his exquisite tears, "I'm so cute." Even when he was a 19-year-old kid Diesel wasn't as beautifully handsome as the kid he saw in the mirror wasn't. The face behind the blonde bangs was the face of an angle, only shadows of Diesel's care worn craggy face remained. The sultry eyes, light brow, up turned nose and sensual lips replaced all the lines and age. <br />
Where Diesel had been a tall gangly rock Lothario the kid in the mirror had the tight body and slightly round muscles of a high school basketball player r swimmer. He wasn't built but at lest you could see definition in the overly tan arms that crept out of the constricting blue fabric, and the decal "Bad boy" was pushed ever so slightly outward by the arcs of his round pecs. The Baggy pants were loose only in the legs, they should the immaculate perfection of his young pert bubble but explicitly, Diesel looked like the picture of a young nubile teenage man. <br />
"How many times do I have to tell you not to be a crybaby?" said a deep voice from behind him.<br />
Diesel turned abruptly from his strange reflection and muzzled a sickly whimper when he saw the man in the doorway. Framed in the glow of the open door like an angel was a large broad man with the most gorgeous eyes Diesel had ever seen. He looked like an Abercrombie and finch Clark Kent and he was smiling a wide beatific grin.<br />
It was Kline fucking bastard no it was Kyle,.... He hated Kline...but he trusted Kyle.<br />
"Kyle, what...what's happening to me?" Darien asked in his angelic voice. His lithe shoulders shaking with confused sobs. He pushed his golden bangs out of his face with a flippant swat of one hand. "I feel so strange."<br />
The man in the door dropped the blue shirt he was wearing to the ground and raced to Darren's side, wearing only a tight wife beater he gathered Diesel up into his strong arms and held him tight. At first Darren felt he should resist the tight affectionate grip of the other man but soon the thick corded arms started to feel safe, the feeling of the man's hard warm exposed skin felt welcoming and his cooing whispers of comfort felt sweet. "I'll take care of it baby, just tell me what's wrong. I won't let anything bother you baby." <br />
Darnel's posture changed that from a rigid stick to melted butter. He melted languidly into the bigger man'' fierce embrace. He began to hold him back putting his elegant arms around the crook of the bigger man's neck and intertwining his young legs with the muscled thighs hidden behind the perfectly pressed Khaki's. "Oh Kyle, I'm so glad you're here...I love you so much..." he crooned somewhere between thankful statement and beautiful melody. <br />
Darren was glad Kyle was there. Kyle his handsome and buff lover of two years, the love of his life, his partner, his boyfriend. He loved Kyle with the big puppy dog heart of a teenager just first out on his own 19 but still with the mentality of a school girl doodling names on her notebook. Kyle was the humpy older man bigger and stronger from age, who protected and loved him. <br />
Kyle took the fragile blonde's head in his big hand and lifted his chin up, "I never want you to be unhappy ever. I want to keep you shielded from anything that would hurt you." The sincerity and fervor reflected back in the crystal eyes could not be denied. <br />
But Darren being the flirty little trouble maker he was couldn't help but angle more compliments from his big strong boyfriend, "Sometimes I don't know why a big 24 year old frat boy like you puts up with an immature little kid like me."<br />
Kyle grabbed him by the shoulders and made him be serious, "You are the reason I wake up happy every morning, you're my whole life's happiness Darren. I love loving you more then anything else." And he meant every word of it. "I love you, I love you're laugh, I love your voice...And I love," Darren felt the big masculine hands grab his voluptuous ass in a two handed squeeze that gripped so much meat that it made him yelp, "...you're cute little ass."<br />
"And I love you...and you know why!" Darren began doing his trade mark dance steps gyrating his groin into the large bulge in front of Kyle's Khaki's making the older man blush.<br />
"Do you want to fool around a little before we got to bed?" Kyle asked from underneath the sultry arc of his dark well-groomed eyebrows. His hunky torso packed tightly into a wife beater that showed every curve of his mature manly body.<br />
"Of course I do, honey." Darren answered as he pulled off his shirt and began to unbuckle his jeans. Kyle caught his face in both big hands and looked down at him with deep adoring eyes, "but not too late we have a gig tomorrow and you need rest, all right baby?"<br />
Darren dropped his pants and gave his boyfriend a play full swat, "You're always such a stickler for the rules, you make me feel bad."<br />
Kyle threw back his head and laughed a deep rich sexual laugh, and pulled the wife beater of revealing his muscular wide chest and thin sensual waistline, Darren ran his hands across the slabs of his large pecs and tickled the light brushing of hair that ran down his lover's chest to an enticing bunny trail. Their chest smacked against each other as they embrace, Kyle's large muscular older and more developed pecs against Darren's smooth tight chest. <br />
Kyle was Darren's older brother boyfriend, and lover all in one, he couldn't be happier, he broke off the cock jumping kiss and jumped on the bed shoving his boxer brief clad bubble but into the air while he kneeled on his hands and knees. He began to rock the luscious ass back and forth with the trained skill of a dancer and a boytoy and asked giddily, "So are you going to fuck my ass or tuck me in?" <br />
Kyle walked on his thick and hairy legs; his own briefs doing little to hide the hungry Dick that entered the black fabric of his Calvin's obscenely. He came up right behind Darren and grabbed the boxer briefs and ripped them down his smooth legs and put both big commanding hands on the lead singes beautiful ass, "I'm going to make love to you baby," He answered smoothly<br />
Darren did a fluid turn and sat down onto Kyle's monster Dick, they had done this so many times before it seemed but for some reason Darren felt like it was somehow new to him. It never once occurred to him that Kyle was once Kline the hard living guitarist and he was Diesel the sleazy lead singer of <br />
Rancid and that they had once hated each other. All he felt was intense pleasure as he bounced happily up and down ad Kyle rubbed his shoulders and tits as their lips fought with each other, making hot passionate love like any other queer couple their age would. Kyle's hard cock speared Darren as he bounced up and down on his Lover's pike. The hard cock filling the young man's hot and needy ass. Kyle kept to firm hands on Darren's sweaty and tight torso to steady him on his lap, and between clenching his jaw in ecstasy and nipping at the teens hard and pointed nipples he would groan deep and low.<br />
Darren was free to let his hands roam all over the wide area of Kyle's broad and more developed back. Letting his fingers play across the bigger man's shoulder and then clutching his arms tightly when he we thrust into deeply. Massaging the other man's sexy neck or letting his hands play against Kyle's powerful granite thighs while impaling himself on the cock he loved. Letting the thick piece of flesh penetrate him over and over while he sighed and whined for it like a virgin girl with her first taste of sex. Throwing his head back in lust and shutting his eyes in exquisite agony. All the while fucking up and down and kissing in between hard pounding thrusts of Kyle's pelvis. <br />
There voices mingled in lust and pleasure as they repeatedly told each other in throaty grunts and sweaty screams, "I love you!"</div></div></div><div class="arrows"><br />
</div><div id="footer"><div class="nav"><div class="arrows"><u><strong>CHAPTER 5</strong></u><br />
<br />
</div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>Mike splashed the cold water from the faucet over his face, practically drowning himself in the men's room sink. He looked up from the enclosure of his big thick hands at his round face and square strong jaw. Mike had always been a hard core no frills man, he rarely took much stock in how he looked, a pair of Jean shorts, a T-shirt and a baseball cap were usually needed to get by. Tonight he wore a T-shirt that had had it's sleeves cut off at the shoulder so it revealed his broad and wide shoulders and exposed his thick arms covered in abrasive tattoo's of every shape size and offense. He had always been what you would call stocky, big arms, stout legs, barrel chest and it pissed him off to no end that he was the shortest man in the bad. Well, the bad period pissed him off, When he signed up into their line-up last year they had promised him that they would let him take Rancid in a new direction, with heavy back beats and more rap influenced rock, but he had yet to see those fucking changes. <br />
Mike stared at his tired face in the mirror. A hard almost thuggish face, round and hard the face of a schoolyard bully grown to stocky man hood, he still had time to get. He was still young. Compared to the decade that most of the other guys had on him. At 24 he could still form his own band with heavy raps and turn tables the hard core roughneck shit that he wanted. He slammed one meaty fist down into the water, yeah there was still time. <br />
He was so tired of listening to these burned out rockers talk about the good old days when chicks were ten deep waiting to get to them, like they were so great. He wasn't any slouch either. And bitch would be lucky to be on his dick, sure he wasn't to tall but he was thick and built like a brick wall of meaty muscle and tendon, so what f he had a little gut...must girls think that's sexy... Guys who were all muscle and 0-bodyfat were all queers anyway; women like a guy with a natural man's body<br />
Most of the original band members thought his idea's were to pop and were just a fad. They were wrong hardcore rap rock was in they were just to drunk or stupid to notice. They thought rap was just a black thing or a ghetto thing. But mike knew that you didn't have to be a stupid fucking minority to be a good goddamn rapper, you didn't! "I can rap just as good as some kid from the fucking hood," mike swore at his angry bulldog like reflection in the mirror. <br />
And his idea's for heavy beats weren't pop influenced they were just current everyone wants music you can move to..."Everyone wants music they can dance to." Mike stated confidently...Wait that wasn't what he meant.<br />
HIs whole body suddenly felt a shiver as the music rushed through him like electricity. His brawny form began to sway back and forth to the hard beats and high rhythms in wild and frantic ways that his solid male pride would have never let him do before. Mike had always thought guys who danced crazy in clubs were show offs and queers but now he understood the inclination. The long bathroom mirrors caught his every movement, as the beefy hard as nails whiteboy began to twist and turn gracefully but in perfect time to the almost supernatural music he watched himself stupefied at his new found ability to dance. His expertise at moving to music with any kind rhythm was previously extended at bouncing up and down heavily and throwing his hands in the air in hard jabs. All the ghetto kids who said he couldn't rap were the same ones who said white boys couldn't dance, and that pissed him off too...but now for some reason he thought he looked really good. He saw himself grooving in the mirror and was actually a little pleased...<br />
The stocky man in the mirror flowed seamlessly with the melodies, when the music got fast his bulky shoulders darted up and down, when it slowed he turned with attitude too much attitude...like a woman or something...as his movements became more intricate. He brought one denim short-covered hairy leg up and stroked it as he turned, with an agility he new his stumpy thick thighs didn't possess and realized something was drastically wrong. <br />
The reflection in the mirror began to show him the more and more flamboyant hand movements that his tattoo covered arms were making, he looked like some chick dancing or a fucking queer... his leg was up in his hand again and then he was twirling femininely...what the fuck was he doing...He was dancing out of control.<br />
He should stop soon this was getting out of hand, but mike couldn't help thinking that it would be easier to keep dancing if he wasn't wearing all these big baggy clothes. <br />
Now why did he think that? He loved his thug style, he was keeping it real with the baggy shorts, the jersey, the Tim's...But if he had tighter shorts and a close fitting shirt it would be easier to move...<br />
His fluid dancing was interrupted, as mike felt extremely uncomfortable, like his body was being constricted all around. One quick look in the mirror showed him why. Tight little denim shorts clung painfully to him now. His big hairy thighs burst forth from the cut-oaf's like sausages with a broken casing, and his barrel chest was wrapped up tight in a Lucre shirt with a tie dye pattern. He looked fucking ridiculous. Like a queer from the 70's or something. <br />
What the fuck is goin on! His mind reeled, "Ohh girl I'm looking fierce." He said instead and unconsciously smiled satisfactorily at the man dancing in mirror. Looking at the ultra-tight suffocating clothes he sported mike realized that his dick was harder then it had ever been in his entire life. It's length tracked across the denim lewdly testifying to the world how fucking turned on he was.<br />
He was horrified and he still continued to dance.<br />
I look ridiculous! Mike's mind scream and then he said out loud, "I look ridiculous!" At least it came out right this time. He did look ridiculous all bursting out of these pansy ass tight scraps...yes he'd look much better if he were lithe and thin like dancers should be with big tight muscles and no body fat at all...completely hot and ripped...no that's not why he thought he looked stupid...he thought it because...<br />
But the music was already at work. <br />
Where Mike had always remembered being big and thick but short he now saw himself in the mirror with a completely different genetic code. The man in the mirror looked like Mike, but as he danced mike realized that something had changed. As he grooved and moved he watched his tight biceps stretch and move the fabric of the shirt like it was his skin showing every movement of the rock hard arms and their deep wells of muscles. His legs were so long they seemed to stretch for miles out of the flimsy denim. He had seen guys in high school with legs like these track stars with legs that could sprint faster then the wind. But his gorgeous thighs and calves were thicker then those had been more cut and thicker...not a runner's sculpted legs...a dancers. His taunt form stared back at him. <br />
As he pirouetted and slipped into a back turn with a kick mike noticed that his long flexed legs had stretched his body a good half a foot. Still, he would now stand the height he had always wished for, at lest 6'1 or 6'2 which was gargantuan to the stature Mike used to possess. And what he gained in height he lost in weight. Instead of thick his body seemed long. Long muscled legs lead into a thin almost delicate torso, who's every ridge pushed forward like rocks under his tight shirt. Impossibly muscled long arms moved around his face sassily. The square somewhat chubby face had thinned out to looked delicate and strangely feminine/ Compared to the brutish heavy brow and square jaw Mike used to have. His now aquiline jaw, high cheek bones and highly arched eyebrows seemed positively pretty, girlishly so. The thick linebacker neck was now as thin and graceful as a swan's and sashayed the beautiful face back and forth impertinently. Like a bitchy girl would flick her head.<br />
Mike realized that something drastically wrong had happened but he was so caught up in the feel of his streamlined body moving beneath him that he didn't really care what had happened, it just felt so damn good to move his body to the music. <br />
His dancing changed then becoming more suggestive and fining away to even seem filled with more attitudes, He bent over, turned and ran his hands up and down his cut groin. Traced fingers up his bulging calves as he twisted showing off his ass. He watched himself look so damn hot moving and was turned on. Very turned on. <br />
He watched his supple movements with more interest. He had great flexibility but he still didn't have that inbred gift for dance like other guys seemed to have. He watched technically studying his dancing detachedly the way he used to watch himself fix a car or ride a dirt bike. He turned, and swerved...That's what it was! He couldn't swivel his hips or move with the sensuality that those Latin heartthrobs did in music videos' and stuff...They moved like they're fucking waist wasn't connected to anything. And then Mike realized that he had made another mistake. <br />
He danced and he could feel himself changing again. <br />
The man in the mirror was no longer the pale white of the Caucasian suburb boy who wanted to be hard, he was a deep tan, a Carmel that was smooth as silk. A sensual color that looked like the color of hot love. The hard, heavy lidded blue eyes that looked at contempt at the man in the bar were now almond shaped pools of deep erotic bed room brown and were circled by natural dark lines that made them look like the painted eyes of an Egyptian prince. Flawless skin stretched across cheekbones so defined they couldn't be called anything short of exquisite. The high aristocratic, ethnic cheeks framed lips that were so big and sensuous they seemed permanently pursed. All this hung under dark meticulously manicured arched eyebrows. The brown buzz cut that mike had arbitrarily had since thirteen had grown into jet-black thick Cuban hair that was cut in a devastatingly stylish roman cut. <br />
Mike look upon the impossibly beautiful face as it moved and posed to the music and noted absently that his ears were dangling big hoops that caught the light when he moved. That made him happy. <br />
Mike watched as the gorgeous Cuban boy moved. His creamy skin accentuated the Adonis's every move and thank god mike wasn't covered in all that gross hair. Like any true dancer Mikey shaved religiously so that he was always sleek and gorgeous. <br />
Mike was bent over and bouncing his ass rhythmically; bizarrely pleased that along with the spectacular beauty and rhythm of a Hispanic man he also had a well-shaped ghetto booty that stretched the fabric in the ass of the denim cut-off's dangerously. A big ass on his tight body. So now he could be bent over or have his long nimble legs flung over a guy's shoulders when he was filling his bubble but with dick. Because everybody knows gay guys are the best dances.<br />
Mocha hands were grabbing the expanse of the ass when the music suddenly stopped.<br />
Mikey stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. A thin glaze of sweat glistened off his body giving him a sexy shine. He thought absently how glad he was that he had decided to go with the 70's retro look. Sure it was queer porn sheik and the other guys in the band told him he looked flaming in it but at least he worked it out! He was looking fierce. He flicked a tie dyed nipple absently as he fussed with his hair. He knew he should have worn more eyeliner. Oh and these shoes were phat but they were killing his toes. <br />
Mikey gave himself a lecherous vain and sexy smile in the mirror.<br />
Mikey put one ultra tan, perfectly manicured finger into his mouth and then slid it along the edge of the out line of now uncut thick Hispanic cock, his nice coffee colored dick was so much better then the stubby white one he used to have. Everything was better now that he wasn't that short little bull of a man. Now he could finally let loose and dance, where tight clothes and show off his gorgeous muscular dancer's form. <br />
He giggled flamboyantly at the thought of him Mikey of "U Got Male" as an aggressive pudgy white rapper instead of the peurto-rican dancing god he now was. He vaguely remembered wanting to rap but every time he tried to concentrate on that he just wanted to shake his ass or move along with the pounding dance beats in his head. He loved his ass a big round booty that drove men wild. It was a dancer's ass well formed and muscled but with just enough fat to make it a bubble but he loved touching it now that he had it. He wanted other men to touch it now too. He took the hand that was gently stroking his Dick and ran it across the wide expanse of his ass cheeks and lower thighs, I'm such a queer little slut he though absently...good. <br />
Too bad the other guys in the band were all pretty much attached.... Oh well more dick for him. He strutted out of the Men's room of the Meat Market like the high riding queen he was and went right to the floor looking for a hot body to keep him warm that night.<br />
After careful selection he settled on a double dip, not his first, of course. But he took this couple home. Two other Latin guys...Because for some reason Mikey was feeling the hot blood of his heritage a lot tonight and was hungry for other island men like himself. One guy was this huge bodybuilder named David...but he pronounced it strangely...and the other one was obviously his wifey, he seemed a little jealous. But he didn't have any arguments later when Mikey showed them how limber he really was as he took the bodybuilder wheel barrel style and sucked the pretty shorter guy upside down... It's good all that dancing made him so flexible.<br />
<br />
</div></div></div><div class="arrows"><u><strong>CHAPTER 6</strong></u><br />
<br />
</div><div id="footer"><div class="nav"><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>The show was in full swing. Boys were dancing wildly in every corner of the crowded dance floor. Exposed torso's, flamboyant hand moves and half-naked conga lines proclaimed to the world that this was one wild gay bar. <br />
"I can't believe you wanted to come here!" Gino exclaimed loudly trying to talk over the thumping music he put one huge arm around Damein's elbow protectively. <br />
"Well you said you wanted to try and ya know get to know each other better, and since the only thing you really do is work out and party I thought I'd pick the activity we could do together where I had the option of consuming large amounts of alcohol." Damien answered eyeing the bacchanal of the club suspiciously. He had asked Gino out on purpose trying to interject some level of normality into their bizarre pseudo relationship. But he was reconsidering the intelligence of that decision. <br />
Gino was in his element gorgeous adored, a sexual god. He was wearing a baggy pair of skater pants and a tank top so tight Damien was convinced they'd have to cut it off of him. Damien feeling adventurous opted for a flame-designed shirt with a pair of tight ass hugging pin stripe black pants. He assumed they were ass hugging because since he had put them on Gino was unable to keep his hands from roaming all over the flesh of Damien's rear. Even now as they stood locked together, the Italian giant Adonis and his dark counterpart, he could feel one of Gino's massive paws searching behind his back tracing a trail down the cleft in his ass. <br />
Damein shook the hand off his ass irritably, he felt defenseless in this sea of gorgeous boys, rock hard pecs and superior attitudes. Especially in the uncomfortably tight clothes. He just wanted to be back in a baggy shirt and jeans with a cup of coffee and a three hundred-year-old book on Heretical Spanish Alchemy. Was that too much too ask? "Maybe we should go?" he said tentatively into Gino's ear.<br />
Gino was busy excitedly scanning the crowd and scooping the scene, "Why? We just got here!" He was happy as hell.<br />
Damien was about to angle for another escape when from behind him he heard, "GUUUUUURRRRLLLL!!!!!" <br />
They both turned. "D, D, D,D, D....Hmmmm you looking fierce chil'. Has dis big sexy piece of man given you the makeover you so desperately needed?" A sassy voice hollered at them.<br />
"Good evening Gabriel," Damien answered with a long-suffering frown and began to fidget with the confining cloth of his fiery shirt.<br />
The hot little Latin hairdresser was dressed only in a pair of Cutoff Shorts and a sheer tank top. His red tinted hair glinted with sparkles and he looked devastatingly sensual as usual, "Good evening Gabriel." Damien said patiently.<br />
"Listen here nosferatu don't roll your eyes up in your head like that, I am not like those easy going queens you live with. I will wupp your white ass. I was just sayin that for once you look hot, Sarah Plain and Queer." Then he smiled and turned to Gino with a florid turn and put one mocha hand across the expanse of Gino's jutting pecs. "And how are you, Big sexy piece of man?" he asked obviously flirting with Gino. <br />
"I'm fine Gabriel, How's David?" He asked with his wonderful dopey sincerity.<br />
Gabriel considered the room with a diva twirl, "Oh he's around here somewhere, I sent him to the bar to get me a Singapore Sling." <br />
Damien sighed heavily "Gabe that's such a girl drink."<br />
The beautiful Puerto Rican arched his shoulders angrily, "what's your point?" He asked with pursed lips. "And didn't I tell you not to call me that horrible name? I've told you a thousand times My name is "Gabriel, say it, "Gabriel", it's poetry it's smooth, it's "Gabriel." The entire time he spook his hands were moving with his fingers wagging.<br />
Damien laughed ironically and went back to tugging on the shirt.<br />
"What are you guys doing here anyway?" Gino asked as he began to gyrate to the music. He put one hand on the slope of Damien's hip and the other on his shoulder and started thumping to the music.<br />
"We were invited," A heavy and thick voice answered from the crowd. Just then the sea of faceless tanned bodies and bleached hair parted reveal a massive Latin bodybuilder wearing only a pair of leather shorts and thigh high leather boots. In one hand he carried a beer and in the other an ostentatious glass with an umbrella and what seemed to be a whole fruit bowl hanging off the edge.<br />
"There's my Boo!" Gabriel screamed excitedly and launched himself into the circle of his lover's arms.<br />
"Adios Mio, Mi Cortisone, Watch the damn drinks baby, do you know how hard it was to get through all those dancing guys without spilling these?" David said.<br />
"Aww I'm sorry baby, But it couldn't have been that bad, " he looked up at his massive over the straw of his drink with big innocent eyes, "I bet they saw those shoulders and that chest coming and just fell down in awe." <br />
David chuckled a hearty masculine chuckle that rolled down the depths of his huge trunk like chest, and swooped his boyfriend up into a passionate kiss. Their red lips fought against each other for a long time before David turned to Gino and Damien and said, "Now do you see why I love him so much?"<br />
"Yes!" Gino agreed adamantly<br />
"No!" Damien snidely answered at the same time.<br />
"Don't worry D, Some day you and Gino'll be as happy as me and my baby are." David said smiling as Gabriel licked the side of his massive trap.<br />
Damein coughed uncomfortably and quickly changed the subject making Gino visibly annoyed, "what do you mean you two were personally invited?"<br />
Both Latin lothario's gave him a wicked cat-that -ate -the-canary grin. "You know that hot boy group, "U got male" is performing tonight, right?" David asked.<br />
Gino began to smile the same lascivious smile, "yeah" he said interested.<br />
"Well you know the hot Cuban boy Mikey who does most of the dancing?" David continued teasing him along.<br />
"Yeah!" Gino's grin was even bigger.<br />
"Well guess who we took back to our place last night!" Gabriel screeched unable to stand the pressure. His hands clapping widely in self-pleasure. <br />
"No way!" Gino yelled slapping David on his wide back, the two buff He-men looking for all the world like two football pals discussing a good play. "Damn right man," David answered, "we hooked up with him last night at the "Meat Market" and he told his band was performing here and that we could get in for free!"<br />
"And we automatically jumped at the chance," Gabriel continued, "I mean you know how fucking EXCLUSIVE the WATERLOO is."<br />
Gino nodded vehemently making the large mounds of pec muscle jump up and down, "Yeah I was so siked when Damein told me he could get me in here. I'd been trying to get in here for the past month with no freaking luck."<br />
Damein smiled looking around the once dingy and now ultra hip Waterloo nightclub. Dirty walls and been replaced by huge mirrors and broken glass murals of different party scenes. Bad lighting was replaced with wild strobes, flashing colors and disco balls. All in all it was a vast improvement. <br />
Gabriel gave Damien a skeptical look "How did you get tickets?" he asked, with emphasized disbelief on the "you".<br />
"You know there are things about me that you people don't know." Damien said darkly his eyes getting the dark mysterious cast they took on when he was being cryptic. <br />
Gabriel gave him a bitchy look, "honey if your talking about that tired red robe in your closet and the virgins you've been sacrificing in the backyard on fool moons, We know and frankly we think you need to see a shrink. " They all laughed at his joke.<br />
Damien was sardonically silent and then with a proud grin he stated to all three boys, "I know the band."<br />
"Yeah right," They barked. <br />
"Alright ladies why don't we just back off of Damein...I don't care what criminal act or magical conjuration it took for him to get tickets to this I'm just glad he decided to bring me." And then Gino expanded his huge arms and grabbed a suffering Damien into the bow of his embrace, kissing the nape of his neck seductively.<br />
"LADIES AND... Er....WHO ARE WE KIDDING! GENTLEMEN LISTEN UP!!!" A brassy voice boomed over the loud music and the entire club suddenly stopped. All the dancing men turned from their revelry and looked toward the stage. A drag queen with long blonde hair and a Charlie's angel style outfit addressed the crowd from a raised stage that sat behind the bar. "Allow me the humble pleasure of introducing you to the proprietress of club Waterloo, the first lady of the cities nightlife, the queen of flowing liqueur, the muse of modern entertainment the diva divine herself...."<br />
"Oh for Christ sake!" a bawdy and familiar voice yelled from off stage. And then a woman in a flowing black gown that twirled with attitude around every movement of her zaftig figure charged on stage and grabbed the mike. Her hair was done in a semi-French revolutionary style, high with cascading ringlets and fell onto her amply exposed breasts. "That bull shit could have gone on all night!" She turned with a radiant smile of delight toward the crowd. Deana was luminescent as she held the microphone haphazardly. "How are we all doin tonight!" She asked coltishly batting impulsively long lashes. Her buxom form bounding across the stage challengingly. "If ya didn't know, my name's Deana and the Waterloo is my dive!"<br />
The crowd went wild; guys were screaming and clapping.<br />
"So if you have a problem with the service, or the booze or anything at all, don't be afraid to come right here to the source herself and tell me how you feel!" she smiled beatifically making the layers of sparkle eye shadow around her eyes seem even more radiant, "And then I will personally see to it that...you are thrown the fuck OUT!"<br />
The crowd laughed and went wild again bathing in her brassy humor and bold persona.<br />
"But half you bitches are OUT enough for the whole damn city, so it doesn't really matter do it?" She giggled and the crowd of half-naked guys, club kids and drinkers laughed with her.<br />
She scanned the crowd and for a second her eyes lit up with pleasure and then she returned to addressing the whole swishing her skirts with a diva's audacity, "ya know the next time I say a prayer to have this hell hole full of hot sexy men who only want to dance and make love...I'm going to be more God damned specific!" They roared with laughter.<br />
"Do you here that honey?" She asked to a specific member of the adoring throng.<br />
The crowd parted like the Red Sea until there was just a direct eyeline between the diva holding court on the stage and a shyly smiling Damien. "Hey, how was I supposed to know you wanted them to be sexy, horny, dancing STRIAGHT men?" He answered archly. He moved forward pressing toward the stage, everyone in the club including his own shocked friends and Gino staring at him, "And really Deana it's your own fault you said you wanted them sexy and able to dance and you know damn well straight boys can't dance, they just convulse in time to the beat."<br />
The crowd laughed and cheered. Damien reached the stage and Deana extended one elegantly gloved hand toward him and helped him up. <br />
"Oh honey you're so right straight boys would just get on my nerves! They'd just want to listen to that rock shit and talk about pussy. Hell if I wanted to here people talk about pussy I'd open a dike bar! I want to here about Dick!" She said slapping him hard on the back.<br />
Laughter cascaded through the large club and Damien smiled a pleased grim looking around at the faces of all the happy club boys. As the guys laughed and talked to each other Deana leaned over and clutched Damein's hand tightly, "I don't know what you did babydoll, but thank you." Her round doe eyes, covered in luxurious makeup seemed ready to tear up, "you are my Fairy godmother for sure...Thank you.." <br />
Damien stared at her touched, or at least as touch as a person who constantly professed to be the recipient of an unsuccessful heart transplant could be. <br />
She turned back to the crowd and was again, the consummate hostess and entertainer." and speaking of dick Babydolls do we have five great ones for you! And they just happen to be attached to the hottest boy band in the nation!"<br />
Now Club Waterloo was like d-day, guys were screaming and hollering ripping at their clothes and practically foaming at the Mouth. Deana now had to practically scream to be heard over the excitement, "For you entertainment tonight club Waterloo is proud to present the only openly queer boy group or the only ones with enough balls to admit!" She laughed and so did the club, "The five men who are currently breaking the top twenty with their dance single "Sensitivity" Kyle, Darren, Ryan, TJ and Mikey of "U GOT MALE!!!!"<br />
The lights in the club began to swirl around the stage as from behind the streamer curtain behind Deana and Damien five figures emerged. They were all in various forms of undress but each wore a costume made of skintight leather. <br />
Kline stepped into the light first wearing a blue leather bomber jacket that did little to cover the large planes of his bare chest. His pants were skin tight blue leather too and clung to his body so well they made his ass look like it was two luscious blueberry bubbles. His heavy package was clearly displayed and its low carriage was impressive enough to elicit gasps from nearby audience members.<br />
Next came Darren.. He head on a pair of orange leather overalls and nothing else, his young well defined torso seeming even more impossibly stream lined in their baggy girth. He had on an orange leather backward cabby cap and a lot of sparkle makeup. He minced forward seductively and grabbed Kyle's hand quickly as if the quick separation of their introduction was too much for him to bare.<br />
Next came Ryan looking very sexy if not imposing in a pair of red leather chaps and a red leather harness. His huge body builder's body strained against the confining leather like it would burst the seams at any moment. Every move of his over bulked frame undulated with muscular definition. He swaggered to the front of the stage like the meaty prize bull he was his heavy thighs rubbing together and his hips rolling like sweaty muscle sex on legs. <br />
He was followed quickly by TJ who sauntered suggestively up next him on bright leather boots with a 6 inch heal and covered his impossibly long legs up to mid thigh. His Go-go boots did less to cover his gorgeous legs then to accentuate the beauty of his powerful calves and tight thighs. He wore a pair of short shorts and a wide yellow collar. His body glistened with sweat and he couldn't help himself from constantly touching himself, running his hands all over and letting them roam longingly over his tightly packed cock while winking at several men in the front row. His tight compact dangerously slim torso seemed to burst from the waist of the tight leather shorts like a viscous V. his ripped pecs bounced as he flicked his nipples and swiveled his hips. He stopped his audacious little sex show however when Ryan boot one big hard and firm hand quickly on his delicious little butt with a thwack. Making him jump in his go-go boots. <br />
And last but definitely not least came Mikey. He emerged from the back in all his glory. His flawless cocoa skin and Adonis body bared to all the crowd save for the small areas left to the imagination that were concealed by a white leather thong. He also sported a white leather cowboy hat. He kicked one thickly corded and broadly muscled leg up into the air until it was against his jaw and then licked down his own knee, sending the crowd into hysterics. Then he turned and began to shake his stunning broad ass making the firm round ass cheeks shake enticingly.<br />
The audience was insane yelling, screaming, clapping and behaving like wild animals. <br />
Kyle moved toward the front of the stage beside Deana and turned to her, "Before we perform our hit single, we'd like to do a special number in salute of Dean and her fabulous club and of course, our dear friend Damien," he then moved toward Damien and put one hand on his flame coated shoulder making him very uncomfortable. Then the other members, cute Darren, sexy TJ, Hunky Ryan and hot Mikey all came up and collectively grabbed his ass. Guys in the crowd began hooting and Damien's face behind the length of his bangs began to redden as deep as his shirt. <br />
In the audience Big dumb David seemed confused his partner Gabriel seemed jealous and green with envy. Gino however had that familiar look of suspicion as if to say, "oh yeah Hamlet something is definitely rotten in Denmark".<br />
Damein just smiled and shrugged.<br />
"Wow look at D, go up there," David said as he hugged Gabriel tightly. <br />
"Yeah he actually looks like he's having a good time, too bad he doesn't let loose and have fun like this all the time!" Gabriel observed.<br />
Gino was quiet and thoughtful and then looked ahead at his strange roommate and resident noir crush. "Yeah too bad..." <br />
And then all five guys on stage closed in on the audience humming a refined harmony, And Darren began to sing as the music drummed up behind them with a heavy and familiar rhythm, <br />
"MY MY at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender,"<br />
They al sang "OH YEAH!"<br />
"And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way...<br />
The History book on the shelf, is always repeating itself!"<br />
"WATERLOO!" Again they all sang and were dancing in sexy unison.<br />
"I was defeated you won the war, I was defeated you won the war! Promise to love you forever more!"<br />
When they sang the next line Damien smiled a big dark Grin bearing his teeth, a sinister tickled smirk that only Gino caught.<br />
"COULDN'T ESCAPE IF I WANTED TOO!"</div></div><div class="back"><div class="backmatter afterword"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-86732350139283999742011-01-16T16:51:00.001-08:002011-01-17T14:53:29.543-08:005.) LET'S GET PHYSICAL<div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">CHAPTER 1</h3><div class="chapter"><br />
</div><div class="chapter"><br />
</div><div>Edward, Mark, Tony and Jarod had been lunchtime workout buddies for almost three years. They had been old college buddies who had stayed in touch and now used their lunch hours to keep in shape and talk shop. All the guys were Frat boy veterans who hadn't really left the frat house mentality far behind them. Because as the old saying goes "you can take the Boy out of the frat but... <br />
Edward was a corporate shark and even though it had been a long time since he was the president of the Frat, he still took the lead around his old buddies. After graduation he became an investment banker his dark hair and boy next door good looks made it easy for him to charm his way into the hearts of his female clients. Edward had blue eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face, with the strongest jaw line you had ever seen. He was arrogant and commanding and had he believed his intelligence, good looks and connections gave him every right to behave that way.<br />
Tony was most of the time a Latin lover straight from central casting spending as much time in numerous women's beds as he did at the uptown law firm he worked for. During college he had held the reputation for being able to bed any woman on campus and entire sorority houses used to line up to watch him play volleyball in the back yard. He could easily trade in his legal briefs for the Calvin Klien jockey variety and climb up on a billboard. His black hair and coffee and cream skin made him irresistible to woman and he was never in short supply of them.<br />
Mark who was the most aggressive of them all had spent the majority of college as a wall of muscle line man on the football team and still seemed to have trouble leaving behind the bully mentality of his early twenties, he was brutally masculine and often didn't act his age. He was working in an advertising agency as a consultant on sports campaigns. He had kept his hair in a shoulder length mane since freshman year and it gave him a look that seemed to be Connan the executive. He still looked imposing with his 6'4 frame and massive shoulders and continued his big bad ass attitude even though he put on a suit and tie like the rest of them. <br />
Finally Jarod was making a good living outside the city as a high paid contractor it was good old fashioned blood and sweat work and it showed in his tightly packed muscular frame. He was a nice unassuming salt of the earth kind of guy with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He really didn't need to invest in these workout sessions but he did so he could see his buddies. <br />
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday they met at the 64th street gym to catch up and work out. They all worked out mainly so they could make sure to be the primmest catch at the clubs and bars they went to together. All of them were pushing thirty and they were all painfully aware that they were soon going to have to settle down and leave the one nightstands to a younger crowd. None of them were very happy about that prospect. <br />
They had maintained this routine without event until one Monday when they noticed that the 64th street gym had been sold to a new owner. They had thought nothing about it at first but began to be disturbed by the new element the new owners were welcoming in.<br />
They were all sitting in the locker room changing out of their suits and into their sweats. When some strange guy walked passed in a pair of skintight yellow and blue striped biker shorts and nothing else. He was in great shape, he looked like one of the models out of a fitness magazine with a sculpted torso and box cut pecs however he had brightly died red hair and a two big hoops in his ears. He was very out of place in the locker room of the upward mobile 64th St gym. He was a sore thumb amongst its Abbercrombie and Finch clientele. <br />
The four men sat staring at each other in their sweat pants and college sweatshirts, "who was that?" Tony asked confusedly.<br />
"Some fruit." Mark grunted dismissively.<br />
"What's he doing here don't they all stay downtown?" Edward tone was elitist with a definitive distaste. <br />
Mark looked darkly and then stood up "Someone should tell him this is NOT that kind of gym."<br />
Jarod put a hand on Mark's big arm "Let it go man. He ain't botherin' nobody."<br />
"Yeah he better not." Mark said darkly.<br />
"Forget the fairy man, how are things with you and Rachel?" Tony said changing the subject as he slid out of his Dockers and into a pair of blue sweat shorts. <br />
"Things would be great, If she would quit hassling me all the time. She's always callin me and shit." Mark answered in a grumbling rumble. He always seemed to be in a perpetual state of pissed off. He always had something to be violently angry about. "And she's always talkin about how I should make a damn commitment to her. Like I want to cut off my sex life at 30. That bitch's getting her walking papers."<br />
"Sorry I asked, you should do what I do find a new girlfriend every night. Variety is the spice of life man." Tony laughed.<br />
"But haven't you been seeing Rachel for 4 months." Edward pointed out as he undid his tie.<br />
"What's? Your point?" mark said blankly.<br />
All four of them broke into a chorus of barking laughter.<br />
"What's so funny guys?" <br />
The four friends turned in unison to the new voice. Standing in front of them in nothing but a towel and a smile was the guy in the biker pants. <br />
Tony cleared his throat and focused intently on putting on his sneakers. "Nothing man."<br />
The new guy looked around questioningly and just smiled again. "Well, anyway, My Name's Kenny. I'm new here.'<br />
"We noticed." Edward said as he slid his Duke sweatshirt over his head. The ice in his voice sent a chill through the locker room. <br />
They all turned to leave as a group without even looking at Kenny. <br />
Mark however turned around and loomed menacingly over the new member; "Since you're new here I think I should point out that the ladies locker room is across the hall. That's where you Queens should change." And then he pushed the towel clad other man like they were in 6th grade and on the recess yard. <br />
"Screw you man." Kenny retorted as he prepared to swing. <br />
Things might have gotten ugly, but Jarod was in between them and pushing Mark's big frame away, "Mark hod old are you man?" <br />
Mark turned around but shot one last insult back, "You can't screw me bitch you ain't my type."<br />
Edward was practically laughing his ass of by the time they got to the main weight room. His face was red with mirth, "Did you see that guys face I think you were gonna make him cry." <br />
"You guys should just leave him alone, " Jarod said quietly<br />
Edward shot him an irritated glance "Come on Jarod the minute you let one of them in the rest of them won't be able to wait to hang their purses right next to our gym bags." <br />
"I guess you right," he relented good naturedly, giving into Edwards superior personality.<br />
The 64th St Gym was a very utilitarian no fuss, no frills gym. It wasn't much more then a college weight room. It was bare walls, tiled floors and work out equipment. It was what Mark called a real mans gym. There wasn't a juice bar, there weren't personal trainers and there wasn't blaring music pumping out at you. It was perfect for the guys. This was their refuge the one place they could escape from all the hassles of their high pressure jobs and the outside world.<br />
They were on the floor for about two minutes before a beautiful lithe woman in spandex hopped off her stare master and stormed passed Tony in a swirl of auburn hair. "Asshole."<br />
Tony turned around "Puta." He called after her. <br />
"What was that about" Edward asked from behind a butterfly curl. <br />
"Just some stupid bitch." Tony spat.<br />
Edward laughed again, "Tony is there ANYONE in this Gym you haven't slept with?" <br />
"No, he's gone through all the chicks with memberships. He's gonna have to switch gyms." Jarod added laughing.<br />
"She can't handle the fact that we had a one time thing."<br />
"Man she was hot, you didn't keep going out with her?" Mark questioned as he followed the woman's escape with a leer of interest.<br />
"Why would I take her out again, I got want I wanted the first time?" He answered matter of factly making Edward and Jarod laughed again.<br />
The woman who must have been listening to their conversation turned around and gracefully through them the bird with a delicate gesture of her hand. "Maybe people wouldn't treat her like a WHORE if she didn't dress like one!" Tony yelled after her.<br />
The guys continued the rest of their workout discussing business, how this boss was trying to get one over on them or how this client was trying to back out of a deal. Eventually the conversation switched to sex. Mark who was the only one in what could conceivably called a relationship just talked about how he was dumping his girlfriend. Tony regaled them with dirty tales of his sexual escapades with woman all over the East Side. Jarod admitted to being on a few dates but not really getting anywhere and of course Edward was far to busy with work to even pick some girl up at a bar and take her home for a quick lay. It was painfully apparent that the only things that filled their days were work and the occasional woman. But mostly work. They were power hungry mosagonists left over from Gloria Stienem's Cultural Revolution.<br />
"I'm going to be late for a meeting," Tony complained as he toweled of his sweat-drenched forehead and pushed back his black hair out of his eyes. <br />
"Damn do you think it's hot in here?" Jarod asked as he peeled his sweat-darkened sweatshirt off his head revealing his fur-covered torso. His well-proportioned chest was coated in a thick carpet of dark brown hair. <br />
Edward chortled, "That's our gorilla boy."<br />
They all laughed, except Jarod, at the old nickname.<br />
"I didn't think that was funny when we were in school and I don't think it is now man." He complained as he wiped away the seat from his neck with the shirt.<br />
"Why Jarod, It wasn't that bad." Mark said with a punctuated punch in his arm.<br />
Tony laughed even harder, "He's still pissed from the time he got pass out drunk and we put all that electrical tape on his chest."<br />
"I still have scars dickhead," Jarod mumbled under his breath.<br />
The other three men were well into a second brawl of laughter when music began to blast at them from all sides of the room. <br />
They stopped lifting and Edward looked around dumbfounded "What the hell?" <br />
The music was a loud rap, filled with deep bass and pounding rhythms.<br />
"Someone turn that shift off!" Tony yelled angrily.<br />
A maintenance man at the other side of the room turned around quickly and apologized, "Sorry sir," he dropped a panel of circuitry in his hand and the loud vibrations stopped.<br />
"Thanks." Tony sneered back. "When did this gym start blaring bad music?"<br />
"Hey man aren't you homme boyz supposed to love that stuff?" Mark joked.<br />
"Shut-up Mark you know I hate that thug bullshit. Everyone thinks just because I'm Puerto-Rican I must be in to all that Tommy Hillfiger, Rapper wanna be, ghetto bullshit. It's embarrassing." Tony complained with his nose upturned. <br />
"Come on you must have at least own one Big Poppa CD." Mark teased.<br />
"Tony's right," Edward interjected taking over the conversation, "what is going on around here, the fruit in the locker Room and now stereo's being installed. I wonder what else these new owners have planned." Edward could see big changes coming. Big changes he hadn't given permission for. He Excused himself from the work out and went looking or some answers.<br />
Edward made a b-line for the manager's office but found it vacant except for a couple for boxes. "Can I help you?"<br />
Edward turned around and came face to face with a hulking platinum blonde Italian who wore a suit with no tie. "I'm looking for the manager, Joel." Edward answered flatly, eyeing the obviously radically muscled pretending to be professional kid skeptically.<br />
"Oh I'm sorry with the new owners of the gym and the renovation Joel's been replaced." The kid explained congenially. <br />
"What? So who are you?" <br />
The guy extended one ring-adorned hand and said, "I'm Gino, the replacement." <br />
This man who was taking over his sanctuary was not only a trendy little muscle boy, he couldn't have been more then 22. "They got rid of Joel and hired you? And what did you say about renovations?"<br />
Gino gave him a steady look that spoke volumes "why don't we discuss this in my office uh...?" he trailed of searching for the name of the impolite customer.<br />
"My name is Edward Barnes" Came the answer through gritted teeth, "And isn't this your office?'<br />
"Hell no," Gino laughed "this closet? I'm moving over into one of the store rooms, they're so much bigger."<br />
As he followed the man who was barely more then a child to his new office, which was just another change that was rubbing Edward the wrong way, he noticed how drastically the clientele was changing. That fruit Kenny from the locker room wasn't the only new face walking around. There were all these gym rats running around who he had never met before, not to mention contractors and other workman. Just what was going around here?<br />
When Gino was safely behind his desk He looked up at Edward looming over him irritably. "Now what exactly seems to be the problem Eddie?"<br />
"My name is Edward and the problem is you are turning our gym into a gay bar with weights." He spat.<br />
Gino's jaw set, and his fists began to itch to make contact with Edward's face, "Excuse me?" <br />
"No I don't think I will, just what do the people you work for think they're doing kid?"<br />
"The new owners have a lot of experience in running successful health club chains Edward, they have three downtown that..."<br />
`"Downtown? I should have known. You're going to bring those people in here?" Edward raged.<br />
"And what element would that be?" Again Gino was barely maintaining his hot Mediterranean temper.<br />
"Fags."<br />
Gino was now on his feet, "Listen here you..."<br />
"No you listen, this is a nice respectable place where regular guys go to hang out and work out stress from their real jobs. Not watch themselves bench press in a ceiling mirror and then blow someone in the showers." Edward ran on "Me and my buddies have real jobs kid. We have to deal with all kinds of bullshit stress and pressure all week and our only way to let it off is to come here and take it out on the weights."<br />
"I'm sure you'll find that after you get to some more of the clientele you'll find that you have a lot more in common then you know." Gino grated as he mentally took the 30 something by the neck and jacked him against a wall. <br />
"You know what, I wish I could be like these fruits running around the city with nothing to worry them except their amount of body fat and their hair. Just another demoralized imbecile bouncing from bed to bed then to the gym. I wish that my friends and I could live the carefree life of these idiot queer bitches but you see kid, we're real men with actual jobs. It would be so much easier to forget the problems of the corporate world and let my libido and my dick do all my thinking for me" Edward said continuing his tirade. "But if you think your going to take away the only place we can relax you've got another think coming."<br />
The blonde settled his bulging olive skinned body back into his chair with a calm expression, "I'm sorry you feel that way Edward but the contracts have been signed ownership has been transferred just what do you plan to do."<br />
"I plan," he said in a mocking tone, "To tie this place up in litigation so long that no ones going to be lifting 5lbs in here for years. We all signed membership contracts with certain stipulations a hundred of which have been broken." <br />
Gino remained calm, "I certainly hope it doesn't come to that."<br />
"Then get you and all your pink wearin' buddies out of my gym." And with that he was out the slamming door. <br />
Then he went and grabbed the other guys from their sets, "Come on guys we're getting the hell out of here."<br />
"All right" Mark said.<br />
And Tony nodded.<br />
"Why" asked Jake confusedly.<br />
"Because I said so that's why. Now move." Edward commanded.<br />
Mark and Tony went and got their stuff and as they were leaving Tony asked Eddie what was going on, "I'm gonna call my lawyer and after that I'm pretty sure we won't have any more problems with this new owner."<br />
They all high fived.<br />
<br />
Gino watched the four quickly approaching middle age men slap each other five through the windows of his new office. And tapped his finger against the desktop. As they went on their separate ways he finally came to a difficult decision. He leaned over and dialed a familiar number from his office speakerphone. After numerous rings a tired impatient voice picked up, "It is ten o'clock in the morning on and I don't have a class until one...If someone isn't on fire I'm going to be real pissed."<br />
"It's me Gino," he said out loud to the air.<br />
"What's your point." The voice on the phone snapped.<br />
"Stop being a cranky bitch...I need your help." <br />
There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then "All right what seems to be the problem..."<br />
""I need you to do me a favor."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><strong>CHAPTER 2</strong></div><div class="sitename"></div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>Edward didn't exactly have time to call his lawyer. The minute he got back to his office he was told he was going to have to fly out to LA and close a major deal. So he just let the threat lay there and assumed that would be enough to scare the Italian punk.<br />
Two weeks later he returned from his trip to California with little more then a tan to show for his trouble. The deal had fallen through and he was now looking forward to getting out his frustration by working out with his buddies. It was almost twelve so he had just enough time to drop his luggage off at his apartment and get a gym bag,<br />
He was however startled when he walked to his good old gym to find it completely renovated. The walls were florescent colors and the front facade had been made into a huge window so that people could look into the gym as they passed by. The sign at the top of the building read, "Fitness on 64th." As Eddie gazed stunned into the gym he could see large groups of well muscled hardly dressed men working out inside. He stood there staring angrily until two guys walked passed him through the door laughing, "see something you like man?" one joked.<br />
Edward was enraged. He had discussed this with that Gino person; this was not to happen. And that little jerk actually went ahead and turned his gym into some kind of sideshow.<br />
He picked up his gym bag and stalked into the gym, as he walked passed the clientele he made a repulsed mental note that there weren't any woman in the gym, only hard bodied guys in spandex. This Gino guy was gonna get it. He assumed the other guys had seen the changes and were just waiting for him to get back and fix it. They probably were skipping their workouts instead of suffering through this circus.<br />
Edward barged into the manager's office with out even knocking. "What the hell did you do?"<br />
Gino's darkly completed face looked up at him in shock, "Mr. Barnes? What are you doing?"<br />
"I'll tell you what I'm doing, I'm pulling out my membership from this gay bar with barbells." Edward spat. His slicked back dark hair that fell into his eyes as he raged.<br />
Gino didn't seem too worried but he did seem slightly confused, "Mr. Barnes didn't you receive a complimentary care package?"<br />
"What?"<br />
"I sent you and your friends a gift, so that you wouldn't feel out of place as the gym changed management." Gino added with a smile.<br />
"A fruit basket isn't going to change my mind." Eddie send with a condescending tone that would have been better suited for a five year old not man Gino's age.<br />
"Really Eddie? Your friends had a big change of heart after they got theirs." Gino smiled.<br />
"Don't call me Eddie you...What did you say about my friends?"<br />
The peroxide blonde man stood up with a broad smirk, his muscles rippled underneath the constricting red tank top and shorts he wore, "Your buddies don't seem to have anymore complaints, as a matter of fact they're quite happy."<br />
"Yeah right!" Edward shot back, "I'm sure when I call them they'll be just as pissed as I am,"<br />
"Don't worry, you don't have to call them. You can talk to them right now. They're all here I think..."<br />
"What?" Edward asked.<br />
"They're all out on the floor maybe you should talk about this with them." The big Italian ushered him out of his office while Edward was still in a state of confusion.<br />
He stood outside Gino's door trying to take in the changes made to the gym, he could here Gino dial his phone from behind the door and say, "Hey buddy it's me. Let me just say...man you rule!"<br />
The Gym was larger now with different sections, one for rowing machines, steppers and treadmills another for weight machines and another for free weights. In the middle there was a large round bar. And all around there were gorgeous men sweating and straining their large muscles. Where were his friends in this? He scanned the crowd for mark's long hair and height, but couldn't find him anywhere.<br />
He was walking by the juice bar he heard someone call out "Hey B? Waz up?"<br />
Edward turned instinctively and saw that the call had come from the young man attending the Juice bar. The bar advertised a wide variety of protein shakes and beverages and the young guy who was serving them looked like he was drinking his share of the merchandise. He wore all black jogging pants and a blank tank top that strained against his well-formed pecs. His muscles were lithe and taunt what some people would call "cut". To show off how well sculpted his body was he had tanned it an obscenely dark color making him look more like someone at Miami Beach then in a Manhattan Gym. His dark hair was cropped in a close cut fade leaving just a light fuzz on his head that connected to his thin side burns which climbed across his jaw line and into his thin goatee'. He smiled an inviting little smirk out from under too long eyelashes. The tanned kid looked at him again "Hey man where you been hanging? We haven't heard from you in mad long."<br />
Edward stared at him. He almost fell over when he realized the muscled kid working behind the bar was Tony. With his hair shaved, the juvenile facial hair and the tan he looked like a 20-year-old. Tony had always been in good shape but now he looked like while Ed was away he had lived and slept at a bench press. He was pure cut muscle. The progress was nothing short of impossible.<br />
"Tony what are you doing behind that bar." Ed asked exasperatedly.<br />
"Servin' drinks." Came the simple answer, without a hint of sarcasm.<br />
"I can see that. Why aren't you at work?"<br />
Tony smiled and out down the clothe he was washing the surface of the bar with, "Yo Man I got some large news for you, but this...This be work, Yo." His dark skin was split with a big white toothy grin.<br />
"What?!" he almost yelled.<br />
"That thing you said about our lives being to stressful got to me man. That wack law gig kept pullin me down. I needed to cut that triflin' shit." Tony explained, and punctuated his statement with a couple sharp hand motions right out of a rap video.<br />
"I don't understand you, why are you talking like that?" Edward asked impatiently.<br />
"Ah it ain't nothin', just tryin' to get back some of the fun that job took from me. I quit the firm and Gino was down enough to give me a job at the gym. And it's sweet too, I ain't gotta worry about shit. No more hassles with clients and briefs. It's the ill job. And I still have time to pick up a couple shifts at this other place at night." Tony said happily.<br />
Ed was beyond speech, "You quit your law firm... to work here?"<br />
"Yeah"<br />
His friend had gone from an upward mobile office Don Juan to a muscled hood rat in a matter of days. And after hearing him talk in this knew halting speech and looking into his eyes vacant of all complex thought, Edward got the distinct impression that his IQ had dropped a couple points.<br />
He was staring at his friend in silence when one of the anonymous gym rats leaned over the bar and smacked Tony on the ass. "Hey, get to work." The guy said with a laugh.<br />
Edward was on his way to confront the queer and excepted Tony to already be in mid-swing, but he stopped suddenly when he heard Tony giggling vapidly in his dark baritone. He turned to see his friend's eyebrow arched invitingly and his new goatee' s split by an inviting smirk. "What kind of work are you talkin' bout Boo?" Then to Edward's horror he put his hand on the thin jogging material that covered his too firm ass and began to rub flirtatiously.<br />
The guy laughed, "Geez T, your such a slut."<br />
"You know it, that's how I roll baby," they both laughed.<br />
Edward was gone before they turned around to see him make a quick escape. Something was really wrong. What the hell was going on with Tony? It was to weird, he was in such a rush that he walked right into a brick wall.<br />
A brick wall of muscle.<br />
He walked headfirst into a big body builder in a red and white striped singlet. He turned around and gave Ed a big smile and said, "Careful where you're walking there buddy."<br />
"Mark?"<br />
"Eddie! I haven't seen you in a while!" The mountain of ridiculous muscle said to him.<br />
For the second time that Day Edward stared speechless at the transformation of one of his friends. Mark had always been a big guy, good Nordic stock that made him tall and broad shouldered with a barrel chest but the gorilla who stood in front of him was a far cry from good genes. Slabs of grotesquely exaggerated rippled underneath a thin layer of too tan skin dissected by a hundred pulsing veins. Mark looked exactly like Connan the barbarian now. Only Connan wouldn't be caught dead in the candy cane striped singlet that mark was sporting proudly.<br />
"Mark you must have gained 50 pounds!" Edward stammered.<br />
The hulk actually blushed, "Oh no I've just been taking supplements and really concentrating on my training, Kenny says I should be ready for competition in a couple weeks."<br />
The shock of Mark's massively altered form had let Edward gloss over a few other obvious changes, the most jarring Mark's pony tail, his long hair that had been his blonde pride since college was shaved in a close crew cut that would have made a drill sergeant proud.<br />
"What'd you do to your hair man?"<br />
He used one big-gunned arm to touch the short spiky hair effeminently, "Well Kenny said it looked kinda faggy and that it would take away from my body during competition." The big voice wasn't near as commanding as it once had been, now there was a definite shy tone, as if he was unsure of everything he said," So we went and got it cut...I'm still getting used to it."<br />
"What the fuck is going?" Edward's head was starting to pound, the bizarreness of the gym was giving him a massive headache. He just kept staring at Mark. He had to be at least 275 pounds of solid thick muscle. He looked like one of those trashy body builders who paraded around in posing trucks. There was no way he could have gotten this big in two weeks naturally. He was just too big. His size was disturbing. Huge pecs, thighs like granite pillars and biceps so wide he probably had trouble clapping his damn hands. "Are you on steroids man?"<br />
"NO, Marky here is an all natural competitor." A self-satisfied voice behind him said. A red haired man handed Mark a towel to dry the sweat on his brow. After a couple seconds of intense memory searching he recognized the fit red head as the guy Mark had almost beat the shit out of.<br />
"What's all this about competing? What the hell are you talking about." Edward lost his footing and stumbled back into the seat of a butterfly press.<br />
Mark seemed like he was about to answer but instead docilely deferred to Kenny who took the upper hand almost immediately, "Hasn't mark told you? He's decided to become a professional body builder, as a matter of fact we're flying out to California next week for a competition."<br />
Mark shook his head happily from behind the other man. Like a dog. A big dumb muscle bound dog.<br />
"A what? A body Builder? You gotta be kidding me." He yelled.<br />
"No," Kenny answered dripping with attitude. "As a matter of fact I'm his trainer."<br />
"Mark how are you managing to spend all this time at the gym, The agency must be doing back flips that they're so pissed." Edward tried to reason.<br />
"He doesn't work their anymore do you mark?" Kenny pushed on before mark had a chance to answer.<br />
Mark shook his head simply. Staying quiet, letting Kenny be in charge. As long as Edward had known mark he had never known him to let anyone speak for him much less order him around the way this little gym rat seemed to do.<br />
"Kenny thought it would be better if I just focused on getting into top shape, so I told the agency that instead of just consulting for the sports magazines I was going to be in them instead!" His huge shoulders swelled and his bulky body shook with a dopey conceit as Mark gushed on inanely. His eyes were full of a shy pride. It was like his personality took a complete 180.<br />
Edward gained his bearings and judged the situation. He gave Kenny a dark look, "You sure are letting Kenny hear convince you into all kinds of things aren't you?"<br />
Kenny returned his look with a saucy roll of his eyes, "OH I've convinced Mark of all kinds of things, right baby." And then unbelievably Mark leaned into Kenny appreciatively and gave him the deepest kiss He had ever seen mark give anyone. The Gym rat and the bodybuilder groped each other hungrily running their hands tentatively over the hardly concealing lycra of their bodies. Mark seemed just happy to be in the other man's embrace and only too glad to let him roam his hands all over the wide planes of his absurdly muscled body. Kenny was grabbing his ass flagrantly not caring how it looked. And mark just let him. They parted their intense kiss and Kenny gave mark's exposed quarter shaped nipple a parting tweak. Mark just acted like a piece of meat that was happy someone wanted to use him.<br />
After Kenny let go of the once proud Lineman's lip with a parting playful bite, Mark looked at Edward and excitedly said, "Kenny and I are lovers. I'm moving in with him, isn't that great!"<br />
Ed's mouth felt hot, he felt like he was going to throw-up, so he grabbed his bag and headed for the door with a hand over his mouth.<br />
He had fallen down a really fucked up rabbit hole.<br />
He brushed past some tall guy on his way out the sliding glass doors. "Hey partner what's the rush?" Edward turned toward the familiar voice.<br />
"Jarod, thank God it's you have you seen Tony and mark they've lost their minds." Edward said recognizing the good-natured easygoing face of his most reliable friend. And then he noticed Jarod's clothes and realized that he to had probably been a victim of the pod people. Easy going casual corner Jake was covered head to toe in black leather and he was carrying a motorcycle helmet on top of his gym bag. In all the years Edward had known Jarod the raciest thing had ever seen him wear was a pair of jeans with a frayed hole in the side. Now he stood before him in the parking lot of the gym in a pair of black leather chaps, blue jeans, and brand new shiny leather jacket.<br />
"I saw them yesterday they seemed fine." Came the gruff response. "You're the one that's been missing in action." Jarod had three days worth of five o'clock shadow on his face and his hair was greased back tightly against his scalp, making it shine almost as black as the leather jacket.<br />
"Look I don't understand what's going on here man, I feel like I'm going crazy or something.<br />
Jarod regarded him with a wolfish smile. He dipped into the top of his knee high steel tipped leather boots and retrieved a beat up cigarette lighter and then pulled a cigar out of his top pocket. Jarod used to cough like a baby when some one else lit up...he didn't smoke. "Tell you what," he said as he lit the stogie, "My shift at the gym is going to start in about ten minutes but I'm done at ten why don't you stop by my place later, and let Daddy make you feel all better." He gave him a sultry smile and unzipped his jacket to reveal a shirtless barrel chest covered in thick hair as if to entice him.<br />
"What the hell is going on?" Edward roared not so much shocked at this newest development and made a move to his car.<br />
"Not so fast sweet cheeks," Jarod barked and grabbed Edward by his arm. He tried to break away but was stunned at the strength in Jarod's grip. "Next time you bring that skinny ass around here I bet things are going to be pretty different, and when that happens I want you to know that I'm the first one on your dance card bitch." Jarod's unshaven face was right in front of his nose. The stench of smoke, sweat and the musk of masculine leather were so overpowering it was making him light headed. "You pushed me around for to long Eddie and your going to start making up for it, first by licking my boots good and clean and then if your lucky I'll let you lick this good and clean." HE grabbed his rigid leather outlined dick.<br />
"Get off me asshole." Edward yelled and broke free.<br />
Edward was fuming all the way to the curb to hail a cab, "as he was getting in however he could hear Jarod yelling from behind him "When it happens Eddie just let it, it feels so fucking good," he glanced back and saw Jarod still clutching his hard leather clad cock.<br />
<br />
<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><strong><u>CHAPTER 3</u></strong></div><div class="sitename"></div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>Edward got home from the gym and wanted to just get right into the shower and wash the badness of the day right off of him. However that was not to be because he had a pile of mail that he had to sort through. While he was in California the doorman had let the entire weeks work of mail pile up; there were about a hundred letters and one mysterious package...<br />
He sorted through the mail and then looked questioningly at the package, instead of looking at the return address he opened it right away. Which in retrospect was a big mistake.<br />
On the top of the box was a bunch of bath supplies. Shaving stuff, bath oil, shampoo and other grooming products greeted him. He tossed them aside and planned to take it immediately to the dumpster.<br />
Edward's plans for a relaxing shower were interrupted when he realized that because he was away for two weeks that his apartment was completely out of stock of everything including shampoo. He looked into the empty shower and began cursing. If he had only thought ahead and stolen some of those little bottles from the hotel he had stayed in. But that would have been pathetic. And he really wanted that shower...<br />
Then he remembered the bath stuff sitting on top of the care package that fag from the gym sent over. He cringed at the thought of putting whatever fruity botanical bullshit they enclosed in his hair, but he did feel dirty and it wasn't like anyone would ever know...he could just run to the store tomorrow. Quickly wrapping a towel around his lean naked form he ducked out of the bathroom and grabbed the bag of bath supplies at the top of the box.<br />
The steam from the running shower left a fog around the bathroom just big enough for him to see his handsome boy next door face and trim every man body. The one good thing about the trip to California is that he had gotten a chance to catch up on a lot of the casual sex he had been missing since he had started working all these long hours at work. Sure the chicks in California were used to those vain movie star wannabe guys, with their muscles and vacant stares but they could still fall for his charms and not-too-long out of college body.<br />
He stepped tentatively into the shower taking the assorted bath stuff out of its container and laying it on the shower shelf. He let the shower water rinse over him washing away the weirdness of his day. It was like it had all been a bad dream, Mark wasn't a pansy bodybuilder, Tony wasn't a ghetto boyslut, and Jake hadn't become a bad ass biker with a yen to have him suck his dick.<br />
The hot water washed the day away.<br />
He reached out and instinctively grabbed the long shampoo bottle. H emptied a splash of green goo on to his hands and lathered it into his hair. The minute it touched his scalp he felt a strange tingle. It wasn't abrasive...just a tickling sensation like the shampoo was seeping into his skin. The sensation ran through his body making him feel tingly all over until it solidified and centered in his groin, sending his dick throbbing to attention. Edward shivered from the feeling...and thought that the alien itch wasn't entirely unpleasant. He continued massaging the product into his dark hair maintaining his self-control and avoiding touching himself.<br />
After reluctantly rinsing the silky foam from his hair, he grabbed curiously for the soap that was also enclosed. The violet bar of aroma giving soap slid across his skin like a caressing hand. He scrubbed across his tight chest and down the small ridges of his Abs. The same tingling that affected his head now traveled across his body in the localized from of the soap. The slow motions he took with too gentle hands was very sensual causing even more stimulation in his already aching cock. The purple of the soap tantalizingly along the inside of his thighs and across the slopes of his ass until he couldn't take it any longer and began washing off his rigid pole and heavy balls. Clouds of suds covered his dark bush of pubic hair. The urge in his dick became unbearable and he dropped the soap hastily in his rush to jerkoff.<br />
His big hands grabbed his impossibly pulsing member sending both hands sliding across its length. The slippery soap caused his hands to slide up and down furiously without any grip. Edward's legs twitched and hips bucked with abandon at the erotic tingling. He was so aroused it was actually painful. He lunged back and forth in the shower like a caged animal pulling deliriously on his rock hard dick. Shoulders rolled, calves flexed, and toes curled as Edward came with the force of a fire hose and let a moan of complete sexual release.<br />
Spent and pleased Edward slumped back against the shower door letting the hot water wash away the purple lather obliviously. After basking in pleasure for about twenty more minutes Edward stepped out of the shower in satisfaction.<br />
The entire room was filled with a thick fog of steam, making it almost impossible to see anything. Edward flicked on the overhead fan so as to clear away the heavy humid air and then grabbed the towel and began to dry off. He ran it across his smooth legs and chest and then dried his hair quickly. The steam had cleared enough so that when he turned toward the mirror. He could see his reflection clearly.<br />
The towel dropped.<br />
"That fucking bitch!" Edward snarled as he saw the results of his "Complimentary" gift.<br />
"Real fucking funny you stupid Guido." He growled at the unpresent Gym owner. This most have been some kind of practical joke. Edward stared angrily at his denuded form. The dark hair on his legs was gone leaving only the shapely muscle tone and deep rich brown tan skin. His chest, which only had light fuzz now, stuck out without even a hint of fur. The trail that once lead from his Abs to his dark bush was nonexistent as was the once proud forest of pubic hair it had lead to. His thick spent dick and heavy sac lay against the smooth surface of his inner thigh looking bigger then life.<br />
Hair remover.<br />
The queers must have put hair removal formula in the soap.<br />
Bastards.<br />
A thought occurred to him and he flicked on a second series of lights so he could see better. And his fears were proved to be well founded. His dark brown almost black hair had been changed by the shampoo as well. Golden honey highlights streaked through light auburn hair.<br />
And the shampoo had hair dye. Shit. <br />
How was he supposed to go to the office like this? The ridiculous hairless arms and legs he could hide but this color treated hair was too obvious. He had gone from a dark natural color to an obvious bottle job that left him three shades away from blonde. And to make matters worse with all his body hair gone it made his modest California tan look somehow ten shades darker. Instead of a healthy brown he looked the deep meticulously bronze of an expert sunbather. For some reason he seemed more tan then before he left California.<br />
Dammit.<br />
He cursed the entire way out of the bathroom but for some reason he forgot to wrap the towel around his naked body. Preferring instead to wander around his empty apartment completely nude.<br />
What a horrible day.<br />
All he wanted to do now was get ready for bed and go to sleep. With his balls swinging in front of him he padded toward the bedroom. He scoured through his drawers trying to find a pair of boxers to wear to bed but all his clothes were either dirty or packed away from the trip. He recoiled at the thought of sleeping in the buff, not from any humility but from the thought of being uncomfortable. He resigned himself to staying up another couple of hours and unpacking his clothes just do he could find a clean pair of underwear.<br />
His nude form reentered the living room and he headed to the front hall where he had left his luggage but as he passed by the unwelcome care package he noticed that it contained more then just the Bath stuff.<br />
What other little pranks did the queers send over?<br />
Out of curiosity...just curiosity Edward opened the flaps of the box to gaze into it. A couple of magazines and CD's. And a couple other box's were enclosed, but what caught his eye was a long tube that sat near the top of the box.<br />
This was one stupid ass joke.<br />
The gym hand set him a tube of underwear.<br />
Not just any underwear a pack of faggy bikini briefs. From the label the designs were all in bright ultra violet colors with prints from anything from a fuchsia leopard to a turquoise zebra. The Tube contained five pairs and the guy on the label looked uncomfortably exposed in the tight hugging briefs.<br />
He cursed again. If these guys thought he'd be too embarrassed to sue they were seriously wrong.<br />
As he squeezed the tube angrily the top popped off from the pressure sending a pair of hot pink Zebra print briefs plunging to the floor. Edward irritably bent over to pick them up, disgusted at how small they were but when he grabbed a hold of the silky fabric of the textured brief's he felt the same strange tingling in his cock, which he had experienced in the shower. As he felt the cloth his dick leapt to attention again. He squeezed his smooth thighs together in surprise and pleasure suppressing the surge of erotic tension in his shaft.. He dropped them back to the floor and recoiled from them.<br />
That was weird.<br />
Unnerved Edward backed away from the skimpy briefs and turned back toward the hall for his suitcases. His heavy erect penis wobbled back and forth in front of him the entire way as he tried to evade the thoughts of the sexual bolt of electricity that the clothe had sent to his groin. It was so intense so erotic...and so weird.<br />
He clumsily sorted through the mess of his stored clothes. His numerous bags of luggage lay gutted around him in disarray as he desperately searched for a clean pair of shorts to wear. His desperation stemmed from the fact that he kept glancing back at the pink zebra bikini briefs lying on his living room floor. If they had felt like that with just a touch...imagine what they would feel like held tight against his dick, the fabric stretching to cup his ass... he shook his head and continued to search through the clothes.<br />
It took him ten minutes crouching naked in his front hall like some kind of primitive before he realized that he was either going to have to do some laundry in the buff or sleep naked.<br />
He resolved to sleep buck ass naked.<br />
Edward had every intention of walking right past the tasteless pair of revealing underwear, except for the fact that his sub conscious mind was already justifying slipping them on, just for bed of course. No one was going to see him prancing around in them. And it would be uncomfortable to just be hanging out all over while he slept. But the real reason he was justifying putting on the ridiculous things was because of the sexual jolt he had felt before. His whole body was hungry for another taste.<br />
When he finally got to where they had dropped on the floor the decision was already made. Even though he looked down at them like a coiled snake his fingers itched to grab them. Edward delicately bent down and flinching ever so slightly took a hold of the briefs.<br />
An echo of the previous burst resonated in his cock making it leap against the dry air of the apartment. A dopey pleasured crossed his lips and he absently ran tentative fingers along the shaft in anticipation.<br />
He pulled the band of the comical underwear apart and began slowly to slide one hairless leg into the small leg opening when the fabric brushed against his unprotected tan skin the same sensations of erotic excitement rushed to his cock and brain. Which made him take the dressing process at a painstakingly slow pace. With passionate ease he slid the cuff of the brief up his second calf relishing the strange tingle the garment was some how sending to the pleasure sensors in his brain.<br />
He stood there naked hairless balls hanging tight against his thighs cock straining toward the sky and a pair of silly bikini briefs wrapped around his knees, for as long as his self-control would allow him. Just savoring the anticipation of the moment. With both hands and his tongue licking his upper lip he bent down and hiked them up across his thighs. The cuffs glided snugly across the skin bare thigh muscles like a thousand soft kisses. The bottom of the briefs caught on his crotch and he released his hands in a moan as the band snapped against his waist.<br />
Intense waves of ecstasy rolled over him. Up his back down his spine to his shaking legs. The feel of the tight fabric gripping along the frame of his dick and balls and clutching his ass firmly sent him into rapture for some strange reason. He moaned and uncontrollably held his pink encased bulge in the folds of his tense hands. His rock hard cock began to spurt uncontrollably beneath the brand new fabric. Lurching against the confining briefs like an uncoiled fire hose. Edward just fell into the nearest chair and enjoyed the wild erotic ride with a stupefied smile on his face.<br />
After the supernatural rush he got from putting on the queerbait underwear wore off Edward discovered that he wasn't as tired as he had been before in fact he felt revitalized from the erupting release of his angry cock, instead of the spent lethargy that usually followed when he came. He got up from the chair revived and full of energy. As he walked in the foreign garment he got little shots of unaccustomed pleasure from the different way they felt. The way they rubbed his balls when he strode across the floor or the way they gripped onto the folds of his ass cheeks making his butt seem tighter and bigger. Strange that that would be a good feeling... He walked around the apartment and the thought of changing the cum stained drawers never even crossed his mind.<br />
Out of curiosity he picked up the discarded tube with the other briefs tucked inside. He hadn't noticed it before but the man on the label was a well built specimen with cheese grater Abs and rock hard muscles that were accentuated by the little briefs, so instead of looking stupid the guy actually looked sexy, the kind of confident sexuality that made woman crazy.<br />
Edward looked to the stud in the picture to his own reflection in the living room mirror. Where the clothes had made the Adonis on the label seem like a lusty sexual predator, on him they gave quite a different impression.<br />
The man in the mirror was reasonably in shape yuppie; still barely hanging on to the body he had had in college. The man was good looking for sure but the erotic clothing on him made him seem like he was desperately trying to attain a look he was to old and not in enough shape to maintain. Edward looked like some sleazy lothario or a clueless gigolo. He was actually upset that he didn't look good in the silly bikinis.<br />
Edward had never thought of his body derogatorily he was handsome and his rounded undefined muscles and average man masculinity had always seemed to attract every woman he wanted. But now that he looked at the cut and hard body on the label and compared it to his own he wished that he had more muscular definition. Bigger cuts, harder muscles...<br />
He lost interest in the depressing assessment of his once proud body and tried to find something to do. He wasn't tired anymore...but he did have a veracious hunger. A raid on his fridge proved fruitless literally After being two weeks gone all his food was either gone or covered in two inches of what seemed to be moss.<br />
As he walked back from the kitchen he noticed that the different cut of the briefs was making him walk slightly modified. Instead of his purposeful stride. His hips were rolling a little more making his saunter a little more suggestive<br />
Edward's stomach growled furiously and he absently slid his fingers across the broad expanse of the bulge in his briefs. He unintentionally continued to grope himself through the pink fabric frequently cupping his sac or just holding his package. His mind centered fixedly on finding something anything to eat. After quietly considering putting on some actual clothes and running to the Korean market down the street his eyes once again returned to the strange box filled with greeting gifts from the new owners of the gym.<br />
Again it proved to be a helpful cornucopia. Inside the lid there was a box of what looked to be "Power bars" nutritional supplement bars in varying flavors and colors. Two strongly conflicting emotions struck him like fists. One was the thrill of using another product from the gym and receiving the same erotic jolt he had gotten from the others, the second was the intense fear of receiving that selfsame erotic jolt. Again the debate raged on but with less intensity, eventually his stomach and his cock one out.<br />
He was elbow deep in the box reaching around for a "Vanilla shocker bar" when the first bite crossed his lips and slid on to his dry tongue the sensation ran down though his throat across his Abs to lay angrily on his dick. He swallowed hard and squeezed his knees tight. A yelp of pleasure escaped his lips and he through his head back from the exciting feeling of the strange sexual spell the gym products placed on his eager body.<br />
Before he realized it he had eaten about five of the power bars, choking down "Strawberry fuel", "Chocolate octane" and "orange blasts" he was happily munching and stroking his impressively hard member. It didn't even occur to him that never in his life had his cock been this expectant and unignorable.<br />
In his fog of sexual euphoria he meandered back to the box and carelessly picked up a stack of magazines. It was a thick pile consisting of about ten different magazines. Edward began to thumb through the first couple out of boredom. They were the typical Mags a gym would send, fitness ones. Every time his wetted fingers grazed across the pages to push forward to the next page the ghost sensation of that same erotic tension would strike in his groin.<br />
As Edward flipped through the magazine he found himself gazing at the muscular paragons of fitness that graced it's pages in ever increasing envy. The guys were so ripped, he thought. So cut, so hard, they were so in shape. He wished he could be that in shape, as in shape as the guy on the underwear label. Have Abs you could eat breakfast off of. Have pecs that split the seams of any shirt. Maybe calves so defined that the tendons wrapped his legs like rope. Yeah... that was it. He was moaning deeply as he flipped further. A back that looked straight out of a Greek painting. Every inch toned tanned perfection. An object to be looked one and admired. Biceps that flexed when relaxed. Glutes as tight as bowstrings and every plane of his naked, sweaty body a cut hard testament of sexual energy and masculine...<br />
"SHIT!" His back arched against the couch and he roared in a crescendo that shook his shoulders and made his thighs twitch. He came again in the tight briefs his dick snaking along the waistband. He panted and shook and looked down at the damp blotch on the pink stripes. He put a tentative hand through his light hair and wondered what the fuck was going on with him. It was hard to concentrate...like he was stoned or something. Something was wrong...but he couldn't put his finger on it. The magazine dropped at his side and he stumbled to the bathroom to put some cold water on his face.<br />
The reflection in the floor length bathroom mirror was the hardest splash of water he could have asked for. Edward looked at himself and slumped against the bathroom door in disbelief. "What the fuck is going on?" He whispered in an almost frightened voice.<br />
What the fuck indeed. Ten minutes ago he had been lamenting about his athletic but bulky frame and in the ten minutes since then the reality of his body had reshaped itself. The men in the magazines held nothing on him. The guy on the underwear magazine would now admire him instead of the other way around. Hours of relentless gym work adorned his solid body. Sever muscle definition reflected back at him. Cut's so deep they looked almost impossible or at least painful. For some bizarre reason he had come at the thought of this body now he had it. Every movement was study in male anatomy. Every flinch sent a thousand movements against the muscles that glistened in the florescent light. Fat had dripped away muscle had been gained. He looked at a totally different body. He must be hallucinating. He had to be. It was a dream...it had to be.<br />
He looked like the GNC ultimate nutrition version of Michalangelo's David. He kept moving his arms gazing amazed at the veins that roped around his forearms or shaking the big thighs trying to get the flesh on his legs to move but it stayed as hard as granite. He was a model of fitness, not an ounce of fat, not one unexercised muscle. And it had all happened in the space of ten minutes... It was only ten minutes ago that he was looking at himself critically in the mirror. It was right after he had put on the bikini briefs that had made him horny, and after the soap that made him loose his body hair and the shampoo that lightened his...<br />
The stuff from the gym.<br />
The health bars and magazines...could they have...?<br />
No. That was impossible. There was no fucking way. This was a dream. A weird ass dream. He was asleep from his trip...or all the stress from the office was making him loose it. He had the momentary thought that he was loosing his mind. Was all the stress and aggravation from the office giving him a breakdown?<br />
Maybe the health bars were laced with something? Was that fag Gino crazy enough to pull off something like that?<br />
No he wasn't crazy...In a burst of fear that he was going insane he ran to the package from the gym to check the remaining contents, for some note or sign of tampering. Normal things like more magazines, CD's, a video, and a long box at the bottom greeted him. As he rummaged through the box his hand brushed against fabric and he quickly reached in and grabbed out a small striped white and black garment.<br />
Edward's hands caressed tight lycra and his whole body untensed. The fear seeped out of him as the now familiar erotic rush sped up from his fingertips to its destination between his rock hard thighs. "Ooooouuuuhhhh." He cooed. <br />
Without even a moments hesitation he unspread the tight lycra to see what it was. He had first thought it was a shirt but now realized it was a singlet, like the kind a wrestler in high school would wear. It was gym wear. Workout gear for fags. It looked ten sizes too small. But poor Edward was so enthralled by the return of the sexual fog that he coyly stroked the fabric teasing himself unconsciously. And then with a satisfied smile he grabbed the material and put one harsh hairless leg through the tight leg whole and then the other, as he pulled the straps up around the severe arcs of his shoulders and the neckline settled clingingly under the deep ridge of his pecs boxing off his chest like a showcase, the intense throbbing in his cock had returned full force. His dick was so alive that it was hard for Edward to walk. But he did, With pride. The workout outfit gave him a sense of pleasure and confidence in his body. And he strutted his shit like a prize bull as he walked around the mirror admiring every crevice that the tight revealing fabric accentuated. He lovingly rubbed the curve of his perky ass. Gripping each firm buttock through the glove of the lycra fabric.<br />
He sauntered invitingly back to the box and plucked pout the video in what seemed like habit. He popped it into the VCR. The video yet again sending the addictive erection inducing rushes straight home. The outline of his hard ready cock was plain in the front of the jumper.<br />
The video started and Edward instinctively began following along with the exercise tape that began playing. It was his...a Tae Bo workout. The lead man was a black guy whose body seemed to be as diesel and cut as his own now was. Edward kicked his legs, threw punches and danced along with the video without thought. It was what he was supposed to do wasn't it? Yeah...this was his workout....<br />
"1...2...and...3 kick!" he yelled along. ""Up...and up....and down..."<br />
He was very intent on exacting every move perfectly. He had trouble following along however because every so often he looked down to watch his glorious body perform each exercise in vanity. He was halfway through the video when he decided it would be a great idea to put on some music. Some good motivational music. The thought to grab his own CD's never crossed his mind.<br />
He went straight for the box from the gym. He reached in and grabbed three CD's, quickly unwrapped them and put them in his CD Changer.<br />
Edward went back to the routine on the video and waited for the music to gear up.<br />
The first song came on and he groaned. Damn, it was one of those damn pansy ass boy bands. One of their upbeat fruity pop songs began to blare across the space of his apartment, "Bye, Bye Bye, ..." the band sang and without warning he found himself caught up in the beat. He began moving to the video with more force and more fluid movement as if he was almost dancing. All right! This was much better then the heavy metal 80's rock he used to listen to. How could he not like this? It was so upbeat and relaxing. He listened through all three CD's ending his workout on a high note. Brittany Spears sang the last verses of "Hit me baby one more time," as the credits began to roll on the exercise video. "She is so cool" Edward found himself saying out loud.<br />
HE slipped out of the sweat soaked unitard and returned to wandering around his apartment in only the striped bikinis. The workout had only served to further stimulate his too hard penis. Thoughts of going and quickly jerking himself off crossed his mind, but he quickly put them aside. He had cum three times already that night...he could just wait until his hard on wore off and go to sleep.<br />
In boredom Edward picked up the rest of the discarded magazines and began thumbing through them. He was happy to find that they had sent him some fascinating magazines that had huge articles on all the boy bands he loved so much. It was so cool. He paged through magazine after magazine with nothing but hotties. He was engrossed in reading a great cover story from TEEN about the totally ripped Guy's from 98 degrees. Those guys were so yummy. They looked like football players but sang so good. They were in better shape then the other boy bands but the Backstreet boy's could sing better and Nsynch could dance better and Nsynch did have the cutest guys overall...<br />
Eddie let out an abrupt gasp as he caught his reflection in his bedroom mirror. There he was built more solid then a marine, his muscles pumped beyond a gymnast, wearing nothing but a queer little bikini, lying flat on his stomach with his legs kicked up and waving behind him like some dopey teenage girl while he read some teen pop magazine.<br />
"Oh my Gawd!" He yelped, "like what the hell is wrong with me? This is totally freaking me out now!" Eddie was panicked. HE was acting so weird and it was so hard for him to concentrate on anything except wanting to get back to reading about Drew from 98 degree's pet peeves. "Those guys from the gym are like completely screwing with my life."<br />
"What's happening to me?" the blonde Adonis in the reflection yelped.<br />
His thoughts were running a mile a minute but they weren't the complex thoughts Edward usually had they were simple and basic, frantic in their incomprehension. This must be what happened to the other guys... I'm changing the way they did get all faggy and dumb...shit what's wrong with me.<br />
He stumbled off the bed his dick still hard from looking at the pictures of the teen heartthrobs. What could he do? There was no where to run. No one to call. The box! If he just got rid of the box everything would be better. That damn box had started this freaky Ass mess if he just got rid of it and threw it away everything would go back to normal. As Edward raced into his living room he skidded on a fallen TEEN magazine and slid across the floor. He quickly got back on his feet and was totally unaware of how his heightened reflexives were now such a part of his body that he practically flipped himself backwards like a gymnast in his haste to get back up.<br />
Edward stood staring down at the simple brown paper package in terror. He gathered his thoughts for a second. He had to maintain complete control or the sex jolts would distract him. All he had to do was keep a little self-control and ignore the urge in his cock. It wasn't that hard. He wasn't that addicted to sex. Just maintain control. But even as he thought that his eyes wandered to an open magazine with a picture of Freddie Prinz Jr. On it. Wow, he's lickable Edward thought and rubbed his hungry crotch to thoughts of the dark haired man's naked body. Running his hand over that sweet smile...licking that...<br />
Focus...have to focus.<br />
With a burst of energy he grabbed the box purposefully and headed to the door at full speed. Got to get rid of this shit gotta...get rid of this shit... He had to keep his thoughts simple so that he wouldn't get distracted by...that cute boys dimples....GOTTA GET THIS SHIT OUTTA HERE!<br />
In front of the door just before he was about to dispose of the cursed gifts he fucked up major. Unconsciously giving into the part of him that anxiously waited for the next taste of the sexual buzz. The Edward of 2 hours ago would have mocked anyone so manipulated by his dick but after only a few blasts of pure unadulterated lust he was as much a slave to it as an addict was to his drug. For the first time in a long time Edward got really hard and admit it or not he really liked it and wanted more. His impulses and his dick were now in control no matter what the executive thought.<br />
Curiosity lead him to glance furtively, completely out of intellectual curiosity as to what else those sick gay bastards at the gym had sent to entrap him. Just more magazines and a box... a long box...wonder what's in it? No, have to get rid of this shit. Just more magazines, nothing important.<br />
He got a little sad at the thought of missing out on an article about the Backstreet boys or Jordan knight or any of the other hotties that were in the magazines he had already read. Just to see what he was missing he picked up one to see the cover. He had expected to be greeted by the smiling handsome face of Kevin Richardson or Scott wolf. Instead he was face to face with a well built guy with is hand gripping his balls under the title "Blue Boy".<br />
Fuck gay porn? Fag ass Sickos! Was his very vehement reaction even though only minutes before he had been pinning away in puppy love over any number of good-looking male celebrity. Looking at queers getting it on or some other guy's naked ass...gorgeous round naked ass cheeks.... That was just disgusting...he didn't want to see some fag sucking on some other man's tool like a bitch in heat.... Taking the entire length of the hard sweaty rod down into the soft patch of his gullet deep throating the cock lovingly...No Gotta get rid of this shit. But the smile on the man grabbing himself was so inviting. So seductive, enticing him to look further. The sexual humming in his dick had returned louder and more gratifying then ever before.<br />
As he held the magazine tentatively his hips rocked back and forth forcing his ass out and his tightly covered bulge forward, grinding himself against the open air obliviously. The rush just felt so good.<br />
This trash was repulsive Edward thought. So repulsive he began thumbing through the pages with revulsion etched on his face and his thighs jutting rapidly into the air in front of him. So disgusting, just look at these revolting Homo's laying on top of each other like girls...kissing each other's salty skin tasting the hard muscle over every inch of their eager heavy bodies, caressing each other passionately. Then he flipped to a page with two muscled studs fucking; the bigger one plowing his partner like a dog. These freaks were fucking animals...fucking hot animals having savage hot sex...he imagined what it would be like to have himself bent over and rammed full of a hot dick until he was so filled he couldn't even scream just moan and shift in pleasure. Oh do it to me doggy style, use me baby use me.<br />
"What's happening to meeeeeeee...ahhhh." Edward moaned in sultry sex saturated voice as he continued wildly bucking his hips and staring intently at the hard bodies and hard dicks of the men in the gay porn in his hand. He turned another page and a dark haired muscleman was intently licking the ass of a white bread college boy. He lost all control. He dropped the magazine as the sexual haze that had descended on him deepened. He never felt so good in his entire life. "Shit...ohhh....what's going on..." He began fiercely manhandling his aching crotch pushing his hard dick and heavy balls with a savage massage. Running his hands all over his body. Feeling every taunt muscle, every pulsing vein. He was licking his lips absorbed completely in the resurgence of the sex drug the stuff from the gym was pumping into his cock. His big rigid cock.<br />
Edward was completely enthralled by the sexual spell and was now only to glad to give himself over to the hot sweaty sexual lust that coursed through his veins. Thoughts of men and their firm bodies, strong shoulders, broad jaws, thick shafts and tight meats asses filled his mind to overflowing. Thoughts of big pecs six pack Abs with bunny trails and the musky sent of man sex overran his old thoughts and he gladly succumbed to them. They just made his cock feel good and that was all that mattered.<br />
Information about aerobics, strength resistance, nutrition, weight training and all other forms of fitness flooded into his mind as knowledge about investment portfolios, stock options and market values rushed out. Edwards mind seemed to slow down become a little simpler, all the while and he was happily groaning and grabbing at his balls.<br />
He had given in, freely and eagerly to the carnal euphoria that the gifts form the 64th gym had brought him. And now he was hungry for more. While rubbing the rock hard surface of his inner thighs with the palms of his sweaty hands he bent over box searching for another object that would give him an infusion to his dick. There was only one thing left the long box. Edward fumbled with clumsily with the package in his need. He ripped the binding open spilling its contents onto his hard wood floors. The object that fell to the floor once would have made Edward recoil in disgust but now he just looked down at it thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time he had seen one of these. He had seen them in pornos and in seedy gift shops. This one was a little bigger then average and obsidian black color. He liked them big, he thought archly. <br />
As he bent over and erotically felt the tense muscles of his glutes stretch and contract Edward mused at how much he was changing. What a stupid little straight boy he had been. He had been so naïve, so close-minded. He grabbed the fallen package and watched excitedly as the broadened planes of his forearm contract with just the twitch of a finger. A stupid repressed straight boy who didn't know what his cock should feel like or how fucking hot he could look. Oh yeah he was fucking hot.<br />
But as he looked down at the 8-inch shaft in his vein painted fist he had a moment of doubt. This wasn't him this was ridiculous disgusting...<br />
Who was he foolin' real, fake whatever Eddie was a slave to cock. He loved dick and so what if it wasn't attached to some hard body cutie. He was too tired to go out and get some dick and he didn't feel like ordering up. So the artificial dick that he was now lewdly running over the voluptuous curve of his bubble but and caressing the crack of his ass with tip. At least it was a good replica with balls and all. Eddie was glad about that he loved the feeling of some big humpy guy's sac pounding against his backside and he'd hate to miss out on the sensation.<br />
He sauntered over to his bedroom like the little vixen he was, swaying his hips, shaking his ass and rolling his shoulders. Still almost absently running the head of the phallus across the ridge of his dense Abs.<br />
He applied some lotion to the head and shaft of the black rod and gave himself a pleased glance in the floor length mirror at the foot of the bed. He flashed his prince charming come hither smile and looked himself up and down. The blonde hunk in the mirror returned his gaze and sported a two level tent in the cup of his hot pink zebra bikinis. Eddie kind of giggled at how much of a vain little slut he was.<br />
Sure he was spending a night fucking himself but he didn't know anyone who was a better looker or a better fuck. He laid down onto the bed gently, never once loosing eye contact with his enticing image in the mirror. He arched his back and then in a slow erotic motion he brought both his legs up into mid air exposing the small length of fabric that ran from his balls to his ass and covered his hot waiting hole. If there would have been another guy in the room he would have been ten seconds away from getting plowed harder then the spring planting but as it was he alone and had time to appreciate the sight of his fuck ready body in all it's glory. He lovingly gazed at his stretched and laid out temple of a body. Fuck yeah he was a narcissist but he had very damn reason to be.<br />
His fingers began to tentatively run along the sensitive stretch of skin, giving him ticklish vibrations along his spine. Fingertips caressed the tight fabric of his constricting briefs, tugging at the elastic. He watched himself in the mirror voyeuristically cataloging every movement like a devoted lover.<br />
The fingers of his free hand came slowly to his pursed lips and he slipped them into the warm confines of his waiting mouth suggestively as if to seduce the man in the mirror. He gave himself a wicked lecherous grin and yanked the briefs aside and slyly slid his forefinger into his clean-shaven asshole. The grin split wider and he began to trust in and out easily adding his middle finger and ring finger distending the flesh of his puckered hole to fit the girth of his knuckles.<br />
After a good five minutes of lazy finger fucking Eddie got bored, as he usually did and was tired of the foreplay. He quickly grabbed the lubed length of the dildo and giddily ran his hands over it.<br />
In preparation he leaned back farther shoving his ass out farther and sending his legs farther over his head and then with both limber hands he positioned the replacement cock at the opening of his ass. Eddie took the time to insert it's girth gently but after he had slid it to it's hilt and got comfortable with having his body invaded by it's size he let loose and started fucking himself in earnest.<br />
As he pushed his muscled body back and forth against the span of the hard plastic pole, ghost thoughts crossed his mind. He knew somewhere that he used be a straight man who loved woman and pussy and tits and that this was not the way he used to behave at all. He knew it and somewhere acknowledged that this scene would have incensed him. But Eddie didn't care he was a fag and he was proud to be a dickhound. He didn't want to be bothered with all the hectic bullshit that he used to. All the stress and games; now all he had to do worry about was getting enough protein in his diet and finding just the right pair of jeans to accentuate his ass.<br />
As he fucked himself raunchily, he fucked away the last vestiges of resistance. He used to think woman who used these were disgusting now here he was shoving on up his ass... no his boy pussy. That's what his asshole was. And it was his chest, his pecs they were his tits...he didn't have an ass he had a luscious bubble butt. He fucked himself and gripped his own swollen cock like the boyslut he was. The hot horny gorgeous tramp he was. He moaned in a sigh that was half groan half scream spraying hot cum all over the washboard of his stomach.<br />
He slid the dildo out of his ass with a pop and rubbed the pearls of cum into his skin like lotion as he drifted off to a contented sleep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><strong><u>CHAPTER 4</u></strong></div><div class="sitename"></div><div class="sitename"></div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>The next morning Eddie woke up and slid into a pair of vibrant orange bikinis with a vertical stripe pattern on them.<br />
It was weird yesterday Eddie was totally worried about his stock portfolio and keeping his clients happy and today all he could think of was when he was going to be able to get to the gym.<br />
He had been so focused on his workout that he had put on the unitard that came in the mail, on under his suit. The confining striped hot pink and black lycra molding to his body was making him hard and giving his every movement a exaggeratedly sensual feeling. The tight spandex against his naked skin even made him feel sexier.<br />
On his way to the subway he felt himself rolling his hips and shaking his ass languidly. Brining attention to his hot bubble butt. He smirked at the boys giving his plump little ass the once over letting one or two of the really choice picks even have a flirty little wink.<br />
After strutting his high prized body across half of the east side, he sauntered onto the subway and took a seat delicately eyeing up the other passengers. He sighed in a huff, No other Hotties Eddie thought. Too bad. All the other guys in on the train riding into the financial district were nose deep into their Posts or Wall street journals not Eddie, not today. He flipped through the latest issue of YM looking for the cover article on The Backstreet boys.<br />
When he got to his office there was so much stupid boring stuff to do. First he had all kinds of paper work and then he had a meeting about that deal thingy that went bad or something, like it was old fruit or something?<br />
When he got to the stuffy conference room he had already taken off his stupid tie cause it was choking him and was trying to figure out a way to leave early and go to the gym.<br />
"Edward is that you?" Exclaimed one of the other Brokers, JakeTimmons. "Jesus Christ! Man that sun did you wonders. You look ten years younger. It's amazing."<br />
"Really" Eddie asked uninterestedly as he fussed with his blonde bangs.<br />
"Jesus man, It's unbelievable."<br />
Eddie smiled "Thanks I know I am."<br />
Everyone else in the meeting couldn't get over the change in Eddie they all agreed it was nothing short of a miracle even his hard nose boss, Mr. Carlson, seemed to take notice. "Did you have plastic surgery while you were out there?" he asked<br />
"Oh my Gawd no!" Eddie laughed.<br />
Not only was his drastic change in appearance garnering comments so was the strange new attitude. Halfway through a report on the rising stock of an internet company called "Creek.com" he launched into a five minute speech on how great the show Dawson's Creek was, "THAT Show Rocks so hard!" he exclaimed I totally want Dawson and Joey to get back together and that Gay kid on the show is so cute, and even though on the show he's like only like 18 in real life he was in like his 20's so it' not illegal to think he's cute or anything."<br />
Everyone stared at him for a good ten minutes<br />
After that he was really quiet.<br />
Then he found he was having trouble concentrating in his meeting. He kept looking over at Mr. Carlson and thinking about what broad shoulders he had and how great he would look if he worked out. He'd catch him stealing glances at Jack Timmons' crotch trying to decide if he wore boxer's or briefs and he always found himself looking back to the mirror opposite him to make sure his hair was okay or just to reassure himself how good he looked.<br />
"Uhm...I don't wanna work here anymore." Eddie said out loud and everyone in the meeting looked at him abruptly. After the shock of his appearance and what seemed like years shaved off his age nothing was going to surprise them. He picked up the briefcase in front of him and collected his jacket. "This place is so dull and you guys just aren't any fun." He huffed. "This place sucks...and not in the good way." He laughed immaturely at his joke.<br />
"Edward what is going on with you...Son are you on drugs?" his boss asked him.<br />
Eddie looked at him sassily, "Why are you offering?" The man began to sputter, "And don't call me son, you aren't my daddy and believe me I'm not into that scene baby." He made his way toward the large doors of the conference room. On his way he strutted passed Jack Timmons and grabbed the flesh of his ass catching the entire cheek, giving the other man a playful squeeze. "But I am into your scene, call me..." and then he was out the door and out of that office forever.<br />
There was only one place for him to go and on the subway up to 64th St. he removed his suit jacket and button down white shirt, leaving only the lycra tank top like top of the unitard and his baggy suit pants on. Sure he didn't match but at least he was giving everyone a good look at his upper body.<br />
He swaggered into the refurbished gym like he owned the place and more then one well built gym rat gave him the once over, but he was playing it cool so he didn't return their appraising glances. He headed right for the juice bar to talk to Tony.<br />
He was glad to see that when he got there not only was Tony tending bar but Jack and Mark were having protein shakes. "Hey boy, Damn baby you lookin phat. Greased up and bein all fine like that." Tony exclaimed with his heavy thug lingo. Tony used to hate little urban street boys, how could he? He made such a hot little ghetto boy. With his tight tanks and jogging pats with accessorized gold jewelry he either belonged in Vibe or Inches. He was the envy of every horny man in the 64th street gym... and to think the other guys had thought he was going to have to change membership so he could keep variety in his sex life.<br />
"So glad you could join us, man." Mark said as he coyly sipped on his protein shake holding it upright with a ridiculously bulging arm. Mark was so fucking big simple movement like raising those mountainous arms over his head must be awkward. That body was so big it must be hard to manage packed with all that muscle. Mark would be one hot lay...to bad he was totally devoted to Kenny. They were inseparable. Kenny sat across from him with one hand on Marks huge thigh rubbing it affectionately. He was fanatically in love with everything about Kenny. It was Kenny this or Kenny that. Good for him, but it was going to be awhile before some man came and curtailed Eddie's alley cat ways.<br />
Jarod didn't even notice him. He was too busy leering at another man at the bar who was comfortably in the arc of his out stretched arm. Jarod leered down at the other man who looked insecure and timid in the gaze of the dominating presence of the hirsute man dressed only in a revealing box cut tank top, sweats and a weight belt. The little gym bunny looked like a mouse in the clutches of a hawk. Since he had been at the gym and working out Jarod had a lot more confidence and was now emerging as the most dominant of the group, a position that had always belonged to Eddie, but Eddie was happy to give it up. He was versatile he could top or bottom he thought with a mental smile.<br />
"You look good man all healthy and cut. With that tan and your Bod in such great shape you look ten years younger." Mark said in the same uncharacteristic pleasant attitude.<br />
"Yeah like Zach from saved by the bell on steroids." Kenny shot out with an arched eyebrow.<br />
"Looks like somebody got his gift basket..." Tony said in a little sing songy voice.<br />
Tony reached across the counter and ran two honey colored fingers up the ridge of Eddie's newly cut bicep flirtatiously. "If you're really good boo you might get another ...gift...basket, soon."<br />
And the to Tony's surprise and even to Eddie's, Eddie leaned forward and whispered into the Latin homeboy's ear "And you're only getting a gift basket if you're real bad." And then he nipped at his ear and ran the tip of his tongue across his goateed Jawbone.<br />
"All right ya cock tease, Gino wanted to see you if you came in. He's in his office..." Kenny said as he pulled the two youthful hard bodies apart.<br />
Tony gave him a wink and Eddie allowed himself to be lead away. Kenny lead him toward the back of the gym with one hand firmly on the sever curve of his pants suit covered ass and another on the firm muscle of his shoulder. Eddie got hard at the tense way Kenny was handling his ass. "Kenny...what would Mark think?" he asked, with no tone in his voice indicating that Kenny should stop. "I don't know...maybe we should ask him. Get a little threesome going, a whore like you would probably be all for that huh?"<br />
Eddie considered it, for as long as he could possibly consider things now. He didn't like to spend too much time on thinking things out anymore. It was simpler just to let things be simple. "I wouldn't be opposed." He smirked thinking of being underneath mark's gigantic chest in the middle of a mark Kenny sandwich.<br />
Kenny gave him a long steady flat look, "Yeah," he said almost to himself; "Gino got you guys just the way you deserved."<br />
"What?" Eddie asked in genuine confusion. He didn't understand what Kenny was trying to say but that seemed to be a usual occurrence lately. A lot of stuff was confusing to him now.<br />
"Nothing loverboy, nothin'." The other man grinned.<br />
"Oh okay," Eddie said with a dumb smile, taking his words at face value.<br />
The door to Gino's office was open so he just pranced in. The office was better organized then the last time when he had stormed in...why ever had he been so angry? But now there wasn't only Gino in the airy room but another man. The unfamiliar guy was dressed in a pair of baggy blue jeans and a Chinese Dragon print shirt. His face was hidden by a length of long black bangs that hung over his eyes adding a shadow over his already dark eyes. The guy was cute in a kind of alterna-boy way. But he gave off a really unfriendly vibe.<br />
He and Gino who was wearing a loose fitting t shirt and a pair of tight shorts that left nothing to the imagination, seemed to be in the middle of an argument.<br />
"I don't care how much you like it, I absolutely put my foot down. I am not going to a bar called the "Meat Market."" The man said in tones laced with irritation.<br />
"Why not?" Gino asked dejectedly.<br />
"Because it's degrading."<br />
"To who?" The Italian asked his friend.<br />
"Meat...now pick some where else."<br />
Eddie let out a polite cough to announce to the bickering pair of his arrival. They both turned to glance at him in unison. Gino got up from behind his desk and stood to greet his visitor. The man in black just gave him an uninterested glance. "Can I help you with something buddy?" Gino asked not recognizing the man who only weeks before threatened to have his job.<br />
"You told the guys you wanted to see me the next time I came in." Eddie told him.<br />
"I what?" Gino furrowed his dark eyebrows in thought. And then the dim light of recognition dawned on him, "OH! Edward how are you doing? Come in sit down." he said gesturing toward the couch in front of his desk.<br />
"Call me Eddie," He said smiling a wide goofy grin.<br />
"I thought you might say that." Answered the manager as he sat back in his own desk and his companion moved to a position behind his shoulder.<br />
"You look very good Eddie I see your vacation and of course our custom made complimentary products have worked wonders for you."<br />
"Oh yeah I feel like a new man! I feel so good I'd swear I'd have the body of a 19 year old kid." Eddie agreed.<br />
"For all intents and purposes I'd assume that you do." The dark haired gentleman noted noncommentily as he shifted his gaze indifferently around the room.<br />
"What?"<br />
Gino looked up at his noire partner worriedly, "Gino here told me what you said to him that day, and I worded the hex I put on the items he sent you just the way."<br />
Eddie looked at him perplexed "I don't understand what you're saying,"<br />
The piercing blue behind the black bangs fixed on him, "No I suppose you wouldn't. That's another part of it, of course."<br />
Gino interrupted the strange exchange nervously, "Anyway Eddie, I just..."<br />
The man put his hand on Gino's big shoulder "Don't worry Gino, He doesn't really understand. You see "Eddie". You should be careful about what you wish for, even insincerely...you never know who might be listening."<br />
"Huh?"<br />
The black eyes flashed, "You told my friend Gino here I quote "I wish that my friends and I could live the carefree life of these idiot queer bitches," And in my Zeal to spread a little happiness in the world I Granted it."<br />
Eddie was shocked "Oh my Gawd did I say that?"<br />
A smile crossed the stone face, "Yeah ya did, but you were a different person back then, an over stressed, over worked, 30 year old, incapable of having a real relationship. But now you've got what you wanted a chance for more fun, less worry and no more pressure. You're exactly what you wished to be; a young gay man, about 19 or so with 0-body fat, who is so shallow and simple that he's on a par with a male bimbo and your only real goal is to keep your dick happy. It's a shame your little wish included your cohorts, the three of them got taken along for the ride." He looked at Gino who was looking decidedly guilty, "Don't you love a happy ending?"<br />
"But...But..." Eddie stammered as he rubbed the cleft under his right pec in thought, "how ...I mean why..."<br />
"How? Well, the how was fairly simple, I put some bad juju on a couple of objects and then sent them out to your apartments. Your workout buddies have been living with their current bodies and personalities since you've been gone. It's actually funny. Gino said you made such a big deal about how us gay men are so controlled by our dicks I decided to give you a little test," He flashed a wicked grin of pearly white, "You could have stopped my innocent spell at any time, all you had to do was control yourself. If you could have just ignored that sexual charge you'd be sitting in your office right now thinking about which lucky secretary you were going to marry and move to the burbs with. But it turns out you were just as cock crazy as we are." Then He moved almost protectively in front of Gino, "and the why is just as simple, Ain't nobody mess with my friends, nobody."<br />
"All right D, Enough with the doctor evil routine you're going to give Eddie a headache" The gym manager moved our from behind his desk trying to change the subject. "I wanted to see you because I wanted to offer you a job."<br />
Eddie smiled, this was much better then the weird guy yelling at him. "Really. I kind of need one, that place I used to work for was so dull. So I like quit."<br />
"Yeah your friends are all working here now too. It's been very convenient, when I started here I was understaffed and now I only have one more position to fulfill."<br />
Eddie got excited, "Oh! Sweet!"<br />
"We need a full time fitness instructor to teach aerobics and some light Tae Bo are you interested?"<br />
"Am I, That would be so hot. I know just the music to design the work out around. I mean I saw that Brittany Spears "hit me baby one more time video" and I think I can like do the entire routine now, Oh and did you hear the new LFO song they are such hotties but they can sing too and they have this..." <br />
"Wait a minute!" The guy in black said urgently drawing both their attention back to him, "do you hear that?"<br />
Gino looked worried, "what?"<br />
The guy cocked his head as if he was listening to something intently, "that sound...It sounds like ...it sounds like...Like my patience slowly draining away. Can we go now?"<br />
Gino sighed, "I have to discuss this with Eddie.<br />
"Fine," his friend muttered and grabbed a long black coat off of a nearby chair, "I'll be waiting for you back at the house don't be all day."<br />
After he left, Eddie turned to his new boss, who was shaking his head haggardly, "So is that like your boyfriend?"<br />
He looked startled, "Damien? My lover?" He considered and then looked off distantly, "well no..." he trailed of in what sounded almost like disappointment.<br />
"OH," Eddie said his hopes and his dick rising. He made his move on the Italian hunk. He slipped out of the suit pants while Gino was lost in thought leaving him in only the unitard and his tanned skin. He walked right over to the manager of the 64th street Gym and put his hand on the bulge in the other mans spandex brazenly. Gino looked up with a sexual smile and began in turn to rub Eddie's excitedly bulging spandex covered cock. "So tell me, what are the employee benefits." Eddie giggled and was quickly silenced by the big Italian lips engulfing his mouth and tasting every inch of his kiss. He melted into the older man's forceful embrace and elated as their glorious bodies rubbed against each other.<br />
Later as Gino's gorgeous body was hulking over him as he was bent over the desk doggy style bare ass naked, on all fours and moaning he thought about how great he felt. As Gino's thick Italian pole reamed him out with a sweaty urgency that no plastic dildo could mimic he thought about just how happy he was and then went back to jerking himself off as the other man plowed his enthusiastically presented ass raw.<br />
Things just kept getting better for Eddie, it turned out that the extra job Tony had told him about early was at a club downtown and Tony hooked him up with a job their too. So during the day he taught aerobics to sweaty lycra covered boys and then went to the club and danced. He had the best act. He dressed up in a boy's parochial School uniform and stripped to a Brittany Spears song, every time he took off the tie and showed his glistening marble cut chest the club went wild. Tony's bit was that he got dressed up in a prison uniform and stripped to a remix of a Big Poppa Rap. And Eddie was never pressed for company at night; He always had someone who was happy to keep his ass full of dick. And when he wasn't spending the night with some random guy he was being Jarod's personal love toy. He wasn't really into the whole Leather S&M thing the way Jarod was but he was glad to pretend so he could sit on Jarod's cock and feel his stubble against his smooth jaw. The two of them would most likely hook up permanently someday...along way off.<br />
Could his life get anymore perfect?<br />
<br />
<div class="front"><h3 class="title"> CHAPTER 5 : ABSMAN</h3><div class="frontmatter foreword">(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a supplement to ONIX'S "Let's Get Physical." Although this segment takes place linearly between Chapters One & Two -- a Chapter 1-A, as it were -- it should be read as Chapter Five, so as not to disrupt the flow of the author's original narrative.)</div></div><div class="body"><div>Mark got home from the gym -- and he was still angry about THAT -- only to discover that his girlfriend had moved out while he was gone. The apartment -- HIS apartment -- was more than half-empty, space where there had been furniture, nails protruding from bare walls, cavernous echoes in the tiled bath. Even while the red film developed across his vision, his anger growing, he was mildly impressed that she did it so quickly. She'd had to have had quite a crew of helpers. Strong men who'd lent her a hand. Probably more...<br />
"Fucking CUNT!" he screamed, punching the wall, easily breaking through it. In the heat of his anger, he didn't even feel the pain in his hand -- he'd taken a lot worse as a lineman in college -- but then his rage wanted fresh motivation, so he began looking for things to piss him off: stolen money, broken property -- "Just let that bitch have taken anything of MINE," he thought ominously, "And she'll see some fuckin' anger."<br />
She hadn't touched any of his weightlifting equipment -- lucky for her -- or his heavybag, which he beat on for a bit, the heavy thuds of his punches echoing off the wall where her gym mats and Step-stuff had been stored. She'd also left the big, ugly mirror -- as she had called it -- hating it from the moment he'd bought it. "It makes me look FAT," she'd always complained, even though that was precisely why he'd bought it, because it made HIM look even wider than he was. Made him look thick. Made her look fat. "Not the mirror," he said under his breath now, remembering.<br />
She'd left the desk, but taken the computer. The entertainment center was hers, but the components had been his, and his equipment had been stacked carefully in the empty space and dusty corner. Taken the lamps, but left the candles -- that only pissed him off a little. But she'd emptied out the bathroom, and that infuriated him.<br />
His one concession had always been his hair. The one thing he took pride in. The one --perhaps feminine -- pleasure in which he indulged. Raised in the images of Fabio, Lorenzo Lamas -- hell, even Tarzan -- Mark grew his hair to shoulder length. Thick and wavy, it could rightly be called a mane -- and the chicks loved it! Flirting with him always started with the girl playing with his hair, and ended with it smothering her face while he fucked her. Not that was he a kind, or tender lay; sex was about dominance with him, proving to her that HE was in control. And his hair was his bait. He kept it in a ponytail at work -- in the corporate ad world, though his boss was too afraid of him to ever say it might be inappropriate -- and also when he played ball. Though again, his size kept any comments at bay.<br />
And now, that bitch he'd been dating -- even stupidly allowed to move in ("That's what I get for thinkin' with my dick," he thought.) -- had taken all of the hair care products. All the shampoos, the conditioners, the hot oil treatments. All that money down the drain; he couldn't admit to the guys how much money he spent on hair products, of all things! He could never let them see that weakness. If he hadn't been angry already, that alone would've started his rage. As it was, it just stoked the fire. Fucking cunt.<br />
But she'd left him a note. He found it when he inspected the desk. In place of the missing computer was a short note in her hand. "Mark," it read. "I've taken my things and gone. I'm sorry I have to do it like this..." (something was written here then scribbled out) "...please do not try to contact me. It's over. Please." Then she'd signed it. Then a PS -- "A PS of all things," he thought. "In a breakup letter. What a stupid bitch." "This package came special delivery as I was moving out. I signed for it. Goodbye."<br />
Off the side of the desk he found the package, plain brown wrapper type. Closer inspection found it from the 64th Street Gym. Mark grunted. "What does THAT fuckin' faggot want?" he asked himself, thinking of that new manager, that bleach blonde muscle-bound fag who was turning HIS gym -- MARK'S gym! -- into some queer boy spandex club. Man, it had been GREAT standing outside that guy's office as Edward tore him a new hole! Mark hoped that his old frat president would join him in a little fag-bashing when he got back from his trip. First that blonde muscle-queen, then that little skinny priss from the locker room. That red-haired freak in the spandex. Spandex. Gym wear for faggots. "I shoulda just beaten the shit out of him then," he thought. "Spared him the wait."<br />
This was good. Finding a focal point for his anger was good. He couldn't do anything about Rachel, but he COULD kick the shit out of that little queen from the gym. Mark was smiling as he ripped the package top off. A note, in square, block letters by someone who pressed hard as he wrote: "Mark -- I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, and I hope you'll accept this package along with my apologies. Of course, I'll be all too happy to hear your opinions of the changes over the next few days, and happy to accept your input. Enjoy! --Gino."<br />
Mark smirked and dug through the package. On top was a gym brochure, which he largely ignored -- only glancing briefly at the cover, an architect's rendition of the new gym front -- and underneath that he found the box divided in half. On one side a toiletries bag, and loose items on the other. "What the fuck?" he said, as he pulled out the bag. A protein bar fell into the empty box space, catching Mark's attention. "Okay, cool," he said, opening it and casually eating it as he examined the toiletry bag. Fag or not, free food was free food.<br />
Unzipping it, Mark found the bag contained several bottles: shampoo, conditioner, hot oil treatments, everything he'd been missing a moment ago, and not just drug-store items, top of the line brands. "All right," he said. "Score two for Gino." Without realizing it, he released a little of his anger. It was gonna be hard to hate this guy if he kept doing the right things. Well, he reasoned, chuckling, he could still hate the little red-haired queer.<br />
The protein bar was gone like that, and Mark reached for another. This one was a different flavor, but he hardly noticed. He was looking around the room as he ate, at all the missing furniture and empty space. He couldn't look anymore. He was suddenly restless. Finishing the second bar, he took a third and wandered to the back bedroom, the weightroom. He felt like he did when he'd had too much caffeine.<br />
No, not caffeine. He was horny. That was it. He was feeling horny. Mixed there with his aggression, his dick started to rise, and he unconciously held it with his free hand, feeling it grow beneath his trousers. He may not have had the biggest dick in the world, but he dared anybody to say that to him. A big fucker like him. He watched himself finish the protein bar and gently fiddle with his cock in the big, ugly mirror. The one that always made him look a little wider.<br />
He was okay with the way he looked, big and bulky. Pushing thirty or not, he was still a contender. Maybe he wasn't as big as he'd been in his prime -- his senior season of ball, THEN he'd been big, tipping the scale at a bulky 260, as opposed to the 230 he was now. And maybe his belly swelled a little more, but he challenged anybody to take him on. Suddenly, Mark flexed into the big, ugly mirror, a crab shot, showing his traps and his shoulders. He could clearly see his cock pushing against his dress pants, casting a shadow down his thigh. It called to him. Swallowing the last of the protein bar, he ripped his pants open and grabbed his aching dick, yanking at it with a demanding hunger. He was barely able to glance at himself in the mirror before he shot.<br />
HIs orgasm was monstrous. Unstoppable. Flagrant. He came like he never had before, with a force and erotic power that was almost blinding in its intensity. If not for the sheer power of his legs, he would've fallen to his knees. "Fuck," he heaved, still pumping a bit more jizz out. He saw himself in the mirror and almost felt embarrassed. Fortunately, there was no girlfriend to catch him, no one to know but his reflection, so Mark avoided guilt, wiped his hands on a sweat towel, and tucked his sensitive cock back into his pants, catching a look and flexing a little before leaving the room, strangely energized.<br />
Walking back to the living room, he realized he wasn't angry anymore -- "Trust a good jerk to relieve stress," he thought. "SHE never gave me a climax that good." -- and he FELT good. Really good. Big. Pumped. He laughed. He felt pumped. Instead of exhausting him, like cumming usually did, he felt primed. He found himself back at the desk, looking again in the package from the gym.<br />
He pulled out a magazine: Monsters of Muscle, a morphed-out picture of Nasser el Sonbaty on the cover, his arms impossibly large. Mark's cock twitched, but instead of putting the magazine down, he fanned through the first couple of pages. These guys were massive, pic after pic of 250 plus-pound, bloated muscle. Mark leaned back in his desk chair, and studied. He felt himself getting harder, but ignored it, instead of rationalizing it.<br />
He read the article -- which is to say, he looked at the pictoral -- of the recent Olympia contest, those massive men in skimpy posing trunks. Even at his size, Mark secretly envied them their builds. His muscle was bulky, undefined. A lineman's. Their bodies were big -- bigger than him -- and still ripped to shreds. His body was built for power, for hitting, theirs to pose, to perfect. He could never stand in front of an audience and pose, much less in the barely concealing trunks these paragons wore.<br />
He found himself touching his cock while he flipped the pages, trying to imagine how it would feel to go head to head with those guys. To be on that level. To hear the audience scream as he flexed...<br />
He shot his load then, in his pants, his orgasm as intense as before, causing him to flex his entire body. The magazine fell to the floor as he twitched in the chair. Flexing, flexing, the seams of his shirt suddenly straining against the bulge of his biceps, popping the top button of his shirt, then the next down, and then the next as he expanded his rib cage. The feeling of his sleeves bursting as he flexed his guns, like a fantasy come true. The sound of his pants tearing down the ass.<br />
When the orgasm subsided, he collapsed back in the chair, panting. "What the fuck?" he said. And he knew something had happened the second he lifted his arm to touch his head. Even with his eyes closed, he knew.<br />
His arm was heavier.<br />
He actually gasped when his saw it. When he opened his eyes, and looked at the arm lifted before him -- HIS arm! -- and saw how the sleeve had torn at the seam, and the muscle that bulged out, he gasped. He was bigger. He could FEEL it. "What the fuck?"<br />
He nearly lost his balance when he stood to run to the weightroom, the distribution of weight so different on his body. And when he got a good look at himself in the big, ugly mirror, he froze. It wasn't that he was that much larger, but the shape was different. Where he'd been blocky, and gorilla built, he saw now through his torn shirt that he had a "v." A fucking "V!" Never, NEVER had that before.<br />
He loved how he felt when he tore out of the shirt, ripping it open like Superman in a phone booth, exposing his thickly muscled chest and his blocky abs. He could see the outline of his abs! His mother fucking, where have then been all his life abs! He'd been a well-gutted lineman since high school -- "Abs are for fags!" had always been his adopted motto -- but now that he was seeing them, he wished they were better. He was gonna have to work on them harder. Maybe it was time for a new motto.<br />
He had to tear the dress pants off, too, his thighs too large to pass through. His legs had always been thickly muscled -- to hold the bulk of his upper body -- but the shape there too had changed. The big, ugly mirror didn't lie. His calves jutted out, sloping down to his thin ankle, the sweep of his quad curving back to his narrow, newly defined waist. His tight boxer shorts -- perviously baggy -- straining to hold his growing package.<br />
Mark jumped on the scale. When it settled on "253," he said, "Holy fuck." That morning, at the gym, he'd weighed only 234. It took him a few seconds to do the math, but he ended up with a nineteen pound difference. How could he have gained nineteen pounds? They hadn't even worked out that hard today.<br />
That stuff from the gym! Maybe there was something.... "That's ridiculous," he said, but what else could it be? And why was it suddenly so hard to think?<br />
He went back to the box, as if the box would have the answer -- certainly his dick hoped so -- and reached in, digging around amongst the contents. His fingers felt material, and the second he touched it, his cock jumped, and that tease alone caused him to pull whatever it was out.<br />
Posers. Skimpy blue trunks like the men in the magazine wore. Mark held them in his thick fingers, thinking, "These would barely cover me." Instinctively, he found them gay, a football player -- a man -- would never wear something this small, this revealing. But the men in the magazine, those super-juiced paragons of masculanity, THEY wore trunks like this. All the time. And none of them were gay.<br />
But as he held the suit in his hands, he became erect. THAT was gay. Why was he so turned on by these stupid posers? He'd never been aroused by anything like this before. Of course, he'd never had a body like this before. He'd never had the shape and musculature he had now. Never had the definition.<br />
He wanted to see his hot, new body in these trunks. He wanted to pose like the bodybuilders did. He wanted... no, he NEEDED the attention.<br />
Mark tore off his boxer shorts, taking a second to admire his plumping cock -- Was that getting bigger, too? -- before he slid the trunks on. When the material settled on his waist, clung to his balls, gripped his growing dick, Mark sighed, finding it too hard to breathe, he was so turned on. Walking to the back bedroom, Mark imagined himself walking onstage at the Olympia, along with his massive brothers, his fellow supermen, so he held himself a little bigger, walked a little taller, swayed a little with his muscular ass. He felt incredible.<br />
He just stared at himself in the big, ugly mirror, the cut of his abs, the sweep of his thigh, the slope of his traps. He raised his thick arms into a front double bicep. "Holy fuck," he said, as he fell in love with his body. "Holy fuck." He went from pose to pose, smoothly and fluidly, as if he'd always done so. He felt an incredible connection with his muscles, able to sense and flex each minute fiber. And his cock, sensitive but demanding, rose straight up out of the top of the trunks.<br />
He loved how he looked, loved how the suit matched the color of his eyes. He was beautiful. He raised his hand to the elastic of his ponytail and released his hair, shaking his head to make it spill out around his shoulders. He was so taken with himself, he lowered his head and gave his reflection "the eye," flirting with it, tracing his big hand down the mound of his furry pec, fingering his nipple, over the definition in his belly, following the line of his happy trail, and finally settling on his package, feeling his balls through the material.<br />
If it were possible, his orgasms were getting better. He screamed as he came this time, losing his balance and collapsing. On his hands and knees, his head bowed, his hair hanging in his face, his dick still pulsing, Mark struggled to catch his breath. This time, when he stood, he knew what had happened to him before he even looked. He could feel the tightness in the posing trunks, too, like they'd suddenly become too small for him.<br />
He knew. Before he'd looked, he knew. He'd become big. No, not just big. He'd become massive. When he saw his size, his mind-blowing size, he couldn't help but flex, but stare at the monster he'd become.<br />
He loved it. He loved how the muscle looked too large for his frame, how the slabs of his chest forced his nipples to point straight down, how his arms looked bigger than most men's legs. He loved that his traps rose from his shoulders to the bottom of his ears, how his delts rounded like bowling balls, the jut of his back, taking his "v" to a "u." His glorious, chiseled abs, leading the eye to his tiny waist -- his TINY waist! So tight, so defined, he recognized how sexy he was. He LIKED how sexy he was.<br />
When he turned to do a side-chest pose, to show his triceps, he was instead distracted by his ass. Round and hugely muscled, he saw himself as a horse, a beast of burden, strong. His legs, his hamstrings flared out below that perfect ass, each leg easily as thick as his waist. If not thicker.<br />
The tiny posing trunks barely held him. Plumped in the swollen pouch, his cock -- yeah, his cock WAS bigger; his balls hung lower, too -- begged for attention. He cupped his package with his big hand. "I'll get back to you," he said to it, and went back to posing in the big, beautiful mirror. He ran to the living room and retrieved the magazine -- Monsters of Muscle, like HE was now -- and imitated the poses he saw within its pages, practicing each and perfecting them.<br />
He could easily compete with these guys. He was just as big. Bigger. And a trip to the bathroom confirmed his weight: 286. Six-three and two eighty-six. He was fucking awesome! He should compete, he thought, as he looked at himself in the big, beautiful mirror, but for two things: he was still hairy -- he'd always been hairy, though not as much a gorilla as his friend Jarod. What the fuck was that word? Hirsute? Or something like that. He was HAIRY. And Mark was, too. His blonde chest hair, his pubes, the hair on his arms and legs -- and his shoulders! -- it was too much. He'd never shaved before, always thought it was kind of faggy -- Men have hair! -- yet these big monsters shaved, or waxed, or something. And they weren't gay. Or maybe they were. Who the fuck cares? They're big.<br />
And he didn't know the first thing about getting cut, or ripped, or whatever. He'd always been bulky, never worried about what he ate, didn't know for diet. How was he supposed to learn about nutrition and supplements and shit? He could barely pronounce the NAMES of supplements, much less know what they did.<br />
But as he flexed for himself, he knew he wanted to compete, wanted people -- guys -- to see his big body, hear their admiration, accept their worship...<br />
That thought actually started to get him hard again, and he loved the way his big cock filled his posing trunks. He could easily win a competition, if he had someone tell him how.<br />
He needed a trainer. That was it. The ease with which he accepted that thought surprised him, like he was pleased he was able to think of the right answer; Mark was never much on thinking. But a trainer would think about that stuff for him. Like a reward for a correct answer, his cock sprang to life. Smiling, Mark grabbed his package appreciatively.<br />
His dick led him back to the box from the gym, and Mark started to put it together, although his cock had obviously figured it out already. Mark rooted through it with one hand, jolts of electricity passing right through him to his dick, and he deliberately started to stroke. Sitting in the chair, beating now with enthusiasm, the gym brochure caught his eye, cast aside on the desktop. Mark thumbed through it, pausing on the page with the staff pictures.<br />
There was Gino, the manager, with his bleach-blonde hair and his massive -- smooth! -- body packed into a black muscle shirt, bearing the corporate logo. His smile was open, sincere, and Mark thought that maybe he'd misjudged Gino. After all, Gino had just been doing his job -- he didn't OWN the place, after all -- and Edward had come down on him pretty hard. Sometimes Edward could be pretty mean, Mark thought. Besides, Gino had sent this apology package. And Mark liked the package so far. More importantly, his cock liked the package so far. Mark smiled. No, Gino wasn't so bad.<br />
And Gino had a GREAT body! Not as big as Mark -- shit, almost nobody was as big as Mark -- but cut. And smooth. If nothing else, maybe Gino would tell him the best way to shave. (And this was the moment when Mark realized he was about to talk to another guy about shaving his body! Wasn't that for girls? Wasn't that gay? But for some reason, he couldn't keep the thought going long enough to give it weight. Besides, his cock wanted him to turn the page.)<br />
So, he turned the page. Still stroking, he felt like he did when he was looking at porn, or Playboy, or Maxim, pictures of hot naked chicks, all that nasty stuff. Now here he was, looking at pics of Gino, thinking about shaving, and almost ready to cum again. He shrugged it off. Right now, horny as he was, he could be looking at pictures of dead animals and he'd still get off. Besides, he wasn't beating off TO the pics of Gino, he was just looking at them WHILE he was beating off. A big difference.<br />
And when he turned the page, when he saw the image of the personal trainer, of the red-headed fag he'd almost beaten up in the locker room. That guy -- Kenny! -- staring at him from the photo and smiling, flexing his outrageously cut abs for the camera, Mark came with a scream. He actually heard his jizz splat against the brochure cover, the intensity of his orgasms continuing to improve.<br />
And he couldn't take his eye from the page. Even while the last bits of jism dripped from his softening dick, he absently wiped his hand on his gargantuan thigh and traced the words in Kenny's bio with his fingers as he read them, leaving a little trail of moisture behind. Kenny was a personal trainer, degreed in nutrition and bio-chemistry. "Looking for a man who's ready to go ALL THE WAY," his ad copy read. "(...to the Olympia, I mean!)"<br />
Mark couldn't help but smile at the bad joke. So, the little queer was a nutritionist and personal trainer! And by the looks of his abs, he followed his own advice. And by the look of his pits, he knew a little something about shaving, too. Mark had never been much of a thinker, even less so now, but it made sense to him that if he was gonna get advice about posing and shaving, he should get it from a fag. Who else would know better? Although Mark found it funny that he would be more comfortable talking to a gay guy about that stuff than his straight friends, he dismissed it easily enough. Those guys would just laugh at him if he even brought the subject up. At least the little fag would take him seriously.<br />
He dialed Kenny's service number before he realized what he was doing. While the line was connecting, he studied his finger, still damp from his cum. Absently, Mark stuck it in his mouth and sucked it, interested in the taste of himself -- salty, but not bad. Thank god the guys couldn't see THIS! He chuckled to himself, then one-by-one licked the rest of his fingers. Protein. The phone rang. Mark waited for the machine to pick up.<br />
"Hellooo?" sing-songed the voice that answered. Mark hadn't expected to get a person. What time was it? Only a couple of hours ago, he'd gotten home from work, and something had happened... someone... left. "I said, Helooo!?"<br />
"I'm sorry," Mark said, his voice deep and soft, different somehow. (But of course different -- his jaw had completely changed shape.) "I was expecting a machine."<br />
He heard laughter as the voice said, "Believe me, buddy. I'm a machine!"<br />
Mark laughed politely. His corporate, shmooz-the-client chuckle. "Say," he said, "how much would it cost for a consultation?"<br />
"What are you looking for?"<br />
"Well," Mark began, surprised at how easily this was coming out, "I'm thinkin' about competing, but I got some questions and stuff."<br />
"That's cool," Kenny said. "That's what I do. Tell me your stats, buddy."<br />
Mark didn't know his stats; he knew he was big as fuck, tho. "Just a minute ago, I weighed 286," he said.<br />
He heard Kenny gasp. "286? That's pretty big. You a powerlifter? What's your bodyfat?"<br />
"I don't know," Mark said, feeling the ridges of his abs. "Maybe ten percent."<br />
"Ten percent?" came Kenny's disbelieving voice. "At two-eighty six? That's impossible!"<br />
Mark felt like he should get angry at this, but he found it difficult to do anything but plead. "No, " he said. "It's true. It might even be less. I don't know. You can clearly see my abs."<br />
"At two-eighty six? At ten-percent bodyfat?" Kenny said, "I definitely WANT to see your abs! When can we get together?"<br />
It had been that simple. A few directions, some polite chit-chat, and that had been that. Mark was surprised at how easy it all had been. What did he have against this guy? It was so hard to remember. As he studied Kenny's picture, as he looked at Kenny's abs, he flashed on something that had happened that morning in the locker room. He had threatened Kenny. Why? 'Cuz the dude was ripped? 'Cuz the guy'd been wearing spandex? And looked GOOD in it? "Had I gotten angry because I could never wear spandex?" he thought. "Was I jealous?"<br />
(Another moment: had he just thought another guy looked good in spandex? No, he rationalized. No, it wasn't like that. What's wrong with appreciating a great body? Wasn't he in the body business? Did he lift for health or vanity? Does ANYONE lift for health? Nothing wrong then with looking at another guy and adjudicating him. Not looking at his body sexually, but like a competitor. Right? And this guy Kenny had a great body, and showed it off great in spandex. What was wrong with that?)<br />
Mark wished HE had some spandex; he bet he'd look better than Kenny -- he was easily a hundred pounds heavier, after all. Of course, he'd never been open to spandex before, when he'd been a flabby lineman who just liked being bulky. But on the body he had now...<br />
At that thought, his cock twitched again, and Mark realized he was still on the phone. He heard Kenny's voice. "I said, when can we get together?" The voice had a patronizing edge to it, like it was speaking to a child. Mark thought of being angry about that, but he realized that he was being slow on the answers. Maybe he deserved it.<br />
"Uh, anytime," Mark said. "I got no obligations." It felt good to say that, like he was already over -- what was her name? -- that stupid bitch. No, Mark was free. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to. No ball and chain demanding his time.<br />
"Excellent," Kenny said -- and Mark almost heard the unspoken "Good boy!" that followed. "My shift here is just finishing up. I can be there in a half-an-hour. Is that cool?"<br />
"Um, yeah," Mark said, not quite up to speed with the conversation. Kenny was making decisions so quickly, Mark couldn't keep up. But he gave directions easily enough, and found himself brushing his hair and sprucing up while he waited, unmindful of wearing just the posing trunks. He was anxious to see what Kenny thought; he'd forgotten all about their first meeting that morning.<br />
Twenty minutes later, Kenny knocked on the door. Mark had been waiting on the small stool in the alcove next to the door, patiently sitting and thinking of nothing but the anticipation of Kenny's arrival. He was anxious to show off, to get Kenny's approval. And when Kenny knocked on the door, Mark leapt to answer it, fairly ripping the door from its hinges to get it open.<br />
And there was Kenny, handsome, red-headed Kenny. He wore a v-neck athletic shirt which showed the cuts of his upper chest, the veins in his arms, and a pair of khaki shorts. He gasped when he saw Mark, not just from the 285 pounds of hairy muscle barely wearing a pair of blue posing trunks, but connecting the blond mass before him with the guy that nearly beat the crap out of him that morning. "You're that guy," he said, backing up a step.<br />
"No, no," Mark said, reaching out. "That wasn't me. I reacted bad. Please, I'm different now. Grown a little."<br />
Kenny smirked, but still kept his distance. "You've grown a lot," he said.<br />
"Please help me," Mark said suddenly, almost pleading. "I don't know what to do. I need to shave, and I don't know. I never. And I gotta tan, I mean, if I wanna compete. And can I compete? Do I got the stuff? So I called you and I figured... you know... that you'd know. Your thing said you were a trainer, and a nutrition guy."<br />
Kenny realized it then. The big lug in front of him WAS different than he had been that morning. He'd become stupid. How he'd lucked out on that body was anybody's guess -- obviously, the big guy wasn't gonna be able to tell him -- (Maybe whatever made him this freaky big also robbed him of his brain.) -- whatever. For whatever reason, he'd turned to Kenny. And Kenny -- who'd had this fantasy before -- had always known what he'd do if presented with this situation. Kenny'd give the orders.<br />
"Well," said Kenny, "let's get you shaved first, see what we have to work with."<br />
Mark was sad, like a puppy. "That's why I called. I don't know how, man. I never...."<br />
"That's cool," said Kenny, leading Mark inside by the arm. "I'll show you. I'll show you all kinds of things."<br />
Mark was so grateful, he insisted on being helpful. "I got some new shaving gel and razors in the living room," Mark said. "Lemme go get 'em." He ran to the box while Kenny started to run the water in the bathtub. He was so excited about shaving that he barely gave it any thought. But when Kenny took the shaving supplies from him and said, "Strip," Mark had a moment. He didn't know if he could be naked in front of a gay guy. Kenny read his hesitation.<br />
"If I'm gonna shave you, I'm gonna see you naked," Kenny said. "Now, strip."<br />
He may have been uncomfortable, but he did. He was actually surprised by how easy it was to obey. Easier than thinking for himself, anyway. Besides, if he was gonna show off for the little queer, he might as well show him everything, and his cock was lookin' good...<br />
That thought shocked him. He'd never given his cock much thought before -- or any cock, for that matter. But as it dangled there before his big balls, he realized that he'd never even measured it, and it had obviously seen the benefits of his growth. Hell, it had been the cause of his growth, hadn't it? It felt so good. He really needed to treat his cock better. And he'd start by showing it off.<br />
Being naked in front of this gay guy was kind of fun. Mark knew he was being a tease, but none of the other guys would appreciate his new body in quite the same way. And it felt good to be appreciated, no matter who was doing it. (God knows Edward and his old frat buddies didn't appreciate him this way. Edward could never appreciate another man.) Mark looked to Kenny for signs of approval. Who would know if his body was decent better than a gay guy?<br />
And Kenny obviously approved. He let out a little gasp of air. "Nice," he said. "Um... don't take that the wrong way. I mean, I know you're straight."<br />
"I don't mind," said Mark, flexing his abs, secretly happy to please.<br />
Kenny ran the bathwater, warm and comfortable, and Mark happily lay back in the tub, where he barely fit, and let Kenny go to work. The lather on his chest, the sharp-edged zip of the razor, Kenny's strong hands as he massaged Mark's skin, or maybe just the shaving supplies from the mystery box caused his erection. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but how good it felt. "Oh my," said Kenny, as Mark's cock continued to grow.<br />
Mark lazilly opened his eyes and looked at Kenny looking at his dick. "Can't help it," Mark said. "This feels really good. Hope you don't mind."<br />
Kenny smiled. "I don't mind," he said. "And as far as feeling good is concerned, lemme show you what feels good."<br />
Mark half-expected Kenny to blow him then, to take his bigger-than-before cock and start sucking. Instead, Kenny smeared his dick in lather and ran the razor over it, shaving it clean to the root. The lather was warm on his cock and balls, tingling, pleasurable, then the stroke of the razor removing his hair -- and the chemicals in the lather making sure that it would never grow back -- and Kenny's firm, but gentle massage on the clean skin. Mark was in ecstasy, inches from cumming.<br />
He looked down his smooth, glistening torso, over his massive, balloon-like pecs, over the ridges of his eight-pack, down the hip-line to his beautifully clean cock, bits of lather here and there, painfully erect in Kenny's hand. He met Kenny's gaze, and the two of them had understanding; Mark was almost in tears.<br />
When Kenny finally took Mark's cock in his mouth, Mark gave up any pretention he ever had of his old life. Nothing -- nothing! -- was better than what he was feeling right now. Any girl he'd ever been with, any sex he'd ever thought about, any fantasy he'd ever dreamed, none of that compared to the swollen pleasure he now experienced with Kenny.<br />
Mark rolled his eyes back in his head and shot. And shot. And shot.<br />
And changed.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-91287171904232624202011-01-16T16:48:00.000-08:002011-01-17T14:53:02.121-08:004.) WHEN I FIGHT AUTHORITY... AUTHORITY ALWAYS WINS<div id="masthead"><strong><u>CHAPTER 1</u></strong><br />
<br />
</div><div></div><div>Ring! Ring! Ring!</div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>"Somebody get that!" I yelled.<br />
No answer<br />
"SOMEBODY GET THE PHONE!"<br />
It continued to ring. Oh, that's right...they all have jobs. Oh well. I reached out from under the comfort of my sheets and grabbed for the phone drowsily. "If this ain't Keanue Reeves calling to admit his uncontrollable attraction to me, you're going to be very sorry."<br />
"Damien.....?" came a tentative voice on the other side of the phone.<br />
"This don't sound like he Keanue," I accused as I started to drift back asleep.<br />
"It's Mark."<br />
I woke up a little, I hadn't heard from Mark since I moved in with his old roommates, Them finding out I knew Mark the gay man they threw out and beat up for coming out of the closet in their house, might cause some awkward questions, "Mark, how are you? You know you shouldn't be calling here, I'm not quite done yet and if you..." I started saying but he cut me off.<br />
"I had to call and tell you this weird thing I saw yesterday," He pressed on in his cloying tone.<br />
"What?" I asked in confusion, I'll admit, I'm not the most coherent person when I wake up.<br />
He paused and then launched into one of his typical long-winded stories, "Well, the other night I went clubbing with a bunch of friends downtown and we ended up in this bar called the Meat Market. It was really hopping and there was this gorgeous guy there..."<br />
"Mark If you woke me up to tell me about some one night stand I'm gonna..."<br />
"Let me finish," He said, "Anyway there was this gorgeous guy there. He had all these big round muscles, the roundest pecs I've ever seen and he was wearing this outrages outfit. Just a pair of tiny red Lycra shorts and a pair of knee high cast hugging plastic red boots." There was a pause so I could take in all the information. "Oh and the cutest blonde dye job I've ever seen, his dark roots were all growing out so it looked frosted. Anyway I spent the whole night staring at this hunk. 1 -because well how could you not? And 2 because I could have sworn I knew him. And guess who it was?"<br />
I irritably asked him "I don't know mark who was it?"<br />
"IT was Gino!" He yelled in an accusatory tone. "Why the hell was Gino Slavatore dancing in a pair of hot pants at a club like the meat market and making out with some blonde guy?" He demanded.<br />
I was suddenly extremely interested in what mark was saying, "What do you mean HE was dancing with some blonde guy?" I asked hotly, surprised by the jealousy in my voice.<br />
"That's not the point."<br />
"Oh...What is?"<br />
He practically was shrieking in my ear "What did you do to him?"<br />
"What I said I would, I have to say, at first I was a little shocked it worked too. But you should see what else I've been able to do. We're not talkin about turning scarves into doves here man."<br />
"You made Gino...Hard as nails, mean to the bone, Italian tempered, Gino the street thug gay?"<br />
"Basically."<br />
"How?"<br />
Why was he so stupid? "I convinced him it was the only way to go with my good looks and charm, oh and lots of pie graphs."<br />
"You didn't use that weird stuff you major in did you?"<br />
I was so irritated I didn't have time to come up with a snide remark "Of course you moron."<br />
"Oh my god," he gasped.<br />
"Christ if you're getting this worked up over Gino, seeing Red would absolutely send you into hysteric's."<br />
"Who's Red?" he asked confused.<br />
"Oh I mean Eric."<br />
"What did you do to Eric?" he asked in a frightened tone.<br />
"First let me ask you this, have you ever been laid bareback in the cab of 18 wheeler Mac truck, using your flannel shirt as a blanket?" I asked with a Cheshire cat grin.<br />
"Hell no," he exclaimed confused.<br />
"I bet Eric has." And then I started laughing really hard.<br />
"Why are you doing this to them?" His waify voice blared at me<br />
I sat up in bed, "You know why because they were rude to you and needed a lesson. Well that was the reason in the beginning, then it was because I was bored...then because they're like really hot but I think when I write the book I'll say it was because I felt that I was somehow giving something back to society."<br />
"Stop making jokes," he snapped in a bitchy tone.<br />
"Mark quit the Drama Queen routine, this doesn't concern you." My rope was quickly ending.<br />
"How could you do this to three unsuspecting men?" He wined in my ear.<br />
I lit a cigarette in the cup of my hand and shut my blinds, "9" I mumbled through my clenched lips as I struggled to hold the phone and light my cigarette.<br />
"What?" he almost screamed.<br />
I exhaled a cloud of smoke, more interested in the shapes it made then the idiot on the line, "The last count was 9."<br />
"How did you involve 6 other men in this nightmare?"<br />
"I got on a roll." I shrugged.<br />
"You're loosing you mind!" He simpered.<br />
I rolled my eyes heavenward "We all go a little mad sometimes Mark," I paused thinking, "I just know enough about the occult to make my insanity productive."<br />
"Someone has got to stop you." He said over dramatically.<br />
"Get real Mark." He was pissing me off.<br />
"No this is unnatural Damien, you've taken things to far. Someone's got to put an end to this." He stated nobly<br />
"What are you going to do call Ghostbusters?"<br />
"NO, I'm going to tell them what you did to them..." He said with a little more apprehension then he intended.<br />
I blew him off "Get real Indiana Mary, You're not going to do anything."<br />
"Oh yes I am." He threatened.<br />
"Look here Mark you're a sweet albeit pathetically stupid and weak guy, don't mess with a force beyond your comprehension."<br />
"Oh yeah what's that?" He asked snidely.<br />
"Me. And I don't need a magic wand to take you out back and beat the piss out of you." I hung up the phone and didn't give the issue another thought, which in retrospect was a big mistake....</div><div class="mindthegap">When events spiral out of your control so completely it's hard to trace events back to the point where things began to fall apart. But if I were really thinking I would know it was the day I had overestimated myself and regrettably underestimated other key figures. Basically I was getting cocky and bored and had thrown far too many balls in the air.<br />
It was the night after the phone call from frantic little Mark and the weekend after I had helped Gino reorganize his Gym and was probably riding a little high off the thrill of reshaping reality to fit my mood and also gaining Gino's further gratitude and amorous attentions. Those Big Italian eyes thankful and mooning would go to anyone's head. I have never been good at what you would call multi-tasking.<br />
I was in the middle of a large tome of religious purification rights from a rare Tigress and Euphrates River religious sect. It was as dull as watching paint dry...on a mime.<br />
So when Brian walked in the front door dripping sweat still in his football uniform and growling like a rabid dog it was a welcome respite.<br />
"You look happy." I told the ripped and sweating picture of Americana.<br />
"What's it to you?" He sneered as he dropped his shoulder pads and helmet on the couch.<br />
I considered "Nothing really, just bored." I answered matter-o-factly.<br />
He peeled off his jersey showing his strong torso ripped to functional perfection. "Coach is bullshittin' me, treatin' me like a damn freshmen, I know how to run MY team better then that old jerk." He threw back his head and squirted water from his water bottle into his mouth. His shaggy brown hair matted to his head, his every pore oozing sweat and his tight game pants all combined to make the scene look like a sports spread in Playgirl. I started laughing almost immediately.<br />
"You think that's funny asshole?" Brian barked.<br />
"Yea..." I said smiling at the centerfold the jerk was giving me, " but anyway aren't you supposed to do what the coach says...I mean isn't that the whole point of having a coach?"<br />
"Look I know what the hell I'm doing and I don't need some old woman trying to fuss over me, He better just sit on the sidelines like a good girl or I'll beat his..." He mumbled on in a juvenile tangent like a spoiled brat.<br />
"Well that's a mature and level headed solution, why don't you just take his lunch money?"<br />
I watched in morbid fascination as Brian's Face grew redder and redder and he began to almost foam at the mouth. His strong square jaw roaring in frustration and his whole body tensing in anger. He squeezed the water bottle in his hand until the tanned flesh of his arm erupted into the large muscles of his bicep. His chest heaved up and down forcing the hairy fur of his pecs to lift up and down in steady rhythm. Brian was hot. No doubt about it so masculine, he was living breathing testosterone. With his Rock hard body, bad attitude and natural athletic ability no one ever probably told him no.<br />
"You need some Discipline." I offered off handedly.<br />
"What?"<br />
"Oh...I'm sorry,... nothing, I mean Right on man!"<br />
"That's what I thought." Brian trudged up the stairs to his room with me watching his beefy ass move underneath the tight white pants. His legs were fury trunks of raw power that made me salivate.<br />
"What a dick." I said after my roommate was out of earshot.<br />
"How do you know? Don't tell me you've seen it?" Gino said lecherously from behind me.<br />
I mentally swore in irritation. "I hate it when you sneak up on me like that."<br />
I turned around and was stunned. "Did you fuck a brooks brother and then in the rush to get dressed before his wife got home, ended up in his clothes instead of yours?"<br />
"Has anyone ever told you, that you aren't as funny as you think you are?" Gino said to me. As he came around to the front of the couch. He was dressed to the nine's. He was wearing a deep blue suit with a red power tie. He looked elegantly handsome. His large shoulders and wide biceps only looked bigger in his well-cut suit.<br />
"Repeatedly. But honestly you look great."<br />
"Thanks I had a meeting with the owners of the gym, They were really pleased with my management especially how I filled all the open positions so fast." He gave me a killer smile and then a polite little thank you clap.<br />
"Please no applause, just throw money." I answered.<br />
"I have a better idea on how I could thank you." He gave me a lusty smirk and began to advance on me...<br />
Ding-Dong.<br />
Saved by the bell, as it were.<br />
"Christ, Every time I get ready to..." He grumbled as he went to the door.<br />
He opened the door and was greeted by the wide vacant eyes of a blonde girl in a tank top and shorts. "Hi, does a Brian live here?"<br />
"Yeah," Gino let her in.<br />
"We're supposed to go out tonight, my name's Chrissy." She giggled.<br />
I looked over at her impatiently. People who conform to stereotypes based souly on the pigment of their hair bother me. "He just came home from practice, he probably won't be ready for awhile." I explained.<br />
She took along time to absorb that information and the smiled looking at Gino's hunky body tightly clothed in expensive fabric. "That's okay by me, I'm sure I'll fine someway to entertain myself." She gave Gino a wink.<br />
The old Gino would have had his hands all over her big tits and plowing her mouth with his tongue, my Gino just gave her a flat unimpressed look and sat down grumpily.<br />
I gave her a look that spoke volumes. The daggers my eyes were shooting basically translated into, Look here sister I've already staked my claim on this here territory, now get to steppin'. Chrissy obviously the idiot her name and bust line belied didn't catch the warning she went over and sat right next to Gino with one hand on his big thigh, "So what is it you do?"<br />
I gave her another dark look, "I'm sorry Gino prefers Silence to awkward conversation."<br />
She got all huffy, "How do you know what he prefers."<br />
Gino intervened cordially "We're sorry Damien and I were in the middle of a long over due discussion when you showed up, We're both a little irritable, we apologize Mandy."<br />
"Chrissy," She corrected.<br />
"Whatever," he answered obviously pushed beyond even his limitless patience.<br />
The little skank looked as if she was going to mount a second attack on Gino when there was a loud rumble that brought all our attention's to the staircase as Brian ran down them like a roll of thunder. He had changed into a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt. He hadn't taken the time to shower and the sweat from his practice and its accompanying prevalent odor remained. "C'mon Chrissy let's get going."<br />
"You're going like that?" She asked skeptically sizing up his sweaty forehead and matted hair.<br />
"Yeah, what about it?"<br />
"She means you're not going to shower or anything?" I pointed out.<br />
"Fuck no."<br />
Chrissy looked distraught "But..."<br />
He gave her a dark look, "But what bitch? If you got a problem you can go home and I can call somebody else."<br />
Chrissy smiled a big dumb pleasing smile, "Sorry Brian."<br />
"That's better, now let's go."<br />
I heard the door slam behind Brian and Chrissy, "I said it once and I'll say it again, What a dick."<br />
I looked for Gino's agreement but caught instead an excited and intense glance. He obviously saw this as an opportunity for some alone time so I immediately reached for the nearest book and hid behind the aged leather.<br />
"I wanna have a little talk with you D." Gino said seductively.<br />
I reached into my shirt pocket and grabbed my reading glasses. And began to read the most uninteresting passage about how the Maenads of Ancient Greece drank the blood of their victims in a rite to ensure sexual stamina. "Go right ahead." I said offhandedly. "And stop calling me D."<br />
"Alright. I get you're game buddy." He smiled.<br />
"What are you babbling about." I asked as I continued to immerse myself in my reading.<br />
"Two can play this game baby. And I should warn you..." A bold red tie landed on the large page I was reading. "I'm into games."<br />
"What are you...?" I looked up to be greeted by the welcome vision of Gino loosening his collar and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his gorgeously muscled chest. He pulled his white shirt out from his pants revealing his low hanging waistline and the enticing curve of his exposed hip bones.<br />
"Every time I try and have a serious discussion with you hide behind one of those old books to ignore me." He shrugged out his jacket letting it drop to the floor. He removed one bulging arm from the coning sleeves off his cuffed shirt. I found myself intently following the swell of his bicep as he reached across his pecs to remove the other sleeve. "So I'm just going to have to find some way to keep you're attention." He threw the discarded shirt and it landed next to me. He stood before me naked to the waist his big upper body pumped and perfect in contrast to his well-fitted pants. I took one look at the mind numbingly hunky Italian stallion before me and had to repress a sigh of sexual appreciation. He stood relaxed and cocky that the mere sight of his muscled body would be enough to impress me. And it sure as hell was but I wasn't going to let him know that.<br />
"I've got work to do Gino, either get serious or come back later alright?" I had to force myself to return my gaze to the stupid-fucking book.<br />
"This is as serious as I get." I heard the faint thud oh him removing his loafers. Oh Christ he wouldn't...There was the sound of metal clicking from him undoing his belt...of course he would. I couldn't help but to look up as he dropped his pants to the floor. He was wearing a pair of tiny black boxer briefs that had to be the single most erotic things I'd ever seen in my life. They hugged his big ass and showed off his heavy package perfectly. His big hairless thighs were olive skinned perfection against the black bushel of his immense bulge. He stepped out of the pants and again stood confident in front of me in only his skimpy underwear and black socks. He kept his socks on. And that for some reason combined with the picture of his humpy muscled body and tightly packed cock seemed wildly sexy to me. "Now do I have you're full attention?"<br />
I started to speak but I was silence by the beauty of watching this paragon of masculine splendor strut toward me on legs as thick as my waist. With one powerful arm he knocked the book at of my hand. He put one meaty thigh beside me propping himself up on one knee. And then grabbed the couch with his opposite arm effectively imprisoning me in the span of his wide form. The big peaks of his pecs were only inches away from me and the protruding pouch of his skin tight boxer briefs dangled only inches above my own crouch. I looked up and our eyes met. His chiseled but soft Italian features looked down at me and I could feel his hot sexed up breath on my face, "You're eyes say no, no, but..." He took his free hand and grabbed my chest, placing his fingers along my side and running his thumb tantalizingly up and down my chest and shoulder. "You're dick says, Fuck yes."<br />
I may make very convincing show but I am not made out of stone.<br />
I put one hand on his back and the other on the flexing bicep that he was using to steady himself on the couch. He looked into my eyes and arched on of his thick dark eyebrows. He took his hand off my side and grabbed the hand I was using to stoke the dent in his lower back. He pushed my examining hand forcefully onto the swell of his bubble butt My dick leaped at the feel of the cotton veiled muscled ass. His hands ran mine up and down his own ass harshly; making it fell every inch of his fantastic ass.<br />
He leaned down, I arched up and in one moment that seemed forever our hungry lips met and his tongue entered my mouth on contact. His commanding broad jaw brushed against mine as his fat tongue caressed every inch of mine. His sensual Italian Lips seemed hell bent on taking in every inch of mine. It was like something that had been building in him had broken free and he had to devour me before the moment ended.<br />
"OH GROSS!" screamed into my ears.<br />
Gino tumbled off me as I stood up in shock. Across the room straining in front of the open door was Chrissy with her hands on her mouth stunned.<br />
She had walked in and saw Gino in only underwear and socks making out with me as we both ran our hands over his glorious butt. To say we were caught red-handed wouldn't do it justice.<br />
Brian came running in n legs built to speed down the countless yards of a football field, "What's wrong?" He saw me standing, clumsily regaining my bearings and resituating my glasses and Gino lying on the floor in nothing but his jockey shorts and a smile, on his elbows and spread eagle.<br />
"I came in here and these two were going at it like dogs, they're perverts." She wined.<br />
That put me back in control real quick, "watch it Barbie." I snapped.<br />
Brian looked as stunned as his date but Gino's rock hard cock tenting his underwear a good8 inches high was enough proof to sustain her claim. "No you watch it faggot." He yelled.<br />
I sat back down tiredly, I shook my head "This is not going to go well," I sighed.<br />
"Look Brian just take your date and go, alright?" Gino said.<br />
"No it's not alright! What the fuck has gotten into you lately. Between you and Red I don't even think I know you two anymore. Nothing has been "alright" man, ever since this asshole showed up." I still had my head in my hand when Brian's abrasive grasp yanked me out of the chair.<br />
"What the fu-..." I yelled startled.<br />
"What the hell is your deal anyway? Comin up here making all kinds of trouble," He was raging and I was so surprised at the suddenness of his outburst I just stared at him. After a second however I was reaching back ready to cold cock the asshole. But before I could ever land a punch. Gino was there. My knight in shining boxer Briefs. He pushed Brian to the side and stood between us like a referee.<br />
"I said go!" HE roared.<br />
"Fine if you fairy's want to play it this way I'm gone. And that means I'm getting my stuff and getting the hell outa here too. I got's some friends over at the Frat house who'll put me up." HE snapped. Then he turned to his date, "C'mon Chrissy...move." And they were gone again.<br />
Gino and I were both silent for awhile and then he looked at me worriedly, "what are you thinking about?"<br />
"I was just wondering," I answered pondering aloud. "So you think Brian would make a better Hairdresser or a make-up artist?"<br />
Gino looked at me angrily, "NO!"<br />
"What?"<br />
"I said leave Brian alone." He ordered.<br />
"Gino, what are you-"<br />
"Look Brian and I have been friends for a long time and I don't want you to do to him, what you did to those guys at the gym alright?" He explained. "Not that I'm not grateful for your help or anything."<br />
"But c'mon man, you should have heard him talking about his coach, and the way he treats his dates and then the ass had the nerve to get up in my face. He needs to be brought down a beg or too." I told him.<br />
"And you're just the person to do that I guess?"<br />
"You bet."<br />
The sensitive Mediterranean man put one hand on my forearm and looked at me anxiously, "look D, I'm worried about you. All this Magic bullshit it can't be good for you...What's that they say about a lot of power?"<br />
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely." I answered reflexively.<br />
"Yeah that's it. I think you should back off the Hocus- for awhile. "If you're going to do anything to Brian Just teach him some manners. That's all you gotta do."<br />
Why did everybody think I was turning into Rasputin here? I mean you completely alter the fabric of reality for a bunch of unsuspecting men and all of a sudden you're a megalomaniac, "If you feel that way, okay."<br />
"Honest?"<br />
"Just a couple manners."<br />
He let me go and sighed tiredly, "Good. I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning."<br />
Teach Brian Some Manners, huh?<br />
I know just the obedience school to send him too.<br />
<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"></div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">CHAPTER 2</h3><div>The next day at Practice Brian was running the ball wide when Coach Forman stopped the play. Blowing on his whistle like a freight train, he ran onto the field throwing his clipboard to the ground behind him. Forman was far from the old man Brian had painted him to be. He was a man in his late thirties with just the slightest signs of a receding hairline in his short-cropped brown crew cut. And like many men his age the extra years only made his craggy face look more handsome. The small running shorts he wore did little to conceal the peak shape he maintained. Years of playing ball had left him with a beefy physique that could still put fear into the heart of any 20-year-old on a defensive line. He was a big guy, what a lot of people would call hirsute. And it wasn't really a bright idea to piss him off.<br />
He bolted over to where Brian had stopped and took one massive paw and grabbed his star quarter back by his face guard. Forman lurched the younger man until they were face to face holding the plastic of the helmet so tight the veins on his forearm shot up like pythons. "What the hell was that."<br />
"I sized up the play and decided to run the ball out." Brian mumbled with just enough insolence to make things worse.<br />
"You decided?" The coach spat twisting his whiskered chin to form a deep frown. "You don't decide nothin! We're running passing plays!"<br />
Brian looked into the man's deep brown eyes hidden beneath the heavy brow and his thick eyebrows, "I saw an opening and took the spot, I didn't do anything wrong."<br />
Forman was in a rage. He pulled him even closer and growled in his deep voice. "I, I, I, You better learn to understand mister that there is no I in team, but let me tell you there is one in "Kick your ass" which is what I'm gonna do if you don't start shaping up. You better start treatin' me real sweet little girl or you'll be out on your ass." He punctuated the Macho threat with a smack to his helmet.<br />
"Whatever, you wouldn't even have a team if it weren't for me." he pulled out of the man's iron grip and picked up the ball.<br />
"I don't give a damn, I'll cut you too boy. Now listen up and do what you're told boy."<br />
Brian was about to sling an insult back when the strangest thing happened, he got a little sexual rush. A sudden burst of adrenaline from being turned on ran down his spine and right to his jock covered groin. "What'd you say?" he asked again.<br />
"You hear what I said boy."<br />
Now he was hard. Which was very uncomfortable under the restriction of his cup. In fact he was rock hard. He was really turned on and really worried. He wasn't gay. He had checked out other guys during showers but that was just basic comparison. For some reason the coach yelling at him was turning him on quicker then any of the Coeds on sorority row ever did. His sudden sexual impulses toward the big man made him extremely uncomfortable.<br />
Foreman grabbed his helmet again and pulled him close to give him another reaming out. This time his close proximity awaked Brian's senses. The deep masculine smell of sweat that he had never noticed before wafted of the coach's sweaty body and intoxicated him. The musk of Forman's body combined with the heat of his breath made Brian impossibly harder and he began to sweat not from the heat or exertion but from erotic stimulation. And for the first time Brian realized what a good looking man John Forman was with his ruggedly handsome older face and strong jaw, the powerful almost primal brow ridge on top of that thick neck, "Listen here punk you go out there and do the plays I call or you sit on the bench and do nothing." There was a pause as Brian just stared into those deep brown eyes "Are you even listening to me boy?"<br />
He fumbled to recover "Yes...whatever." Then he urgently pulled away and ran back to the huddle. Anything to get away from the other man. What was wrong with him? He did not like men. Ever. He wasn't queer. In the huddle he nervously looked around at the other players and was disgusted. He wasn't attracted to these pricks. The thought of one of these dudes touching him made him sick. It must have been a fluke like morning wood or something that's all. Butt for the rest of the day he obeyed the Coach and only ran the plays he called.<br />
The Coach was noticed how obedient Brian became after the incident; there was no more back talk or fighting. As a matter of fact Brian did exactly what he told him to do. Exactly.<br />
Brian himself couldn't understand his weird compulsion to suddenly behave and follow the coach's orders either. And he sure as hell didn't know why he all of a sudden felt this sick attraction to the bastard either.<br />
After a hellish practice where Forman took every advantage to exploit Brian's New found obedience by running him ragged. He and the rest of the team retired to the Locker room. All the other Team members who either lived in fear of his ego or was one of his sycophantic buddies came up to him and asked why he wasn't giving the Coach shit. Brian just shrugged and said he didn't care enough to get into another fight.<br />
But as all the guys crowded around him in curiosity as he tried to change He heard a bellowing voice echo over the heads of his fellow athletes. "Tell the QB to get his ass in here."<br />
Brian had to catch himself from rushing into the Coach's office when he was called. To think he was going to go running out of the locker room in just his jock and a towel. He staid himself and went back to getting ready to shower, "I mean NOW!" the voice yelled back. This time Brian couldn't help it he turned tail and ran to the office with his well formed lightly haired ass bouncing exposed behind him.<br />
"What?" he mumbled once in the doorway.<br />
The coach looked up and was obviously stunned from the look on his face. He hadn't expected Brian to come half-naked. "What's Wrong with you Brian?" he asked confused.<br />
"What are you talking about?" he answered with a look away embarrassed.<br />
Jon Forman looked at him with a look of disgust and a profound curiosity, "What is going on with you? Every other day you're spitting in my face, getting the guys all riled up against me and doing pretty much whatever your punk ass wants."<br />
Brian used the towel around his neck to cover his over exposed sweaty body, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under the bulky man's glare, "So?"<br />
"So what's the deal? Why are you changing your tune."<br />
"I don't know." He said shrugging his big shoulders forcing his traps to flex.<br />
"Well you had better tell me." Forman commanded.<br />
Brian heard the order and shot his head up shaking his mop of shaggy brown hair, 'Because you told me sir," he answered with knee jerk response time.<br />
"Huh," his superior looked even more confused then the arrogant football star felt. "And why did you come running in here without even getting dressed and leaving your ass hanging out?"<br />
Brian's eyes looked like he wanted to start cussing out the coach he completely didn't respect but his mouth only said, "Because you told me to."<br />
The dark blue eyes of Jon Forman remained skeptical but they glinted with an abrupt comprehension. "Brian, tell me you're sorry that you've been such a prick all season."<br />
Brian's mouth twisted around the words in a sneer and his eyes glowed with contempt but his voice was plaintive when he repeated verbatim the Coach's request, "Coach Forman I'm sorry I've been a prick all season."<br />
"Are you really sorry?" he asked darkly.<br />
"No," He spat.<br />
Forman decided to test his theory and took a leap, "Yes you are Brian."<br />
And then he was. Brian was very sorry he hadn't shown his Coach, his appointed leader the respect he deserved. He stood before the man he so often disregarded as unimportant and useless and put his head down apologetically to stair at his feet like a chastised child. He had never felt this way. It was humbling to be embarrassed by his behavior, and Brian was never humbled.<br />
The coach smiled a scary smile that seemed filled with hidden prospect, "Now are you sorry?"<br />
"Yes," The cocky quarterback answered honestly his voice pleading unspoken forgiveness.<br />
"Yes what?" The man behind the desk asked.<br />
Brian understood the request for a term of respect. "Yes sir." He said as he looked up from his contemplation of the floor to beg forgiveness with his eyes.<br />
When Brian looked up the coach was sitting bare chest revealing his hulking torso and massive barrel chest. He was intensely enthralled. The sight of this half-naked bear of a man sent Brian's cock more rigid then any girl ever had. The coach sat in his chair with only the small pair of blue running shorts to conceal the muscled bulk of his huge hairy thighs. His broad arms rested on the back of his head forcing the huge planes of flesh and hair that shaped his pecs to jut out compactly. He had a hungry look in his mature brown eyes made all the more enticing and frightening by the shadow cast by his bushy eyebrows. "You don't seem sorry."<br />
"I really am," he answered awkwardly putting his hands in front of the obvious bulge he was now unexpectedly sporting. "Can I go now sir." His voice cracked and he visibly cringed.<br />
"You don't have to hide that boy." Forman shockingly said as he gestured toward Brian's unruly cock. "That's a good sized piece of meat. You should be proud." Almost instinctively Brian dropped his hands and followed the coach's suggestion.<br />
Forman's whole attitude had changed after realizing Brian's new bizarre pliant nature he became very authoritative and disturbingly sexual, making Brian uncomfortable. But still he couldn't control the impulses of his strange acting cock.<br />
"But that still doesn't make up for your bad attitude today." He leered at the young man, "In my day Boys like you would have got a good ass whoppin for that kind of behavior."<br />
Sweat trickled down the bow of Brian's ripped back and he twitched from how turned on he was. All thoughts of gay, straight, man, woman, were completely lost to him all he could think about was the throbbing in his cock.<br />
"Do you think that would be a good punishment, Brian?" Forman grabbed his own swelling crotch with both hands and massaged his balls threw the nylon fabric of his shorts "...an ass whopping? You do don't you. In fact you think that would be just fucking great don't you?"<br />
"Yes sir." He practically moaned his response.<br />
"Then get your pansy ass over here and bend the fuck over." His gruff voice commanded as he took control. In response he actually shuffled submissively toward his desk and gripped tightly to the far side exposing the white flesh of his meaty ass. The position was instinctual and forced his round ass in the air expectantly. He became to whimper in heated anticipation.<br />
He hadn't long to wait there was only a moment of hesitation before he put one wide hand in Brian's mass of dirty blonde hair and brought the other with all the crushing force of his brawny arm onto the soft rotund orbs of his Quarterback's ass. There was a loud thwack and he yelped loudly but quickly followed it with a moan of pleasure, which only encouraged the coach to slap the soft pliant ass again and again. Brian's balls shook forcefully under the pressure of each smack jarring his excruciatingly stiff cock against the desk. His whole muscled body shook under the power of the blows that this other man was raining down on his butt. Yet he felt no real pain only absolute sexual ecstasy he was whimpering and writhing under the weight of his dominator rocking his hips, licking his lips, actively rubbing his nipples against the hard grain of the desk beneath him. He had never been this uninhibited acting like a bitch in heat. He had no control over himself he just moved his body to the rhythm of his need. He ached with sexual energy.<br />
After what seemed like hours of abuse the coach paused, ceasing the hot sound of slapping flesh and whispered in his star player's ear, "Are you sorry now?"<br />
"Yes sir, oh yes sir."<br />
"Well then you deserve a reward boy." The younger man was visibly upset at the loss of contact and his large frame contorted in need. "And I'm going to give that big punk ass exactly what it fucking deserves he growled...</div></div></div><div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">Part 3</h3><div>Brian had completely lost control of his life. Last week he was the captain of the football team, dating a successful cheerleader, and up for the presidency of his frat. Now he was fantasizing about coach Forman as he rode through the seedier part of town in the cab of his pickup truck. His every thought seemed to revolve around the big hands and harsh voice of the older man. The domination at the hands of his superior opened up a whole new realm of sexual fantasies to him. He was constantly having thoughts of being tied up and forcefully fucked by the man he used to disregard contemptuously.<br />
Forman had told him to put on his practice clothes and meet him at his truck. Brian didn't even think to ask where the coach would take him. But as the truck pulled into a parking place in front of a store called "The Bit." A sleazy Porno shop he knew of because he had been here once with a couple of buddies, They had all got together to by dildo's to use on their girlfriend's.<br />
He was covered in sweat and walked gently due to the fact that his ass had almost been ripped raw from the harsh paddling that he had oddly gladly submitted to.<br />
It was with this bow legged anxious strut that he and Forman who all but led him by the nose entered the porn shop. Every time he slowed or hesitated the big man grabbed him by his belt and swatted his causing the taunt flesh smack loudly. And even though he wanted to hate the feeling he had to repress the urge to the thank him. The usual cocky bragging speech that Brian used as basic communication was no where to be found. In fact he hadn't said a word since the coach told him to get in the car. Every time he went to speak, to say he wanted to leave, to say he wanted the coach to stop slapping his ass, to say anything at all he was stopped by one look from Forman.<br />
He had always thought of himself as imposing but now he almost cowered behind the coach his hands were held tightly behind his back and his head was hanging down pushing his bangs into his eyes. His posture wasn't the awe inspiring broad shouldered lumber of the peerless athletic star, it was the shuffle of someone who knew their place and liked it.<br />
They passed a guy with a shaved head and what seemed a thousand piercings on their way to the back of the store. He gave Brian a knowing and lecherous grin. He flinched visibly when his gaze returned with brutal anger. How dare that pervert look at him like that? He wasn't some kind of freak. As soon as Forman let him go he was gonna come back and teach that queer a lesson.<br />
He turned quickly to catch up to the other man's powerful strides. He was led to a rack at the back of the store covered in a variety of leather garments. Brian had only a second to inspect and become weary of the hanging clothes before john grabbed him by the chin in vice like grip. The coach's other hand clutched his sore ass roughly. "You've disrespected that uniform boy." He tisked, "You don't deserve to wear it."<br />
The quarterback lowered his eyes in shame at the big man's displeasure. "I'm sorry."<br />
"I still don't believe you. I don't think you should be aloud to wear it until your honestly sorry boy. What do you think?"<br />
Brian was going to disagree loudly but for some reason he became even more intensely turned on at the prospect of helping in his humiliation "I think....you're right." He ended in a strangled whisper. And then with out even realizing what he was doing he added, "master." At the utterance of the word he became so hard he thought he would explode again right there.<br />
"Good. Now we're going to get you a new uniform to help teach you that lesson." And with that his new master began pulling things from the racks of the seedy back alley shop. After much consideration he settled on a few select items and turned to the store clerk who Brian had glared at early. "You got somewhere he can change?"<br />
The clerk looked confused for a second then shrugged and said, "they're some stalls in the back you can use."<br />
"Thanks buddy," Forman grabbed his boy and pushed him through the door the clerk had mentioned. Brian looked ominously at the leather pile in his hand, which caused him to smile cruelly before he ordered "strip!"<br />
Without a moments hesitation the once insolently independent man began to peel off the grimy practice uniform with the immediate response of someone conditioned to follow command. As he removed the tattered shirt and slid his practice pants to the floor releasing his painfully rigid dick, Brian thought of what a nice change it was to not have to fight everything his coach said. To instead of listening to his pride and letting rule his life, just giving into someone else's control. He stood stoically with an eager smile on his face when he finished. He was as almost as big as Forman and he was much bigger then half the men his age but now under this man's gaze he felt weak and inadequate. All the brawn and muscle he had earned with countless hours on the playing field meant nothing and he was helpless as a child under the disapproving eyes of the man he had willingly called master.<br />
Forman looked at Brian in a detached way, the way one would look at a piece of property you owned and were considering the value of. He didn't say a word as he grabbed the younger man's large arms and turned him around violently. He was forced to brace himself by placing his arms in front of him against the wall of the stall. The coach kicked his taunt calves apart spreading his legs wide causing the soreness in his ass to become a fiery pain. His big coarse paws roamed all over Brian's virile body inspecting every inch.<br />
He began to fasten a tight back thong around his waist. It hooked onto a studded leather belt. The belt was then buckled onto a tight leather harness that was looped over his shoulders. His hair was grabbed and his head yanked back so that a wide collar could be wound round his neck. The coach slid two large leather boots on his big feet and then laced them up meticulously. In all the time it took to redress him Brian had only moved inches.<br />
He was spun around so that he and his master could admire their handiwork in a nearby mirror.<br />
The proud College celebrity took one look at his ridiculously dressed Form and turned away quickly with a strangled gasp of repugnance. Brian was repulsed. HE looked like something out of one of his nightmares. One with a dungeon theme. His sun tanned hairy body seemed different. As if the restricting leather made him bigger by squeezing him to capacity. It was humiliating to be dressed like this side show and in that humiliation he was disgusted to find he was overjoyed. The large harness crisscrossed his bare chest in an X formation. It covered nothing. And it even had large silver hoops sewn into it that encircled his revealed nipples. The bands of leather that were pulled taunt across him were decorated with dangling hoops that shook when he moved and made him feel less like a man and more like some kind of animal dressed for show. The worst part was the flimsy covering for his cock was made to push his cock and balls forward to show them off and forced him to walk with his ass sticking out.<br />
"What seems to be the problem boy?"<br />
"I look like god damn freak!" He yelled reclaiming some of the superiority of his regular attitude.<br />
"No," a big hairy ham fisted hand ran down his spine, "You love this. You love the way the Leather feels and how it makes you look, and you're grateful I showed you."<br />
Brian stared at his degraded appearance in the seedy mirror of the back room of the porn shop. Brian was a proud cock of the walk strutting football star; the man in the mirror was very different. The man in the mirror looked exactly like Brian. He had Brian's short cropped ear length blonde-brown hair. Brian's thick frat boy, college boy muscled body. He Had Brian's hairy chest. He had Brian's ruggedly handsome face with its strong chin, and dominating eyes. But the way the man in the mirror stood, with his head tucked between the broad football shoulders, his feet shifting and his eyes looking like a docile puppy made it clear that he didn't look like Brian should.<br />
Not to mention the fact that he was wrapped head to toe in skimpy leather and adorned in steel.<br />
But it wasn't bad. It was hot. The tight leather brushing against his skin was insanely thrilling. He never knew Leather could feel this damn good. The way it felt like a second skin tucked on top of him. It was almost animalistic. He didn't feel emasculated by the weird outfit now he felt like it gave him more prowesses. Even more of the hot man he was. The way his chest was bound with Leather straps, the tight bicep band, the restricting Collar straining around his thick neck they were all incredibly sexy. The pronounced way his ass moved and the flagrant way his cock protruded in front of him made Brian feel like that was what he had been reduced to: Just sex. That's all he was now. A glorified tool for the Coach's pleasure.<br />
The thought made his erect dick leak pre-cum like a faucet.<br />
He tried to focus his thoughts and muster his energy to fight back against these foreign urges that beat through his body like war drums. But he found suddenly that his appearance turned him on. The wide Collar must of all. It confined the range of motion of his neck because it was so big. The coach saw him admiring it and ran his hands through Brian's hair "There's a good boy." And then as a reward he took a long chain from the wall and attached it to the collar giving the college boy a good-sized leash that he could be lead around on. He was a dog. An animal to fulfill his masters need. And that thought made him happier then any other in his entire life.<br />
"Well I'm afraid we're going to have to start training you boy. So your good and ready for me." Forman said hotly. "First we're going to have to get the hungry little ass of yours used to a big dick inside of it." He reached behind him and pulled out a butt plug and cock ring. He easily moved the flimsy material of the thong. He took the long erect cock in his hands rocketing Brian into sexual euphoria "This'll make sure your always good and hard for me," and then he took two large fingers and shoved them angrily into the man's virgin hole. It caused the poor boy to yelp and squirm. "And this is so your cunt is always nice and ready for me." The large Butt plug jarred Brian with its girth and slid it into his ass, which was completely unaccustomed to the treatment it was receiving.<br />
The degradation was becoming too much for Brian's poor battered psyche and the pain and discomfort of the thing in his ass was the last straw. Tears of shame began to trickle down his dirty cheek unbidden.<br />
He felt the coach's strong thumb brush against his dirty cheek to brush away the tear that was leaking out of his once stone eye. "It's all right sweetheart." He said comfortingly and then he darted his arm out suddenly and grabbed Brian by his leather clad balls with such force that it made Brian yelp in a high soprano, "But if you don't stop crying I'll give you something to cry about." He growled applying force to the tender flesh forcing the quarterback's huge from to quiver in pain and fear. Brian made one move to resist.<br />
"Yes sir," he said meekly.<br />
"Now boy I want you to show me how much you appreciate my helping you apologize." Forman removed his own sweaty shirt revealing the broad expanse of his colossal chest. He was damp with sweat and as the shirt fell to the floor Brian was washed in the deep musk of a man's sent. The pungent aroma of the coaches sweat and the masculine aroma of his heavy body. As he stretched the sweatshirt off above his head, his cumbersome arms lifted into the air revealing the dark patched of dense hair under his suntanned shoulders. "Come here."<br />
Brian immediately shuffled toward the man he had once openly mocked. Walking was still very uncomfortable due to the cock ring and of course the butt plug that sat awkwardly in his recently deflowered ass. The pain and discomfort made him walk delicately like leather bound little ballerina. He stopped directly in the in coaches stony gaze. Both men were roughly the same height but now it seemed to Brian that the coach was so much taller then him, so much bigger, so much more imposing then he had once been.<br />
One big paw came to rest on his exposed shoulder and began needing the hard flesh, "Now Boy, stick out your tongue." He complied. The other paw grabbed a hold of the released organ of speech harshly, "You used this to mouth of to me all season, now I want you to use it productively. I was in such a rush to get you the discipline you need I didn't have time to shower. Give me one now." He released the tongue clenched in his fist.<br />
Brian's eyes got big with confusion and apprehension, "But how am I supposed to..." The paw on his shoulder grabbed his hair and forced his face down into the cleft of the coaches mammoth tits.<br />
"Lick!"<br />
His tongue was running along the grimy skin of the older man before he had time to process the thought. He swathed his mouth along the edge of the jutting pec flesh wiping down the coarse skin with ever stroke. The coach tasted of salty perspiration. The sweat from another man's dirty body was running down his throat, Brian's mind seemed to detach and look at the situation as an outsider. He realized that he was worshipfully licking a man's gruff form but he had never even been this devoted or unselfish even when he was with a beautiful woman. What was going on with him?<br />
The coach's hand took control again and pushed Brian's probing tongue up into his armpit. His nose was brushing against wiry dark hair and his lips were wet with ample moisture. The coaches strangely body odor clouded his mind. He started gagging. He felt like he was going to throw up.<br />
"Stop being a pussy you know you love this." Forman told him.<br />
And suddenly it seemed true. The coach was right. His tongue bath became more intense and exuberant. He was wildly trying to suck up every inch of the coach's hairy body. Roaming his slack and dry tongue all over him like a wild animal. Why hadn't he ever realized this before? He had once thought he loved the fragrant smell of a soft woman but that was so wrong. He wanted to smell and taste a man. To adore the tough body of another man. Why hadn't he ever taken advantage of being on a football team by sniffing the musky used equipment or bring a discarded jock up to his nose and jerkoff to the overpowering stench of another man's crotch? He had missed so many opportunities. He could have been enjoying the perfume of dirty uniforms instead he was busy eating out sorority girls. What had he been thinking?<br />
Forman grinned at his slave's new fervor for bathing him. The boys savage manner was making his cock leak precum. The tongue ran savagely across the underside of his arms all through his pits, into the crevice of pecs, across the expanse of his back, along the edges of his half-Ab-half beer gut stomach until it lingered on one of his nipple's. First the quarterback sucked and then he gently nipped. He stimulated the other mans nipple the way he had learned while trying to please the hundreds of woman he had bedded over the years. The entire mouth massage was the single most erotic experience that Forman had ever had. The only sound in the dressing room was Brian's adamantly lapping tongue.<br />
"All right that's a good boy," He cooed. "Now Clean off my tool." He began unbuttoning his jeans.<br />
Brian balked. He wasn't going to suck another man's Dick no matter what the coach said. That was going too far. He didn't even consider the fact that back in the locker room he had let the other man brutally fuck him. In his tangled confused psyche he was still the straight quarterback, it's just there were other incidentals now. He hadn't let the coach spank him because he enjoyed it. He had to bend over and get beat because he was disobedient. Which was the reason he was now wearing all this queer as leather bullshit. And just because he was an utter slave to the sensuous smell of man funk and the taste of another guy's ruddy skin that didn't make him gay.<br />
"What's wrong boy?" Forman said noticing his protégé's reticence at giving him the deep face fucking he deserved.<br />
"I don't like to suck dick sir." His voice was that of an apologetic child.<br />
"What?" Forman said angrily. "Yes you do, you can't wait to get your big ole man lips around my rod. The reason you've been giving me so much shit is because you've been anxious to get your mouth around my heavy balls since you saw me showering with the team after practices. You've been hungry for this cock since day 1." He held his phallus flagrantly in front of him like a cudgel. Gripping it as a visual aid.<br />
And again after the coach told him so, it became true In his mind. The hugely erect cock in the other man's hand that had once repulsed him now was what he wanted most on the planet. He looked at the cut marble perfection of every vein and was in lust. His memories began to change perspective. Innocent memories of casually glancing at the coach soaping down his meaty body next to him in the open showers of the locker room changed to hot sexual interludes of Brian tugging on his own lather covered dick to thoughts of taking one of the coaches heavy balls in his mouth. Strange that he didn't remember envying and being enthralled by the older man's dick until now. But he was definitely fucking enthralled now. His legs buckled out from under him and he was on his knees and face first into the groin of his coach before Forman had finished the word "one."<br />
He was ravenous, an insatiable animal, whose only thoughts were to have the dick. To passes it inside his mouth. To show the big man how much he appreciated the majesty of his cock.<br />
"Go to it boy."<br />
And he did Brian began by controlling his desperate need to smother the Dick with his lips and gently lapping at the base of dick and sliding his tongue against the sensitive skin of his hefty sac. He flicked his tongue around the hairy spheres flirtatiously while running his fist up and down the shaft. He employed every tactic that years of having his own dick sucked by experienced and eager young woman had vicariously taught him. He was having his dick sucked by adoring female sports fans since age 13 so his body knowledge was impressive. His hand moved to the flesh hidden behind the coaches encroaching forest of pubic hair and rubbed it slowly while brushing his pursed and wetted lips along the mushroom head of the beautiful cock. He continued kissing the head around the piss slit catching the entire head in the ridiculously puckered soft tissue of hid inner lip. He learned that from a girl sophomore year of high school after a homecoming game.<br />
After teasing the head of the cock he returned to making love to the coaches balls with his mouth. He ever so gently enclosed one fat fleshy pouch in the sensitive caress of his hot mouth and then began to slide his finger down the separation and down along the ridge of skin between the coach's legs. He felt Forman's granite thighs twitch and knew he was doing a good job. He learned that little trick from a cheerleader during senior week, who was a little trick in her own right. After swallowing the other ball like the first, he could no longer stave off his fulfillment.<br />
With both big hands braced against the brick wall of the coaches hips Brian lurched forward with the same sped he would have broken through a defensive line and swallowed the penis all the way to the hilt. Forman almost lost his balance. There was nothing like having you whole dick deep throated on the first lunge, his date for the senior prom taught him that. He gauged himself on the long dick and as his nose hit skin and pubic hair the cock slapped against the membrane of his throat. He had the sudden fear that he might gag and ruin the greatest moment of his sexual life, but he took the immense girth of the pole with consummate ease.<br />
He then settled into the steady lip and tongue stroking of the pole that every girl who had ever had the honor to suck on his stick had shown him. He was sliding his face up and down on the dick like it was a horizontal lollipop for what seemed hours, fucking fantastic hours. He didn't want to give up his relentless slurping but his jaw began to ache from being stretched for so long. Then realizing Forman was probably close to giving up his seed Brian pulled out his favorite procedure. He leaned in impossibly far on a thrust and caught the head of the cock in the gullet of his throat and began to massage the head with the soft wet membrane. A girl had done that to him at a frat party once and He remembered it was like having your dick in a pussy and a throat at the same time. He longed to give Forman that, his magnificent cock deserved it.<br />
He brought his head back and returned to sucking the spit dripping cock. Saliva slid off the length of the cock and down over Brian's chin onto the fur of his chest, onto the floor, everywhere. Brian's face was slick with the lube from his intent cocksucking. During all this Forman had been letting Brian doing all the work, keeping his hands on his tense ass or finger his nipple but that last throat fuck drove him beyond control and he put both hands on the back of his quarterbacks head and began ramming his hips into the man's face and ferociously bobbing his head up and down on the length of his fiercely hard dick.<br />
Until that Brian had not even looked up into the coach's face because he was so mesmerized being able to suck at the cock he obviously was so craving. Now as his face was being speared without any effort of his own, he awkwardly shifted his gaze upward to see the strained look of pleasure that tightened his master's face. Forman's lip was curled and his eyes were closed and his big guns were heedlessly shoving his head into his groin over and over again rapidly. So this was what it was like to be face fucked? He had himself done it to many women, been so turned out that you abandoned all pretense and began primaly fucking away in their mouth. He never realized how lucky they all had been.<br />
The revere of having his mouth be used was broken however when he felt the shaft jerk in his mouth and knew that the man was soon going to cum. He moved to pull away, but Forman was prepared for this eventuality, before his lips even left the head he was grunting above him, "No baby this is what you want. This is your reward. You want my cum in your mouth. You covet my juice. It's the ultimate baby..." and then Brian was again convinced the man was right and he was ardently waiting for the pearly white fluid to snake down his throat. There was another flinch and the cock began spurting like an unsheathed firehouse. Jizz splattered onto the back of his throat and began pumping so hard and fast that he was trying frantically to get it all. He never tasted cum before. He had thought it would be disgusting. It was wonderful! It was so sensual, the ultimate expression of a man's sexuality and he was desperate to take it all. But he had brought Forman so far that He was pumping out cum like a sailor on leave and his mouth overflowed before he could swallow it all and cords of spilling cum landed on his furry chest and even on the floor. Here was the star quarterback of the college football team on his knees in a ratty downtown porn shop, dressed in a queer dominatrix outfit with his mouth leaking cum like a 10-cent whore. If he wasn't that quarterback he might have laughed.<br />
When Forman's cock was finally spent and laid sensually flaccid against Brian's whiskered cheek. Brian instinctively made his move to retrieve the lost cum from the dirty floor of the dressing room. He leaned over shoving his ass out and displaying the lewd butt-plug from underneath the fabric of his little black Speedo. Without thinking he began licking the cum from the floor like a dog. Forman was at first shocked at the man's behavior but then thought it was only fitting.<br />
"You get it all boy?"<br />
"Yes Sir," Brian roared happily.<br />
"Good put these on I'm ready to leave." The coach threw a pair of little leather shorts at him with a wide tooth zipper in the front. He slid one thick leg threw it gracefully maintaining his balance and the second.<br />
"Sorry for the modesty boy but we can't get you arrested for indecent exposure ...yet." His master said stroking the hair behind his ear soothingly. The quarterback bent into the caress like a pliant puppy or an eager schoolgirl his face wide with a sexually incoherent grin.<br />
"Now get movin." There was a wide handed slap on his ass forcing his cheeks to vibrate and he jumped to attention scurrying out of the booth.<br />
As Forman went to the trashy fag behind the counter Brian realized how queer he must look it was one thing to have his master see him dressed up like this but not other people. He didn't want people think he was gay or anything. His apprehension must have been apparent because Forman caught him lingering behind the shadow of the racks while he paid. "Come here boy." Brian trotted unconfidently over to his master self consciously aware of how naked he seemed with only the straps and bare tatters of leather hiding his well built athletic form. With every step he could fell his hairy thighs rub together or the strain of the leather against his pecs.<br />
He came up beside the big man and stood with his head down until he caught the faggy clerk leering at him "What the fuck are you looking at bitch." He menaced.<br />
The pierced and shaved clerk with his handsome jaw and heavy lips was taken aback unprepared for the ferocity of the leather boys voice. "Sorry," he stammered.<br />
"No don't apologize!" Forman ordered. Then he grabbed Brains chain link leash and yanked his head up until they were nose to nose. "What the fuck was that" he yelled, spit and hot breath coating Brian's cheeks.<br />
"I don't want that pussy ass fag looking at me sir." Brian explained.<br />
The coach looked confused for a minute and then considered the reaction, "I see...Well you were impolite to... he looked to the weary clerk searching for a name.<br />
"Kyle." He offered still seeming timid from behind his myriad of facial piercings.<br />
Brian was upset that he had displeased his master, so he automatically mumbled unhappily "Sorry" to the man while fanaticizing in his head about how after his master left him go home he was going to come back and kick this bitch's ass.<br />
"That's not enough." The big man said with flat menace.<br />
"What sir?"<br />
"Show him how sorry you, get over there and suck his cock so he knows how sorry you really are you arrogant little shit."<br />
Kyle looked like he was completely confused and a little scared and Brian looked like a caged animal ready to bolt. He didn't want to touch this Homo's dick but he didn't want to disobey his master...his head was starting to hurt.<br />
"What's wrong with you?" Forman demanded when Brian didn't comply with his command.<br />
"Sir I don't want to touch this fairy's dick that's disgusting."<br />
"What are you talking about you just sucked me off like a true born cocksucker not three minutes ago." The Coach looked at him like he was crazy.<br />
The quarterback was humiliated that his master had said that he was a cocksucker in front of the clerk and reached up to his master's ear and whispered, "yeah but that's different you're my master. I don't like to suck dick sir, just yours." he pleaded.<br />
"Oh, I understand," Forman realized.<br />
"Thank you," Brian said with relief turning away, the coach wouldn't make him touch the fag trash.<br />
The leash was jerked again and Brian's head swung back around to meet the coach's intent and somewhat frightening face and hot breath. "You are a cocksucker Brian." It was a statement flat and to the point and Brian was going to protest but his mind seemed to cloud. "You love to suck dick. You want to worship and make love to men's cocks. You love the feel of a big tool in your mouth sliding in and out; it doesn't matter who it belongs to. And you're always grateful to whoever is nice enough to allow you to put your cocksucker lips on his big hot cock. It's not just my dick that makes your mouth water it's every man's, but you just want mine the most. You can't walk down the street with out checking out the crouch on every guy in a ten-mile radius. You are always scoping out the bulge in their jeans judging the size and weight of their hidden dick and balls. You can't meat another man without stealing a glance at the weight between his legs. That's how much you love to suck dick."<br />
Thoughts of dick flooded Brian's clouded mind, all the guys he had seen hanging loose in the showers from high school to college, all the men in tight Jeans walking the halls of school all the men in the frat bars whose laps he hardly noticed. And the coach's words become true he was lust hungry for a dick. Without much thought he compliantly crawled over to the stunned porn store clerk and unzipped him nonchalantly. Reaching into his boxer briefs as casually as if he was shaking his hand and coaxed out his quickly hardening dick. "Holy shit." the other man said.<br />
"You ain't seen nothing yet, just wait till he gets his tongue on you." Forman Chuckled.<br />
The clerk had a nice sized piece but his balls were hidden behind the tight confine of his briefs giving Brains hungry mouth a little disappointment. However that just gave him more time to focus his attention on the clerk's shaft. The guy, Kyle, had a really good dick with interesting features, it wasn't just his face pierced, there was big gauge barbell going through his cock head that gave Brian a whole set of more lewd ideas of how to make the clerk come like a volcano.<br />
The smell of the clerks sweaty crouch sent Brian's head rolling in ecstasy and he had only begun to bob up and down on the Rigid cock before he felt that familiar tightening in his throat and knew the clerk was going to come. Above him the stranger was moaning wildly turned on by all rational thought by having the submissive jock forced to suck him dry. Forman must have noticed that the guy was ready to blow to because he grabbed Brian's hair and pulled him off for a second. "You don't swallow on anyone but me boy. Remember that." Brian Nodded taking the new information into his mind as law and then returned to his ministrations on the Clerks sweat and spit soaked twitching dick. With both hands he gripped the shaft and began rapidly and savagely pumping the cock. His hands slicked up and down with sloppy sounds of saliva smacks. The clerk almost screamed as his metal speared dick began to erupt. Brian moved to turn his head to avoid being hit with the hot cum, but the coach pushed him back forward so the hot juice fell all over his chest and face. "I said don't swallow, that doesn't mean you can't take a shower." Drop after drop fell onto Brian's dirty face and hairy chest and he just whorishly threw his head back and forth like the slut in a porno enjoying the sexual spray.<br />
As the jizz hit his cheeks he could feel his own cock lurch in his leather cod piece and felt his own release stream across his tightly packed balls. He bucked and ran his hands across his cum covered chest making noises like a frenzied gorilla feeling so fucking hot because he was such a bitch for a hard cock.<br />
The clerk looked like he was so spent he was ready to pass out and Brian just quietly moaned as he ran his fingers over his tired body. The clerk was zipping up when the coach broke his tight gaze on how hot his new little leather boy and put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Listen here pal. I think you owe my boy here a little something after that little show."<br />
The guy looked at him dubiously. "Look man I ain't got no money...so."<br />
"Oh no," the Coach laughed a good-natured hardy laugh that was completely out of place after what he had just witnessed. "I'm talking about a service for service rendered."<br />
"I get cha" the guy said catching on, "What were you thinking?" he said smiling.<br />
"Nothing fancy just something simple." They were both inspecting A weary Brian like they were talking about remodeling a house. "I think hoops..." he grabbed Brian's fur covered big brown Nipple with a harsh tweak, "Two big fucking door knockers on each one of these tits."<br />
Brian's eyes got big as the clerk went for a needle, "I think we can do that."<br />
When Forman said he wanted doorknockers he wasn't lying. The hoops the viscous piercer inserted threw his tortured nipples were huge. They hung heavy off his chest and pulled the speared and sensitive nipple down stretching it under the weight. They were thick as all hell and as wide as a fucking beer can. The proud quarterback was mortified because in the middle of the first piercing he started screaming and crying, but the coach was right beside him holding his shoulder and patting his head. The coach was so good to him.<br />
"Alright that's enough for today let's get you home before someone thinks I kidnapped you." Forman announced after he saw the porn shop workers handiwork.<br />
"Yes sir," Brian answered a little dejectedly. He was upset that he was going to have be away from his Coach and master but glad he could get away from the weirdness of the day. He headed toward the back changing room to get his clothes.<br />
"Where are you going boy?" Forman asked curiously.<br />
"To go change back into my clothes sir."<br />
"What's wrong with the way you're dressed boy." He said impatiently.<br />
"Sir it's alright if you see me like this but if people on the street see me, they'll think..." he stuttered not trying to rise the coach's anger but desperate not to be forced into public like this,<br />
"They'll think WHAT?"<br />
"That I'm a fag." He answered.<br />
The clerk broke out laughing hysterically.<br />
Forman sighed impatiently and slumped his shoulders. "You're a fucking stickler for detail boy aren't you?"<br />
"What?"<br />
"Never mind," He grabbed his new protégé and forced him in front of the nearest mirror. Brian's skin tingled to have the gorgeous brawny man touch his muscular bare shoulder. An Idea formed in the older man's mind and his thick eyebrows came down mischievously, "Brian when you were in high school was there a kid you would beat on cause you thought he was gay?"<br />
Brian considered cocking his head to the side, which was hard, because his collar restricted a lot of his motion. "Yeah there was this queer named Cori. Me and the guys used to blaze him a lot." He chuckled.<br />
The coach smiled, "Why'd you think he was gay?"<br />
"Because he was always hanging out with the chicks...and plus he was a real fruit, he didn't play any sports. He was in the glee club and musicals. He was singing all the time acting all fruity." Brian offered.<br />
The coach's face hardened and he spoke directly into Brian's ear. "Listen up my little leather boy, You love to sing. It's your passion as much as Football. You want to be the best singer in the school as a matter of fact you want to be the best Alto in the county by spring term. You'll sing anything but you like old Operas the best. You understand."<br />
Brian's face looked repulsed for a second but then smoothed out benignly "Yes sir, I love to sing."<br />
"Well then boy we'll have to get you voice lessons." The coach offered.<br />
The young man clapped with glee, "That would be great sir!"<br />
At that moment the coach jerked him toward the mirror, "Now look at yourself Brian!"<br />
The All Star Quarterback to a long glance at himself in the mirror at the coach's command. He was a fantastic male specimen. He had always been a big guy but years of athletics had honed his body into a rock hard muscled machine. He was the poster boy for a gorgeous collage jock frat boy. But now that poster boy stood before him. In a pair of tight boots that laced up his bulging calves like something from World War II. Wear they stopped at the knee it was just exposed skin all for what seemed like miles. Showing every muscle and hair on his thick powerful thighs. His Cock and balls bulged obscenely beneath his almost nonexistent short leather shorts. The wide Zipper accentuated the length of his ever-hard cock ring encircled dick. The Shorts made his ass look huge. Like it was packed so tightly inside the leather that it rode high up on his body like a shelf beneath his back...and he could still feel the lewd but-plug filling his once virgin hole erotically.<br />
A thick studded belt encircled his waste and two wide straps just out from it restricting his chest like he was a prisoner of the Leather and pushing his tired body into a state of constant attention. The large hoops that hung off his leather bindings however could not compare to the huge circles dangling from his purple nipples wide and engorged with pain sticking straight out from his forest of short hair. And finally the collar that encircled his already thick necks and made him look like a slave with its leash dangling humiliatingly behind him. The way he was dressed was a thousand times worse then being naked but it was his master's pleasure not his that was important. "Yes sir?" he answered after he was done inspecting his trussed and hunky body.<br />
"Now Brian if you saw the man in the mirror what would you think?"<br />
"Well sir, I'd think he was a pervert."<br />
"Really? And what if I told you he loved to sing Opera."<br />
"Then Sir. "I'd say he was a queer too."<br />
"Well Boy," he spoke hotly into Brian's ear palming the boy's high bubble butt ass tensely, "What would you say if I told you the man in the mirror loves to suck dick more the a big tittied blonde from a Porno? That he loved to bobb up and down on one until his jaw ached and went slack and he drooled down his mouth from numbness?"<br />
"I'd say he was a fag sir." Brian answered sadly.<br />
"Exactly boy and that's what you are. But don't be sad. You're proud to be a fag. You're proud to be the hard body stud that you are. IT makes you happy when people stare at your impressive body on the street. It makes you hard to know other men get hard just looking at you. You boy are the proudest hottest queer in town."<br />
Brian Smiled realizing his master was right. He moved his hand up the side of his thigh onto his big bulky crouch and then up his Ab ripped chest tentatively tasting his sexuality with his fingertips. He was gay and the hottest piece of ass in three states. His master was so right.<br />
Before they left Forman bought himself a pair of Leather chaps and an arm band, he said it was for "When they went out to all the bars."<br />
The walk to the car was great Brian strutted like a slut from a B-movie letting everyone on the street get a good look at his leather clad legs and tanned marble thighs, making sure to shake his big propped up bubble butt built from countless grass drills. Some men looked disgusted some leered lustfully but Brian knew as he rubbed his big package with both hands and sat back onto the head off his buttplug that they all wanted to touch his hot body and that he would be glad to let them if they would let him suck their cocks. It was a fair trade. Just like him. Faire Trade.<br />
Once in the Cab of his Master's SUV the coach had a hand on his exposed thigh and was massaging his hard cock through the leather as Brian licked his big hairy forearm. "We're going to have to go back to your house and get your stuff boy."<br />
"Why master."<br />
"Because if you're going to live with me I can't buy you ALL your clothes."<br />
Brian laughed happily and leaned over unzipping his Master and Lover and giving his magnificent cock the attention it deserved. His collared head flew up and down over the dashboard and down between the Coach's sweaty musky thighs as they drove through town. Foreman's dick vibrated as his boy hummed tunelessly. Brian couldn't wait to learn his first aria.<br />
<br />
<div id="masthead"><strong>Chapter 4</strong><br />
<br />
</div><div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><div>"How do I look?" Gino asked me archly as he descended the staircase.<br />
"Like the illegitimate love child of tinkerbell and Captain hook." Gino was wearing a shiny disco ball shirt and a pair of white pants. His dark Italian skin was covered with sparkles.<br />
"Hey Screw you," he laughed.<br />
"You going to another club tonight?"<br />
He looked at me like I was a complete idiot; "No I get dressed like this to go over my taxes." His face was so serious when he said it that it cracked me up.<br />
"Who's your accountant Diana Ross?"<br />
"Oh shut-up bitch," He checked himself out in the mirror striking about a thousand poses. He was strikingly gorgeous. Dark Italian looks, platinum blonde hair, devastating fashion sense, all in all Gino had improved a thousand fold. "Damien why don't you come with me tonight? You never go out all you do is sit here and sneeze over your old books."<br />
He leaped over the couch and sat down heavily beside me. All the mass of his big muscled body was practical crushing me. "I have a lot of work to do yet."<br />
"Sure you do, C'mon you... me... and three hundred shirtless dudes dancing' to bad club mixes. Doesn't that sound like fun?"<br />
"Now that you mention it...NO." I disagreed and pried myself away from Gino's vice grip.<br />
The big lug pouted for a couple secs's making me feel like the grinch who stole casual sex but he quickly recovered. "Well I want to get out of here before Brian or Eric get home. They've been acting all weird lately."<br />
"I'm sure they think the same thing about you..." I laughed under my breath.<br />
It was then that Brian, dressed as a reject from mad max beyond thunder dome, entered the house with Forman close at his leather padded heels.<br />
Forman smiled at us pleasantly but Brian kept his head down making no contact.<br />
"Holy..." I started,<br />
"...Shit," Gino finished.<br />
And just when things couldn't get any weirder, down the stairs trudged Red wearing only a pair of tighty whites. His imposing burly frame dwarfed both Gino's large Gym muscle and Forman's bulky football weight. He lumbered uninterestedly through the shocked tableau of me and Gino gawking at Forman and his little Dominatrix in training. The man was so unobservant. He stalked on thunderously heavy feet into the kitchen like a sleepwalking bear.<br />
I turned to Gino in a completely casual tone and said, "Gino, did forget to pay the twilight zone repellant bill, this month?"<br />
Gino didn't miss a beat he just stared forward and said, "Shit I thought you were going to get it."<br />
"I take you guys didn't know Brian was gay?" Forman asked.<br />
"Or that he had been shopping at the Gap for Sadomasochists." I pointed out.<br />
Gino punched me in the arm and the hauled me off to a corner of the room to talk privately. "I thought you said you were just going to make him more easygoing and obedient towards his coach?!" He whispered animatedly as he continued to stare at the strange pair in our living room.<br />
"That's all I did!" I swore.<br />
"Then how the fuck did that happen."<br />
I ran my hand through my hair searching for sort of explanation. I really hadn't planned on any of this happening. I mean, yeah I thought Brian needed to be taught a lesson but not one that involved a torture wheel and a cat of nine tails. "Well I had intended for Brian to take everything his football coach said seriously and that he should follow his instructions to the letter.... And OH FUCK!" I said slapping the palm of my hand against my forehead, as I suddenly realized where the problem stemmed from.<br />
"What?" Gino asked<br />
"His coach! How was I supposed to know that his Coach was a closet case with a penchant for a little slap and tickle...with an emphasis on the slap?"<br />
"You had nothing to do with him making Brian his S/M lover?" Gino asked me in doubting tones.<br />
"Look if I had a heart I'd cross it and hope to die." I said trying to prove my innocence.<br />
"I'm sure Damien." He spat escalating the argument<br />
"It's not like he didn't deserve it he was using every girl on campus as a never ending supply of fuck toys, his arrogance on the field was loosing the games for his entire team, he was picking fights with you by making all those fag jokes and he was even beat up poor wimpy ass mark..." I rambled on as I tried unsuccessfully to assuage my feelings of guilt.<br />
"Look honey, I don't care how you try to justify this.... Wait a minute how did you know about Mark?" He asked in sudden suspicion<br />
My head shot up in swift concern, too swift, "What? Mark? Who said anything about Mark? Gino who is this Mark person, we're talking about the problem with Brian Right now and frankly I'm disappointed by your inability to stay on topic."<br />
"We threw mark out before you got here, and we've never talked about it with you. How would you know anything about that?" I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes.<br />
"Would you believe magic?" I said hopefully<br />
"Yeah like you saw it you crystal fucking ball?" He said flatly. You know when he was straight he wasn't this damn witty.<br />
"Oh you'll believe that I can turn those trouble makers at your gym into happy little gay gym rats and make Brian into the queer prisoner of Zenda but a crystal ball your having trouble with?"<br />
"Look D, you're doing a lot of back peddling here. I thought we were close friends...I hoped we could get closer...You can trust me. Just tell me what's going on okay?" He put one gorgeous olive skinned hand on my shoulder comfortingly and looked at me with heartbreakingly sincere eyes. My icicle heart was melting at his sweet gentle soul...<br />
...But let me tell you what was at the top of my list of things to NEVER fucking tell people.<br />
"Why don't we sort out this mess with Brian and then go get a drink to calm our nerves, I'll even go to that Meat market place if you want." I said trying to slip out of the question.<br />
He gave me a long look of skepticism, and then said "Alright..."<br />
Thank the gods he bought it now what to do about coach leather boots and...<br />
Ding-Dong!<br />
What now?<br />
I escaped from the confrontation with Gino as he went to answer the door.<br />
The only way this could get worse is if there's a busload of Jehovah's witnesses on the other side of that door.<br />
When Gino opened the door to reveal the visitor I realized how wrong I was. It could be much worse then that. Mark could be behind that door. And he was.<br />
"What are you doin here?" Gino demanded.<br />
Mark's lean form inched back, "I need to talk to you guys."<br />
The little twerp.<br />
"I thought we told you never to show your face around here again." Red growled idly readjusting the bulge in his underwear with one big hand distending the elastic around his massive paw vulgarly.<br />
Mark made an uncharacteristic move of boldness and brushed passed Gino to stand center stage in the center of the entire circus in the living room.<br />
Gino shut the door still leering at the unwelcome guest. I was coyly inching into the shadows under the staircase.<br />
"Yeah you did but don't you guys remember why you did?" Mark was going for the Meryl Streep award.<br />
From my somewhat outside space I could see a very dim light start to flicker behind Brian's eyes. "Wait a minute..."<br />
Gino looked around confused, "We kicked you out because...because..." I could see the bewilderment in his trusting big eyes. And to my surprise I felt real bad about it.<br />
"Gino look at yourself! I mean you guys were dicks but I don't think..."<br />
"What the fuck do you want anyway kid." Red grumbled, he had obviously already lost interest.<br />
"I want to...hey who are you anyway?" Mark asked obviously not recognizing crass crude lumberjack that Eric had become.<br />
"Red," he said and punctuated the introduction by spitting into the nearest potted plant.<br />
Mark studied him carefully "Eric?" he asked uncertainly, "Jesus what did Damien do to you?"<br />
"What?" Brian Barked.<br />
"What are you talking about?" Gino said suspiciously his hands raking threw his hair nervously.<br />
"Damien He's been screwing with your heads and you lives. He's dangerous he's into all this voodoo magic stuff. He..."<br />
"Wait a minute!" For the first time since he and Forman arrived he asserted his old dominant aggressive voice. "I remember now we threw you out on your ass cause you were a pansy ass faggot."<br />
"Watch how you're talking boy," Forman commanded giving the leash around Brian's bulging neck a tug.<br />
"Shut the fuck up you prick," Brian roared and yanked the chain out of the big man's hand.<br />
Gino's voice was unsure and he looked ready to cry or start swinging, "But...But why would we do that...we're all gay...aren't we?"<br />
"I ain't no damn fairy." Brian said posturing, "What the...How the fuck did I get dressed like this?" He yelled noticing his S&M attire. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded in typical Brian regal fashion. He picked at the leather straps encircling his chest like poison.<br />
Red's usual look of incomprehension seemed to intensify "Are you saying we used to be straight guys?"<br />
"Not just that." The little Judas answered, "you used to weigh like a hundred pounds less and you were all cleanliness is next to godliness. I mean Eric you were an executive."<br />
"I was a..." The light I saw flick on in Eric's eyes went on in Red's. HE turned quickly to look at his underwear clad behemoth body covered in thick body hair and exaggerated labor muscle. He put too massive hand on his grotesquely huge thigh astounded at it's mass. "Oh my god...What's happened to me!" he asked in horror. His long Billy Ray Cyrus hair fell around his face as his towering form bent over, causing him to panic even more.<br />
Visions of being burned at the stake began to run through my head. I wonder if they'd do that? Take me into the town square... Maybe they'd just stone me?<br />
"No this can't be happening," Gino's voice seemed to plead. "Damien wouldn't do that, we're friends...I mean him and me we're boys You."<br />
"No your not he did this to you guys." Mark was casting himself as the hero of the piece, and it's not that I minded being the villain but I sure, as hell wasn't thrilled about being made to look like a fool.<br />
The Italian stud looked at himself in the mirror his luscious shaved olive skin bulging under his sequined shirt and his fleshy pillars of thighs practically spilling out his skimpy shorts. " Yo Did I always dress like dis?" His voice was fluctuating from his current regular sweet speech to his old thuggish bully street talk. He was actually trying to stop the spell from breaking. "Did I always dress like some fag ass bitch..."<br />
I was not going to let them throw me into the river and see if I float that's for damn sure.<br />
Anyone paying close attention to me would have noticed that the shadows of the darkened corner were starting to almost come alive around me shielding me except for my eyes.<br />
Brian was still occupied by being revolted at the way he was trussed up, Gino seemed to be contemplating the reality of his own personality, his new attitude at war with the old one and Poor Red just kept touching his huge body in horror and disbelief. I was going to have to do something. I hate being forced into things.<br />
The immediacy of my actions was stepped up when Brian snapped out of it and came rushing at me like a bull in the streets of Spain "what the fuck did you do to us?" He screamed. One very powerful arm was in mid swing when I reached my hands up calmly and he stopped frozen. His clenched fist paused just in front of my nose. All the others also found themselves in various states of frozen time. All of them except Mark of course.<br />
The minute I saw Mark at the door I knew that trouble was on the way so I slinked into my nice unnoticeable spot and began to weave an incantation. My hands were lacing in foreign patterns behind my back the whole time. "Are you quite finished?" I thundered at Mark.<br />
The little weasel fell backwards onto the floorboards, "Holy Shit!" he whispered in start raving fear.<br />
"Oh no quite unholy." I was on autopilot my fury boiled so deep that I could feel the cold rage take over, my head was crouched between my shoulders like a stalking animal as I advanced on the idiot on the floor.<br />
"I warned you."<br />
"What's going on...What are you doing..."<br />
I slid past Red in my advance and ran my fingertips across the tantalizing broad expanse of his muscular back in a deceptively playful way, "The funny thing about magic Marky boy is that the more you use the better you get. It gets to the point where you can pretty much do anything on your own."<br />
Mark's Eyes were wild "What...What..are you going to do." I realized in a detached way that the tips of my shoes were scraping across the floor, I was floating toward Mark. I had kicked up the juice full force. I could really feel it.<br />
" Do you know what you almost did?" My voice didn't sound like mine, it was deeper darker, a lot more threatening. "These guys weren't my toys you ass, They were actually happy. Eric with his ruthless ambition would never have found a relationship as happy as the one he has with his boyfriend hank. Brian with a little discipline and some well earned humiliation is well on his way to becoming a person...and Gino," I looked at the conflicted face of my beautiful Italian friend thoughtfully, " Gino's not the thug bully he was he's sensitive and sweet and smart and he..." I broke myself off, "The point is Mark What I did was more help then hurt."<br />
"Alright, whatever you say man," The jerk was actually trying to placate me so as to aid in his escape. He was skidding across the floor backward on his hands and knees to avoid me. "I'm just going to get out of here then..."<br />
"Think again." With one swing of my left fist invisible hands grabbed mark and dragged him into the air.<br />
I had never personally witnessed my handiwork. I always cast it and waited. This was the first time I had taken things into my own hands. It was terribly scary and the most powerful drug I'd ever had, "Damien please I'm sorry, Please..." Mark whined as tears of panic slid down his pale face.<br />
"Dammit Mark Stop being a little bitch, If you had a fucking inch of courage in the first place we wouldn't be in this mess." I snapped, "You could have handled these guys on your own and I would be back in my nice happy isolated apartment. You need to grow a damn back bone you wuss." When the words were out of my mouth I felt a rush and a plan formed very quickly.<br />
"It's not my fault..I..I" my friend and betrayer stammered uncontrollably while he hung in front of me motionless.<br />
"Your right Mark, It was your deep sense of righteousness, and of coarse the over dramatic," My feet landed on firm terra firma with a thud. I paced around Mark's suspended form in cat like consideration, "And you shouldn't be punished for that, you should be rewarded."<br />
"Don't do it Damien, please...please..." And he was still crying. I was very irritated.<br />
"I'm going to give you the perfect outlet for your need to protect and serve others, and then I'm going to personally grow you that back bone, Sound fair..."<br />
"Damien I," He sniveled louder,<br />
"You talk to much Mark." His mouth kept working but no sound came out. "Now no offense Mark buddy but I'm going to have build you from the ground up. Let's see what kind of clay I've got to work with here." My hands spread wide and Mark's Dockers and polo shirt disappeared simultaneously. He now hung pale and shaky I his boxer briefs. He wasn't an unattractive guy, just non-descript. He had an average body, no muscle, but no fat and at 5'7 he had a bookish charm with his shaggy hair and glasses. But that just wouldn't do for what I had planned.<br />
"You always told me you wanted to be taller right?" his eyes grew wide with terror, "Well consider it done. To tell you what happened next wasn't surreal would be a lie a big fucking lie. Mark's scrawny body seemed to stretch and warp, with the naturalness of someone really growing taller like he hit a growth spurt but it took him 6 inches in 5 seconds instead of two over years. Mark now stood before me a towering 6'4 instead of his diminutive 5'6. The added height made him dreadfully lanky like Ichabod crane.<br />
"There you go, but I can't leave you like that can I? All skin and bones..." Another hand sweep across my line of vision and Mark began to change in a most interesting way. His skinny frame began to expand with muscle and tendon.<br />
My dick began to expand too. This was hot as all hell.<br />
"I've always loved a man with soccer leg's don't you mark?" His calves flexed to well formed perfection and slid into well-trimmed thighs that were poetry in their impeccable thick and lithe shape. The muscle tightened around his abdomen and groin until it was the beautiful cut grace of stone-etched curves.<br />
"And an ass, Mark, you need an ass you could eat breakfast off of." The fabric of his Underwear stretched under the formation of his glutes as they shaped themselves into the most impressive ass I had ever laid eyes on. Masculine prowess and perfection. Tight and round and so high and proud it almost had an arrogant pride. This was the ass that young gay men salivated over in their wet dreams.<br />
"Now Marky boy, we don't want you too bulky, You're going to need to be quick and athletic in your new line of work." I told him as I cupped my well-formed handiwork. God the feel of that magnificent ass almost made me cum in my jeans. "So How bout big broad shoulders and tight pecs. Big and square and flat. And we'll keep that little waist of yours okay?<br />
There was another shift and Mark's upper body contorted until it was a very defined V. The shape of his torso was so exquisite it seemed impossible. His slim waist expanded into the broad expanse of a tight chest and wide shoulders.<br />
"One more thing, you need strong arms. Nice carved biceps." And of course there they were after I had said it. His Arms hung heavy against the air. His shoulders jutted out at such a strong angle against his slim form that this muscular round biceps dangled against the air instead of brushing against his side.<br />
"Beat that Bailey's."<br />
I inspected Mark's ultimate body. A body that could have only been achieved with optimum Genes and rigorous workouts. This body was so fine it made your eyes ache just to look at it. Mark whose face seemed to contort with stress look at himself in awe. "Cat got your tongue?" I asked releasing his invisible gag.<br />
"Oh my god look at me." He squealed as I set him on the floor. He stared at his reflection with the same posture he always had. Unconfident and shy Mark slouched in the body of the Grecian God I had gave him. Still looking to the entire world like the weak loser he was under all that muscle and beauty.<br />
"Well that's going to ruin the whole affect." I noted. "You're not going to be able to intimidate civilians with that whiny little voice."<br />
"What are you talking about you..." he trailed off in a fit.<br />
"You wanted to play the hero. That's' fine by me. You can protect and serve like everybody else. Behind a Uniform and a badge." I considered. "But that voice and that baby face...isn't going to get you a lot of respect." The sweet round face of unassuming Mark blurred a little becoming more angular, craggy. Weatherworn not from age but from life. A very handsome harsh masculine face appeared from behind the wire rim glasses. AS an after thought the glasses changed from transparent prescription lenses to reflective mirror sunglasses.<br />
"This is fucking insane you's got to stop this..." His high pitched wine deepened as he ranted into a deep resonate commanding tone. A rich sound that rumbled out of his chest with force. It sounded like a voice not accustomed to be questioned. Mark's harder face twisted in confusion at the new sound erupting from his mouth.<br />
"Hey buddy how bout just for kicks I make ya southern?" I asked.<br />
"Ya'll can't do tha." He drawled in a thick Tennessee bass, "I reckon, Tha's nah e'ven possible." His eyes went wild at the sound of his country western twang.<br />
"You'd be surprised at what's possible and what's not."<br />
"See here now boy, Ya got's ta ch-ah-aynge mah back." He pleaded.<br />
"Nope." I finished my masterpiece with a few minor details. Giving him a tight trimmed Goatee' and a military haircut you could set your watch by. Altogether he looked, and sounded like the butch cop from every gay man's fantasy. Now to make sure he acted the part.<br />
I ran my inspecting hands over the long stretch of Mark's tight legs from behind him, "Tell me Mark what's your Ideal man."<br />
There's was a far too boyish wistful Grin on the hard face "Ah want ah man who'll bring me roses and who'll always be there ta support me..."<br />
You've got to be kidding me. I was doing Mark a big favor. "No you don't You want a hard as nail's aggressive bear of man just like you."<br />
He looked at me, "like me?"<br />
"Yes. Now you see here Mark. You are now officially Officer Mark Smith. You don't take shit from anyone. You are one hard ass cop. You like to fight in Bars, you love a good brawl and you're just about three evolutionary steps away from a Gorilla. You have the mentality of the terminator. You in short have the brass balls and backbone you never had before." You could see the changes on Mark's face as his soft expression shifted to that of one of suspicious consideration and a cocky confidence that wasn't there before. "And you know Mark I think the reason you were so unhappy before was all the over thinking you did. You over thought every second of your life. I think you need something better to worry about. Let something else do the thinking for you." Mark with his almost sneer look at me confused and then suddenly put one vein dissected hand down onto the bulge in his shorts which was once a modest 6 inches and now began to snake into a rigid 9 and half, With the heavy brass balls I mentioned to match. His Briefs were now packed tight enough to cut off circulation as he ran his hand up and down the length of his cock. Officer Smith would be to worried about keeping his monster cock happy to worry about much other then it. Officer Smith would now understand the simple pleasures of servicing the needs of his sexual urges instead of his neurotic hang-ups.<br />
His Brains were in his dick now.<br />
"So you see Officer Smith, you're going to be able to protect and serve every man woman and child in the state." Mark now wore the tan and black uniform of a state bike cop. It was so fitted to his supple body that every cut of muscle could be made out in the folds of the fabric. The shirt was stretch so taut against his skin the nipples were as apparent as the buttons. The tight Black pants seemed design just to accentuate the massive bulge between the runner's legs. "And when I said Serve I meant it." I gave into my own lust while looking at my own private Adam; "You're going to be the most popular patrol men on the force. Whenever you pull a guy over and he seems pliable, you're going to get onto those boot-covered knees and blow him like there's no tomorrow. And use that Porn Star cock whenever you can. Got it?"<br />
"Yah Ah Gahtcha," he drawled as he lick the rim of his goatee' with his tongue and rubbed a gloved hand across his crouch. Where weak, neurotic, miserable, punching bag Mark Smith had been there was now a hunk Motorcycle Cop Named Officer Smith too concerned about keeping the peace and getting a piece to worry about shit.<br />
"Now in review," I said, "Who are you?<br />
" Offi'cah M-ah-rk Smi-ya-th. State Bike Cop." He smirked as he thumbed at the cleft between his thigh and the straining fabric of his crouch.<br />
"I thought you were Mark smith, college student and computer programmer."<br />
He titled his sunglasses down to look at me with intense and rude eyes, "fuh-ck Nah, Tha sounds like some pussy, with ah pussy ass job."<br />
"And where you born in Dayton Ohio?" Which was Mark's dull little hometown.<br />
"Nah ah grew up in Kentucky. Where a man learns how ta be ah man."<br />
"And officer Smith is your favorite thing to do, sit at home and watch Dawson's Creek?" I said mocking poor Marks pervious life.<br />
Officer smith crossed his cut arms in front of himself and gave me a savage angry glare "Are you tryin' tah make an ass of me man?" He stood with a cocky slouch that illustrated his insolent behavior.<br />
"No," I snapped quickly.<br />
"Good cause ah'll tell yah what mah favorite thang to do is. Ah like to get out on an empty stretch of highway," He moved like a stalking animal toward me strutting boldly. "And pull ovah a good lookin man in a minivan and then show him jus' how straight he ain't by suckin him dry and then bendin him ovah my bike and fuckin his Brain's out." He was right against me his tan uniform moving like liquid over his buff body.<br />
"Wow." I exhaled with very real excitement. I hadn't been this hard and this intimidated in... a long time. "That was vivid."<br />
The man I had completely disregarded as a human doormat and whiney loser, now stood two inches above me and put one large confident leather gloved hand on my ass and pressed me against him forcefully, "Now let me show ya how vivid I can be, bend the fuck over that couch bitch."<br />
That was incredibly fucking hot but taking it way too far.<br />
I pulled away from my latest masterpiece a little shaky, from sexual chemistry and a little out of intimidation.<br />
"Good', I'm glad you see things my way. Let's try this again." I took one last look at the disdainful form of Mark as he postured in front of me hips forward and leer enticing me. I quickly focused my concentration trying to set everyone else in the room back in motion while making them ignore the changes in officer smith. But as I released the spell I could feel it changing. It was twisting around all the other magics in the room. I was reverberating off the other spells that I had cast bouncing off Gino to red to Brian's and back again,<br />
You've heard of the term too many cooks in the kitchen well this was like to many grease fires in the kitchen.<br />
All that force spiraled out of my control and took on a life of it's own. As Gino, Red, Eric and his coach stood motionless and Officer smith continued to leer at himself hungrily in the mirror I tried to regain control over the primal energies I had set loose. It was like trying to stop a flood with an umbrella.<br />
Why don't I ever stop while I'm ahead?<br />
There was a flash.<br />
"....So's ah Was hopin' Ya'll wouldn't be to mad tha ah came back to poach a roommate from ya'll." Officer smith said with a forward look on his handsome and stern face.<br />
"That's fine Mark, It's just I don't think any of us saw it coming." Gino Laughed from where he was sitting lazily on the couch.<br />
"Speak for yourself," Red Chuckled as he went back up the staircase uninterested, big legs and wide cotton covered ass pumping.<br />
"When Brian, here told Jon he wanted ta come stay wit us, we were jus' as surprised as ya'll" the young police man explained from behind the protective wall of his mirrored glasses.<br />
I was having problems registering what was going on a couple seconds ago I felt like Pandora with a very open box and now I was back sitting next to Gino on the couch. I stared over at the mass of glittering sequined Italian muscle, searching for some clue as to what was going on and he just shot a confused look at the cop, the coach and their leatherboy.<br />
Red had gone back up stairs so that left me with one less variable.<br />
I looked on at the new Mark. He stood tall and dark and drop dead studly gorgeous next to Brian's Burly Coach. Brian still dressed in his Leather boy gear was standing docile between them with his head down and a pleased grin on his face.<br />
What did I do?<br />
"What mark is trying to say," Forman explained in his authoritative voice, "Is that Brian' asked if he could stay with us for the rest of the semester. And even though Mark and I are damn happy together," He put one big paw and Mark's shoulder and rubbed the cop's neck affectionately, "We wouldn't mind having a houseboy."<br />
"Ah Hope ya'll Ain't to put out." Mark offered returning Forman's tender touch with a more flagrant pat on the older man's meaty thigh.<br />
"Wait a minute," I objected standing on shaky legs.<br />
"Don't you worry none Damien." Mark advised crossing his arms against his chest, stretching the fabric of his button down shirt to the point it looked like the seams were going to burst.<br />
Forman intervened "Yeah it's no problem. Brain can stay with us rent-free and he can have a hell of alota fun just raisin hell with us before he gets out of school and has to join the real world. Plus he's got his submissive little heart set on it don't you boy?"<br />
It was the first time the young stallion had been addressed he raised his collared neck and beamed with appreciation. "Fuck yeah man this is going to be wild." His leather shorts betrayed just how excited he was.<br />
Officer Smith smiled a canine smirk. He grabbed Brain by his hair and took a hold of his chin in the firm grip of his gloved hand. And roughly brought the college boy's face up to his own whiskered square jaw. "Ah can't wait to get you home and start breakin' you in."<br />
The athletic bully who had once beaten up defenseless weakling mark smith for being a gay weakling looked up into the Officer's eyes and said proudly, "Can't wait to be broken sir!" he almost said it like a challenge.<br />
Mark reached down and smashed his open mouth into Brian's kissing him violently. Brian grappled back eagerly. Officer Smith tugged happily on Brian's nipple ring as Brian tugged on the other.<br />
"That's not what I mean," I pointed out groggily, "Let me get this straight you and Coach Forman are living together." I asked Officer Smith in confusion.<br />
He pushed Brain away from him with the hand he had holding his chin and lowered his sunglasses with one leather coated hand, looking at me from underneath the sharp crest of his buzz cut, "Course we are Dah-mien. We've 'a been to'gether since ah met Jon at tha' Leather bar downtown two years ago." Then he pulled an unfiltered cigarette out of his pocket, inhaled deeply and blew it into Brian's open mouth.<br />
"...And now Brian want's to be your leather boy slash houseboy?"<br />
"Do I ever!" Brian exclaimed stunned that I even had to ask.<br />
And that ladies and gentlemen was all's I could take and I couldn't take no more<br />
I fainted dead away.</div><div class="mindthegap">I woke up in the comfort of my bed with a pounding headache. "Looks like someone had decided to return to the land of the living." Gino whispered from the chair beside me.<br />
"What the hell happened?" I asked incoherently.<br />
Gino laughed quietly, "I think the shock of finding out that that cop friend of yours Mark was Leather freak and that Brian Wanted to be his boy toy was to much for you."<br />
"Oh jeez..." I muttered suddenly remembering everything. The Coach and Brian. The fight with Mark. The spell. Losing control. The whole ordeal must have floored me. My whole body ached and I was in this complete fog of exhaustion.<br />
I felt a big gentle hand on my shoulder, "Don't Worry I don't think it was too humiliating. However it took both me and Brian's Football coach to drag your ass up here."<br />
I took the hand abruptly and looked up into Gino's concerned eyes. "Remember yesterday when you told me that I should back off the hocus pocus stuff because I was getting to carried away?"<br />
His face clouded and his big sensual lips began to work silently, "about that I'm sorry. I was tired and it had been a long day and I just..."<br />
"You were right." I told him. "I need to step away from it for awhile. I should have listened to you."<br />
He smiled his big self-effacing smile of delight, "I'm glad you see it my way but why the sudden consensus?"<br />
"I didn't have control of the situation tonight." I grudgingly told him possibly opening up more then I wanted to,<br />
"Control's a big issue with you isn't it?" He asked very seriously. "You always have to be in control don't you?"<br />
"Yes." I answered point blank. I did. That's why I got so pissed at Mark he came into my experiment without knowing what I was doing and for no reason at all just started fucking with me... No reason at all. Why did Mark come here anyway. Out of moral indignation? That wasn't like him. He saw how I changed Gino and Red and then he...<br />
That little weasel.<br />
He duped me. He knew exactly what to do to goad me into using a spell on him. He knew I'd never change him into a dumb humpy stud if he asked me too. So he fooled me into punishing him that way. The little bitch predicted my every move.<br />
"Dammit." I swore. Not only was my occult knowledge getting beyond my control but I been tricked by a computer geek. But all my anger and tensions melted away unnoticed when I realized that my alarm clock was blinking 1:30, "Did you stay home all night just to make sure I was alright?" I asked amazed.<br />
"You bet I did. And I'll have you know because of that feinting violet episode you had Mr. Melodrama I missed one of the best dance night's at the Meat Market." He joked.<br />
"I guess, I owe you one." I admitted<br />
"You sure as hell do." He agreed.<br />
How was I supposed to know just how big a debt Gino thought I owed him...?</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-44023532564979379182011-01-16T16:45:00.000-08:002011-01-17T14:52:34.618-08:003.) THE TIME WARP... AGAIN<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"> <strong><u>Chapter One </u></strong><br />
<br />
</div></div><div id="text"><div class="front"><div class="frontmatter foreword"></div></div><div class="body"><div><div>Sunday night was not one of my finest moments. I was still very hung over from my excursion to the party at what was once Gabe and Genie's and is now Gabriel and David's. I had stacks of papers to go over for my classes on Monday and I was feeling pensive. To be blunt I was being a real bitch. I was sulking in the living room surrounded by a fortification of dusty library books.<br />
I had my Lauren hill blasting to such ear piercing levels that the neighbors probably assumed she was in concert in our kitchen. The reason I had cranked the volume up was to drown out the tireless thumping emanating from Brian's room. He had come home earlier that evening with a girl and took her straight up the stairs without passing go. She was cute enough, with a blonde ponytail and Capri pants. I don't know why I had not been informed that the "Gidget" look had somehow come back in vogue. As she followed Brian up to his room you could see in her big doe eyes the zealotous adoration of a young peasant girl going to worship at the altar of her god. Brian on the other hand looked like he was trying to remember just exactly what her name was. Then again he always had a look of perpetual confusion, hell, he might be trying to remember which room was his.<br />
It turns out that Brian was such a slave to convention and stereotype that he actually had his bedpost right up against the wall so it would slam whenever he was slamming. If you know what I mean. And boy was he slamming tonight. It sounded like we were drilling for oil on our second floor.<br />
It was in the middle of Lauren's ballad "Dat thing" that Gino sauntered in with a big grin. He wore a pair of plastic green pants and a tight black T-shirt, oil stains smudged his smooth arms and face. His blonde hair was in disarray. And my only thought was he either just got off work or he's been blowing the guys at the gas station again. He had a nasty tendency to take the term full-service to the extremes.<br />
He didn't even pause before he joined the chorus and began to coyly and painfully serenading me "That thing that thing...That thi-I-I-I-ing" His hips moved back and forth and he swayed powerfully to the beat.<br />
I turned the stereo off almost immediately.<br />
"Aww C'mon!" he complained.<br />
I looked back at him in innocent curiosity "Oh do you like Lauren hill?"<br />
"Hell yea!"<br />
"Then why are you trying to offend her by brutalizing her music like that?"<br />
He gave me a dark look and then rolled his hulking shoulders in a deep laugh "Oh no you didn't!" Gino walked around my wall of work and sat down across from me, "Why are you so happy tonight?"<br />
"Unlike some irresponsible party boys, I have class work to do. I can't just go to work and come home with all the time to listen to "I will survive" and work out I want." I replied acidly.<br />
Gino looked at me and then shot his gaze down, "Well neither do I now..."<br />
"What?"<br />
"I kinda quit my job at the garage." His deep Italian voice had the tone of a reluctant child.<br />
"Why did you do that you big dumb Guido." I asked exasperated.<br />
"The guys at the garage man, they keep ridin' me about how I dress and stuff. They started callin' me Ms. Salvatore. And I mean I can only beat the hell out of them so many times." His dark eyebrows furrowed in frustration and I suddenly had a twinge of guilt. Nothing big but just a twinge though, it's hard to get real upset when you don't have a conscience. Whatever I did to Gabriel and David in my drunken stupor it had some how managed to provide them both with new jobs to go with their new lives. Maybe I just wasn't as thorough with Gino.<br />
I put down a tome and looked at his big green eyes, "Do you want me to do something about them? I could go over there and have a little talk with your..."<br />
"No!" he answered vehemently waving his hands wildly making the bracelets he wore on his right hand clank loudly. "No you don't have to do anything Damien, I got a new job lined up anyway."<br />
I eyed him suspiciously from behind my black bangs. Why in the world would he be so adamant about me not getting involved? Then a really shocking thought occurred to me. Perhaps Gino had some kind of inclination as to how I might plan to deal with them. I considered it for a moment and then quickly pushed it aside. If he realized what was really going on he'd have to be as smart as me maybe even smarter. And there just was no WAY that was the case.<br />
"You got a new job?....Where?"<br />
"Up on 64th. I'm going to interview to manage a gym." He said proudly flashing his big pearly grin.<br />
"Well you better get it. I'm not going to carry your rent because you're too damn sensitive to work."<br />
Gino and I both looked up to see Eric's unannounced presence in the doorway. He stood there in a crisp new blue suit with his brief case slung over his shoulder. His neatly trimmed brown hair was slicked back away from his face and it gleamed with hair gel. He took off a pair of circular Donna Karen sunglasses and regarded the both of us with undisguised contempt. "I hope you plan to clean up this mess," he looked at me, " I don't want to have to stop inviting people over to my own house because I'm embarrassed of the way you people live." The tone in which he said "you people" was not flattering at all.<br />
I looked him in the eye "Oh no My plan was to continue piling 300 year old priceless antique books around the house as if they were old TV Guides until me and Gino here had enough to recycle them and get a whole nickel."<br />
Gino slapped his plastic covered knee and convulsed in a gale of laughter. Eric on the other hand was unamused, "Keep laughing' Gino. You're going to need that nickel while your down at the unemployment line."<br />
"Christ man why don't you lay the hell off?" the Italian man stood up and faced his accuser. Eric's tight swimmers build paled in comparison to Gino's broad chest and granite arms. They stood there facing off for a few tense minutes, the tall Italian muscular bottle blonde and the fit 5'9 brown haired executive. Eric faced him down however with his cool uncaring stare and brushed passed him to the kitchen.<br />
"I'm outta here, " Gino declared and grabbed a shiny leatherjacket from the hall closet.<br />
I called after him, "Gino you left the closet door open..."<br />
Eric broke into cruel barking laughter, "Yeah in more ways then one."<br />
His only response was the violent slamming of the front door.<br />
...All right the pretty boy now officially had it coming to him.<br />
"What the hell is your problem?" I asked him as he took a swig from a bottle of Evion.<br />
"I don't have any type of problem. Why?"<br />
"Then what was all that bullshit about Gino being in the unemployment line just cause he's switching jobs."<br />
He gave me a long suffering look, "Come on Damien," I think that was the first time the man had actually acknowledged that I had a name, "You know his kind, they're out of work and then suddenly they're collecting welfare and my hard earned money is going to support there whole family."<br />
"His kind of people? And what exactly are his kind of people?"<br />
"White trash." He said bluntly. "I mean the man was a mechanic."<br />
By now I was already mentally thinking of all the interesting mind numbing migraines my west Indian voodoo doll would give the son of a bitch.<br />
Eric looked at himself in the hall mirror making sure he had no tell tale five o'clock shadow on his perfectly angular jaw. "For as stupid as he is I guess I should be glad he's got a job at all, and isn't in some government assistance program for the mentally handicapped."<br />
I sat back and just let the jerk dig his hole deeper and deeper. "You know Brian isn't exactly reciting the Iliad off the top of his head either."<br />
Eric turned to me in agitation; the snot was pissed because I had the nerve to question him. "Brian at least serves some kind of purpose in the world. He goes out there and runs into some other big dumb jock so that the great unwashed masses can stay mindlessly entertained for another weekend of their dull little lives."<br />
I focused intently on Eric's arrogant smile, "And what's your opinion of me?" My voice was a little darker and threatening then I had intended.<br />
His smile broadened realizing he had pushed several of my very accessible buttons. "You seem to be somewhat intelligent, but you're a little too impressed with your own individuality."<br />
"Really?"<br />
"And what is your major anyway,... history?" he scoffed.<br />
"Ancient Civilizations, with a focus on their beliefs and religious ceremonies."<br />
He laughed right in my face, "And what are you going to do with that? Take all that wasted education and use it to what? Teach?" his laughter continued, "Do you know what teachers make? You might as well be a bagboy. Why would you want to strive for mediocrity?"<br />
"Actually I've recently decided to use it for behavioral rehabilitation."<br />
Eric was confused "I don't get it"<br />
"Oh you will...believe me...you will."<br />
He looked taken aback not knowing why the statement sounded so ominous. "I don't have time for this. I'm supposed to meet Claire Eddington for drinks at the MountDyne Club." He said the names "Claire Eddington" and "the MountDyne club" as if he excepted me to be impressed. When it was obvious I wasn't he sighed in disgust grabbed his Armani coat and left. "My time is too valuable to waste on you people." Was his parting remark.<br />
My plans for Eric began to coalesce the second the door shut. My mind was racing and I can tell you it sure, as hell wasn't sugarplums dancing in my head.<br />
It took me three hours to find just the right passage in one of my books and by then Gino was walking through the front door, drunk and searching for balance. I looked up from the dusty pages with a smile of genuine pleasure, "Just the man I wanted to see!"<br />
"What's happenin'?" he asked happily as he plopped down next to me.<br />
I put my arms around his shoulders "how would you like to do me a big favor,"<br />
"For you buddy anything." He slurred<br />
"Go break into Eric's room and bring me his alarm clock." I have to admit I had an almost child like glee in my voice.<br />
Gino was up and moving before he even considered asking why, "Why you want his clock?" he hiccuped.<br />
"Because Gino my friend, Eric says his time is precious. I think we should help him savor every minute of the day."<br />
"Whatever." He shrugged his massive shoulders and trudged up the stairs on his muscled calves.<br />
I waited patiently and hummed happily "It's astounding ...Time is fleeting ...Madness takes it's toll...now listen closely....Not for very much longer...I've got to keep control."</div><div class="mindthegap">Eric Redman awoke promptly at six on Monday morning. He stepped out of his bed and slid off his pajamas and quickly put on a pair of jogging shorts and a sweatshirt. He left his home taking careful mental note that his roommates all still lay lazily in their beds. His jog lasted a half of an hour and carried him a good few miles.<br />
He absolutely despised jogging but it kept him in shape and physical stamina and appearance were two very important factors in business.<br />
When he got back to the house he got right into the shower. He let the refreshing steam roll over him and he meticulously planned his itinerary for the day. He washed his hair with expensive imported shampoo and conditioned it afterwards. He slowly shaved his face paying close attention so as to attain a perfect shave. He finished up by moisturizing and then cleaning the shower floor.<br />
Eric wiped the steam away from the bathroom mirror and admired his reflection. It was not vain to admit he was a handsome man. He had had the kind of chiseled angular face one might find in an Abercrombie and Finch catalogue. His blue eyes shone brightly in the granite rock of his cheekbones and were accentuated by slim brown eyebrows. He put a dab of gel precisely the size of a dime in his hand and slicked his chestnut hair back against his forehead. He was a picture right out of GQ.<br />
He stepped back and took in the appearance of his whole trim frame. His chest was compact without being to muscular, his arms were cut without being too bulky and the only hair he had was a sprinkling across his pecs and a bunny trail that lead to his dick. His embarrassing morning wood still lingered, His Penis lying half-hard against his smooth leg. He paid the need in his shaft no mind. Guys who let themselves be lead around by their dick, were thinking with the wrong head. They were the kind of men who judged their dick size like it meant something. Eric knew it was the size of your stock portfolio not your dick that mattered<br />
Athletic but completely proportionate. Perfect...in his own mind.<br />
He wrapped a towel around his waste and headed to his room to get dressed.<br />
Once In his room he pulled out a pair of fresh silk Calvin Klein boxers and quickly put them on. Then he perused his closet for a good ten minutes indecisively until settling finally on a blue Brooks Brother's suit. He finished off his attire with his gold Rolex and a red tie that cost him a small fortune. He grabbed his briefcase and headed down stairs for breakfast.<br />
He was irritated to find his Roommates all huddled around the table eating like pigs at slop. Brian mindlessly chewed on a piece of toast in a pair of his jogging shorts. Gino was furiously shoving fruit loops into his mouth and was wearing nothing but a small and very revealing flannel bathrobe. And Damien, dressed in baggy sweats, eyed him strangely from over the morning paper.<br />
Instead of engaging in useless small talk he made himself a bagel and sliced a grapefruit. He finished his breakfast and quickly rushed to his car without so much as a "good morning".<br />
He slid into the driver's side of his Jaguar and sped off to the offices were he was completing his Marketing internship. Sure the Jag was expensive but he had to maintain a certain appearance.<br />
His father had pulled some strings and Eric's "internship" was more or less an executive level position. He had his own office, responsibilities and best of all: secretary.<br />
On the way to his sixth floor office he shared an elevator with one of the guys in his intern program. Daniel Prescot was another Prep school alumnist with a Daddy who could toe the line. He was the golden boy in every sense of the world. Too tan skin, too blonde hair, and too white teeth. He was Eric's kind of people.<br />
They talked casually about recent stock rises and falls, the best new restaurants, which VP's were in which exec's were out. Just basic shop talk.<br />
"Where have you been hiding yourself lately?" He asked politely.<br />
"Now that you mention it, I just got back from the Bahamas," the blonde answered.<br />
"I can tell by all that tan skin," Eric replied staring straight ahead at the elevator doors.<br />
Daniel began to laugh lightly, "what?" Eric asked turning to look at him.<br />
His fellow Executive gave him a weird little wink, "Yeah, ALL this skin is tan man," And then the other man actually pulled his pants down a little on the side to expose the deep brown skin on his hip. "No tan lines."<br />
Who knew Prescot was a fruit?<br />
After Daniel's ridiculous display Eric refused to make conversation. He retreated from the confining space and with relief slyly said "Good morning Patty," his blonde haired assistant as he entered his office.<br />
"Mr. Redman I've asked you before to call me Ms. Emery or if you must Patricia." She had her blonde mane piled up on her head in a braid showcasing her long neck. Patricia Emery almost had a model's good looks. Her smart red pants-suit jacket plunged deep into her neckline revealing the large cleft of her cleavage. And Eric took every opportunity to glare evidently at it. She became uncomfortable under his intense gaze and resituated her blazer.<br />
"Whatever you say Patty. Now what's on the agenda for today?"<br />
She sighed and resigned herself to another day of Eric Redman's special brand of personality warfare. "Your morning is booked until 12 for federal regulations reports, then your scheduled for lunch with Mr. Jarvis the VP of marketing, after which you have to go down to shipping for a brief meeting with the foreman of the second shift loaders." She paused looking up from her electric planner, "Oh and Ms. Eddington called she wants you to meet her for dinner."<br />
Eric gave her a leering stare, "Thank you patty." He turned toward the paperwork on his desk, Patricia was almost out of the door before he suddenly realized what she had said and stopped her short. "What do you mean I have to meet with someone in shipping?"<br />
"Company policy Mr. Redman all interns are to get a thorough overview of the company from top to bottom. You're to discuss quality control with one Mr. Hank Thomas." She told him patiently.<br />
"Why would any executive have to know how the Neanderthals down in grunt labor do their job. It's not that difficult. We could get Mexican pack mules to do the same work." He complained.<br />
"That being said," she replied in cold distaste, "Your appointment with him is for 2."<br />
"That will be all patty." Eric said dismissing her angrily. He watched in undisguised interest the way her ass moved under the soft fabric of her pants as she quickly left his office.<br />
Eric breezed through the Fed reports in almost 2 hours. The math was simple calculations he could easily estimate in his head and the ridiculous legal jargon that the government constantly tried to trip you up with was easy for someone of his intelligence to understand.<br />
At 12 he walked across the street from his offices and met Mr. Jarvis at a classic Venetian restaurant for lunch. Jarvis was easy to charm with urbane stories about company gossip and new policies. They discussed recent events in the market and talked extensively about Eric's plans for the future.<br />
Eric ordered a cob salad and mushroom anti-pasta with raspberry vinaigrette. Speaking to the waiter exclusively in Italian, and although the entrée's in the menu were all presented with their Italian names the poor young girl who took their order was very confused. After she asked if he needed a translator Eric rolled his eyes and condescendingly replaced his order not only in English but in a slow almost baby talk.<br />
Eric oozed charm and class from every poor of his body "...and so you see Mr. Jarvis I simply told her if all she had was an 82 I was willing to take something else of a better vintage, Kool-Aid perhaps."<br />
Jarvis laughed tightly, his wrinkled cheeks shaking in polite mirth. "Eric you are very much you father's son. And if your as ambitious as he is I'm sure your going to go far with the company."<br />
Eric smiled absolutely pleased with himself.<br />
His day was going absolutely perfect until promptly at a quarter of two patty buzzed in to tell him that he had better get down to the loading docks or he was going to be late for his meeting. He angrily put aside his files and put on his coat. He was fuming about the bother of having to dignify the rank and file with his precious time the whole way through the building.<br />
The shipping docks were crowded with heavy loading machinery, forklifts and crates making it hard for Mr. Redman to find his way to the foreman's office. He was stepping carefully around the various puddles of water, motor oil, and strange unidentifiable liquids so as to not destroy his expensive Italian loafers. After ten minutes of hopeless wandering he decided to flag down one of the random Neanderthals milling around aimlessly. He reluctantly turned to a tall man walking passed him. The man looked to be only a little older then him but he outweighed him by about fifty pounds. Eric mentally noted that the man looked like the lumberjack on the bounty commercials with his short beard, and bulky frame. That is of course if the bounty lumberjack had shopped exclusively at K-mart.<br />
"You," Eric said pointing to him, "Where is Mr. Thomas's office."<br />
The man looked at him with a scowl "Who's askin'?"<br />
That remark made him suddenly very impatient "Excuse me... but have you noticed that I have on a suit and tie?" he asked condescendingly. "..And that you would be wearing a pair of dirty overalls. Now I know your probably not used to seeing people in ties, unless your at a funeral...or a hearing... but in the business world a tie denotes some kind of importance. Overalls don't. Which makes me important ...you not. So hurry up and tell me where the head unimportant person's office is."<br />
The guy bit down on his lower lip and began squeezing his huge hands into balled up fists. Eric had the frightening thought that this brute might hit him. "You don't have to go to my office, I'm right here." Hank answered.<br />
The young executive was slightly taken aback but quickly regained his arrogant edge. " Oh ... I couldn't tell shouldn't you be wearing some sort of name tag. How do people tell you apart from your crew."<br />
" I don't know how do they tell you apart from the rest of the kiss ass suits upstairs?" Hank answered gruffly.<br />
"Pardon me?"<br />
"No."<br />
Eric looked at the big man angrily. But Hank just regarded him blankly from under his heavy brown eyebrows. "Look I know you're down here to tour shipping, but I don't really want to lead another spoiled brat around by the hand so he can complain about the smell and how his little suit might get dirty. And my men don't like the disgusted way you pussy's look at them while they're doin real man's work. So why don't we just tell the brass up stairs that we went through with this bullshit and I can get back to work and you can get back to doing nothing alright?"<br />
"Spectacular idea," Eric replied shortly, and turned in such a little tantrum that he stepped right in a puddle, splashing dark water al over his shoes. The men working around him all turned and laughed like a bunch of monkeys. The crew of manual labors all laughed raucously at him the whole way out. The only thing that kept him from causing a scene was the comforting thought that someday he would make more in a year then these farm animals would in there whole lives.<br />
After the unpleasantness in shipping Eric was glad to relax with a simple dinner with Claire at the MountDyne club. Claire was not exactly his idea of a hot date, she didn't have patty's cleavage or legs or blonde hair...But she did thankfully have one thing patty did not, money. And lots of it. The Eddington's were Old money the kind of old money that came across the Atlantic not on the mayflower but on the Nina the Pinta and the Santa Maria. With her wealth and connections Eric was more then willing to put up with her vapid conversation, her less then beautiful face and emaciated little body.<br />
He picked idly at his faux Gras while he listened to her prattle on about the latest gossip from the Hampton's and how a certain sorority sister of hers had gotten her nose done. He interspersed her insipid little conversation with "Really Claire?" and "Isn't that great." Meanwhile he was thinking almost exclusively of his assistant patty in and out of her pants suit.<br />
He dropped Claire off with a parting kiss and a lustful glance...at her estate.<br />
He arrived home to a darkened house. Brian was probably out at some licivious frat party; Gino was most likely at a club and Damien...God only knows where he was.<br />
He poured himself a glass of brandy from his private stash, watched a little CSPAN and then went right to bed.<br />
...Damien walked through the front door just in time to see the light from Eric's room wink out. "Now the real fun begins," He chuckled.</div></div><div class="mindthegap"><h3>Chapter two</h3>Eric got up on Monday morning to both the sound of the high pitched siren of his alarm clock and an incessant pounding on his door, "Either get the hell up or turn off the damn alarm!" someone shouted from behind the door. He clumsily smacked his hand down on the snooze button. Whoever had been thumping on his door, satisfied, now returned to his own room.<br />
Eric stumbled out of bed, rubbing his head in a fog. He felt like he had a hangover, like he had gone on some terrible bender the night before, but he had only had a couple of drinks with Claire on Monday night. No, It had been Sunday night. Today was Monday...wasn't it?<br />
He spent a good ten minutes trying to find his bearings before he realized that he should already be done with his morning run. He threw on his sweats and flew out of the house. After about 6 blocks of brisk running he was ready to die. He had never been so sluggish. He hit the wall before even getting a third of the way into his routine. Where it normally took him about a half an hour this one had him huffing and puffing and holding his side for a good 60 minutes. The only thing that kept him going was determination and the mantra, "to be an executive you have to LOOK one."<br />
He practically collapsed into the shower. He was running late so he quickly scrubbed up. He grabbed the nearest bottle of shampoo and ran it through his hair without regard to label or brand. When he went to shave his face his thick coating of whiskers made it hard for him to rush the job. But even with careful strokes he still managed to cut himself. He kept nicking his jaw and chin, it was almost as if he wasn't used to shaving the planes and angles of his own face...<br />
He jumped out of the shower with out even enough time to slap on some After-shave.<br />
Toweling away the steam from the mirror, he was momentarily stunned with confusion. Something seemed out of place...but he just couldn't put his finger on it. He took quick inventory of his appearance. He thought his face seemed somehow broader...but no he always had the impressive strong jaw line and broad chin. His neck tapered down unto his wide shoulders and his lightly developed chest was covered with a healthy rug of brown hair.<br />
He shrugged away his concern and put a big glob of gel in his hands and slicked his mop of shaggy brown hair back away from his face, so the arrant strands rested loosely at the nap of his neck. The length of his hair gave him pause and made him think that he needed a hair cut, but his hair was always this long, wasn't it<br />
The first suit he put his hands on was the one he decided to wear and he accessorized it with the nearest available tie. The clothe seemed very confining and bunched up in odd places when he walked and moved, like it was three sizes too small for him. It made him very uncomfortable and self-conscious. He must be putting on weight or something. He rushed through dressing with thoughts of breakfast, for some reason he was insanely hungry.<br />
The roommates were all huddled around the table eating like pigs at slop. Brian chewed mindlessly on a piece of toast in a pair of jogging shorts. Gino furiously shoveled fruit loops into his mouth and Damien, dressed in baggy sweats, eyed him strangely over the morning paper.<br />
He made himself his customary bagel and grapefruit but after he ravenously finished them both in record speed, he was still hungry. He managed to pry the sports page away from Brian and read it as he helped himself to two big bowls of Gino's cereal. As Brian was leaving he turned to Eric and asked, "hey man you want to get a few bruski's tonight."<br />
"No buddy I gotta spend some time with the little woman, if you know what I mean." He answered with a knee jerk response and then to his surprise they both laughed the same vulgar laugh.<br />
He finished his bowl spilling a little milk down his tie and made a mad dash to his Jag. Even speeding didn't help escape being twenty minutes late for work.<br />
Patricia Emery was waiting patiently in the doorframe of his office. "You're late." She said simply. He brushed passed her hurriedly throwing his briefcase on his desk.<br />
"Patricia, What's my...my...uh.." he struggled searching for the word.<br />
"Itinerary?" She offered.<br />
"Yeah that." He said relieved.<br />
She looked at him suspiciously "First you have a stack of federal Regulation reports that need to be completed."<br />
"Aww shit." He complained.<br />
Patricia looked up shocked, at his use of an obscenity. "Then you're having lunch with Mr. Jarvis, After which you're supposed to go to shipping and meet with Hank Tomas."<br />
Eric ran his hands frustratedly though his shaggy brown hair, "Aww fuck I don't want to have to spend a whole lunch hour with that old fart."<br />
Patty looked around the room for the hidden camera.<br />
Eric began sorting through his paperwork and she quickly excused herself from the weirdness that was occurring in Mr. Redman's Office. "Oh by the way Claire Eddington called, she wants to meet for dinner." Eric's reaction was to let loose another string of obscenities. He let her leave his office without even a passing notice to the low cut red blouse or her butt as she hurriedly escaped his presence.<br />
The morning was terrible; he poured over his reports in confusion. As hard as he tried he couldn't get through them without calling Patricia in and asking her for help. The numbers all just seemed to run together. The regulations and technical bullshit made his head swim and he more then once angrily hurled a report across the office floor. It was like he was having trouble thinking today. He had only gotten through half of them when Patricia buzzed into tell him that e was late for his lunch with old man Jarvis.<br />
Jarvis made him go to some fancy Italian place where the menu was all in French or something. He asked the waitress to explain what everything was almost twice. He hurriedly ordered a salad and some pasta, but before she left he changed his mind. "Hey sweetheart, fuck the grass...bring me a big steak and some fries." He said hungrily.<br />
Jarvis looked at him strangely, 'That's a little heavy for lunch isn't it Mr. Redman."<br />
Eric laughed loudly, "Shit I gotta keep myself fueled don't I?"<br />
" I suppose..."<br />
"How would you like your Steak sir?'<br />
"Anyway you want to bring it, just as long as it ain't fuckin' mooin', Am I right Jarvis?" He barked while slapping the aged executive on the back.<br />
The remainder of the lunch was spent in intervals of awkward silence and equally awkward conversation. Jarvis would discuss Company policy and Eric would interject with vulgar anecdotes that he didn't even know he knew but found extremely funny.<br />
Mr. Jarvis excused himself prematurely, creating some excuse about how he needed to finish some work, leaving Eric to enjoy his steak in peace.<br />
He went right from lunch to the shipping docks, seeing the tour of the docks as a welcome reprieve from his mountain of paperwork.<br />
Standing somewhat unconfidently near the loading doors Eric waited for the foreman to show up. All around him large men in work clothes grunted over the heavy packages they were struggling to get onto the bed of a Mac truck. There wasn't a man in the entire docking area who looked like he weighed less then 200 pounds of corded muscle. They were hard working, hard sweating brutes of men and strangely Eric Redman found himself a little intimidated by them. Deep in his mind he found himself thinking quietly about how much he admired men like these guys big manly guys who could lift three times there weight and didn't have to mess with the bullshit of the corporate rat race. Salt of the earth Dudes who didn't take any shit.<br />
"You look lost buddy, need some help?" a good natured voice asked from behind him.<br />
"I'm looking for Hank," he said as he turned to meet the speaker.<br />
"You found him, pal." The stranger laughed a barking full-chested chuckle. The man who had answered him was about an inch or two shorter then him. And a lot wider with strong lifting shoulders that sat on top of his frame like a shelf. He had close cut curly hair and a thin, short-beard that covered his tan jaw in fuzz of whiskers. The hair on his head and chin was a golden brown that shone with the natural highlights of working in the sun and his tan was a deep brown enriched by constant exposure to the elements. From behind the tan skin two green eyes sparkled at him friendly.<br />
Eric was struck at how handsome the foreman was. It was a strange observation for him to make, but it was just a simple fact. And he had gorgeous eyes too...<br />
"Eric Redman," He mumbled self-consciously still staring into the other man's eye's intently. "They sent me from upstairs." He finished extending his hand.<br />
Hank grabbed his extended palm forcefully with his thick hairy forearm and shook his out stretched palm with such ferocity it made him want to laugh. "Good to meet ya Eric...Or should I call ya Red? I bet all your buddies call ya Red, Am I right?"<br />
He coughed uncomfortably, "Uh no they don't."<br />
"Oh Okay then." Hank rolled his bull shoulders in agreement and put his dirty hands in the pockets of his overalls. "Guess we better start the grand tour."<br />
Hank happily showed him around the entire Shipping floor introducing him to all the men on the 2nd shift crew. Each time Eric found his hand grasped by the firm sturdy grip of the workers and look into their dusky faces at the open and simple eyes he was a little more ashamed of his corporate attitude. And found himself envying the simple lifestyle they maintained the average workday. No stress, no hassles just good old-fashioned work. He wondered why they were such foreign concepts to him.<br />
The best part of the afternoon was getting to know Hank. He was a genuinely nice guy. Hank kept cracking jokes try to put him at ease and told him if he ever needed somewhere to hide when the paperwork or the bullshit upstairs piled up to high, he could always come down to shipping.<br />
"Hey me and a couple of the boys are goin down to Smitty's to get some beers after work why don't you come?" Eric was really grateful for the offer and went back to work to his cell...Office thinking incessantly about what a great guy Hank was. And occasionally thinking how great Hank's ass looked in those overalls.<br />
At the end of the day he was so tired from the stress that he cancelled dinner with Claire and went right home. He contemplated meeting Hank and the other guys at the bar but decided against it. He just didn't fit in with those guys, no matter how much he wished he did.<br />
The house was dark; all his roommates must be out. He sat down on the couch and downed a couple of beers. He was on his fourth when he was so damned bored with the news that he began channel surfing. He flipped across the channels until stopping suddenly. The TV flashed with a view of a locker room and a huge mountain of a man in tights yelling threats into a microphone. Eric watched in rapt fascination for a half-hour before he realized that he was watching professional wrestling. But by the time he made the shocking realization he was already to involved.<br />
There was aguy With dark skin, who seemed to be hiding some kind of ethnicity beneath his ridiculously tight costume. He seemed Hispanic or Arabian r. And another one Who looked like an exaggerated caricature of white bred masculinity who had a shaven head and a goatee on top of a neck the size of a telephone pole. And they were rolling around the ring beating each other into a pulp. Eric admired both competitors thinking of what good shape the men were in and how strong they were. He watched the match to its end, yelling at the television more then once before the massive bald man was declared the winner.<br />
While he watched the two brutes roll around with each other he got a massive hard on. He was so turned on that he uncharacteristically pulled out his dick and began to stroke it right there on the couch. He heatedly massaged his excited cock; he laid his head on the back of the couch letting his hair fall heavily across his neck. As he continued jerking off his warmly aroused cock he let his mind wander in a half masturbation fantasy half-dream state.<br />
At first he was having a regular stroke fantasy, he was in the wrestling ring from television and was fucking one of the ring girls. She was blonde and wore a scandalous little T&A outfit. Eric was wearing his suit and tie and only had his pants unbuttoned far enough to drive his rock hard dick into her.<br />
As he was happily fucking the blonde, The two big muscle bound behemoth wrestlers watched and cheered him on. The dark guy...The Dark skinned man with black hair and mountains of tanned muscle and the guy the bruiser with the goatee' and shaved head watched from the sidelines calling and egging him on in camaraderie.<br />
Eric found himself staring more at the glistening pecs, bulging guns and thick thighs of both wrestlers instead of the humpy girl beneath him. He continued to stare in adoration at their magnificent brawny bodies, until they took quick cocky strides toward him, their hips rolling their big legs across each other.<br />
The dark wrestler in his black trunk briefs and black boots made the first move. He grabbed Eric's suit jacket pulling it off him, and then ripped the white shirt off of him snapping all the buttons. He could feel the strength in the other guys hands.<br />
The bald guy Began undoing Eric's pants the rest of the way, his gargantuan back showing like a plateau of muscled white flesh as he bent over.<br />
The blonde had all but disappeared.<br />
He was eventually naked before both masculine gods and dropped to his knees in a move to begin sucking on the Dark haired wrestler's hidden package but they both pulled him up with little effort and handed him some clothes to put on.<br />
He looked down on the material, a pair of red tights and boots to match. In his head he was screaming to throw the stuff down and wake up but he was fucking turned on, more then he had ever been in his life. So against his better judgement he slipped into the constricting tights and slipped on the padded molded boots. As he dressed the two primal men felt every inch of his body pressing their huge arms, and legs against him, never leaving him without the glory of their physical contact. Their thick exaggerated muscles never stopped touching his skin.<br />
When he was done dressing they broke their contact making him gasp in regret.<br />
He stood alone in the center of the ring naked except for the similar costume they had handed him.<br />
When they were done he didn't look like himself; both brawlers gave an approving look at their handiwork. He looked like them, big exposed hairy chest, concrete legs stuffed into a pair of red tights, Sweat soaked hair.<br />
He looked just like the steroid exageratted men they had made him one of them. He wanted to get away or wake up but it was hard to think, all he could manage to focus on was how hard his dick felt and how hard the dark skinned wrestler's dick looked.<br />
The dark skinned wrestler came close to him, grabbed his big ass and met him on his new eye level, "Now you're one of us RED buddy," and then he forced his mouth big and wide unto Red's waiting lips. Red melted into the sweaty kiss, but when the Wrestler from TV pulled away...It was Hank.<br />
Red...Eric awoke from the nightmare with a start his hands resting comfortably around his balls and his expensive shirt and tie covered in loads of cum.<br />
He finished his sixth beer quickly and crawled into bed. He turned out his light and his last thoughts before drifting off into sleep were strangely of Hank...<br />
. ...Damien walked through the door just in time to see the light in Eric's room go off. "Now the real fun begins," he chuckled.</div><div class="mindthegap"><h3>Chapter Three</h3>Red got up reluctantly yawning loudly and stretching his arms in a wide arc. He chopped his lips noisily and lumbered to the bathroom groggily. He scratched his heavy balls through the material of his confining tight Hane's briefs.<br />
He pounded one big fist on the bathroom door and yelled at whoever was in the shower to get the hell out.<br />
After a couple of minutes and sounds of hectic movement Gino scrambled through the door. His hunky body still wet and his towel clinging seductively to his waist. He patted the Italian buck on his blonde head and said, "Don't worry sweetheart even with out all the primping your still the prettiest girl on the block."<br />
Gino regarded him under one dark eyebrow, "and you're still as ugly as sin."<br />
Red barked a laugh and swatted him on his inviting bubble butt, forcing the cheeks to vibrate hotly.<br />
He showered for all of about ten seconds not even bothering to wash his hair. He just pulled it back out of the line of the nozzle and soaped down enough to scrape the grim of yesterday's work off of him. He sauntered to his room buck-naked pausing only slightly to check the length of the gristle on his chin in the hall mirror. It looked as if it had been a week since his last shave and he had a very healthy five o'clock shadow thick on his neck and jaw. The glance tapered down his massive hirsute form to the heavy cock surrounded by his dense furry bush. He grabbed at his thick shaft absently, trying to decide if he should jack of before work or not... The clock was ticking so he decided against it.<br />
He Slipped into a pair of jeans without even thinking of putting on draws and then threw on a shirt and went down stairs.<br />
The other guys were all sitting around the table; Brian was eating toast looking at nothing. Gino was sitting with his bathrobe wide opened, and Red gave him an appraising look, taking a good look at the bald crotch and balls. Gino caught his look and smiled back appreciatively. Damien regarded him with a big smile that was hardly hidden by the newspaper he pretended to read.<br />
The dark eyes of his new roommate made him uncomfortable, so he hastily pulled on his heavy shit-kicker work boots, pulled his hair behind his head with a ragged Nascar baseball cap and headed out the door to his truck. He lifted himself up into the high cab of his Imposing truck and roared of to work. He stopped on the way at one of those greasy spoon diners and had a big helping of chicken fried steak and Homefries.<br />
Without even thinking about for some reason Red rode the elevator up to the 6th floor got off and headed to a closed office door. It was the weirdest fucking thing. He opened the door almost unconsciously like he was doing it out of habit.<br />
"Excuse me? Can I help you?" A pretty woman sitting behind a wide desk with her long blonde hair in a tight bun.<br />
"Uh sorry I'm was just...I mean fuck...I was..." he sputtered confused.<br />
"Mr. Redman?" the woman asked standing up and crossing toward him, her tight little red pant suit displaying her well formed calves. "I'm sorry I'm Patricia Emery, one of the VP's here in marketing. I thought my secretary told you, I was just going to send down the intern that I want you to show the loading docks too. You didn't have to come up here to get him."<br />
Red looked around uncomprehendingly and then took of his grubby cap and scratched his head in a very ape like fashion, "Sure thing Ms. Emery, just send your boy on down and I'll show him the ropes."<br />
"I'll send him down after lunch then, thank you Mr. Redman." She said politely.<br />
He smiled a big wide grin of pleasure at making Ms. Emery happy and turned to leave. His boots thudded along the carpeted floor and he slowly became aware of how much he stood out against the power ties and blue suits of the other men in the office. He fidgeted uncomfortably as he walked by them, maybe he should button a couple of the top buttons on his shirt... Before he hit the elevator he turned around and caught Ms. Emery covertly sneaking a look at is ass. He chuckled a little, thinking about how he couldn't much blame her. His ass looked good as shit in his tight jeans. The denim clinging to his developed glutes and making his hefty cheeks rub against each other. He was glad she liked what she saw.<br />
After getting back down to shipping and getting his head together he punched in and began the days first unloading with the rest of the guys on his crew. They were about twelve trucks in when Ms Emery sent her little suit from upstairs to bother him.<br />
The kid looked like he was gonna feint from the smell of real men. He was cookie cutter clean, blonde hair tailored suit, Red supposed he was handsome but he was absolutely not his type.<br />
The punk introduced himself as Daniel Prescot; he was no better then a suit in training. Ten minutes with Daniel Prescot and Red was ready to take his skinny pussy ass out back and beat some respect into him, and he felt that way the rest of the bruisers on his team were probably ready to draw blood. Red took him into his office so the rest of the guys wouldn't get pissed off by his bitchy little attitude.<br />
"I thought we were taking a tour." The suit sad flippantly.<br />
"Look you don't want to be here and I don't have the fuckin' time to bull-shit with you. There ain't nothin' down here you want to see." He crossed his arms forcing the big mounds of hairy pec flesh out.<br />
The asshole actually looked away shyly and mumbled. "I've already seen something I want,"<br />
One of those, Red thought irritably just another boy to big for his britches wanting a daddy to straighten him out. How many of these little bitches was he gonna find?<br />
"And what is it that you want?"<br />
"So I guess you do a lot of HARD labor down here, don't you red." Daniel said flirtatiously while he played with the number 2 pencils on Eric's desk.<br />
The big Forman's hulking from loomed over the average height of the executive the pungent aroma of masculinity and sweat running oppressively in the air. Daniel had the frantic fleeting thought that, this man's thigh is as big as my waist...<br />
Red Grabbed Daniel Prescot by his over priced belt and shoved him against his desk chair. Daniel compliantly arched himself over the back of the chair, giving the big man a good look at his eager tight ass. Huge hands that took the width of the compact young butt in their massive palms roamed over the fine clothe of his expensive suit. Red toyed with the kid for a few minutes kneading the firm flesh with his knuckles roughly causing the little button down man to moan like a bitch. Then just when he had lulled the prick into a false sense of intimacy he harshly ripped down the pants snapping the belt. Prescot yelped in shock and excitement.<br />
He was pure bottom.<br />
"This what you wanted pussy?" Red asked tightly. Big fat hands groped the exposed skin of his abs and encircled the width of his ribs.<br />
The feeling of the blue collar Hercules manhandling him fulfilled every truckstop fantasy and lumberjack wet dream he ever had. "God yes." He moaned.<br />
A pair of Calvin Klein briefs clung to the tight ass in an inviting way. Daniel Jumped when he felt the big Laborer grab his ass with a jarring force that made his teeth shake. His cock was rock hard and painfully locked behind his briefs. He was mindlessly enjoying the rush of having this animal of a man mauling his tight body when Red took a fistful of his coifed hair in one big fist and bent his head back. He strained to follow the pull and felt Red's hot breath in his ear. "This is want you want you little, bitch. To have a real man show you who's boss." Then he took hold of the Waistband of his underwear and tore them right off his trembling body. The feeling of having the material torn off him and the adrenaline of this violation almost made Daniel Cum on the spot.<br />
Red discarded the scraps of ragged fabric that were all that were left of The Calvin's and admired the site before him. He massaged his expectant cock through his tight denim jeans. The condescending little executive was bent over with his bare pert ass pushed out eagerly toward his hidden bulge, the whole body twitching and begging to be fucked.<br />
He reached under the boy and grabbed him by his sac. "When you're up in that corporate boardroom tomorrow I want you to think about this moment right here, you little cunt." He pulled on the balls, inciting a pitiful yelp from Prescot. "When you're trying to sit gently cause my big Man's dick ripped you apart inside I want you to think of who's really in charge in this company."<br />
One probing hand slid of his ass and was pushed against his face. For a second he thought the 1st shift boss was afraid he was a screamer and was going to cover his mouth. When one grimey finger slid into his mouth however Daniel got the idea. He sucked on the man's index finger with the lust of a trueborn cocksucker. He coated the work worn finger with his tongue sucking up both dirt and sweat and loving every second of it. Just as he was getting into it Red quickly removed it and left him with an absence he prayed the Man would soon let him fill with his horse dick.<br />
Red had other plans. Now that his finger was good and wet, grabbed one ass cheek spreading it apart aggressively. He circled the pink hole of Prescot's almost virgin ass, and then sharply jutted his finger up into him to the knuckle. In and out he slowly and gently finger fucked the other man's ass attentively. The bitch groaned happily and wiggled back onto his fist provocatively.<br />
"You like that huh?"<br />
""Yeah,"<br />
The big man smiled to himself in satisfaction He had given the Preppy little asshole the biggest false sense of security he was ever gonna have.<br />
He undid his belt with simple intent and only peeled his jeans down to mid thigh. His excited cock leaped out shuddering back and forth like a javelin pole. He didn't let his fuck turn around to see what he had gotten himself into; he didn't even let him feel its length before he impaled him on it.<br />
He gave Daniel a couple seconds of sweaty anticipation, his compact ass quivering with hesitation.<br />
Then he thrust into the supple ass, without warning, without mercy, without lube... Prescot barely stifled a scream, opting instead to whimper in pain. Red uncaringly began to rhythmically fuck the living shit out of him. The erotic sound of his thighs swatting against the other mans ass made Red fuck even harder.<br />
He fucked the kid like he was a prison bitch. No concern for anyone's pleasure but his won. He was tight and the size of Red's cock made him clench so the fuck didn't last very long, only enough for Red's best friend to get off on the friction.<br />
It took only a few short minutes until red put his hands back in Prescot's hair and arched his back with a grunt. The big dick jumped inside Daniel's hot ass like a live wire.<br />
Red pulled out and redid his jeans, gave the used and red ass one last praising glare and put his big lips against the pale skin of Prescot's neck. Daniel bristled at the feeling of the harsh whiskers and big face brushing against his exposed skin. The Brawny Forman Sucked cruelly on his neck with enough force to leave a very big mark.<br />
"I like to leave all my "girls" with a little something." He barked. Prescot felt the arms of the Goliath pick him up and lead him to the door, "Next time you want to talk just shuffle that little man-pussy down here and will go another round.<br />
Daniel had just enough time to hastily pull his pants up before he was pushed out into the warehouse.<br />
The rest of the day was pretty basic all the guys seemed to be on their game and weren't giving him any trouble. So at 5 he clocked out and climbed into the cab of his truck, satisfied at a good day's work. The thought occurred to him to go home and change but he decided to go right on to Hank's it was so rare for them to get time together now that they were working opposite shifts he wanted to savor every sweaty minute.</div><div class="mindthegap"><h3>Part Four</h3>When He got to Hank's the lights were off and the door was locked. He pulled the ring of about a thousand keys of one of the loops of his belt and fumbled with them until finding the right one to unlock the door.<br />
Once inside he found Hank curled up in bed wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and a sheet. He considered crawling in bed with him, but decided to let him sleep instead.<br />
On his way to the kitchen he passed the Hall mirror and gave it a passing glance as he through of his baseball cap and resituated his hair.<br />
He kept walking but ...suddenly stopped in shock. He rushed back to the mirror and gazed into the dusty glass stunned.<br />
For the first time since the first Monday morning had arrived Eric Redman stared out of his eyes aware of the changes that had occurred. He looked in horror at the monstrosity he had somehow become. He was at the least 5 inches taller and weighed about 200 pounds more. He looked ridiculous. It was like his face on someone else's gargantuan body. Gone was the trim and dignified form of Eric Redman CEO, now there was only the hulking frame and slabs of corded muscle that made up the massive body of "Red" the foreman. He touched his face gingerly, almost afraid of the contact, with one too large and crude hand. He anxiously felt the harsh coating of bristly whiskers that carpeted his short-cropped beard and sideburns. The hands were the size of dinner plates and a thousand bulging highways of veins dissected his thick forearm. The clean cut hair he had once paid 50 dollars a month to be styled lay in a messy mop around his ears and traveled in straight locks over his collar and onto the huge protruding bow of his shoulders.<br />
A red and black flannel shirt was all that covered his torso and it barely did that. It hung suggestively unbuttoned so that the deep cleft of his mountainous pecs was sure to be on display. Eric couldn't decide what was worse the repulsive slabs of chest meat that hung from his burly chest or the fact that every inch of exposed skin was covered in thick impenetrable fur, making him look like some kind of wild animal. The sleeves of the flannel rag had been ripped off to emphasize the weight of his cumbersome biceps.<br />
Eric would not have been caught dead in the pair of faded and torn jeans that hugged "reds" grotesquely big legs. Every muscle and fold of skin was accentuated in threadbare denim making it seem as though the blue jeans had been painted on to the huge tree trunk legs and soccer ball sized calves. And from the way the crotch bulged in a heavy distinct form, Red didn't believe in Boxers...or any underwear at all for that matter. Eric Redman looked like a Hillbilly mountain man on steroids.<br />
Panic set in.<br />
What the hell was going on?<br />
He started to hyperventilate steadying himself by slumping against the wall. The vast expanse of his broad back pushing solidly against the wood made him feel even more alien in this new mountain of a body.<br />
He needed a glass of wine to calm his nerves.<br />
No, he needed a nice cold beer.<br />
It was all just a bad dream this was impossible there was no way this could be happening, he would just wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine. He would be back to his normal self and go to the office...<br />
And get ready for that next big shipment coming in, this was peak season and the guys were gonna need some extra pushing...<br />
Eric gently wiped the pouring sweat from his damp forehead with one big clumsy hand and took note with revulsion at how much more he now sweated.<br />
With the other he roughly grabbed at the hefty bulge in his jeans, absently resituating his half-hard cock, and his uncomfortable balls.<br />
He had to sit down.... Just sit down and think this through for a minute... as he walked to the couch he could feel the simple movement in every muscle in his body. The new sensation of his developed musculature and size was foreign and strange.<br />
He plopped down on the couch with a thud and unconsciously turned on the Television and grabbed for the open beer on the coffee table in front of him.<br />
All there was to do was to go to bed and wake up from this horrible nightmare and then he could go back to being his normal self.<br />
The remote was in his hands almost instantaneously and he took turns swigging from the bottle and flipping channels until he stopped suddenly in interest.<br />
The rock hard muscles of a bald statuesque man in leather boots sporting a goatee' were rapped with bone breaking stress around a similarly clad and well-built man with a dark complexion.<br />
Eric watched with wrapped attention as the Dark skinned wrestler and the bald man with a goatee' wrestled each other for dominance. Their imposing bodies flying like colliding planets from end of the ring to another. The two brutes pummeled each other repeatedly fighting man to man. Their large dominate forms and aggression displaying their prowess and masculinity.<br />
The constant back shots of both men in their tight trunk's showing their meaty asses flex like two basketballs kept Eric incessantly readjusting his unmanageable dick. The length of his painfully erect cock traveled up the length of his thigh and almost threatened to burst out of his snug jeans. Just to relieve the pressure he undid the huge belt buckle, unzipped and let loose the angry viper that was trapped underneath the denim. The big thick cock rested strongly in the grip of both of his big hands. Red sat staring at the impressive piece of meat, astounded at its size.<br />
Why was he so amazed at his dick? He had always been proud of his big dick...had he always been?<br />
The dark man had his partner pinned down, his big thighs straddling the other man's massive chest. Without thinking Eric began stroking the angry dick in his hands intently. Using the pressure of both fists to send slow thrills down the spine of his shaft. These were real men, big, mean and thick. They were the kind of men wanted in his bed. Huge and huge and rough that was the man's man that Red wanted to fuck and get fucked by. Muscles and no-shit attitude. The stimulation is his cock grew more intense as he fantasized about having either man in his strong arms their mouths fighting each other, tongues thrusting in and out.<br />
He could have on of those guys. Hell, he was one of those guys. He was just as big...if not bigger. All he needed was some tight briefs and a pair of high boots and fuck he could be a wrestler. That thought made him even harder and he began to grunt as he strangled the engorged head of his tense cock and watched lustfully as the two exaggerations of masculinity continued to wrestle.<br />
"Why'd ya have to start without me asshole?" A familiar voice joked from behind him. He could feel strong warm hands running through his mane of long hair stroking the locks of dirty brown. They rested on his shoulders and began to massage his extended neck muscles. The scruff of whiskers brushed against his own in need of a shave broad jaw and the hot breath of another horny man shot across his face and into his ear, "You're gonna have to give me a chance to catch up."<br />
Red moaned happily and leaned back into a passionate kiss with other man, their sweaty jaws tackling each other excitedly and their lips pulling and tugging on each other. Smiling contentedly red looked up into the green eyes of his lover. Realization dawned on him in a burst of forbidden clarity and he pulled away from the kiss and was on his feet in the space of seconds.<br />
Hank crossed his big arms and brought his heavy brow down in confusion, "What's wrong man?" Hank stood in front of him clad only in a pair of tantalizing faded and worn navy blue briefs. His meaty body displayed perfectly, A musculature almost identical to reds big hard won labor muscle, thick and beefy stretched across his husky shape, covered only by the simple clothe which suggested at the weight of his cock.<br />
"Nothing," his gruff deep voice answered...was it his voice?<br />
"You look sick?"<br />
"Something's wrong..." Was something wrong? He was at home with his lover relaxing after a hard day at the office... no he didn't have an office...His head began to spin.<br />
Hank caught him up in the arc of his comforting firm grasp. "Do you want me to call a doctor?"<br />
Eric broke free and struggled away clumsily on his wide legs terrified at the density of his own thighs. "No this is wrong..." he almost screamed.<br />
"What's wrong babe, ya gotta tell me?" Hank was worried. In all the time he and Red had been together he had never heard him loose his cool like this, not in a bar fight, on the bench or even at work when he was reaming one of the guys out.<br />
"You...this.. Me...I mean look at me!" Eric pointed to the hulking man in the mirror. Who could have done this to him...How did this happen to his life...he was someone else he was supposed to be somewhere else...He had an office...and he had a girlfriend.<br />
Why would he have girlfriend he'd always been gay.<br />
He had a Jaguar a nice compact little... A big truck that towered over every other car on the road with a big cab and a bed big enough to haul a whole fuckin' house.<br />
"That kid...He said...he something to me last night....No it was a while ago...." The days were running together in his head meshing together insubstantially before he could get a hold of a single thought. "He must have done this to me." The rumbling bass of his voice was now on the verge of tears. His shaking paws were pulling through the disgusting mess of long trashy hair in frustration.<br />
A strong hold cupped the solid chin and brought his frantic gaze up to meet the worried green eyes of a man Eric Redman had once contemptuously dismissed. "Buddy you're loosin' it. You gotta get control. You're scarin' me here."<br />
"I'm scared of me too. Look at me. I'm a fucking animal." Tears had given way to rage and he roared loudly. That queer. He had done this. Somehow changed things...turned him from a normal intelligent man on his way up to this...this stupid mass of muscle and hair, who only had dick on his little brain. He had to get back to himself some how go back... He raged on, the mass of his big body feeding into his testosterone-drenched fury.<br />
He had made him a big animal and now he was acting like one. He had turned his athletic frame into this hulking spectacle...of masculinity. A body any man... would be proud to have. Big hairy chest and legs like a real man. Heavy back and good lifting shoulder...like a real man.<br />
He was a real man. A man's man. The type of guy that intimidated pussy ass little shits like Prescot.<br />
His head hurt. Was he going crazy?<br />
Hank was there again. His shoulders steadily holding him tight. "You gotta clam down and tell me what's wrong."<br />
"I don't think it's supposed to be this way Hank...I think it's supposed be different somehow." Red spoke quietly into the deep cleft in his lover's chest and tried in vein to explain.<br />
"Different how?" Hank's voice responded pained.<br />
"I don't know"<br />
"You want a different life. You're not happy here...with me?" Hank was deceptively calm.<br />
Red thought about the question. He had a good paying job, Nice benefits. He was good at what he did and he didn't have to worry about all the bullshit most people did. He was in good shape, and didn't have to take shit from nobody. Why would he be unhappy?<br />
And of course he was happy with Hank. When they could manage to get to be with each other. If there shifts allowed the to spend time together He was always happy with hank. Hank's strong arms and fucking hot body. Hanks big dick. Gorgeous back with it's Herculean cuts. Hank was his kind of man. His equal. His partner. He must love Hank he did love hank. They were partners.<br />
"No," was the simple answer And Eric "Red" Redman cemented himself. Red's cool control was back, he pulled his long hair out of his face and brought himself with crushing force against Hanks mouth. The blow of his forceful kiss toppled both men to the ground sending minor tremors across the house. As their lips smacked loudly together Red's hands moved instinctively to feel and rub the great bulge in his lover's briefs. The familiarity of the curves of Hanks Cock and balls comforting him.<br />
The kissed for a long time as Hank undressed him, ripping off the tattered flannel and peeling the jeans off his sweaty legs. The entire time Red's lips never left their probing of hanks and his hands never left their tireless groping of the swelling briefs.<br />
They rolled around on the hard wood floors playful wrestling with each other. Red in his unashamed nakedness and Hank in his fruit of a looms. Until Red too excited from the foreplay ended it abruptly by pulling the underwear off his partner viciously and hungrily plunged his scruffy face into the mess of thick hair on Hanks groin.<br />
He lingered from a moment in the cleft of the groin taking in the hot smell of sweat and musk. HE breathed in heartily the smell of Hank's Cock and the manly sent of a Man's balls. He began tongue bathing the hairy balls zealously. The mess of his long hair veiled his face giving him seclusion with the Cock and tickled hanks abdomen. When he had finished worshipping the big balls and allowed himself to gorge on the wide pole, he felt the swelling of his Lovers big dick at the back of his throat, the dense pubes brush against his nose, and the firm flesh of Hank's meaty ass cheeks spilling out of his hands and he was damn happy.<br />
Hank's hands caressed his head through his mane of Samson like hair and he smiled around the girth of the thick pole that filled his mouth.<br />
<br />
"Where does Madonna get off?" I asked to the open air. I grabbed the remote and put the television on mute.<br />
Gino laid lazily in a T-shirt and cut off shorts on the chair opposite me, looking for all the world like a spent porn star. He was woken up by the fierceness of my statement "what?"<br />
"Where does she get off remaking a classic?" I fumed indignantly.<br />
"Hold on wait a second." Gino said as he quickly got up and crossed to me he got very close to my face, so close in fact that I could smell his exotic cologne. I was stunned when he grabbed me by my collar and brought his fist up threateningly.<br />
I had the momentary fear that maybe whatever enchantment he had been under Gino was now frighteningly aware. But then all my fears melted away in laughter when he said, "Did you just say something' bad about Madonna?" To think my big Italian buddy who had once listened exclusively to DMX, Jay-Z and Tupac now defended the honor of Madonna. Sure it was a lost cause but hey at least his taste in music improved.<br />
"Are you girl's gonna make-out or what?" Red's deep voice boomed behind us.<br />
"You wish, Big manly men like you guys love to see two chicks get it on don't ya?" Gino retorted regrettably pulling away from me.<br />
"Only if the girl's are as pretty as you two, chicks." He smacked Gino on the back of his ass with one wide hand.<br />
"What are you doing here anyway?"<br />
He walked around into my line of sight and I was yet again confronted with my handiwork. The spell I had originally cast on Eric...Red was stronger then I had anticipated, I think it was even affecting me. I remember Eric the power hungry elitist snob but only vaguely. Mostly though that memory was overlaid now with one of Red, Bull neck, long hair and all. Eric had been a foul tempered bad mannered arrogant little snot to big for his britches.<br />
Red had horrible manners, but only those involved with the table. And the man had britches, holy mother of god the man had britches and did he ever fill those out. The seat of those sears tough skins were so over filled I thought we may have to get some more denim to patch up the cracks. And now the only thing foul about Eric Redman was the way he smelled after a whole day of work.<br />
All in all I guess it was another rousing success.<br />
"Me and Hank are going drinking with the guys on the crew I just stopped by to pick up a couple of bills." He said motioning to Hank who stood tentatively in the doorway.<br />
I got up and walked over to Hank and extended my hand. He shook it with forceful appreciation. "Nice to meet Red's Roommates. I've heard a lot about you."<br />
"Really? Only bad things I hope." Gino answered Idly thumbing his nipple.<br />
"Gino," I chastised.<br />
"What?"<br />
I shook my head ruefully, " Never mind."<br />
"What?" he asked offended.<br />
"Hanks is obviously With Red. Do you want one of those steel Tipped CAT boots up that pretty little butt of yours." I asked.<br />
"No,"<br />
"Of course not," I agreed, "because then your Love life would be over."<br />
The Love god gave me a dark look and punched me n the shoulder saying, "Yeah for a whole five minutes...I've had better."<br />
He caught me off guard and I rolled over in laughter.<br />
Hank was getting obviously uncomfortable with our playful banter and witty repartee'. He shuffled his big feet and lowered his furry eyebrow in boredom; "Wonder what's taking Red so long."<br />
"You know Red he's kinda slow, It must take a lot of patience to spend so much time with him." I answered jokingly.<br />
"Hey you Fella's are the ones that gotta live with him, You must use up all your patience just cleaning up after him." He replied, his big eyes filled with affection.<br />
Gino gave me a sidelong look, I don't think he intended me to notice, "Well Lately he's taken some major steps to being a better man." What was that supposed to mean? Eventually Gino and I were going to have to discuss things. This coy hinting at knowing what kind of rabbits I was pulling out of my hat was becoming very annoying.<br />
Hank looked confused, "Oh really How?"<br />
"Oh nothing big," I covered quickly, "Besides I never had much patience to begin with. Patience is a virtue... and all I got was six deadly sins."<br />
Hank laughed a deep laugh in his belly.<br />
I joined him; "One more and I'll have a full set."<br />
I jumped a little as Gino unexpectedly put his big arms around my neck and pulled me close to his solid chest, he daringly put one hand on my upper thy rubbing suggestively. "I keep trying to teach him the one he doesn't have yet...Lust..." I shrugged out of his alluring grasp. "But the little prude keeps turning me down." He flopped on the couch with a sigh crossing both meaty shaved legs in the air.<br />
"Alright Hank let's motor." Red hollered as he hurtled down the stairs and toward the door.<br />
"It was nice meeting you guys...," Hank hastily said before he was grabbed up in Red's big embrace and ushered to the door with one big confident hand firmly on his butt.<br />
Gino and I both stared at the closed door for a good 5 minutes of contemplative silence. I started talking to Gino without either one of taking our curious gaze from the door, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"<br />
"What" Gino answered in a bemused tone not averting his gaze either.<br />
"That if Red and Hank are here...Who's protecting Poor little Daisy Duke back in Hazard county?"<br />
Gino barked a laugh, "I knew the two of them together reminded me of someone!"<br />
We both broke into a gale of laughter. Our hysteria took us to the floor and we laid beside each other still rolling in our mirth. Until in Typical Me fashion I broke the mood, "Gino can I ask you a question, There's something that been bothering me and I've been meaning to say something to you."<br />
The blonde club kid got up and looked at me seriously. "I'll answer any question you got man," He extended his hand and helped me up, however he pulled me in tightly until I was eye to eye with him and his big arms were around my shoulders, "ON one condition."<br />
"And what's that?" I asked surprised at the timidness in my own voice.<br />
"You gotta dance with me." He smiled his charming player smile.<br />
"I don't dance." I answered flatly.<br />
"It's easy All you have to do is," He grabbed me hard, "Take a jump to the left." He jumped into the air pulling me with him. We landed and he saw I was still looking at him unimpressed. "...And then a step to the right." He kicked my leg out from under me and stretched both our calves to the side.<br />
He paused obviously waiting for me to continue.<br />
Against my better judgement for some reason I gave in "And then you put your hands on you hips and..."<br />
Together we yelled, "Bring you knees in tight!"<br />
"You do the Pelvic thrust...the one that drives you insane...Let's do the time warp again..."<br />
The Italian stud and me hung out for the rest of the night and he was so entertaining that he managed to make me forget that Question I was going to ask him.<br />
However I did take time to make a mental Check mark next to Eric's name on my to do list. I had a moment of regret that my Mission of justice was almost over. Gino and Eric done...2 down one to go. I wonder where Brain was anyway....</div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5716810231417158948.post-16314465495899166012011-01-16T16:32:00.000-08:002011-01-17T14:51:49.167-08:001.) THAT OLD BLACK MAGIC<div id="masthead"><strong><u>That Old Black Magic</u></strong><br />
<br />
</div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">Chapter 1:</h3><div class="chapter"><br />
</div><div class="chapter"><br />
</div><div>It's just not Fair" Mark whined into his beer, "They're Assholes!"<br />
"Yes, Yes they are," I replied in that knee jerk comforting manner.<br />
"It's Ok Mark you can stay with me till you find a place," Stacey said as she gave him a big hug, it was all so sweet I could have just thrown up right there. It was a Kodak moment.<br />
Poor mark had been evicted from his house by his roommates, Boo hoo. Poor Mark was always getting stepped on in life. He was one of those door mat people who should just have "Welcome" stenciled on his forehead. He gave self-respecting queers like myself a bad name. However he was one of my oldest friends and deep down in places I don't like to acknowledge I do have a little bit of a broken wing syndrome. So I wanted to help him. Mark was a nice enough little dude, a bit unassuming but hey he's cute in that puppy dog kinda way, it's just after awhile you wanna take the puppy put it in a sack and go to down to the river. He's a nice guy, in world where the nice guy is a dying breed.<br />
Mark had been living off campus with four guys. We're all still in college. They had all rented this house together and things were fine, until Mark brought home a Bob instead of a Becky. Marks very understanding roommates gave him his walking papers almost immediately, they did take some time out though to threaten and scare him first. Hell, why not?<br />
I never had the misfortune of meeting the guys he lived with but I'm sure I'd really not like them.<br />
"They were all my friends, but when they found out I was gay... They all went crazy. Gino through me against the wall and Brian was ready to kick my ass."<br />
I was jolted back into the conversation, "So they kicked you out? I guess that means they'll be looking for a new roommate?"<br />
Both Stacey and Mark stared at me in horror. "I'm not looking for a better deal on the rent." I narrowed my eyes "It just think someone ought to teach your buddies a well deserved lesson."<br />
Stacey eyed me worriedly, "What are you gonna do Damien."<br />
"What good is being a major in ancient religious philosophy with a focus on the occult, if you can't put it in to practical use?" I answered with a dark smile.<br />
Mark laughed for the first time that night, "What are ya gonna do, put a curse on them?"<br />
I put my long black coat on and left the table, and heard Stacey call after me, "Or turn em into frogs"<br />
I opened the door to the bar and turned around and met her eyes, "not... frogs..."</div><div class="mindthegap">The house was a quaint little 2-floor building with tacky blue aluminum siding. I was just lighting my cigarette when someone answered my many knocks and opened the door. Now I'm not sure what all-American means but I am sure that the guy who stood on the other side of the door was as close as I'd ever come to the living embodiment of the definition. He was prime mid-western, home grown, corn fed, BEEF. He was tall about 2 inches bigger then me, and I'm 6'1. He was blonde with a face that against my will made my heart pump fast. He was the kind of guy who had just enough pretty and just enough gruff. He was handsome. And he was wearing a football jersey that did little to contain his strong beefy build. He was every quarterback fantasy I ever had, stuffed into a pair of tight shorts. His suntanned arms were covered with sun bleached hair all the way to his big bicep. His thick trunk like thighs were only covered by short sweat shorts. And I somehow managed to take I all this in with a studied uninterestedness.<br />
"What?" was his only greeting.<br />
"Heard ya needed a roommate."<br />
He moved forward, and it was hot to even watch him walk, "How'd ya know that?" he asked roughly.<br />
"Heard it somewhere..." I moved forward and tipped my sunglasses to look him in the eye.<br />
He gave that typical look of confusion and then just shrugged it away, "Yeah we do, the rent is 300 a month."<br />
I moved in the next day.<br />
I learned later that the blonde man's name was Brian and that he was indeed on the football team. He had a workout room in the basement and an obsession with anything in a bikini, a two piece of course. He had the irritatingly self-important cocky attitude that can only be developed by years of pampering as a college Jock star. He was kind of quiet but I think that was because he didn't see me as some one worthy of his time. It was that night that I met all my new "roommies." They all came into my room, which formerly belonged to Mark. First came Gino, the walking, talking Italian Stereotype. He was a mechanic. He was so Italian he made momma Celeste look like a fraud. He was deeply olive skinned and had those sensuous big Italian lips that just need to be kissed. The man was gorgeous. He was a body himself, all pumped up, but not with the purposeful athletic muscle that Brian trained for. Gino had big well-sculpted gym muscle. He oozed sexuality. Gino also after closer examination was a complete and total Masochist, how refreshing. He talked about women and sex in the most entertainingly vulgar ways. Apparently by Gino's reasoning the girls he dated were just, quote "Stupid bitches that took care of his cock," charming huh? He had pin up calendar sultry good looks, and dressed in baggy jeans and polo shirts. He didn't flaunt his body, he didn't have to. He did however wear a lot of gold jewelry. On a good day the man looked like he had fort knocks hanging around his neck.<br />
Last but certainly not least was Eric the upperward mobile little executive in training, he was so prissy that at first I was convinced that he was in a very big closet. But like the other two he was very straight. He did have rather irritating habits and was altogether to impressed with himself. I caught him condescendingly talking to me once or twice. He had cookie cutter good looks and was well groomed, little corporate haircut, tailored suits and an athletic-not to bulky-but still in shape build. He was the Man. He was the kind of yuppie that made Donald trump look like trailer trash, and couldn't give anyone below a six-figure tax bracket the time of day. I began with Gino of course since he was the cutest. He would enter and leave the house at all hours of the day and night, wearing his big Tommy jeans, and Nautica shirts. He came in and out with a different girl each time. I would always get calls for him, girls wanting to know where he was, or when he was going to call them, it got to the point where I didn't even pick up the phone half the time. When I asked him if he was ever going to call one of them back he would just laugh, like I was making a joke or something. My "experiment" with Gino began one night when he had come back early from some club.</div><div class="mindthegap">The front door slammed and Gino strolled in all pissed off. His dark hair was matted under his ball cap, and he looked messy like he was rolling around. He wore a big parka but had it hung open wide so as to let the wife-beater T-shirt that hugged his muscled torso be exposed. His big somewhat hairy pec's were tightly encased in the thin white cotton and his gold name chain, glittered against his sweaty olive skin. I squinted at his bulging chest and could just make out the imprint of his very big round nipples, and began to get hard. I looked at his big baggy jeans and absently wandered what kind of legs he had. Probably big muscled thighs covered with dark leg hair, and even those wide jeans couldn't hide his obvious spectacular bubble but. The band of his boxers peaked ostentatiously over his belt and I thought how sad it was that he wore those and not something more.erotic. I thought about how big his cock was and what it would be like to suck on that big Italian meat, listen to his big masculine voice beg for more, beg to be fucked. The baggy boxers and baggy jeans however awkwardly called attention to the massive erection that was making a circus tent on his crouch.<br />
"Fucking bitch," he said punching the wall and subsequently waking me up from my thoughts.<br />
"Problem?" I asked groggily.<br />
"I'm straight up tired these triflin little girls playin it like they don't know what's going on!" He explained rather loudly, his, somewhat long black hair falling into his eyes.<br />
"Huh?" I asked genuinely confused.<br />
"I took this bitch out right, and then when it's time to go back to my place she gives me some story about how she got an early class or something..." His deep brown eye's glowed with frustration, "She thought she was betta then me anyway, talkin about college, Like I'm some fucking idiot just cause I fix cars."<br />
"She called you stupid?" I asked.<br />
"No she didn't have to, man she knew how to make me feel stupid!" his thick black eyebrows scowled, and his big hand clenched and unclenched into a fist dissected with big veins. "Stupid cunt. What the hell did she think was happenin, she just ran out leavin me with a mad twisted case of blue balls," he said squeezing his balls through the heavy folds of fabric. " It's a damn joke girls actin all sexed up and then leavin ya hard. Bitch is lucky I didn't cold cock her like she deserved. I ain't playin around with any little girls no more." Then he stormed off into his room.<br />
So Gino was having girl trouble, well I could fix that, permanently.<br />
I went back into my room and got out my "tool box". I lit some candles, drew a circle and raised some hell. That night I stayed up late into the evening doing some "extra curricular" work for my occult studies class's I wont say what exactly was involved, Lets just say that a few chickens had to be sacrificed for the greater good, and in the morning I was positive that Gino would have a whole new outlook on the world. He definitely wouldn't be "playing" with any kid of girls anymore.<br />
<div id="masthead">That old black Magic</div><div></div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">Chapter 2</h3><div>Gino awoke restlessly the next morning, He could barely remember the dreams he had had but his dick was ramrod hard, he absently scratched his balls and slipped into the shower while other guys went down for breakfast. He went into the bathroom and stripped out of his boxers, he caught is reflection in the mirror and stood transfixed. He had always known he was a good-looking guy, but now.... He realized was gorgeous! He looked his body, for what seemed the first time. He noticed how well built he was, how his biceps bulged when unflexed, how his Pec's jutted out, how his thighs almost rubbed together. Then he noticed his dick. He had never really thought much about his dick. He had of course thought about satisfying it, but he had never really looked at it. He had always thought of his cock as just a tool, but now he just looked at it sticking straight out from his thick pubic hair and thought about how big and thick it was and how he was lucky to have such a big dick. He thought about how a big Dick made him sexy, just like his big muscles.<br />
Gino had always thought that guys who were obsessed with how they looked were pussies. Always posing and fussing with tier hair like a bunch of bitches. He didn't care how he looked. He didn't think about how sexy he was. Queers thought about shit like that. Thought about how studly they were, and strolled around like meat. He just went out and hooked up with a girl and took her home. But now he realized that he was Damn sexy.<br />
He curled his arm and flexed his bicep, to watch the large vein spread. That girl last night didn't know what she was missing. Maybe, he thought, if he didn't hide his ripped body behind all those baggy clothes she wouldn't have gone home. Maybe he should start dressing a little, just a little different.<br />
He got in the shower and began to wash off. Gino Never masturbated, he always thought he didn't have to, anyway jacking off was for guys who didn't get any play, or queers. However his dick was painfully hard for some reason, so he began to stroke it. He rubbed his hand against his big nipple and felt the weight of his right pec, he absently rubbed his torso and his tight washboard stomach and he almost, almost...touched his hard ass. . First he thought about banging the girl from last night but his thoughts kept coming back to how good he looked. How his dark chest hair covered his big pec's and made a trail down to his big thick legs... down to his big cock. His big thick cock. Gino moaned as his orgasm shook him and he shot his load. Gino never moaned, girls moaned... he must have just lost control.<br />
Gino got out of the shower put on a fresh pair of boxers, a pair of baggy jeans, and then slipped on a wife-beater undershirt. Instead of putting on a jacket or an over shirt, though, he just wore the T-shirt, it showed off his chest. It was being queer to show of his body, he was just proud of how good he looked.<br />
The others guys at breakfast seemed to notice something different but didn't say anything, Brian gave him an odd look, Eric just ignored him and that new guy...uh... Damien just gave him a weird smile.<br />
E still felt the frustrated horniness that he had felt last night, when that chick sent him packing. Actually he was really horny, a little more then average. So he rushed through breakfast and went right to the gym, where he could relax and work out some tension.<br />
Usually when Gino was at the gym he went in and did his work out and got out. He wasn't really into the gym scene and hardly knew any the guys at the gym. He usually worked out in a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt but today for some reason he forgot to pack his sweats. However Brian worked out this Gym too, So Gino just borrowed some clothes from his locker. All he found though was a pair of running shorts that would have fit Brian loosely, but they were almost uncomfortably tight on Gino. He felt exposed in them and a little self-conscious. His style was big baggy clothes that sagged off his muscular frame. He wasn't at all used to wearing revealing clothes, and all he had to work out in was a pair of to tight college running shorts and his undershirt. Even thought. Gino was feeling really queer with so much skin showing but he couldn't help himself from getting a little thrill from seeing his reflection in the locker room mirror as he walked away. For some reason just knowing that he looked so damn good in clothes he wasn't used to wearing made him feel good...Kind of sexy... But not sexy in a pretty-boy pussy kind way it wasn't like he was shaking his ass like a fag, if he was...which he wasn't.... It was like a stud...like a stud...<br />
He was working up a serious sweat on the leg press machine when he looked up and his exercise induced fog cleared for a second. Gino brushed the sweat soaked strands of black hair from his eyes and looked up at a tall blonde man who was on the machine opposite him. Now, most of the time Gino was at the gym the only people who generally catch his attention for even the shortest time were the girls in their sports bra's who worked out on the tread mills. But for some reason Gino stared down this man he had never met before.<br />
The man was tall about an inch taller then Gino himself. He had short cropped and styled hair with what looked like peroxide dyed blonde tips and dark brown roots. The guy was obviously spending a lot of time here at the gym because he was built like a model he had Perfect symmetry in his round tight muscles. His face was one of those pretty boy faces, the kind you see in an ad for polo shirts or some shit from the gap. The guy was tanned a deep gold, which was only accentuated by his tight white shirt. The material stretched taunt over his big pecs and when he did his leg lifts it would ride high on his stomach revealing his rock hard six pack. But the one thing Gino couldn't keep his eyes off of was his short. He watched as the man did his lifts and was almost mesmerized by the fluid motion of the smooth muscled thighs flex and unflexing. The guy had tight yellow biker pants that rode high up on his thick thigh and they really hugged the guy's package. Showing a distinct bulge in the dude's crouch and from Gino's point of view this guy should be proud to wear tight pants. For a split second Gino realized that he was scoping some other guys dick but shook his head and told himself that that wasn't what he was doin at all. It's just those were the kind clothes that he should have, Gino thought to himself.<br />
The other guy most have caught him staring cause he looked up and said "Hi!" In a friendly voice.<br />
Gino felt embarrassed being caught scoping out another guy...another guys clothes, he was only looking at the clothes he told himself. "You..." Gino answered nonchalantly.<br />
The other man looked at him a little askew but got off his machine and extended his hand to Gino. "I've seen you around before, your that guy who comes in, in all the sweats looking like rocky or something aren't ya?" he smiled broadly and unguardedly. "I just signed up here my name's Justin."<br />
Gino looked up at Justin's face and was struck by how blue his eyes were, He awkwardly took the extended hand and got up, "Mine's Gino I been comin' here awhile."<br />
"Yeah, I like it here they got top line equipment," Justin said as he stretched and held his wrists behind his head which made his biceps bulge and pushed his chest forward. Gino looked down and could see that Justin's nipples were rubbing hard against his chest and most importantly that he had a large nipple ring. Justin kept on extolling the virtues of the gym but Gino was only half listening because he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Justin's pierced nipple. "I have to find a ...girl with one of those..." Gino thought to himself. He had always thought guys and girls with all those piercings looked trashy and goofy assed, but for some reason it was Justin's nipple ring was making him rethink his position. Gino came back into the conversation just as Justin said "....yeah I did my work out so I'm just gonna go hit the showers..."<br />
"I was gonna do a little on the bench..." Gino said absently, trying to regain his bearings.<br />
"Oh really?" Justin said flashing his killer smile, "great I'll spot ya!"<br />
They walked over to the bench, Gino layed down on his back and Justin held the bar. Gino looked up and was inches away from the large bulge in Justin's Lycra shorts. He could see Justin's smiling face from behind the mounds of thick muscle on his chest. As Gino struggled to keep his mind focused on his workout he heard Justin's voice grow gruff with commands of "You can do it!" "C'mon!" and forceful "Gimme one more man!" by the time he was done his rep's Gino was face and shirt were soaked in sweat and his shorts were barely concealing a raging hardon. Gino was a little confused by the erection but explained it away by telling himself that "It must have been from the adrenaline."<br />
Justin and Gino headed toward the locker room and while they walked passed the gym regulars, mostly guys like Gino who only had membership so they could stay in shape and keep getting pussy on a regular basis, He noticed they were given him weird almost suspicious looks...he just shrugged it off.<br />
Justin went right for the showers shedding his clothes on the way; Gino tried hard not to notice the other man's nakedness. Being Naked with other men had never been a big deal for him but there was just something about Justine that made him look away. His dick began to soften as he had to peel off the running shorts, which he just noticed had rode so far up his thigh that the practically looked like speeds. Gino hoped he wasn't wandering around the Gym with them like that the whole time. He must have looked like a total queer...The other guys must have taken notice to his hardon too....<br />
Gino quickly stripped out the clothes, tossing his boxers into a pile on the floor. He made a brisk walk to the showers, trying to wash the humiliating experience of off him. He was so preoccupied with the thought of looking like a fairy in front of all the Gym guys that he didn't even notice Justin's presence until the other man spoke up, "So what are you doin today Gino?" Gino instinctively turned around and was face to face with Justin's wet slicked body. Gino stared openly at the picture perfect symmetry of this stud rock hard body. Gino noticed for the first time that Justin was completely denuded of his hair...everywhere. His rock hard cock sprung to life from a bald crotch.<br />
Gino turned quickly because he to was getting an erection. What's goin on? Gino's mind screamed at him, I'm not a fag. Why the fuck am I getting hard...Gino decided to start thinking about something else. He tried to force his mind to thoughts of Pussy and girls with big tits and...but he just kept picturing Justin's alluring naked body.<br />
"Damn man you sure are hairy...," Justin said from behind him. Gino turned around unthinking and lost himself in Justin's big blue eyes. Yesterday he would have beat the shit out of this other guy just for staring at him but Gino found himself staring right back with as much intensity...what was going on. "Yeah I guess I'm a real bear." Gino said as he tried to play it off. Justin just gave him a big smile and a knowing almost understanding look. Did I say something wrong? Gino thought.<br />
"Ya know if you want to do something about that I know the perfect place to clean you right up. " Justin said nonchalantly motioning to his statuesque hairless body.<br />
"Really I..." Gino began without thinking, "I mean no thanks man I gotta run."<br />
"Hot date?" Justin answered as he walked over to the shower nosel under which Gino was standing. Justin's soapy lathered body seemed to almost, but not quite brush about against Gino's big round biceps, sending shivers of all too powerful erotic pleasure up his spine. "Your lover must be real lucky."<br />
"I ain't got one I..uhm ..just got shot down last night."<br />
"You get turned down? In what universe?"<br />
Gino stared at Justin's handsome face and the Cheshire cat smile that broke it in half. "I gotta run..." Gino said as flew out of the showers and back to the lockers. He threw on his close while he was still wet. Man Justin's hot...What the fuck...Christ ...Uh shit I gotta get out of here and get home... I think that guy was flirting with me...I bet he wants to fuck...Fuck! I'll beat the shit out f him...<br />
Gino made out through the Gym and noticed for the second time how all the regulars looked after him. His shirt was really tight from being against his wet torso and he felt like strutting all the way to the main doors. He looked damn good with his muscles all pumped from his workout and his shirt clinging to him. The damn baggy Jeans ruined the effect though, they hi his legs and thighs and didn't even elude to the size his basket. N his way out he scoped out some of the guys who were working out, there was a big gorilla doing curls who looked like Ross from friends on steroids and then there was a young guy maybe 18wearing sweats that barely concealed his big thighs...probably a gymnast...Sure there were innumerable women in skimpy little aerobics outfits but for some reason they didn't catch his attention today. When he got in his car he was still rock hard. He was just going to go home and lye down and try to get his head on straight. However the erotic pull of his incredibly hard cock was too strong. He undid his belt pulled his boxers down past his cock and took his dick in both hands and began to stroke it like a madman. Bucking around in his front seat like a bitch in heat. He tried just to keep his mind blank, no girls, no tits, just his cock in his hands... but he kept seeing Justin's strong face and his tight pecs, and that firm bubble butt.<br />
"UGH!"<br />
Gino cried as he came all over Brian's Gym Shorts. Gino sat in the after glow for about 5 minutes letting the pressure drain out of him. He felt as if a flood had burst and now he could go on with the rest of his day in peace. He rolled up the sweaty and cum covered shorts and put them in his bag, but not before he took an almost involuntary sniff of their crotch. That was weird he thought.</div></div></div><div id="masthead">That Old Black Magic</div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="chapter">Chapter 3:</h3><div>He was about to pull away when he saw a guy in a pair of ass hugging Dockers and a blue T-shirt cross the parking lot. He recognized the bleach blonde tips of the man's hair. It was Justin. Justin caught his stare and waved. Then almost against his own will Gino got out of his car and said. "Hey is that invitation still open man?" What was he doing?<br />
"HUH?" Justin asked.<br />
Fuck he's gonna make me say it fuck..."You know to get m rug removed" He said with a forced chuckle.<br />
Justin's Eyes lit up, "Sure man! Her get In my car and we can go over together, I've been putting off getting a wax myself."<br />
A WAX? Isn't that what chicks do? Why the fuck would I get a WAX? He thought as he walked hesitantly to Justin's car. He climbed into the passenger seat and felt a little cramped in the two-person sports car. He was a little big for the seats. "How much is it." Gino said making awkward conversation.<br />
Justin jumped into the driver's seat and got himself situated but before he started the car he gave himself a long look in the mirror. "Don't worry man I got you!"<br />
"What?! You don't have to I got money..."<br />
"Don't worry just think of it as a "first time" gift." He said with a sly smile. Gino got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and all his instincts were telling him to get the fuck out of this guys car or at least slug the bitch but instead he LAUGHED!<br />
After about a 15-minute drive through the city they ended up at a saloon in a neighborhood Gino head never been in before. There were all kinds of weird stores and a lot of those rainbow signs you usually see Queers holding up like crucifixes. They walked into the saloon and a short and well-coifed little Hispanic man behind the counter asked if Justin had an appointment. He just smiled and slipped the man a bill. Gino couldn't see the quantity but from the guys face it most have been pretty big. The little guy showed them both to identical tables where two saloon women went to work removing all of Gino's excess body hair. Just think how I'll look with out any chest hair, or the little bit hat was creeping on to my back. I'll look nice and buff. And no one will really be able to notice a lot of guys shave their chests. I mean it's not like I'm gonna get rid of all my hair. I still got leg hair and I sure as hell ain't gonna shave my dick like Justin...Gino became so lost in the soothing relaxation of the procedure and the massage that accompanied it that he must have dozed off.<br />
"Your finished sir," the one girl said as she picked up her supplies and left the room. Gino opened his eyes groggily and looked over to see the still lump of Justin's body. Gino crawled laboriously off the table. He walked over t the full-length mirror that adorned the room so he could see the definition in his newly shaved pecs.<br />
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Gino grunted incredulously. The mirror reflected an olive skinned Italian guy with shaggy black hair and that was all that remained of what had been Gino Salvatore. His body was completely denuded of hair from pec to ankle he was a smooth as a baby. As he gazed in shock at his reflection he began to realize just how different he looked. Without his hair his muscles seemed almost bigger, more pronounced. His entire body seemed to have an almost round symmetry. The smooth skin on his thighs rolled sensuously with every move his leg made. His big pecs looked like it would take both hands to grab their mass. He also noticed how young he looked almost like an over grown manly version of himself at 19. He caught himself smiling at the reflection...<br />
"So you like it?" Justin asked from behind him.<br />
"I didn't know you were gonna give me the whole treatment." Gino said accusingly<br />
"I'm sorry I though that's what you wanted...," Justin said coming up from behind him. Justin laid his hand on Gino shoulder his face stared in the mirror right behind Gino's ear. But Gino was oblivious to him; he was to engrossed in staring at his new image in the mirror.<br />
"It makes everything look bigger..." Gino said in an almost daze as he flexed a biceps.<br />
"It certainly does," Justin said in a voice that just dripped anima lust. Justin who was also nude bent down and got on his knee's "Make EVERYTHING, look bigger that is." Gino was only shocked out of his contemplative revere for a second so he only had a quick warning of what Justin was about to do. He felt Justin's strong chin brush against his inner thigh as Justin kissed Gino clean shaven crotch, then in one quick swoop he engulf Gino's dick and took all of it's girth down to the pit of his throat. Gino cried out in pleasure and surprise. He braced himself against the table and let Justin go to work on his throbbing member. His mind tried to tell him to shove this faggot off his cock but he was to enthralled by raw sexual ecstasy. Justin tongued Gino's dick like a pro and gave him the best blowjob he had ever had. Justin would tease him by taking him to the brink and pulling back and then taking him to the brink again. They went on for what seemed t be an eternity. Gino began to buck in Justin's mouth and realized that he was rubbing the Nipple ring on Justin's pec. How had he been doing that? His other hand was running through Justin's hair guiding the man's head onto his cock. Gino stiffened his grip on Justin's head and thrust his hips into the other man's face and came with more fury and tremulous passion then he ever had came before. Justin swallowed load after load of cum until it began to leak passed his lips.<br />
Justin finally let go off his hold on his dick and stood up. Gino's whole body seemed to sag against the table, he was completely spent. Justin put his hand on the back of Gino's head and before he knew it His lips were locked with the other man's. He could feel Justin's tongue exploring his mouth and something else...it was the taste of his own cum. But instead of pushing the queer off of him he thought it was only polite to at least thank him with a kiss. So the two of them spent another 15 minutes in an impassioned session of kissing.<br />
When they finally emerged into the outer Saloon with their clothes back on. They went to leave but the Little Hispanic man insisted they stay. "Where do you think you're going girl?" He said to Gino. "You're not done yet! We still have to do something with that diseased haircut of yours! Honey, its time to put this old dog down her day is done." The black clad hairdresser said as he sat Gino unwillingly down in a chair. "Lets see...hmmm...something butch?"<br />
"WHAT?" Gino said suspiciously as the little Spanish man wetted his somewhat long hair.<br />
"No...I know, don't worry babe you'll Die!" and then he proceeded to snip and cut and style in flurry of action. He had just finished cutting about half of the length of Gino's hair when he began to apply all kinds of chemicals that smelled like battery acid. He wetted his hair again and continued styling.<br />
"DONE!" he exclaimed and used all his strength to move Gino's large frame to the center mirror. For the second time that day Gino didn't recognize himself. Most jarring was that his jet-black hair was now completely yellow blonde. Where it once was a deep Italian black it now was chemically peroxide blonde. And not only that but it much shorter. Ha had a Roman style cut short and tight but he had styled the bangs up so they stood up and out. Half his hair lay in pools of black strands around him. He looked like something out of Spin magazine.<br />
"You look damn good!" Justin said into his ear. Gino was still unsure but he did like the way his dyed hair contrasted with his black eyebrows and olive skin.<br />
As they were leaving Gino was lost in thought trying to reason out what was happening to him but every time he really thought about it his mind would cloud over and he would want to look in the nearest mirror again. He saw Justin hand money to the Spanish guy, and he started to protest but Justin just smiled and said, "Nothing's to good for my baby."<br />
Your what? Gino thought. But he was interrupted by the stylist who came over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, "Have fun tonight babe!" the he swished off and for some incredibly fucking odd reason He noticed how good the guy's little Latino ass looked in those leather pants.<br />
"What did he mean. Have fun tonight?" Gino asked once they were back on the street.<br />
"Oh I just told him we might go to a club or something later, to scope out the scene." Justine answered dismmisively.<br />
Gino felt a surge of uncommon excitement. "Man, I'm all about goin to a club tonight and getting my swerve on!"<br />
Justin's big suggestive smile reappeared. "Alright!" then he looked at Gino critically. "But it's getting kinda late and I don't think you should go out in just a pair Jeans and a T-shirt."<br />
Gino looked at his reflection in the shop glass and realized that he did look kind of ragged. The man who stared back at him eyed him critically too. The styled blonde hair and his hairless mounds of pec muscle that practically seemed to burst from the wife-beater T-shirt, made Gino think that the reflection was someone else, someone real sexy and horny. A big stud...but someone else. The T-shirt showed off his Abs and pec's and contrasted nicely with his skin, making him looking even bigger but it was a little underdressed. And the pants were just to damn big they didn't show anything and they made him look like some no class hood kid. The pants definitely had to go; he wondered why he ever even dressed in them to begin with. "I guess I could go home and change...."<br />
"No I have the perfect Idea." Justin said as he grabbed Gino by his large hand. Gino felt a weird sense of delight at Justin's touch. His heart almost skipped a beat and he got all queasy. He let Justin lead him down the crowded street like a puppy dog on his arm. Gino was so enthralled at the notion of Justin holding him that he hardly noticed his behavior, somewhere at the back of his mind the very little part of him that was still resisting and could now see the changes for what they were screamed, Fuck this! I'm not a Queer I don't what to be some kind of faggot bitch, I'm a man! I ain't gonna let some guy fuck with my head I'm a... But by now that voice was quite far off and easily ignorable. And even that voice that last resort defense was slowly being subverted because now a secret hidden part of the man that once was Gino the skirt chasing Massagonist Guido who treated women like whores, dressed like a street thug, who was ready to have a bar room brawl at the drop of a dime and would beat up an innocent roommate just cause he was gay, that man was welcoming the changes.<br />
Gino blindly let himself be lead by Justin's gentle touch and didn't even notice it when they ended up in front of a store that looked like it specialized in rave clothes. They walked into the store and before Gino could stop himself he took Justin's hand. He was holding this guy's hand! Justin and Gino browsed through clothes that were of any of a thousand shades of the rainbow and had as little cloth as humanely possible. Gino stayed in his contemplative fog as Justin went through the racks picking up and discarded clothing at will. He just let him take over and sat back and watched. His mind was racing a mile a minute with questions and sensations. What was he doing was Justin really interested him. Were they together? He would pause every now and again to sneak a quick glance at Justin's tight ass struggle against the confines of his Dockers. What a fine ass. I just want to take in my hands and squeeze it and stroke my tongue up and down each cheek, Gino felt his cock stiffening under his thoughts. Oh yeah and wants my ass too I know he does I've seen him looking at me... and as they crissed crossed the store Gino made a point to show off his body to Justin stretching and flex every chance he got. But still under his now conscious mind lying dormant was the characteristics of the old Gino still fighting to get back in control. He would snap out of brushing his hand across Justin's taunt chest and realize what he was doing and recoil, I'm not gay, I'm not... but he would eventually go right back and enwrap him in a muscular embrace.<br />
"Here try this on and we'll se how you look."<br />
Gino entered one of the dressing rooms in a daze. Slipping of his baggy shorts he turned around to put on the shorts when he saw that there was a pair of underwear for him. He instinctively pulled the strap of his over grown boxers and pulled them off. After careful closer examination of the underwear Gino was more then a little weary about putting them on. Were there was cloth (which wasn't much) it was violent colors of neon orange and green. At first glance he thought they were briefs or at least bikini briefs...but they it was a thong. A pouch in front for his dick and just a strap for his ass. The reservations against putting this on were over flowing in abundance, and Gino had no intention what so ever of keeping them on but...he might as well see what they looked like. Gino rapidly extradited himself from the baggy formless boxers he was wearing. It took all of about three seconds to slide the three straps of material on. "Shit" Gino said as he saw his almost completely nude form. He was damn hot; all smooth and cut with only this thong between him and the world. They were small so they made his already prominent cock stick out farther; kind of propping it up between is thighs. They showed of his ass best. The thin strap dissected his big meaty cheeks of muscle making his bubble butt ass looked like to plump pistons when he moved. Without warning he started dancing, right there in the dressing room. Watching his body ripple and flex as he moved to music that only he could hear. He stayed like that mesmerized by his own erotic body and movement getting harder and harder at himself. How could I never know what a Stud I was! I am one hot bitch! He slipped into a pair of boots that seemed a little high, the pair of shorts and a meche T-shirt he finished up by slipping on some jewelry Justin had handed him and turned around.<br />
If he could have found his voice right there he would have screamed in shock, and terror. Gino Salvatore had totally disappeared. He didn't recognize the man before him at all. Except that he did recognize him. Before him stretched in the floor length mirror was a man who obviously spent all his waking time at the gym, before he had only thought of himself as handsome enough to get women but this man was a muscular sex god. With bulging arms, jutting mounds of pec muscle and thighs thick enough to crack bricks. He was a guy so obsessed with his muscles that he had shaved his entire body just to accentuate his raw male sexuality. The guy in the mirror was also obviously gay. To begin with he had on a pair of black shiny boots that reached from his foot to his hip, the upper part f the man's hairless thigh bulged flagrantly out of the top of the boot over exposing the region between the boot and the skimpy lycra shorts he was also sporting. The shorts were little less then Speedo's with cuffs. They were fire engine red and obscenely called attention to the huge pouch of his crotch, outlining every contour of his blatantly erect cock. The shirt, which barely contained his powerful torso, was a much bigger statement. It was see through and clung to his body like a second skin, revealing his washboard Abs, his incredible shoulders and of course his dark round, engorged nipples. His arms burst from the short white sleeves making them look like swelled guns. But worst of all was the words emblazoned in bold face on the shirt, "Am I Str8 or not? Only my Lover knows", and then on the back it read, "but HE'll never tell."<br />
Gino looked away from the man's overtly exaggerated suggestive clothing into his face. The short peroxide blonde hair and almost luscious face seemed to scream agreement more then the clothing. Two hoops hung from booth ears and he had a small gold chain with the word BRAT as a pendant.<br />
Gino looked at the gay man, the club kid, the humpy queer boy he had somehow suddenly become and for a moment it was enough to shock him back into being his old self. Suddenly the Gino of the night before had return the mad ass Gino who had been irate when the girl he had deemed worthy to use his dick turned him down, the hard drinking ghetto wanna be whose hardcore masculinity was the fiber of his being. He stared in horror. First at the queer ass clothes and faggoty boots that looked like they should adorn some bitch go-go dancer not a man. He couldn't even understand what the writing on the shirt meant but he knew it wasn't good. Then he realized all his hair was gone. The soft mat that usually covered his chest had disappeared leaving his over developed pecs to look like tit.s even the trail that lead to the bush around his cock was gone. And from they way the little shorts dipped down, revealing an all to smooth abdomen he could guess that his bush had disappeared as well. The most jarring part however was when he saw what had happened to his hair. His long black hair was gone in it's place was some pansy ass over styled BLONDE crew cut! Someone had DYED his hair!<br />
He immediately began to undress but as he went to pull off his shirt his tense vein covered hand brushed against one f his already sensitive nipples. This sent a shock wave of erotic vibrations through his body that sent his mind reeling again. Before he knew it he was thumbing the nipple and feeling the mass and firmness of his chest. He began rubbing the smooth pillars of muscles in his thighs and began to caress the rock solid engorged dick that was encased in the skintight shorts. He felt so sexy, so erotic, like he turn ANYONE on. He could fuck anyone he wanted. He was so hot and sexed up he could just pull someone of the street and fuck and suck till dawn. He was a stud. The kind of hunk that made people on the street instantly wet or better... Hard. He was gay. He was queer. And he mother fucking loved it.<br />
<div id="masthead"><div class="sitename"><a href="http://www.mcstories.com/index.html">The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive</a></div><div class="nav"><a href="http://www.mcstories.com/Titles/index.html">Titles</a> · <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/Authors/index.html">Authors</a> · <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/Tags/index.html">Categories</a> · <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/ReadersPicks/index.html">Readers' Picks</a> · <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/FAQ.html">FAQ</a> · <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/WhatsNew.html">What's New</a> · <a href="http://www.mcforum.net/yabbse/index.php">Message Board</a> · <a href="http://www.asstr.org/donations.html">Make a Donation</a></div><div class="author">Author: <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/Authors/ONIX.html">ONIX</a></div><div class="storyindex">Story: <a href="http://www.mcstories.com/OldBlackMagic/index.html">That Old Black Magic</a></div></div><div class="arrows"><a href="http://www.mcstories.com/OldBlackMagic/OldBlackMagic3.html">← </a>(4 of 4) </div><div id="text"><div class="body"><h3 class="title">That Old Black Magic</h3><h3 class="chapter">Chapter 4</h3><h3 class="chapter">Chapter four:</h3><div>Gino knew that if he stepped out of the dressing room dressed as he was, there was never any going back. He even realized that he had somehow been changed, and thought that if he somehow could get back in his clothes and back to the house he would be able to somehow return to who he used to be. But instead of changing he walked proudly form the dressing room flaunting his gorgeous Bod. He strutted through the store like a sexual predator daring everyone to lust after him. Justin was staring at a magazine intently and didn't see his approach. Gino smacked the magazine out of his hand and grabbed Justin by his pecs, rubbing his hands over the hard tits hidden behind the blue fabric. Justin rolled his shoulders back and moaned in pleasure. "Damn you look HOT!"<br />
""I know..." Gino growled. And then he sealed his fate. Lustfully with more passion then he ever felt in his life he grabbed Justin by the back of his neck and deeply kissed him There strong jaws pressed together and Gino explored his mouth with his tongue roving around sensually like he never wanted to break the connection.<br />
"Hey save some for later, baby. We still have to go to the club." Justin laughed archly as Gino sucked on his neck. Gino felt Justin's hands run through his hair as he kissed the other mans strong neck. He had never been so sexual with anyone, never initiated so much touching and kissing. It felt good to have man touching him and it felt good to put his sensuous Italian lips on another mans rough tan skin. After about twenty or thirty minutes of hardcore lip action Gino and Justin made their way to a club about 6 or 7 blocks away it was late and Gino was feeling the full force of his new attitude toward sex and men...and espechialy sex WITH men. The club was full of hot guys grinding against each other and wearing next to nothing. Gino was in heaven. He danced with any number of guys groping being groped, He was either feeling up some guys firm ass cheeks or was having his ass smacked in rhythm to the music. He was in ecstasy.<br />
He even saw the Hispanic man from the Saloon, he was wearing tight leather pants and nothing else. He had an impressive body and a number of interesting tattoos. He introduced himself propperly as Carlos and the two of them began to groove together for at least an hour. As they danced together Gino decided to grab and rub the ass he had admired before. "Shit Bitch! I could have sworn that you were straight when you came in to the shop today," he said as Gino held his neck and massaged their groins together as they danced to the throbbing club music.<br />
"What?" Gino asked trying to hear over the music.<br />
"Nothing, I'm just glad your strictly dickly!" Carlos said with a smile.<br />
Gino smiled "Strictly Dickly!"<br />
When he finally stopped dancing with the orgy of well built men on the floor and had collected all the phone numbers he was offered, he was sweat covered and laying between Justin's legs in a big soft chair. Justin smiled at him and Gino took this as an opportunity to make love to the hard cock concealed behind Justin's Khaki pants. He tongue bathed the hard outline without even realizing what he was doing. Justin grabbed Gino's nipple forcefully and pulled the man to his feet. Gino winced in pleasure and pain, "let's go back to my place," Justin said.<br />
Gino gave a pleased nodded and squeezed his own bulging dick in agreement. Justin and Gino talked pensively on the car ride to Justin's both to turned on with anticipation to make any real conversation. When they finally made their way up the stairs, which was a feat of skill considering that both of them couldn't manage to keep their hands of each other?<br />
They were in the apartment for all of about two seconds when Justin grabbed him by his muscled butt. Pulling him close and ramming his tongue into his mouth. Gino let the man rape his lips and then finally gave in and began to slide his tongue in and out of the other man's mouth. Gino felt Justin's hand squeeze his round ass through the Lycra and grab his cheeks in both hands spreading them apart.<br />
Gino put a tentative hand on the other man's ass and felt his strong thighs. Stroking the sweaty chunks of meat while his dick ached behind the confining shorts. Feeling the smooth muscle made him horny as hell. The man's hand grasped Gino's and brought it away from his thigh and paced it onto the hard bulge of his dick. Gino's hand awkwardly cupped the man's balls. He just embraced feeling the warmth emanate from the clinging briefs and massaging the sweaty balls. Then Gino slid his hand inside Justin's Khaki's and into his skimpy underwear and fondled this strange man's cock. Justin obviously enjoyed the hand job because his big shoulders rolled back in pleasure and his deep blue eyes flared with undisguised lust. And the fact that Gino was turning this man on just made him impossibly harder.<br />
They stayed this way pressing their strong jaws together and groping each other forcefully until Justin broke the embrace. He grabbed a hold of Gino's T-shirt and pulled it over his head forcefully ripping it in the process. "Hey" he began to protest but he just pressed his lips against Gino's to shut him up.<br />
"You won't need it." He said as he then began to kiss his way down Gino's developed torso pausing to nibble tentatively at his nipple's He grabbed a hold of the shorts.<br />
He opened several snaps on either side of the shorts and they just fell away revealing the thongs he had somehow manage to put on. Gino made a reflexive move to cover himself then stopped in embarrassment. Justin looked appraisingly at the thong underwear and then stripped of his own pants to reveal a pair of identically cut red thongs. They were a perfect match. He grabbed Gino by the ass again and whispered into his ear, "good taste!" then he dropped to his knees and began to lick His sac through his briefs. It was the most erotic thing Gino had ever felt. He moaned in pleasure and involuntarily put his hands in the other man's hair. Grabbing big tufts and messaging his neck. Then somehow they were both on the floor and Gino was face to face with the other man's basket. He sucked and licked at the man's package. Justin ran his hands all over Gino's over developed thighs appreciating them the way only another man who had slaved at a gym would. Then he ripped off his skimpy underwear. Gino hardly noticed it because right after that Justin's mouth descended on his rigid cock.<br />
He turned until he was facing Gino, all the while his head bobbing up and down on the once straight man's shaft. His tongue slid up and down the thick cock and his lips enclosed it in a cavern of wet warmth. Gino's barely contained orgasm exploded intensely out of him in a matter of minutes. Justin the consummate pro took his entire load in, not wasting a drop. After his loud moans of pleasure subsided he climbed across his body and kissed him powerfully. Then he got up and got something across the room. Gino drank in the sight of the naked man walking casually away from him. His powerful hips moving in rhythm and his engorged organ swinging languidly before him. He closed his eyes and smiled contentedly. He was jolted out of his revere by the feeling of something cold being rubbed on his ass. Justin kneeled between his spread eagle legs and was rubbing some kind of Lube all into his hole.<br />
Gino's virgin tensed as Justine began to gently and purposefully finger fuck him. The experience was so intense that Gino just gasped, it was so hot feeling his hole being penetrated by this man firm hand. It was the realization that his ass which had always been of little to no concern to him, was now bringing such new and erotic pleasure that made him want to retreat. He had been sucked off twice today that was enough it was time to go home. "No way man, I ain't gonna get fucked!" but as he went to sit up Justin bent forward and pushed him down.<br />
"Oh no lover boy tonight your goin all the way, we're gonna break that straight cherry so you won't ever wanna go back." Then he leaned in and sucked on Gino's right peck and then let his tongue run down the valley of his Abs Gino leaned back down lost in the sensation. He vaguely felt it as Justin stroked his thighs and then hoisted both of his legs onto his shoulders. He felt the felt the ghost sensation of two fingers lubing up his asshole and then he heard Justin grunt and felt the cock head begin to squeeze between his virgin cheeks. They both moaned in anticipation.<br />
Then he truly came out of his fog of sensuality with a start. He might be a gay man now but he was still a man. He was supposed to do the fucking. He was supposed to be on top pounding like animal, not on his back whimpering like a bitch. He had always been thee guys guy the man whose masculinity was never a question. It was one thing to appreciate another mans body it was quite another to spread your legs and get fucked like a woman.<br />
Gino was putting his hands up to push Justin away when the man thrust his impressive cock up his hot ass. Gino yelled out in pain that quickly turned to unimagined ecstasy. Justin ramroded him using all his tightly packed muscle to rip his new lover apart. And his new lover loved every minute of it.<br />
Justin's strong body fucked all his reservations away. He lay moaning and begging for the rough hard savage fuck that was being administered to his well-defined young body. He wanted it bad. His legs bucked, his head turned from side to side and his toes curled up tight. He licked his lips and squeezed his eye's shut tight. All he could think about was how good it felt to have another man's hard cock crammed up his ass. He moved to the rhythm of this other man's forceful fuck.<br />
His New Sexual partner grunted deeply over him, "Beg for it straight boy. Beg for my big dick. Tell me how bad you want it up your tight ass. Tell me how queer you are."<br />
Gino needed no prodding even though, before the most he had ever said during sex was "take it bitch," "FUCK ME!" he yelled out as he took hold of his rigid cock in both fists. "Fuck me hard Justin!" He moved with reckless sexuality thrashing on the floor uninhibited. "Split my Ass! Fuck my ass! Give it to me man! Fuck me stud!" Stud? Had he called another man a stud? Wasn't he supposed to be a stud? At least he had always thought himself one. A lady's man A jock with a big cock ready for a willing pussy. Now however, he realized that Justin was the jock and he was the willing pussy and with that thought his legs tensed and he sent a shower of cum erupting on to Justin's chest like an exploding volcano.<br />
He gave one last hard thrust and roared as he hit his own orgasm flooding Gino's ass for the first time with hot cum. He collapsed on top of Gino and their sweaty exhausted bodies pressed together passionately. Gino brought up his legs and rubbed his cut calves against Justin's smooth butt and legs. As he ran his hands down His well sculpted back, he kissed his chest and sucked on his nipple and the ring that dissected it. Then eventually they both fell asleep in their sexual embrace.</div><div class="mindthegap">I had just gotten home late from a party and was making myself some coffee so that I could manage to make it to my early morning class that was going to start in all of about three hours. I was standing at the coffeepot in full zombie mode when I heard keys in the door. I seriously considered letting whom ever it was screwing around out there wait but instead I, or some strange reason, felt a twinge of human decency and went to get the door. And was I ever glad I did. I flung opened the door and standing in the door way was a bodybuilder with the face of a blonde Antonio Sabato Jr. wearing only club boots and spandex shorts. He had bleached blonde hair and if I may say so the biggest most inviting nipples I have seen in my life. Happy Birthday to me! Apparently the Tahitian love spell I had cast two years ago was finally starting to pay off.<br />
The sex god stranger said quietly, "thank you, Damien," and brushed past me right into the house.<br />
I had a moment of sobriety and took another look at this dream man from some club rag. "Gino?" I asked.<br />
"Yes," he answered sitting down heavily on the couch. His shorts kept getting lost behind the mass of his thighs.<br />
"Oh my..." I said aloud as I marveled at my own handy work. In the space of one day I had taken A womanizing Thug whose biggest aspirations in life were to wear baggy Tommy Jeans until he was thirty and fuck at least half of the female population of the eastern sea board, and turned him into the gay Icon of Erotica that I saw before me. Now I just wondered if the changes were just cosmetic or had they penetrated to the...(if you'll pardon the pun) ...Bone. "Gino what in the name of the seven levels of Dante's inferno happened to you?" I asked sitting down. I put my hand on his muscular shoulder. He had his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.<br />
"I don't know it's just that...today's been really confusing." He seemed really distraught.<br />
Uh-oh I hope he's not going to have a mental break down or something because that would seriously hurt my chances of getting into a good Grad school.<br />
"Well it looks like you made a couple of really severe Fashion choices today...but hair gross out and..." I tried to stifle a laugh, "it gross back too."<br />
"What? No that's not it," he said as he got up and walked to the nearest mirror. "No I like the new look and everything." He continued to admire his reflection and I continued to note the subtle and not so subtle changes in Gino. His voce was no longer the harsh bullying voice of someone who constantly relied on intimidation to get his way instead it was softer gentler more vulnerable. He had also lost most of his street slang. And most noticeably he walked with a sexual strut that was so inviting all he had to do was take three steps and I was hard as a spike.<br />
He fussed with his short spiky blonde bangs frustratedly "It's just I met someone who I really fell for and they don't want me."<br />
Curiouser and Curiouser...<br />
"Really?"<br />
"Yea, I met this..." he looked at me trying to stem the tide of emotion that was ready to come and failed.<br />
"If you met some man, Gino I won't judge you." I said in my best impersonation of the Mom on the Brady bunch, Carol always did seem so damn convincing.<br />
"Thank god." He said relieved. "I met this guy at the Gym and I thought we were getting along and that you know that he wanted to be with me but after we got back to his place and..." his voice trailed off. So, Guido is no longer a stranger to Roman Greco wresting. He just went up in my estimation. Of course it was impossible to go any farther down.<br />
"Well after we spent the night together, he told me he had an early meeting in the morning and that it would be best if I left." Gino began to become upset. Like Really upset. He was getting all misty and his big Italian lips were pouting in loss. "I asked him when he wanted to get together again and he said he'd call me. Then I told him he didn't have my number. He said that that should give me a clue." The big lug was heart broken he must have fell hard for whatever like man got to fuck his gorgeous Italian ass. "So I just left, I mean I was so pissed!"<br />
By now I was patting him on his enormous back and saying platitudes like "It's okay," and "Don't let it get you down."<br />
He turned to me and put his hand on my leg and I most have had the dopiest grin of delight on my face, "The worst part was I had to walk clear across town to get my car dressed like this."<br />
And yes I did form that mental picture.<br />
"You can't believe the things people said to me." Gino said in a pained tone. "I know it's hard to be gay sometimes."<br />
"Tell me about it," Gino said in agreement. I almost grinned in triumph. Then this 200-pound mountain of male muscle put his hand up like a ghetto queen from Rikki Lake and said, "Well fuck them! And ya know what Fuck Justin!"<br />
"You did." I said quietly with an arched eyebrow.<br />
"You know what Damien, you're an Ok guy. Hey, I got a date with this guy Carlos tomorrow. You wannna go Clubbin with us." Gino said excitedly.<br />
"No thanks I'll pass."<br />
"Your loss." Then he said good night and went up to his room. I watched as his wide back, shaved blonde head, and delicious ass disappeared beyond his door.<br />
So, My little tampering with the forces of the universe had somehow made Gino over into a club kid obsessed with falling in love with the right cock? Not only that but he got the same treatment he doled out to every girl he ever dated. I mean I'm a sucker for Irony but when Justice is this poetic you have to just appreciate it for all it's worth.<br />
You know I bet I could get a Thesis out of this.<br />
And that thought Lead me to the other two roommates... namely Eric. Eric, the Man in training just waiting to take over and become another straight white male enforcing the quid pro quo of society. Another Yuppie. Another Benz owning, white bread, over groomed, over dressed, over concerned with his position in life and with his own personal power, money grubbing Fat cat. And that would be such a waste because he did have a kind of boyish handsomness. Maybe I should show Eric how the other half live, you know real men, salt of the earth. I wander how Eric would look with a full beard a flannel shirt and a Mac truck?<br />
Screw the class I have to go to...I think there's magic in the air. And with that I went into my room and began the second round.</div></div></div><div class="arrows"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>ONIXhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12435936555163221123noreply@blogger.com0