Note: Again, there is more to this story than you might guess. I think because the anniversary of my father’s death is fast approaching I am drawn to contemplating the nuances of relationships and how sometimes unexpected people ‘father’ us and sometimes we have to be our own father.

PART 1

The examination room smelled of antiseptic and Mal wrinkled his nose, stifling a sneeze.

“So, bro,” his big brother, Jaz, was saying in his characteristic smart-ass tone, “ready to be a man finally?” He quickly leaned out of the way of Mal’s punch, laughing.

“Fuck off,” Mal said, hating his high voice. At almost sixteen, his voice still hadn’t broken and the other…signs of puberty had likewise failed to manifest in his body. He was only a year younger than Jaz but more than a head shorter and at least forty pounds lighter. He cast a sidelong glance at his brother, envying his burgeoning muscles, plentiful body hair, carefree manner, and masculine good looks. In contrast, Mal looked like a little boy.

And this was precisely why he was here at the clinic: The place specialized in hormonal disorders and had come highly recommended by Doug Haslett, the best friend and former platoon mate of Mal and Jaz’s father.

“Yep, it’s finally time for my little bro’s balls to drop,” Jaz said to himself, clearly delighting in pushing Mal’s buttons.

Mal was taking another swing at him when the door opened and a woman entered. Jaz instantly straightened up in his chair, planting his feet wide and squaring his shoulders. Casting a glance at Mal, he stood up and extended his hand to her while executing a little bow. Mal watched with disgust; Jaz was always on the make!

The woman was looking down at her tablet computer and didn’t notice Jaz’s hand until she bumped into it. She jumped, startled, and gave him a quizzical look before reaching out and tentatively shaking his hand.

“Jaz Riggs at your service, ma’am,” his brother drawled, a broad smile on his face as he squeezed her hand, letting his touch linger a little too long.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” the woman said, dropping his hand and looking perturbed. “I’m Dr. Chahda. May I ask why you’re here?” She looked over to Mal and back to Jaz. “I was expecting Mr. or Mrs. Riggs to accompany the patient.”

Jaz was undeterred by the doctor’s brushoff. Pushing his shaggy, brown bangs away from his eyes and thrusting his chest outward, he stated, “I am Mal’s, ahem, bigger and stronger and fully mature brother as you can see and my mom asked me to be here with him. She’s out in the waiting room.”

Doctor Chahda wrinkled her brow. “Mal? Who’s that?”

“Tourmaline. Get it? Tour-Mal-ine,” Jaz corrected as Mal squirmed. “His name is ‘Tourmaline’. Our parents named us after precious gemstones. He’s Tourmaline and I’m Jasper.”

“Jasper isn’t a precious gem,” Dr. Chahda commented and Jaz wilted. He was about to utter a retort when she turned her back on him and faced Mal, asking, “Mal? You prefer to go by Mal?”

Mal nodded, sinking back sullenly in his chair. Being in this place was bad enough but having a woman doctor was beyond horrible. It took everything he had not to bolt out the door. 

Dr. Chahda registered his discomfort and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Mal. You’re in the right place. I promise to make this as easy on you as possible.”

He studied the bland pattern in the carpeting, refusing to look at her, and Jaz sighed. “As you can imagine, the little guy is pretty embarrassed by his…condition. Fortunately, he has me to–”

“So, Mal,” Dr. Chahda said, cutting Jaz off. “It says here that you’re sixteen years old. Is that correct?”

He nodded again, refusing to speak.

“And,” she continued, looking down at her tablet, “your MRI scan revealed no signs of a tumor or other growth that might be affecting your body’s development.”

Mal moved his foot across the carpet, tracing the curve of a garish purple vine woven into the fabric.

“Your blood panel is good except…” He looked up at the word and then away. Jaz took a breath next to him but the doctor continued before he could say anything, “for the absence of normal levels of androgens.”

He looked at her again questioningly and her face softened. “Male hormones. Your hormonal levels are consistent with those of a preadolescent boy.”

Mal sighed and slouched down further in the chair. He could have told her that. Shit, every other kid in his entire fucking high school could have told her the same thing. And they had been saying just that, only much more cruelly, for the past three years. After riding high as the most popular boy in elementary school, his reputation had plummeted when his voice refused to change and his body remained undeveloped. At sixteen, he was still the size of a sixth grader. The size of sixth grader in every fucking way.

Dr. Chahda held her tablet against her chest and settled against the small sink behind her. She was, Mal realized then, quite beautiful and young. Her long, black hair was tied back but a stray lock had escaped and framed her cheek perfectly. Her eyes were both intelligent and kind. He flushed as he realized he’d been staring and looked away.

“Based on your test results, I would say that you’re the perfect candidate for our services,” she said brightly and he perked up only to tense again when she held out a white dressing gown, announcing, “I’ll leave the room and you can take off your clothes and put this on. When I come back, I will take your vitals and do a physical examination. Then we can talk about treatment options.”

Even though he’d sort of known that the doctor would have to examine him, Mal was unprepared for it and was preparing to bolt when Jaz surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked over and Jaz smiled, squeezing his shoulder and saying, “It’s Ok, bro. You can do this.” Dr. Chahda had already turned and was closing the door behind her. Jaz picked up the gown and held it out to Mal, urging, “Go on. Take off your clothes. I’ll turn around if you prefer.”

Mal shook his head and lifted his t-shirt over his head, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to see his concave chest and tiny nipples. He lowered his trousers and stepped out them, folding them neatly and placing them on the sink. Hesitating only a moment, he yanked down his boxers and, taking the proffered gown from his brother, wrapped it around his slim waist and narrow shoulders. When he was done, he stood there shivering, eyes downcast.

“Dad will be so proud of you,” Jaz murmured. “I can’t wait to tell him when we visit him later.”

Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door and Dr. Chahda’s voice called out, “Mal, are you ready?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jaz replied and the doctor entered the room, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

“Let’s get your height and weight first,” she said, indicating a scale in the corner.

Mal sighed heavily and stepped on. The needle balanced at just over one hundred pounds. He looked away as Dr. Chahda made note of this and then lifted the bar to measure his height. He already knew how tall he was and didn’t bother looking up. At five feet even, he was by far the smallest guy in his class. In fact, every girl was taller than he was as well. It was beyond humiliating.

“I see,” the doctor said, keeping her voice light. She tapped at her tablet for a moment before commenting, “Your height and weight puts you in the lower third standard deviation for males your age. Definitely a candidate for our newest therapy.”

“What therapy is that?” Jaz queried. “I’m not gonna let you do experiments on my brother!”

Dr. Chahda looked up, ignoring Jaz, and instead turned to Mal. “Mal, do you have a voice?” He nodded and she sighed. “Good. I am not going to proceed unless you start talking.”

“I don’t have anything to say.” The sound of his high, reedy voice was embarrassing and he closed his mouth and hung his head.

The doctor clicked her tongue. “Ah, so you can talk for yourself! One word of advice: Just because your brother is bigger and stronger and more developed doesn’t mean you can’t take charge. The first step in becoming a man is behaving like one.” Mal and Jaz bridled at this but this only caused the doctor to smirk. Before Mal could muster up a retort, she held up her gloved hands, saying, “Time to get down to business. Lift up your gown.”

What followed was the most humiliating experience of Mal’s young life. The doctor poked and prodded and measured his most private regions with a coldly clinical demeanor. It didn’t help that Jaz was there the whole time offering a running commentary complete with sound effects. Doctor Chahda finally tossed him out of the room when he snickered as she was measuring Mal’s shriveled penis.

After she was finished and Mal was dressed, she let him back in, shaking her head. “Next time, I will insist that an adult accompany you.” When Jaz puffed up his chest at this, she rolled her eyes, saying, “Why don’t you spare me the outrage and get your mother? She needs to sign off on Mal’s treatment.”

***

The treatment turned out to be a series of four shots three months apart. He had to go back to the clinic every week for a month after the first shot to be sure there were no side effects but the Food and Drug Administration had signed off on the procedure, noting only rare and minor problems. He could scarcely believe it when Dr. Chahda told him that he could expect to grow at least an inch every month and that, within a year, he would finally attain normal height, weight, and size for a boy his age.

He left the clinic in a daze, oblivious to Jaz’s sly asides and rude jokes. He almost forgot to thank the doctor after he had gotten dressed and joined his mother back out in the waiting room. His hip was a little sore from the injection and his ego was bruised from being stripped and fondled, but mostly he was incredulous that it had been so easy. He’d expected to endure far worse and thought he’d be facing painful surgeries or invasive procedures. But, no! Just four shots! Could it really be so easy?

On the car ride back to their house, he lay in the back seat sensing into his body, trying to decide if he felt any different. He gazed at his skinny arms and legs and imagined he could see them already growing stronger, more muscular. He concentrated on his crotch and fantasized that his tiny balls and miniscule cock were slowly filling up, engorging, becoming bigger and heftier. In the end, they did become engorged but this was mostly due to the erection he got imagining a man-sized cock and balls swinging between his thighs.

Their dad’s army buddy and family friend, Doug Haslett, was standing in their kitchen, drinking a glass of orange juice, when they got home. Dressed in running attire, he was wearing a pair of nylon shorts, a tank top, and cap. A short, blond, bearded man in his late twenties, Doug radiated an infectious confidence and positivity that the family sorely needed as they struggled to deal with Mal and Jaz’s father’s disability. Doug had been injured in the same firefight in Afghanistan that had left the elder Riggs, his sergeant, in a coma with brain damage. In fact, Doug and Sergeant Chris Riggs had been the only survivors of the ambush, something that helped explain Doug’s presence in the Riggs family’s life: He felt responsible for their father’s injury.

The ambush had started when Private Haslett stepped on an improvised explosive device. He’d been badly burned and lost part of his foot while suffering serious damage to his lower body. Today he had more or less recovered but scars covered every inch of his calves and thighs. It was shocking at first but Mal had grown accustomed to seeing Doug’s scars and no longer thought much of them. If anything, he was proud that Doug didn’t hide his disfigurement.

Doug had relocated to their city after being discharged and had bought a house down the street where he ran a startup company out of his garage. He and the boys’ mother, Rachel, had developed a strong bond and visited Chris Riggs in the nursing home every day, hoping for a change in his condition. To honor him and raise money to support other wounded veterans, they had begun training for a marathon together. Doug’s foot injury slowed him down but he didn’t seem to mind because it meant that he and Rachel were evenly matched. Doug had become such a fixture of the Rigg’s household that Mal and Jaz felt almost like he lived with them.

Doug smiled brightly when they walked in, calling out to Mal, “Hey, sport! How’d it go? They say they could help you out?”

Before Mal could respond, Jaz had strolled over to Doug and, smirking, slung his arm over his shoulders. Mal watched in disbelief as his brother took the glass of juice out of Doug’s hand and lifted it to his lips, taking a long, slow swig. When he was done, he handed the empty glass back. Doug’s face reddened as Jaz slapped him on the shoulder and leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms and looking superior. Jaz was a big guy, Mal realized then. He’d grown several inches over the past year and now towered over both Mal and Doug. Obviously, he was enjoying his new prowess.

“Jaz, what…?” Mal started to say but his voice died in his throat as Doug elbowed Jaz sharply in the ribs. Jaz promptly doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach and wincing.

“Careful, pup,” Doug warned in a cold voice. “You may be bigger than me now but you’re no match for an army grunt, even a gimpy one like me. I’ll lay you flat.”

Jaz could only moan in reply but Mal noted that he straightened abruptly when their mom walked in. He looked over and his eyes met Doug’s. The man gave him a sly wink before turning and refilling his glass with juice.

They visited their father in the nursing home that afternoon but, as usual, it was a disappointing visit. Chris Riggs had been comatose since the day of the firefight and was slowly wasting away in his hospital bed. Sometimes Mal thought he could detect a slight change in his father’s face when they were visiting but he wasn’t certain. Nevertheless, he sat down beside his dad and took his gaunt hand in his own, whispering that he loved him and telling him about his trip to the clinic (although he omitted mention of the more embarrassing parts of the visit.) He said that he wanted to grow up to be just like his father, wanted to join the army and become a sergeant. Did his father’s eyebrows lift with these words or was it just a tremor? He squeezed his hand and leaned over to kiss his brow before moving over so Jaz could have some private dad time.

***

The treatment was successful!

A year later when they showed up at the clinic to meet with Dr. Chahda for the last injection, she stared up at him in amazement. He’d grown more than a foot and now was a couple inches taller than Jaz and at least twenty pounds heavier (much to Jaz’s annoyance.) His features had hardened and he was privately vain about his chiseled jaw and the manly dimple on his chin. His dark hair was thicker and he’d sprouted so much facial hair that he sported a full (but closely trimmed) beard. His shoulders had widened impressively and he’d gained muscle mass even as he slimmed down. There wasn’t a trace of the old baby fat he’d been so self-conscious about a year ago. He was finally becoming a man!

“Wow, Mal!” Dr. Chahda was saying. “You’re–”

He smiled confidently as he gently corrected her, “Tor. I go by Tor now.” His voice was deep and resonant, pleasing.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, I can see why. It fits the new you.” 

She paused then and cleared her throat. Were her cheeks rosier than a moment ago? When she continued, he noticed that she wouldn’t maintain eye contact with him. “As I was saying, you’re almost unrecognizable! I’d say we can skip the last shot today. You look like you’re already above the average size and, um, development for a boy your age.” Her cheeks were definitely turning red and he watched with amusement as she scrambled to reclaim her traditional cool demeanor. Clearing her throat again, she turned and handed him a dressing gown, saying, “You know the drill. Get undressed and I’ll be back in a minute to take your weight and other measurements.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Jaz and Tor alone in the little room.

Unlike previous times, Tor didn’t mind undressing in front of Jaz; he’d do anything to rub his older brother’s face in the fact that he was now smaller than Tor in every way. It was Jaz who looked away uncomfortably as Tor stripped out of his clothes. When he was garbed in the robe, Tor noted with approval that it was barely decent, riding up past his thighs. He could feel the cool breeze on his ass cheeks and knew they were hanging out. He smiled to himself. 

It felt great to be a man.

Stepping on the scale, the needle didn’t balance until just over two hundred pounds and his height came in at just under six foot three inches. He crossed his beefy arms and smirked as he caught Jaz’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Unlike the first appointment a year ago, his older brother was unusually quiet. He plopped sullenly on a chair in the corner and pretended to flip through a magazine but Tor caught him looking up at him repeatedly. It really galled Jaz that he couldn’t dominate Tor the way he used to. 

When Dr. Chahda had him lift his gown so she could measure his penis, Jaz almost fell out of his chair.

“Let’s see,” the doctor was saying as she fumbled with the measuring tape. “Just under six inches…and, well, almost eight in circumference.” She straightened, letting the gown drop as Jaz goggled incredulously. He looked away abruptly when Tor glanced up at him. Dr. Chahda pulled off her examination gloves, shaking her head. “You know the average flaccid penis is about three inches long, right? And the average erection is about six. You’re in the top one percent of males, Tor.”

“That small, huh?” he joked, letting his shoulders fall and pretending to act dejected. 

She laughed uncomfortably. “You have responded to the treatment much better than the rest of our patients. I don’t know why. There must be a physiological reason. Maybe your genetic profile is extraordinarily well-suited to the hormone mixture?”

He shrugged. He didn’t care. It worked, that was all that mattered. He’d become everything he’d ever wanted to be…and more. The past year had been the best year of his life as he had grown rapidly to reclaim his status one of the most popular guys in his high school. He was near the top of his class scholastically and was lead goalie on the water polo team. It was amazing how much difference being big and muscular made! His memories of being small and weak were fading into the background of his life as he claimed his new position as one of the biggest and strongest guys in school.

Shaking hands with the doctor after he’d dressed, she told him that she wouldn’t need to see for another year. “Go have fun, Tor!” she urged. “You deserve it!”

He laughed and waved to her as he and Jaz made their way back to the waiting room. Their mom looked up and smiled at them, folding her jacket under her arm and stepping up on her tiptoes to give Tor a big hug. Jaz stood next to him, staring down at the floor. His jaw was clenched when Tor looked over at him.

“Can we go see Dad now?” Tor asked. Even though his father was still unresponsive, he couldn’t wait to tell him that he was done with his treatments.

His mother nodded, saying, “Yes, Doug is there already. He’s been sitting with him all morning. You know that today is the third anniversary of the firefight, right?”

Tor stiffened. He didn’t know that. His good mood evaporated with this news. Had it really been three years already? He hung his head. Three years without a father. Well, more than that if he considered the years his father had been deployed. Tor realized then that it had been nearly four years since his father had last seen him. Tor had been a stunted thirteen year old with a high voice and stick arms and legs. His dad wouldn’t recognize him if he miraculously opened his eyes and saw his son.

Realizing he was clutching at his mother, he forced himself to let his arms drop. Her eyes misted and she turned. Tor sighed, following his mother and brother out of the clinic, his heart clenched in his chest.

***

Doug jumped up when they arrived, gracing them with his usual bright smile and effervescent mood. For some reason, Tor found himself studying the man who he now thought of almost as a surrogate father. Doug Haslett was dressed in his signature running shorts and tank top, a ball cap turned backward on his head. He was balding and almost never took the cap off but Tor actually preferred him without it. Doug’s beard was closely trimmed like Tor’s and his arms were tanned brown even as his scarred legs remained ghostly white. Scar tissue, Tor realized, didn’t tan.

“Tor,” Doug said. “You…” His voice broke off and he looked away.

“What?” he asked, suddenly filled with dread. “Doug, what were you going to say?”

Doug shook his head, remaining silent. Finally, after a long time, he nodded and opened his mouth. There was a long pause before he managed to stammer, “I-I was going to say how much you…look like your dad.”

Tor froze, feeling his already beleaguered heart begin to ache like it was squeezed in a vise. His eyes darted from Doug to the bed behind him where his father’s skeletal form lay rigid beneath a sheet. The sheet barely lifted with his shallow breaths.

There was very little recognizable about Sergeant Chris Riggs. After three years, he had wasted away to the point that the only thing that indicated his once burly physique was the size of his bones. The man had really big bones! Sadly, though, they only served to exaggerate the depredations of time spent unmoving in bed.

Tor walked on wooden legs over to the bed and stared down at his father. Time blurred then and the next thing he knew, he was sobbing, his head lying on the his father’s gaunt rib cage. He was holding his dad’s hand against his cheek. His fingers felt cold, so cold. Hell, he felt cold, too! His whole body was chilled. He felt like he would never get warm again. He started shivering uncontrollably. Hot tears flowed unstopping down his cheeks.

Gradually, he began aware of someone lifting him off of the bed and strong, warm arms wrapping around his chest. He let his eyes open and was startled when he found himself staring into Jaz’s tender gaze. His brother didn’t say anything, though. He just held Tor against him for a long time. After a while, he pulled Tor aside and the two boys settled onto a couch beside the bed. Tor let Jaz hold him like he used to when he was little and he got scared in the night, when dad was gone to war and his mother was too far away to hear his cries.

“I…I wanted him to see me,” he choked finally. “I really wanted him to see me now.” 

He felt embarrassed by this admission, even more so than by his tears but Jaz didn’t tease him. Jaz didn’t laugh. He didn’t even roll his eyes. He just held onto Tor and let him cry.

Jaz didn’t hug him again until the day of their father’s funeral two years later.

***

PART 2

The trouble started slowly. So slowly that it took Tor a while to figure out something was wrong. Looking back, he would realize that the first symptoms appeared during a family trip that summer to Cancun. At the time, however, he was too distracted by other events to pay much attention.

The trip was planned with the best of intentions. Their mother’s friend and coworker, Dan Eldridge, had a timeshare on Isla Mujeres that he offered to let them use. Knowing that money was tight for the Riggs’ family, he conspired with Doug Haslett (who purchased the plane tickets) to give them a much-needed vacation. The plan was for them to travel down in July and spend a couple of weeks on the beach. Upon Rachel’s insistence, Doug decided to join them. He was like another member of the family by that point and all of them enjoyed his company.

Tor wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first (‘Who goes to Mexico in the summer?’ he complained before Jaz elbowed him sharply in the ribs) but he knew it was important to his mother that they spend time together. Also, Jaz pointed out, it had been almost four years since they had taken a vacation together and this might be the last time they got to do so before he graduated from high school. No one mentioned that the last time they had taken a vacation together was with their father…three weeks before his injury.

Swallowing his complaints, Tor humored his mother and prepared for the trip. All was going well until the night before their scheduled departure when Rachel made an unwelcome announcement: Her coworker, Dan, would be accompanying them on the trip. Even more unwelcome was the news that the two had been dating for the past six months.

Tor’s jaw dropped. He knew that Dan and his mother had been friendly but never suspected that the man was anything more than a platonic friend, sort of like Doug Haslett. White hot rage exploded in him at his mother’s words and he threw his backpack on the floor. His sports gear went flying in all directions as he rounded on her.

“How fucking dare you!” he yelled. “Dad is still alive! You’re still fucking married to him!”

His mother backed against the counter as Jaz tackled Tor, pulling him away from her. “Shut the fuck up, you idiot,” his brother seethed in his ear. “Dad died more than three years ago. His body just hasn’t realized it yet. Mom deserves this.”

Tor tried to shove his brother away but Jaz was too strong. His brother had started weightlifting that year and had really begun to pack on the muscles. Tor stared at him, momentarily distracted. Jaz might be several inches shorter than him but he had somehow put on so much muscle that he now outweighed Tor. He blinked, seeing his brother as if for the first time. Jaz’s eyes narrowed and he smirked up at him as if to say, ‘Ha! And you thought you were the big man in the family, didn’t you?’ 

“Jaz…” he started to say and then clamped his mouth shut, turning instead to his mother and fixing her with a poisonous glare. She looked away uncomfortably as Jaz let his arms fall to his side. Tor turned and marched to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

His mother knocked on his door a half hour later as he lay on this bed, texting his best friend, Josie. Josie, Tor discovered, took his brother’s side and thought that it was a good sign that his mom was dating again. Tor scowled down at his phone as Josie texted him an emoji of a face with two uplifted palms.

“Tor,” Rachel said as she stepped into his room. “I’m sorry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to look at her.

“Dan is going to stay in a hotel in Cancun, not with us at the condo,” she explained in a low voice that was tinged with…what? Embarrassment? “He and I…haven’t…and we won’t until after…your father–” her voice broke off and she hung her head, her long hair falling over her shoulder.

Tor buried his head in his pillow, trying unsuccessfully to block out her words. He didn’t want to think of his mother in this way. It wasn’t right. His dad was still alive!

Rachel settled on the bed, eventually reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off but she wasn’t deterred. “Honey,” she began delicately as he began to cry, his whole body shaking with the effort to suppress the tears. “Oh, Honey,” she murmured, moving to take him in her arms.

This time he didn’t resist. Even though he now dwarfed her, he curled up in her lap and cried like a little boy while she hugged him silently. They lay like that for a long time before she soothed, “Oh, Tor, I forget that you’re not even seventeen sometimes. You’re such a big guy now that I assume you’re all grown up.”

“I am grown up!” he snorted but, even to his own ears, he sounded unconvincing. He sniffed, pushing his head into her lap and hating himself for being so weak. Guys didn’t cry! Why did he always cry like a baby?

His mother seemed to read his mind as she commented, “You are your dad’s son alright. He always was a big softy. That’s one of the many things I loved, um, love about him.”

Grimacing at her slip, he realized she was right about his dad being soft. Far from being a stoic military man, Chris Riggs hadn’t been afraid to show his emotions. Tor could remember well the acute embarrassment he felt as a young boy when his father teared up in public.

“I’m glad you learned how to cry from him,” she mused. “I worry about Jaz sometimes because he never cries. I think he was seven years old the last time I saw him–”

“He’s still alive, Mom,” Tor interrupted, voice cracking. “How can you do this when he’s still alive?”

Rachel smoothed his hair back from his eyes and exhaled slowly before saying, “He is dying, Tor. He is not going to recover. The doctors tell me that he has a few months at most. They are surprised he’s made it this long. His body doesn’t know when to quit.”

Tor’s mind disregarded the notion of his father’s impending death and instead he asked, “Who is going to stay with him while we’re gone? He’s gonna be all alone! It’s not fair!”

“Your Grandfather Lewis is coming down,” Rachel explained patiently. “He will stay here while we’re gone and visit your dad every day. He won’t be alone.”

Tor deflated, feeling like all he wanted right then was to fade away, disappear so he didn’t have to feel what he was feeling. It hurt. Everything hurt but mostly his chest hurt. It hurt furiously.

“Tor,” Rachel began. “Why don’t we–”

“Why not Doug, Mom?” He interrupted her, lifting his head to fix her with red-rimmed eyes. “Why aren’t you and Doug…?”

The question caught her off guard. Her eyebrows lifted briefly before she schooled her features and took a deep breath. “Tor,” she began slowly, “Doug is my best friend and I love him very much.”

“So?” he challenged. “Why not him?”

“Doug is gay, Tor.”

Doug is gay. 

These words echoed in his mind, repeating endlessly, each time gaining more strength and force until they howled like a gale, tearing through his thoughts and laying his very soul bare. He felt like his entire life story was rewritten with those three words and it left him feeling both winnowed out and strangely excited at the same time. Tor would later reflect on his mother’s revelation and realize it marked a watershed moment in his life. At the time, though, he was too shocked to realize it. At the time, all he could do was stammer, “He’s…gay?”

Rachel shook her head. “Yes.”

“Did Dad know?”

A complex expression passed across her face for a second before disappearing. Later he would wonder if he’d imagined it. She shook her head again, saying, “Yes.”

“What did he think?”

She laughed, a not altogether happy sound. “He was fine with it. More than fine, I’d say. The two of them were best friends and went through a lot together.”

“Like you and Doug are now?”

There was a pause and then, “Yes.”

“Good.”

***

In Mexico, they tried at first to play their roles, pretending to be a happy family, but the facade didn’t last long. Within two days of arriving on the island, Rachel and Dan had taken to disappearing for hours on end, returning in the evening looking flushed and happy, much to Tor’s fury. He didn’t attempt to conceal his feelings of betrayal but it made no difference. His mother was intent on enjoying Dan’s company regardless of how much it bothered Tor.

Jaz’s discontent manifested differently. His brother discovered a Gold’s Gym on the mainland within a couple days and soon was spending hours every day lifting. He would return only after dark, wearing a baggy hoodie and looking exhausted. After an enormous dinner consisting exclusively of protein, he’d disappear again in his room to watch Netflix.

That left Doug and Tor. After three days, they grew tired of snorkeling and sunbathing. Neither was suited to lying on the beach and the reefs, they soon realized, had seen better days. The entire ecosystem was suffering from the depredations of overuse, pollution, and climate change. It was kind of depressing.

“Hey, sport,” Doug suggested on their third morning as Tor lay on the couch in the living room of the condo, disconsolately watching Mexican telenovelas and trying to get the flaky WiFi to work so he could SnapChat with Josie. “How ‘bout if we take a bus to Cobá and see the ruins? I checked the schedule and there’s one that leaves at nine. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Tor looked up at him sleepily at first but quickly perked up as Doug’s words penetrated his foggy brain. “Fuck, yeah!” he exclaimed. “Let’s do it!”

“Booyah!” Doug said, laughing and extending his hand. Tor didn’t realize it at the time but when he reached out and took that firm, confident hand, Doug Haslett was pulling him up and out into a whole new world.

***

They rode in an immense, mostly empty tour bus to the ruins. Tor shivered as soon as he climbed on board; the bus’ air-conditioning was turned up high for the comfort of the mostly elderly group of tourists. He looked around for blankets but there were none. Scowling, he wrapped his arms around himself, wishing he’d thought to wear more clothes. The best he could do was find a seat on the sunny side of the bus and he sat down, pulling his knees up to this chest and preparing to endure a two-hour ride in a refrigerator.

Frowning slightly, Doug took pity on him and slung a warm arm over his shoulders. After initially stiffening, Tor gave in and settled against him. For a small man, Doug Haslett sure radiated heat!

Despite the cold, they enjoyed the ride to the ruins, chatting amiably about sports (both Doug and Tor were huge soccer fans) and life in the military. Even though Tor had heard most of Doug’s stories many times, he still enjoyed hearing about military life in Afghanistan, especially as it related to his father. Doug’s descriptions were so vivid that Tor had only to close his eyes and he was there, breathing in the heat and dust and feeling his whole body trickle sweat and fear as he accompanied Doug and his father on patrol…

He awoke with his face pressed against Doug’s belly as they pulled into the immense parking lot of the ruins. He opened his eyes, momentarily meeting Doug’s gaze. He felt a little electric charge course through his body before Doug looked away. Tor pushed himself upright and was thrilled when the man placed a hand on his shoulder as they exited the bus. He smiled as he stepped out into the bright, hot sunshine.

The ruins were mostly empty of tourists that day which lent them an otherworldly air. Tor stared at the mysterious, rocky ruins looming out of the dripping tropical forest. July was a low season for tourism in the Yucatan and it was incredibly hot despite the fact that encroaching clouds threatened rain. For Tor, however, the heat and absence of people were equally welcome and he immediately set out at a trot for the front gate, insisting on paying for Doug’s entry to the archeological park.

They meandered through the jungle paths, opting not to accompany their tour group. Instead, Doug hired a private tour guide who led them through the park, regaling them with the history and lore of the ancient Maya. He was almost as good of a storyteller as Doug and Tor’s young mind was quickly filled with tales of human sacrifice, jaguar gods, and sacred rituals depicted in graphic detail on the stellae dotting the grounds. As much as he enjoyed the stories, the highlight of the park, though, was the immense temple of Nohoch Mul. From the moment he spotted it rising lofty and solemn above the canopy of the forest, he couldn’t wait to climb it.

“Hey!” Doug called out after him when they arrived at the base of the lichen-encrusted limestone temple. Tor laughed and  took off, leaping upon the steep stairs and scaling them easily with his long legs.

He was about halfway up when he heard Doug closing in behind him. Swinging his arms to build momentum, he pushed himself upward, determined to be the first one to the top. Doug, however, might be partially disabled, more than a decade older and several inches shorter, but that didn’t slow him down. Tor watched out of the corner of his eye as the man drew even with him and then passed him, pulling ahead by several steps.

Tor growled in frustration and was about to call out a challenge when he noticed something that made him falter. Doug was shirtless, wearing only a pair of boardshorts and flipflops. That in itself wasn’t unusual; the man had been dressed like that pretty much the entire trip. It was what was inside those shorts that grabbed Tor’s attention.

Doug Haslett was a muscular, short man with a powerful body…and, Tor noticed as if for the first time, a really well-built backside. Tor watched mesmerized as Doug pumped his legs up the high steps. His wide, muscular back was moist and his chest was heaving. A trail of sweat ran down the furrow of his back, channeling between the cleft of his blocky buttocks. As Tor stared entranced, the waistband of Doug’s boardshorts slipped down, exposing a good two or three inches of the man’s ample ass.

Tor stopped short, breathing heavily and feeling suddenly woozy. He mopped his brow with the back of his hand as Doug halted above him, turning and looking over his shoulder questioningly.

“What’s wrong, bud?” he asked, standing there with his hands on his hips. “You Ok?”

Tor’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth as he tried to answer. All he could do was stare at Doug’s bare ass hanging out of the top of his shorts. It was so firm, so meaty, so…

Ungh.

He was hard before he knew it, his cock coming to life instantly in his shorts. Panicked that Doug would see his erection, he windmilled his arms and fell backward, barely managing to catch himself. He landed with his back turned to Doug. Chest heaving, he lowered his eyes to his crotch where beheld the wide, thick outline of his glans plastered against his flimsy pair of shorts.

Whew! he thought, that was close!

“Hey, Tor,” Doug repeated, sounding quizzical. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, yeah. Doin’ great,” he managed to choke out. “Just had to catch my breath. Go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the top.”

Doug paused for a moment and then Tor heard him bound up the remaining steps. Only then did he exhale and wrestle with his mutinous cock, forcing it discreetly between his thighs. He staggered the rest of the way up, cock throbbing painfully.

When he reached the top, Doug was waiting for him, looking studly as ever, although he had pulled his shorts back up, concealing his amazing ass. Tor felt his heart do a little flip in his chest when the man’s gaze met his own. Doug smiled and Tor’s cock pulsed.

The humid, tropical air felt charged with erotic energy. He drank it in as he stood next to Doug atop the temple, watching the first drops of rain splatter down on the old stone and listening to the call of parrotlets and oropendolas from the treetops below. Their guide had remained on the ground and was looking up at them from the cover of a little palm-frond palapa. The temple steps were empty of people, save for them. Tor’s eyes lowered to Doug’s ass for the thousandth time. He could feel the heat emanating from Doug’s firm body. The man’s sweat smelled intoxicating. He licked his lips.

“Tor…” Doug began.

“What?” Tor’s voice was deep, husky, filled with longing.

“Let’s get a selfie for your mom, Ok?”

Tor paused, feeling a sudden upwelling of frustration. This was the last thing he expected/wanted Doug to ask. Struggling to keep the disappointment off of his face and out of his voice, he mumbled, “Sure, yeah. Cool.”

He gamely smiled into Doug’s iPhone, leaning in woodenly until they were shoulder to shoulder, as Doug snapped the photo. He then turned away, scowling. Oh, how he longed for Doug to notice him…in a particular way! One particular way that would validate him, affirm him. He wanted Doug to really see him!

“It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?” Doug asked, turning and smiling up at him slowly.

Tor’s adam’s apple moved up and down as he struggled to reply, wanting so badly to tell Doug that he was really beautiful but not having the guts to do so. Finally, he grunted, “Yeah, really beautiful.”

They stood there for a long time, unmoving and silent, as the rain pattered down.

***

“Sheeeeiiiittt!” Jaz exclaimed when they returned to the condo that night. “What’d you do? Lay in the sun all day, Tor?”

Tor shook himself and looked down at his arms and legs. He’d forgotten to wear sunblock and his skin was already turning a deep brown. “Yeah, I guess I got too much sun,” he admitted. For some reason, he noticed his cheeks felt hot.

“Jesus, bro,” Jaz said, shaking his head. “You a mess.”

Tor was readying a retort when he noticed Jaz’s pumped arms and chest. His brother was wearing a too-small string tank emblazoned with the Gold’s Gym logo and his pecs were almost bursting out of the top of it. Jaz caught his gaze and winked at him, clenching his chest and making his muscles dance. Tor looked away, hearing his pulse pound in his ears. What is going on with Jaz, he wondered, feeling suddenly weak. The day was just too much…too much…

Oblivious to the brothers’ unspoken interaction, his mother looked up from the dining room table where she was busy laying out plates of fish tacos. Dan Eldridge, Tor noted, was lying out on the little balcony overlooking the ocean, seemingly fast asleep. Rachel regarded Tor curiously for a moment before shaking her head. “Make sure you put lotion on every morning, Honey. I’ve never seen you so dark!”

He laughed uncomfortably, tearing his gaze away from Jaz only to have his eyes land on Doug. Heart pounding, he reveled in the man’s gorgeous physique. His muscles all but popped under his bronzed skin. He’d removed his cap and his bald spot and receding hairline were clearly visible but, if anything, these only seemed to heighten his magnetic appeal. Tor felt his cock stir in his shorts as the man shifted and his shoulder brushed against his pec.

“Rachel,” Doug said, unaware of Tor’s scrutiny. “What would you say if I took the boys for a short trip down to see the ruins at Calakmul? We both really enjoyed the park today and Tor said he wants to see more.” He turned to Jaz, asking, “Wanna join us, bud?”

His brother made an inarticulate sound and grimaced, saying, “Uh, thanks but no thanks, Doug. I’m gonna stay here and lift.”

Tor stayed silent, holding his breath as Doug pushed, “You sure? We had a blast today.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Jaz said, pretending to yawn. “Ruins don’t do it for me. And it’s too fucking hot. I wanna stay inside where it’s airconditioned.”

Tor felt his shoulders relax. Now all they had to do was convince his mom…

“What do you think, Rachel? I’ll rent a car,” Doug coaxed. “The roads are safe and I speak Spanish reasonably well.” When he noticed that she was waffling, he added, “We’d only be gone a few days…”

It took some doing but his mother finally relented and they left for Calakmul the next morning.

***

PART 3

Doug rented a convertible and Tor jumped in, whooping loudly as Doug turned his baseball cap around and lowered the top. In a moment, they tore out of the parking lot and set off through the sweltering city of Cancun. Deciding to bypass the nightmare congestion of the Maya Coast, Doug drove west toward Valladolid. On impulse, he exited the toll road and they explored the slower, bumpier side route, enjoying a leisurely drive through the small towns dotting the scrubby interior of the peninsula.

Tor was in heaven.

After a sleepless night, he felt electrified and more alive than he could remember. He couldn’t stop casting happy glances over at Doug. Tor had known for at least the past year that he was probably gay but he’d been so preoccupied with the gradual growth of his stunted body to spend much time thinking about it. He talked regularly about being queer with his best friend Josie as she transitioned from male to female but those conversations were mostly focussed on her. His own feelings rarely came up.

Until now.

Now his feelings of attraction were front and center and Doug Haslett was their target. Everything about Doug was delectable and he could scarcely believe that he had the man to himself for three whole days. His cock was throbbing in his shorts within minutes and he kept having to hide it. In the space of one magical, sun-drenched, tropical morning, Tor felt his body bloom into full and ardent manhood.

From Valladolid, they headed south, making a stop in the little town of Tihosuco. Doug had read in their guidebook about a museum there honoring the Mayan struggle for independence. When he suggested they stop, Tor was unenthused but he gamely followed along and pretended to hang on Doug’s every word as he translated the plaques in the modest collection of rooms making up the museum. By that point, his hardon had been raging for several hours and he was getting a serious case of blue balls. Watching Doug’s luscious lips, mesmerizing eyes, and the rivulet of sweat trickling between his pecs and staining his tank top was almost too much and he had to stop and jack off furiously in the museum’s little bathroom.

After a brief lunch, they were back on the road again but, rather than continuing south, Doug drove east. “There’re supposed to be some totally awesome caves nearby. I thought it would be fun to take a tour.”

Tor nodded, distracted again by Doug’s masculine beauty. By that point, he would followed Doug anywhere just to be in his radiant presence. He smiled goofily over at him, every bit the lovesick puppy. Doug laughed, reaching over to muss his hair.

The cave tour started out uneventfully. Tor had expected a visitor center and landscaped grounds but, when they pulled into the dusty parking lot, they saw only a couple of young Mayan guys hanging out under the meager shade of a lone tree. They stood up hopefully and greeted them pleasantly in English when they exited the car. Doug paid one of the guys to watch the car (the convertible had a cloth top which wasn’t exactly much of a theft-deterrent) while another volunteered to be their guide. They offered two tours, a two-hour and a four-hour tour. After some deliberation, Doug chose the two-hour tour because he wanted to be sure they had enough time to make it to their hotel before dark. Tor was a little disappointed because he had so much energy built up from lusting after Doug that he badly needed to burn some of it off with exercise.

He needn’t have worried.

The tour started off innocently enough with a stroll through a broad cavern. Their guide, a voluble man of about twenty, was very enthusiastic and easygoing, using his headlamp to show off enormous stalactites and traces of old pottery left behind by Maya who used the cave as a hiding place during the Caste War. The cavern grew progressively narrower and the passageway steeper even as the air grew warmer. Tor had expected the temperature to fall the deeper they went but instead it increased. Soon both he and Doug were drenched in sweat.

It got better.

Or worse, rather. About forty-five minutes in, they entered a chamber with a slippery clay floor. When their guide shown his light into it, they could see no ceiling…and no floor.

“It falls down more than a hundred meters,” their guide explained cheerfully. “And it’s really slippery.”

Tor looked around for a hand railing but saw none. He cast a wary glance at Doug who favored him with a tight smile.

Turning and pointing his light upward, their guide said, “We go up here.”

Tor followed the beam of the light and saw only a wall of clay-covered rock. Panicked, he asked, “How? Where are the handholds?”

“There aren’t any,” the man said, shrugging. “You have to do the best you can.”

Tor’s heart was pounding by this point and he would have bolted if Doug hadn’t placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can do it, sport,” he reassured. “Here, you start climbing and I’ll follow behind so I can catch you if you fall.” With that, he coaxed Tor up the slope, placing his hands on his buttocks and pushing.

!

!!

!!!

Doug Haslett’s hands were on his ass!

Tor’s fear evaporated and his mind exploded with delirious pleasure. Doug was touching his ass! He had to suppress a moan as he felt the man’s big, strong hands enfolding him, holding him up, pushing him up. He scrambled upward, purposely slowing down the closer he got to the top. He never wanted Doug to stop touching him. Was it his imagination or were his fingers caressing him, lingering on him, squeezing him tenderly? Was it his imagination or did Doug wait one, two, three, four, five seconds before letting his hands fall away? Was it…?

“Tor?”

He shook himself and noticed that, while he was daydreaming, Doug and the guide had passed him and were looking backward, their headlamps momentarily blinding him. He held up his hand and laughed. He couldn’t help it. Doug Haslett, the hottest man alive, had grabbed his ass!

The perilous climb up the slick cliff face only presaged more treacherous going. The passage grew rapidly narrower until they could no longer walk upright and had to scrabble on their hands and knees over gravel and boulders. The temperature increased and Tor began to feel lightheaded. He was panting, soaked in sweat, and filthy. His tank top was torn and his shorts were stained red with clay.

But…

But…

He didn’t give a fuck.

No, he couldn’t have cared less because he got the extraordinary privilege of taking up the rear and crawling on his hands and knees behind Doug’s magnificent man ass. His headlamp was glued on those tantalizing buttocks as they strained against the fabric that hugged them tight. There was an inch-long tear in the seat of his shorts that grew progressively longer, exposing more and more of the bright yellow briefs hiding underneath the canvas. Tor’s mouth went dry and at one point he ran face-first into those delicious orbs of goodness when Doug unexpectedly drew to a halt.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry about that!” Tor exclaimed, reaching down to shove his throbbing cock down. He was going to have to rub one out again soon or he would explode.

“This,” their guide announced in a low voice that Tor had to strain to hear. “Is called the ‘birth canal’ because it’s so tight. The only way through is to slide head first and pray you don’t get stuck.”

As if waking from a dream, Tor looked around and realized how cramped the passageway had become. It reminded him how much he hated closed-in spaces. How he used to panic when he was a child and Jaz would lock him in their parent’s closet. How he used to cry and cry and… He started to quail but then Doug’s feet were disappearing down the tunnel and he knew he didn’t have any choice. There was no way he could make it back out the way they had come. He steeled himself and dove in, sliding precipitously down, down, down, down.

Doug caught him when he came out, pulling him up and giving him a tight guy hug before high-fiving him. “You did it, Tor!” he cheered. “You fucking did it! Booyah!”

“Fuck, yeah!” Tor exclaimed, adding, “We did it together.” 

He was so overcome that he drew Doug into his arms, giving him a lingering hug. Doug’s hard body pressed into him and he felt like he was going to die of happiness. He was so sexy, so manly, so… He forced himself to let go and drop his hands before the contact became awkward. Stepping away, he coughed and turned to their guide who was already leading them down to the next challenge.

They emerged victorious a half hour later, flushed and sweaty but radiant with pride. They were so filthy that Doug insisted on taking a short video during which he panned his phone over every inch of Tor’s muddy and bruised body. Tor coughed and repositioned his hardon quickly before any incriminating evidence was uploaded to the cloud…and his mother’s iPhone. (Jaz would never let me forget that!) Satisfied, Doug clicked send and then turned to more practical matters, putting down a beach towel on the seats of the rental car before allowing Tor to get in. He gave their guide a generous tip and they were on their way, laughing and in high spirits. Tor couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy.

“I was seriously worried after twenty minutes,” Doug admitted after they pulled back onto the paved road. “I wanted to call it off and head back but I didn’t want you to think I was afraid.”

Tor laughed at this. Nothing could ever convince him that Doug was a coward. He looked down at the man’s legs and noticed they were scraped and bruised. Before he could stop himself, he had reached out and traced a finger down a long cut on his thigh. It was crusted in dried blood and looked nasty.

“Are you Ok?” he asked, kicking himself for forgetting Doug’s disability. The man was so vigorous that it was easy to forget that he was missing part of a foot and his legs had basically been blown off and then stitched back together. He felt like such an ass!

“I’m U.S. Army, dude,” Doug joked, scratching away some of the blood to show that the cut wasn’t deep. “And it looks worse than it is.”

Tor kept his finger on his leg for a little too long but Doug didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he pointed out the window at a sign. “Cenote!” he exclaimed. “Man, we got to stop by the cenote! It’ll be perfect after what we’ve been through.”

Tor wrinkled his brow, asking, “Cenote? What’s that?”

“A sinkhole with a lake inside. They’re super cool and really beautiful. We can wash up so we don’t look like a couple of miscreants when we get to our hotel.”

Tor laughed at his use of the term ‘miscreants’ before saying, “Fuck, yeah! Let’s dive in!”

***

The cenote was in the middle of an old henequen plantation with a little train to carry visitors to the swimming hole. They arrived just before the last train and Doug calculated that they had enough time to swim and get to Santa Elena before dark.

“Plenty of time for a dip,” he said brightly as he got out of the car and rummaged around in his pack for a pair of shorts. “You’ll want to change, too. They won’t let us in wearing these rags!”

Tor looked down at his muddy and torn clothes and agreed that he did look pretty rough. He climbed out and dug through his stuff for an extra pair of shorts. On impulse, he pulled out his water polo Speedo and held it out, wondering if he had the balls to put it on.

He did.

Keeping his back to Doug, he yanked down his shorts and stepped into the Speedo, pulling it up quickly. Thus clothed in the skimpy garment, his courage waned and he modestly donned a pair of boardshorts over the suit. He would wait and see how brave he felt when got to the cenote…

When he looked over, Doug had disappeared. Huh? Where has the dude gone? He swiveled and finally spotted the man changing behind a bush. Now that’s weird, he thought. He’s Army. I thought they walked around naked in front of each other all the time? He shrugged, finding this little show of modesty endearing despite the fact that it deprived him of the chance to see Doug’s beautiful ass. Oh, well, he thought, we’re gonna be together 24/7 for the next three days. Surely, he’d have a chance to see Doug in all of his nude glory at some point…even if he had to resort to subterfuge.

Doug stepped out from behind the bush clothed in a new pair of shorts and looking handsome as ever. He favored Tor with a smile, urging, “The train leaves in a minute, dude.” He looked down at his misshapen foot, the missing toes clearly visible in his sandal, adding, “After that cave, I don’t have much walking left in me.”

They were the sole occupants of the train, save for a pair of college guys who, it turned out, were enjoying a break from their classes in Mexico City. Tor regarded them curiously and noticed they were doing the same with Doug and him.

Doug was relaxed, slinging his arm casually over the back of their seat as he chatted in Spanish with the men. Tor struggled to follow their conversation, grasping only parts of it. The smaller, thinner guy (Octavio, Tor learned later) asked about Doug’s scars and they got talking about the war. This led to a spirited discussion during which Tor and Octavio’s friend, Pedro, lost interest. Tor stared out at the scrubby landscape as the little train chugged onward, wishing desperately that Doug would forget about Octavio and pay attention to him instead.

The entrance to the cenote was just a small hole in the ground surrounded by crude scaffolding. The train pulled to a stop and they climbed out. While Octavio and Doug continued their conversation, Tor wandered over to gaze down through the hole curiously. He took an inadvertent step backward when he realized that the cavern dropped off precipitously, falling away into a vast chamber filled with dark yet startlingly blue water.

Doug appeared at his side, laughing at his reaction. “Yeah, pretty freaky, isn’t it? Now you can see why they find the bones of prehistoric animals and humans at the bottom of these things. Gotta watch your step out here!”

Octavio came up behind them and commented in Spanish, causing Doug to laugh again. Tor was about to ask him what he’d said when he noticed that Pedro was staring at him. He shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes to the ground, before climbing down the ladder into the cenote. Doug followed, somehow managing to scale the ladder without any noticeable difficulty. Tor was amazed again by the way the man had adapted to his disability. Doug was incredible in every way!

Below, the cavern was empty of other tourists, silent, and mysterious. Cool air greeted him as he descended and he exhaled slowly, savoring the delicious change from the stifling humidity above ground. The ladder led to a broad platform suspended about ten feet over the surface of the clear water. The chamber was dim but enough light streamed through small holes in the gaping cavern overhead for them to see reasonably well. Tor leaned over the platform and admired the limpid water, amazed that he could see the boulders strewn across the bottom perhaps a hundred feet below the surface. It was both beautiful and a bit unnerving.

“Go on, sport,” Doug urged. “Jump in!”

Tor looked over his shoulder, hands poised on the waistband of his shorts. Octavio and Doug were reclining against the rocky ledge, arms crossed. As Tor watched, they resumed their discussion, seeming to forget all about him. Pedro was standing in front of them, a funny look on his face as he watched Tor. Tor swallowed feeling suddenly bashful.

Should he take off his shorts and swim in his Speedo? Or should he keep his boardshorts on?

He really wanted Doug to see him in his skin-tight suit but he felt shy with Octavio and Pedro there. Why couldn’t he and Doug have the place to themselves? All he wanted was to be alone with Doug! As he stood there indecisively, Pedro startled him by whipping off his shorts and jumping into the cenote completely naked.

Tor watched him with his mouth hanging open. He turned and looked back at Doug but, oddly, the man didn’t seem to notice. He and Octavio didn’t seem aware of anything or anyone around them. Tor sighed. Why wasn’t Doug watching him? Didn’t he find Tor attractive? He was gay, wasn’t he? Why wasn’t he looking at Tor? Was he ugly? Maybe he wasn’t muscular enough? Maybe he should start lifting weights with Jaz? Maybe then Doug would notice him?

A low whistle interrupted these swirling thoughts and he looked down to see Pedro waving at him from the water below.

“Ven!” he shouted. “Ven conmigo!”

Tor looked back at Doug hopefully but the man didn’t look up. Perturbed, he impulsively yanked his shorts down, exposing the sheer fabric of his tiny Speedo. A thrill ran through his body as he realized what he was doing. He was in his Speedo! In front of Doug! He straightened and turned, giving Doug the full view of his nearly naked body in all of its glory. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Doug didn’t see him. He didn’t even look up. What the fuck? What was wrong with him? More importantly, what was wrong with Tor? Deflated, he turned away and stepped up to the ledge. His heart felt heavy and his body felt dull and ugly. Why wouldn’t Doug look at him?

“Ahorita!” Pedro prompted and Tor jumped a little. He’d completely forgotten about Pedro.

Looking down at the naked man in the water below him, he squared his shoulders and set his jaw, thinking, ‘Fuck Doug!’ as he leaped off the platform into the cool, refreshing water.

***

“Hola, guapo.”

Tor was treading water, looking back at Doug on the platform. Doug and Octavio continued prattling on, oblivious to him. He scowled and turned to see Pedro stroking over to him, a wide smile on his face. Tor flushed when he realized how handsome he was. He was dark-complected with strong mestizo features and shiny, thick, black hair. His brown eyes were alive in his face as he drank in the sight of Tor. Tor shivered, realizing that he was swimming with a naked man. A very muscular, stout, and simmeringly beautiful man.

Pedro stopped in front of him and they briefly faced each other, so close that Tor’s face was misted each time the man exhaled. He was about to say something awkward in Spanish when Pedro motioned with his chin over to the far end of the cavern. Then, turning, he swam quickly away. Tor cast one last glance up at Doug and, seeing he was still deep in conversation with Octavio, followed.

The reality of what he was doing hit him as he stroked over to Pedro. His heart began to pound in his chest and he had trouble breathing even though he was an expert swimmer. When Pedro disappeared behind a low ridge of boulders, Tor felt like he was going to hyperventilate. He stopped, hesitating, willing Doug to jump off the platform and rescue him. Did Doug even care about him? Why wasn’t he the one who was naked and leading Tor behind the rocks? Why…?

Pedro cleared his throat and Tor shook himself. He resumed paddling, his heart in his throat and his cock rock hard in his Speedo.

When he rounded the corner, he blinked. Pedro had something in his teeth. What was it? He squinted and his cock throbbed almost painfully when he realized what the little square piece of foil was.

A condom.

Pedro had a condom in his mouth!

Things happened fast. One moment, Tor was staring at the handsome stud, pulse pounding in his ears and the next Pedro was right there in front of him.

Pedro reached up and took the condom from his lips.

Pedro was taking Tor in his thick, muscular arms.

Pedro’s lips were on Tor’s.

Pedro’s fat, hot erection was pressing into Tor’s stomach.

Pedro’s tongue was inside his mouth.

Pedro’s hands were wrestling with Tor’s Speedo.

Pedro was pushing his Speedo down to his knees.

Pedro was tearing open the condom package…

“Dios mio!”

Tor’s eyes snapped open as the man grabbed his engorged cock. Pedro’s eyes were round as he stared with surprise. Tor’s eyes rolled back as the man squeezed and he had to suppress a moan. When he opened his eyes again, a huge smile was spreading across Pedro’s face.

“Tu verga es muy grande y ancha!”

Tor didn’t know what the words meant but he could guess. He looked down, feeling his cheeks color. Pedro laughed and reached out to guide Tor’s hands down, down, down…

Holy shit! He was touching another guy’s cock!

And what a cock!

Pedro’s dick was fat and hard and covered in a long foreskin. Christ, it was fucking hot! It was…

“Ungh.”

Taking advantage of his distraction, Pedro slipped the condom over Tor’s cock. The man was incredibly dextrous, managing the nearly impossible. Tor wouldn’t realize until much later in his life exactly how difficult it was to put a condom on underwater, much less to have it stay on. Pedro either possessed extraordinarily good luck or a lot of skill because, in barely more than a second, Tor’s cock was sheathed in a latex cover.

His mind was trying furiously to process the millions of new and delightful sensations cascading through his body as one first after another fell by the wayside…first touch, first kiss, first tongue, first naked hug, first cock, first condom…when Pedro spun around and presented him with his backside, treading water and pressing back, back, back, back…until…

His brain exploded with scintillating starbursts of erotic ecstasy as his condom-clad cock slipped into the warm, smooth, welcoming crevice of Pedro’s buttocks. Kicking furiously to stay afloat, the man reached back and pulled his cheeks apart. Tor’s mind blanked as he grabbed Pedro and, spinning him around and pushing him against the rocks, prepared to drive his tool into that unbelievably tight and…

“Hey, Tor! Where’d you go?”

Doug’s voice broke through the euphoric haze enveloping him and he pushed abruptly away from Pedro. Belatedly, he realized what he was about to do and guilt washed over him. What the fuck was he thinking? How could he….without Doug? Doug was the only man he wanted to be with. Doug was the only one for him!

Pedro looked over his shoulder and fixed Tor with a baleful stare as he tugged his Speedo up over his throbbing erection, not even bothering to pull off the condom. In a moment, he was swimming back out into the open cavern to meet Doug in the middle.

“You had me worried there for a minute, sport,” the man sputtered as he labored to tread water. “What were you doing back there?”

Tor flushed crimson and was glad that the cavern was so dark. “Uh, nothing. Just, um, you know, exploring.” 

He held his breath, certain that Doug would see through his lie but there was only the briefest of pauses before Doug replied, “Be careful, bud. These cenotes are deep and treacherous. Your mom would kill me if anything happened to you and I would…” Doug’s voice broke off and Tor’s breath caught in his chest. A second passed and then another. When he finally continued, Doug stammered, “never forgive myself if you…” He stopped, voice trailing off. 

He never finished the sentence. Instead, he turned and rapidly swam back to the platform, leaving Tor confused and excruciatingly aroused behind him.

***

Tor couldn’t wait to jack off.

It seemed to take forever to check into the guesthouse, a pleasant little collection of cabins just outside of Santa Elena. The proprietor, a Canadian ex-patriot, took forever showing them around the little bungalow. It had two bedrooms, a common area, and a spacious bathroom with a shower that Tor eyed longingly. Sweat was running down his torso and he was dying to douse himself in cool water, pull out his aching cock, and beat it into submission.

As soon as the woman handed the key to Doug and departed, he all but ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He stripped out of his clothes and tossed the condom (that somehow still clung to his dick) in the trash, launching himself into the shower. He didn’t even wait for the water to warm as he threw his head back and slapped his cock hard in his hand. 

He shot a torrent of cum across the tiled floor and was bent over gasping when he noticed his pubic hair. It was different somehow. Weirder. He squinted, examining it as he stroked the hairs tentatively. He kept his pubes trimmed short and the hair was always a bit scratchy but now it was like a fucking Brillo pad. And the hairs were strange. Really spidery and wiry, spreading out laterally in little patches rather than rising up from his skin like usual. The hair was jet black, too. He wrinkled his brow and cupped his balls, noticing that they were covered with strangely dense hairs as well.

Huh?

Maybe the heat and humidity were doing strange things to his hair?

Doug’s knock forestalled further examination and he straightened, grabbing a towel.

“Hey, dude. I gotta piss.”

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grunted, “Yeah, sure. I’m done anyway. Come in.”

He stepped out of the shower as Doug entered, pacing over to the toilet. Tor expected him to pull down his shorts and take a piss but strangely he hesitated, turning and fixing Tor with a pointed stare.

Tor got the hint.

Feeling the back of his neck grow hot, he stalked out of the room and closed the door behind him, wondering why Doug was so being such a fucking prude.

***

“You’re hair’s all kinky,” Doug commented at dinner, reaching across the table to twist a few strands between his fingers. “I wonder if there was some chemical in the water back at the cenote?”

Tor almost didn’t hear him. He was too busy relishing the fact that Doug was touching his hair. Only when Doug dropped his hand and lifted his baseball cap to touch his own thinning blond hair did his words register.

Doug shook his head, saying, “Mine’s the same as always but I don’t have much to begin with. Maybe whatever is in the water only affects thicker hair? You were blessed with your dad’s hair alright!”

Tor looked down at his plate, feeling absurdly proud. Doug liked his hair! His mind was so busy trilling with this little compliment that he didn’t notice Doug’s demeanor had shifted, becoming more serious.

“Tor, what were you doing with Pedro earlier? I noticed that he seemed really into you.” He put down his fork and fixed him with those stunningly beautiful, blue eyes. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire time we were on the train.”

Caught off guard, Tor felt his face flame crimson. Panicking, he was considering bolting to the bathroom when he was saved by a miracle: The man at the table next to them started choking. Immediately, Doug jumped up and performed the Heimlich maneuver as the people at the surrounding tables stared in concern. Tor mopped his brow in relief, both for himself and for the poor man, as a piece of chicken popped out of his mouth and landed on the table in front of him.

That was way too close!

***

“Come on, sport! Run with me?”

Tor cracked an eyelid. Sun was streaming through the window and the air in his bedroom was already warm. The anemic air conditioner did little but take a modicum of humidity out of the room. Beneath the sheets, his body was already leaking sweat.

Without thinking, he groaned, “Ugh, go fuck yourself!”

“Tor!” Doug exclaimed in a hurt voice. “That’s not how you–”

Shit! 

SHIT!

Had he really just said that to Doug?! 

His eyes popped open and he jumped up, apologizing profusely. How could he have said that? To Doug of all people? Oh, god, he was a total fucktard!

He was so worked up that he only belatedly realized that he was butt-naked under the covers. Worse, he was sporting morning wood. Both he and Doug became aware of these facts at the same moment and their faces turned a brilliant shade of red. Doug backed out of the room, closing the door and stammering, “It’s, um, fine. Really. Sorry. I, uh, shouldn’t have…” The door clicked shut and Tor fell back on the bed, cradling his head in his hands as his cock throbbed mutinously between his legs.

***

He emerged from his bedroom a few minutes later clothed in a tank top and pair of gym shorts. His cock was encased in an Under Armour boxer jock but, even locked down, it still protruded noticeably in front of him. He sidled across the room, mindful of keeping his bulge hidden, saying, “I’m ready. Still wanna go for a run?”

Doug was sitting on a little stool, tying the laces of his running shoes. His ears were red and he wouldn’t meet Tor’s gaze. “It’s Ok, bud. I’ll just go for a short run on my own. You don’t–”

“No,” Tor interrupted. “I want to. I wanna run with you.”

Finally lifting his head, Doug’s eyes traveled the length of his body. Did he pause briefly when his gaze landed on his crotch? Tor felt his cock pulse in response. Doug swallowed and Tor watched his big adam’s apple move up and down. “Tor…”

“Shut up, dude!” Tor said, walking over to open the door and pulling Doug up on his feet. “Let’s just do it. You set the pace.” He pushed the man outside and slammed the door shut behind them. Doug turned and gave him a funny hangdog grin before jogging across the grounds of the bungalows and disappearing through a thicket of scrub. Tor lowered his head and gave chase.

He quickly realized that his reward for letting Doug set the pace was a stellar view of the man’s butt. Doug was wearing a pair of orange nylon running shorts that hugged his ample ass, leaving almost nothing to Tor’s imagination. Even better, the fabric became quickly damp with his sweat, clinging so assiduously to his skin that Tor could see the hairs on the man’s ass cheeks. Watching those tempting globes bounce up and down got him riled up and soon he was sporting a hardon.

After a half mile of trying and failing to distract himself, Tor drew to a halt, bending over and putting his hands strategically down on his knees. His erection was aching furiously and his balls were sore from the incessant bouncing. He hung his head, gritting his teeth and willing his erection to subside. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Reluctantly, he was forced to admit defeat.

“What’s wrong, sport?”

He looked up and Doug was standing before him in all of his sweaty grandeur. His little shorts were soaked and his body was glistening in the sunlight. The morning air was filled with birdsong and a gentle, if somewhat hot, breeze rustled through the leaves overhead. They were alone on a little trail through the low hills near the bungalow.

Alone together.

Again.

Tor couldn’t take it.

Panting, he lied, “I’m outta shape, man. Gotta catch my breath.” He made sure to stay bent over to conceal the evidence of his arousal. There was no way he was going to let Doug catch him with a hardon again!

“That’s tough! I’m sorry. Let’s call it quits and head back. It’s too hot to run anyway.”

“No! No!” Tor protested, perhaps a little too strenuously. “That’s Ok. Just go on without me. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“As shit.”

Doug shrugged and jogged onward, leaving Tor behind with a furious erection and a pent up libido that masturbating in the bushes did nothing to alleviate.

He jacked off three times after he got back to their bungalow but his cock was hard again in seconds. Pulling out his phone and trying to connect to the shitty WiFi, he tried to make a voice call to Josie on SnapChat but the signal was too weak. Even his texts to her remained unsent. He sighed and turned on the television, determined to distract himself from his insane libido. He’d never been this turned on in his life and it was making him crazy!

When Doug returned from his run a few minutes later, Tor had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep his attention away from his throbbing cock. The man just kept getting hotter! How was it possible? Even the little droplets of sweat on his upper lip were adorable and Tor had to grip the armrest of his chair to prevent himself from leaping up and licking them off.

Fuck! This was just cruel!

Doug was showering when Tor had an idea. He would walk in when Doug was toweling off! It would be perfect! His golden opportunity to see the man in the flesh, all wet and muscly and sexy! His cock twitched in his shorts and he reached down absently to massage it before cursing. Shit, why was he so fucking horned up? He forced himself to withdraw his fingers from his crotch and chewed on his fingernails as he waited.

Doug took forever to shower and Tor was beside himself by the time he heard the water turn off. Feeling jittery, he waited for the telltale slide of the shower curtain to make his move, walking stealthily to the door and taking a deep breath.

He turned the knob.

Fuck! It was locked!

“I’m just about done!” Doug called out as Tor cursed silently.

He knocked.

“Yo, Doug! I really gotta take a piss!”

“I’m just about done,” Doug repeated, sounding exasperated.

“I can’t fucking wait!”

He heard Doug sigh as he unlocked the door. Tor didn’t wait, he barged right in, turning hopefully to see Doug in all of his naked glory…

…only to be rewarded with a glimpse of bare thigh before Doug finished wrapping the towel around his waist.

Tor exhaled loudly and stomped over to the toilet. He was so frustrated by that point that he defiantly yanked his shorts down and pissed bare-assed into the bowl. Or at least tried to. His cock was so hard that he had to stand there forever before he could force out any pee.

“I thought you really had to go,” Doug commented over the sound of Tor’s pathetic dribbling.

“Fuck off! I’m piss shy,” Tor grunted through clenched teeth, really fucking hating Doug at that moment.

“I can tell,” Doug said dryly as he walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

***

Part 4

He was disconsolately munching on a dry tortilla at breakfast when Doug cleared his throat. He looked up and lost himself in the man’s dreamy eyes for a moment before catching himself and looking away.

“Tor, did you forget to put on sunblock yesterday?”

Sunblock? What the fuck did Doug care?

He rolled his eyes. “Uh, probably. S’Ok, though, already got a base goin’.”

Doug ignored his attitude, remarking, “Well, you’re very dark. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tan before.”

He looked up and away again, feeling disgruntled. Why the fuck was Doug harping on him about his tan? “We’re in the tropics, dude,” he said, shrugging. “The sun’s intense down here.”

Doug let it drop but Tor caught him staring at him several times during the remainder of their meal and it made him uncomfortable. He was quickly beginning to count the minutes until this horrible trip was over. He must be the most unattractive guy in the world. The fucking ugliest dude ever. There was no other explanation for Doug not noticing him. He was just one big, ugly fuck.

***

Tor came close to refusing to go to Calakmul with Doug. The day was already much hotter than the previous one and he was so pent up with frustrated sexual energy that he had a headache. His cock was perennially hard in his shorts and no amount of jacking off helped. It sucked. 

It really fucking sucked.

When Doug emerged from his room wearing only a tiny pair of white shorts and a muscle-hugging tank, though, Tor changed his mind. He didn’t even bother concealing his lustful stare as he drank in the sight of him. OMG, Doug Haslett was one hot fucker! Hotter than fuck! Shit, he was…

“Uh, dude, you ready to go?” Doug asked lightly, every bit his usual buoyant self.

Reluctance evaporating, Tor jumped up from the couch, exclaiming, “I’m fucking there!” as he held the door open for Doug. He leered down at the man’s big, hot ass as he walked under Tor’s arm.

Doug laughed, looking back at him nervously. “You doing Ok, sport? You seem…different.”

“Fuck, man! I’m doin’ great! Let’s hit it!”

Doug wrinkled his brow. “Glad to see you’re excited to see the ruins, Tor. It’ll be fun!”

***

The day was so murderously hot that the ruins were nearly empty of tourists when they drove into the parking area at end of the long, dusty access road. The guard at the entry gate waved them through, not wanting to be bothered with leaving the air-conditioned comfort of his booth to collect the fee. 

Doug looked over at Tor and laughed, spreading his hands. “Looks like July is the time to visit Calakmul, bud! We got the place to ourselves!”

Tor didn’t reply. He merely fixed the man with a lingering stare, letting his eyes travel down his toned, sweaty torso. If Doug noticed his scrutiny, though, he didn’t show it. He pulled up under the shade of a tree and raised the top of the convertible, reminding Tor to bring his water bottle. After gazing around the empty parking lot, he slung his daypack over his shoulder and marched toward the park entrance. Tor savored the sight of those big, square buttocks bulging against the tiny, white shorts for a moment before jogging to catch up.

Doug shed his tank top soon after entering the park. Tor did the same, doing his best to flex and strut whenever he thought Doug might be watching him. Looking down critically at his body, he saw that it wasn’t just his imagination, his muscles really were popping under his deeply tanned skin. Why the fuck didn’t Doug see how ripped he was? He had a bangin’ bod! Why wasn’t Doug looking at him?

Then it hit him.

Maybe Doug wasn’t gay?

Maybe his mother was wrong!

Oh, shit! What if she was wrong?!

Tor’s heart started pounding in his chest with horrible thought. Holy shit! If Doug wasn’t gay, then what the fuck was the point? Fuck, he’d just made a total ass of himself for the past two days for nothing! Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck!

FUCK!

He was so distraught that he didn’t notice that they had reached the base of a huge temple. This one was even bigger than the one in Cobá and its mighty foundation stretched out for over a hundred meters. If Tor hadn’t been so verklempt, he would have been impressed. Really impressed!

As it was, though, it barely registered. Only when Doug let his pack slide to his feet and, whooping loudly, charged up the steps did Tor look up. And then it was only to stare at the man’s muscular bubble butt as it came perilously close to exploding out of his shorts.

His breath stopped.

His pulse hammered.

His cock pulsed.

And he was off!

Emitting a deep, resonant growl, he stormed up the stairs, determined this time to catch and pass Doug. He had such a huge erotic charge built up that he had to burn it off somehow. He fucking had to! He couldn’t stand one more minute of this torture! If Doug was straight, then the only thing he could do is burn through this misery with intense, physical exertion. He had to fucking wear himself out!

Tor bolted up the stairs, surging past Doug after about fifty feet. Doug, however, was not to be outdone and Tor’s watched incredulously as the man pulled even with him again seconds later. Cursing, he redoubled his efforts, heedless of the murderous heat and humidity.

He had to beat Doug!

He had to fucking beat him!

They remained even with each other for another ten seconds, the steep steps flying past as their legs pumped furiously. Sweat was flying off Doug’s body, splattering Tor. Tor shook his head, suppressing the roar that was building inside his chest, and desperately tried to eke more speed from his aching legs. He couldn’t let Doug win! He was a fucking invalid for god’s sake!

Doug passed him.

For the second time, Doug fucking passed him.

Tor couldn’t believe it.

How was it possible?

How was it fucking…

Fucking…

Fucking…?

?

??

???

!

!!

!!!

At first, he thought he was delusional, that his fever-pitch libido and excessive exertion were playing tricks with his mind.

He blinked.

He blinked again.

He wasn’t imagining it.

Doug was wearing a camouflage thong under his shorts!

A fucking camo thong!

Doug Haslett had a motherfucking thong on!

The elastic band had slipped out of his shorts and now rested irresistibly over the top of his blocky buttocks, all but caressing those perfect orbs as the central string ran alluring down into the hairy cleft–of which at least two inches were now visible–of his fucking unbelievable ass.

Tor might be fast approaching insanity but he knew one thing for certain: Straight dudes don’t wear thongs. Well, Ok, some did but not when they were racing to the top of Mayan temples.

Doug Haslett really was gay.

Doug-Fucking-Haslett was queer as fuck!

He skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over the next step. He was only about ten steps from the top and he stared up at Doug, watching the sexy thing as he threw his arms up in exultation, doing a little victory dance when he reached the top.

And then…

And then…

And then…

Time skidded to a halt. Or at least it slowed way down.

Time…slowed…down…

Tor swallowed, feeling saliva trickle down his parched throat. He didn’t need to look up to know that Doug’s eyes were on him. He didn’t need to look up to know that the man’s arms froze in mid air before slowly falling as he registered Tor’s expression. He didn’t need to look up but he did anyway because at that moment it felt as if the Mayan jaguar god himself rose up from its ancestral mound and possessed him.

Tor became an animal.

A hot-blooded, lust-filled animal.

And his prey was standing only ten feet above him, drenched in delicious sweat and chest heaving with exhaustion.

The sacrifice was ready.

He didn’t wait.

He didn’t fucking need to.

He was the motherfucking jaguar god!

Doug didn’t stand a chance. The Tor-Animal launched itself up the steps, crushing him under his superior weight, his muscles engorged and ready for battle. Ready for battle…and for sex. Throwing the man backward against the stone altar, Tor shredded Doug’s shorts, taking them in his hands and rending them apart. He tossed the shreds aside as he savagely forced Doug facedown against the rock, ignoring his cries of pain as he shoved his own shorts down around his knees. Spitting into his hand, he slathered his cock and paused briefly to admire his prize: Those mesmerizing orbs of goodness bisected by that slender string, that slender string that was pressing against the tender man-bud, the deliciously moist gateway to paradise, the one part of Doug-Fucking-Haslett that Tor longed to meet, to tear apart, to fucking destroy with his pulsating, red-hot poker.

He fucked Doug Haslett.

He fucked him hard and fast and furiously, impaling him over and over and over with his ridiculously engorged cock, thrusting and grunting and sweating, until he exploded inside him. He gloried in the way the man writhed beneath him, screaming like a fucking baby, as Tor’s tool pumped him full of pungent man spunk. His spunk. His seed. His manhood.

He made Doug his bitch.

Doug Haslett was his fucking bitch.

Tor Riggs owned Doug Haslett’s pussy.

Tor Riggs was the fucking man.

The fucking man.

***

“Ow.”

Tor’s eyes fluttered open and beheld his prize, the magnificent Doug Haslett, cradled in his arms. They were still lying on the stone slab atop the temple as the sun beat down on them and the dry forest below crackled with heat. Insects buzzed softly and howler monkeys grunted in the distance but there was no birdsong. Apparently, even the birds took a siesta in the middle of the day when it was this hot.

“I wonder if this is what the Maya meant by blood sacrifice?” Doug asked, lifting his bloody elbow and examining the long abrasion torn across it. He cocked his head and Tor saw that the rock slab was coated with his blood.

In answer, Tor grabbed his arm and licked it clean, smacking his tongue against his lips and giving Doug a satisfied smile.

Doug’s eyes went briefly wide before he laughed. “Good thing I don’t have any bloodborne diseases…and hopefully you don’t, either.” He grimaced and eased his ass off Tor’s cock (Tor was still hard and pulsing inside him), adding, “Especially good because we didn’t use condoms.” 

He fixed Tor with a parental look, preparing to admonish him further but Tor cut him off. “Shut the fuck up, bitch, and get back on my dick.”

***

He refused to let Doug get dressed after fucking him and made him walk the entire circuit of Calakmul wearing only his camo thong and flipflops. They got some funny stares from the few tourists and park rangers they encountered but Tor merely placed a proprietary hand on Doug’s shoulder and glared back at them. The passersby quickly looked away.

“You’re an animal,” Doug purred, leaning up against him and shivering when Tor licked his ear.

“And you’re a fucking slut.”

Doug laughed, saying, “I’ve heard that before.”

Tor reached down and yanked on the back of his thong, pulling the string up against Doug’s cum-slathered hole and laughing at the man’s pitiful complaint.

***

Tor drove the car back to the bungalow, leaning back in the seat and pulling Doug’s sweaty body against him. He felt alive–so fucking alive!–and happier than he could remember. He hadn’t been this happy since before his father’s injury, since he’d had a father, since…

A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and he wiped it away quickly. He didn’t want to think about his dad right then, especially after what he’d just done to his best friend. God, what had he just done to Doug? Leaving the park seemed to snap him out of a trance and he looked down at himself, seeing his huge cock lying on his stomach (he hadn’t bothered slipping it back inside his shorts after getting in the car.) It was encrusted with dried cum and…other stuff. And, shit, what the fuck was wrong with it?

He reached down and lifted it from the scratchy mess of his strange, spidery pubes.

What the fuck?

Doug noticed his movement and stared down at his cock, commenting, “I didn’t know you were uncircumsized, Tor.”

His mouth was hanging open. He shut it with a snap, sputtering, “I…I’m not!”

He gaped at his manhood, not recognizing it. It was so big and fat and dark and…covered with a long, thick wad of skin on the end. A foreskin. He had a fucking foreskin!

But…how?

***

Doug treated him like a king. Like a fucking king. The man was such a skilled lover that Tor quickly forgot all about the mysterious appearance of skin on the end of his dick. All he cared about was being with Doug. His man. His beautiful man!

“I really tried to be the adult and not lead you on, Tor,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly that evening as they lay next to each other on the sofa of their bungalow. Doug was still wearing his little thong and Tor was naked, lying back as Doug teased his cock with a finger. “But you wore me down, sport. After the run this morning and the incident in the bathroom, I gave in.” He hung his head and Tor reached over and flipped off his baseball cap, tousling his thinning hair. “You were just too fucking sexy. And I’ve been so lonely ever since…”

Tor leaned down and kissed him, smiling as Doug’s five o’clock shadow scratched his face. “Shhhh,” he breathed, lifting his head and looking toward the bathroom. “Let’s take a shower. I’m a mess and I wanna get you naked.”

Doug stiffened in his arms. And Tor looked down questioningly at him. Doug wouldn’t meet his gaze. Shaking his head, he said, “No.”

Tor nudged him with an elbow and tried to pull him up but Doug resisted. “Come on, bitch,” he teased. “I want you naked!”

Doug hugged his knees to his chest and turned away from him. His face was red as he stated emphatically, “I said no. Now leave me alone.”

Feeling an unfamiliar sensation in his chest, Tor sat down on a corner of the sofa, perplexed. “But, why?” His voice, which had been so resonant and booming up to that moment, now sounded forlorn, young.

“Tor, I…” Doug started to say before his voice broke off. As Tor watched, the man began to shake.

Placing a hand on his back, Tor coaxed him into his arms and then lifted him off the couch, carrying him into the bathroom. When Doug realized what he was doing, he resisted with increasing ferocity but Tor was undeterred. Throwing him down in the shower, he turned on the water and then wrestled with him, finally managing to tear off his thong. Doug cried out as the flimsy piece of fabric gave way, exposing his shaved pubes.

Tor tossed it aside and stared down triumphantly at his man, now fully naked, now fully his, now fully…

“What the fucking shit?!”

Doug clapped his hands over his crotch, lifting his head to fix Tor with a poisonous glare. “I told you to fucking leave me alone! Now get out of here!” He pointed to the door while keeping one hand firmly locked over his groin.

Stunned, Tor almost started to obey before something strange happened…or, more precisely, something happened that felt strange at the time but which in the coming days would become an increasingly normal part of his experience. Soon, Tor would claim it as his own, the bedrock of his identity, the heart of his manhood. 

In that moment, the same monumental and undisputedly alpha male energy that had possessed him back at the ruins flooded through him. It coursed through his body starting with his cock and quickly radiating upward and downward. In a second, he was a towering wall of muscle and pure will that could not–would not!–be stopped.

Pulling himself up to his full height, he rounded on Doug. The man shrank back from him, cowering in the corner as Tor took hold of his arms and wrenched them away from his crotch. Lifting his lip, he sneered, “Don’t you ever fucking resist me again! Do you hear me?” When Doug didn’t answer, he backhanded him hard across the face. Doug’s head snapped back and he stared fearfully up at Tor as blood trickled out of his nostrils. Tor nodded, crossing his arms and stating flatly, “Good. Now clean me up. I still got your shit on my dick.”

***

“The explosion blew off your cock and balls, huh?”

Doug froze, refusing to look at him. They were still in the shower, the water was dripping behind them as moths buzzed in the light overhead. The evening had cooled off. It felt delicious. Delicious. Just like everything about Doug Haslett.

Tor sighed, taking the man’s chin in his hand and lifting his face up to his own. He kissed him and pulled away, saying, “It’s fucking hot.”

He stroked the rounded nub of flesh that was the remnant of Doug’s manhood. The plastic surgeons must have sculpted it to emulate the size and shape of a man’s package. And, as long as he was wearing underwear, it looked like he had a bulge but, when he was naked, it was obvious that he had nothing down there.

“I’m a Ken Doll.”

“More like a GI Joe doll.”

“Fuck you.”

Tor let out an exaggerated growl, warning, “Don’t make me hit you again.” 

Grinning impishly, Doug started to retort but Tor stopped him with another kiss. Reaching down, he traced a finger over the man’s rounded nub. “It’s really fucking hot, man. I mean it. You couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not fucking teasing you, bitch,” Tor said lightly, puckering his lips and giving him a series of little kisses. Doug smiled and relaxed in his arms. “But I do have a question,” he continued, heart melting a little when Doug’s eye met his.

“Yeah?”

“How do you pee? And can you still cum?”

Doug flushed, looking down. “That was two questions.”

“Whatever.”

Sighing, Doug said in a low voice, “I have to squat and pee–or sit down on the toilet. If you look closely, you’ll see I have a tiny piss slit underneath my, um, well, whatever it is…”

“Your nub.”

Doug winced. “Yeah, my…nub.”

“Hot.”

“And I inject myself with male hormones and still have a prostate so I can cum…a little.” He stopped and lifted his head to fix Tor with a pleading look. “Can…we talk about something else?”

“No.”

“You’re a cruel man, Tor.”

“You love it.”

Doug nodded, admitting, “Yes, I do.” 

He took a breath, hesitating, and Tor squeezed him, prompting, “I give you my permission to talk, bitch.”

The corner of Doug’s mouth lifted. “Thank you, sir.”

Tor laughed, challenging, “I can’t hear you!”

“THANK YOU, SIR!” Doug shouted, his clear voice ringing through the bungalow.

Tor smirked. “That’s better. Now what were you gonna ask?”

Doug hung his head. When he spoke, his voice was barely a mumble. “Do you…think less of me because…?”

“Because you don’t have a cock and balls?”

Tor had to strain to hear his soft reply: “Yes.”

He laughed, a deep, pleasant sound. “A little. But you still got a hole, don’t you?”

“Obviously.”

Tor nodded. “There. That’s all I need. To be honest, I never cared about your dick. It’s your ass that got all my attention.”

This elicited a little titter from Doug that was so adorable that Tor drew the man to him, marveling at his toned, hard, and hairy body. A man’s body. Doug Haslett was 100% man. 100% Tor’s man.

Doug nuzzled against Tor’s neck and didn’t resist when Tor took his mound in his hand and squeezed. Doug moaned. Tor squeezed again, saying, “You like that, huh, bitch?”

Doug nodded weakly, mouth hanging open. He had a bruise forming on his cheek from where Tor had hit him. “Yeah, but…I…can’t…cum,” he panted. “Not without a vibrator.”

“A vibrator, huh?” Tor challenged, reveling in his newfound power and sexual prowess. “I’ve got a fucking vibrator for you.” 

With that, he propelled Doug backward out of the bathroom, through the living area, and into his bedroom, shoving him down so he was left splayed across the bed. Doug scrambled back and looked up at Tor with round eyes as he launched himself at him, landing hard on top. He let the full weight of his body crash into the man and almost knocked the wind out of him. As Doug gasped, Tor’s hips got busy and soon his cock was rubbing fiercely against Doug’s little mound as his mouth devoured his lips and their tongues wrestled for dominance.

Tor won, of course.

Tor would always win.

Tor was the man.

***

Doug was crying, his face pressing into Tor’s chest and his whole body shaking. Tor smiled affectionately, letting him sob, content just to hold him, to feel his firm body against his own. For the millionth time, he thought, Doug Haslett is the fucking sexiest man alive and I am his man. How the fuck could things get better than that?

“You Ok, babe?” he asked finally when Doug’s tears had subsided.

Doug took a shuddering breath before answering in a small voice, “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t think I would ever be able to cum like that again. I thought…”

“Shhh, babe,” Tor soothed. “You’re mine now and I know how to treat you right.”

This precipitated another bout of crying and Tor waited patiently, touched by Doug’s willingness to trust him, to let himself be taken care of by a man who was still technically a boy. In that moment, he realized he loved Doug Haslett.

He fucking loved Doug Haslett!

***

They stretched out their vacation-within-a-vacation for over a week…and Tor worked furiously to stretch out Doug’s hole by a similar amount. On their last night alone together, they stayed in the beautiful, colonial era city of Campeche where Doug treated him to a luxurious dinner at a restaurant just off the main square. Tor ordered fish in chilimole, a local specialty that was quickly becoming his favorite. He drank in the sight of Doug across the table, feeling his heart pound proudly. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured and Doug flushed. “Fucking beautiful.” He reached out and squeezed his hand, stroking his fingers fondly. Doug had the most beautiful hands!

“You make me feel like…” his voice trailed off and Doug looked away.

Tor’s lips quirked. “Like what? A whore?”

Doug laughed, glancing back at him. “Well, yeah, that, too. But…”

“But, what?”

“Tor,” Doug said evenly. “I need to tell you something. Promise me that you won’t get angry?”

“Can’t promise you anything, bitch,” Tor joked, smiling devilishly.

“This is serious, Tor. I should have told you a long time ago.” He fixed him with his limpid gaze and Tor lost himself for a moment like he always did when Doug looked at him–really looked at him. Doug knew how to eyeball a man! His voice was slow when he spoke and he held Tor’s eyes with his own.  “I was your father’s sub, too. I belonged to him just like I belong to you now. I…loved him. I mean, I still do. I love your dad.”

Tor paused, taking this in, letting it wash over him, letting the meaning behind the words penetrate him, touch him, soak into him. He blinked. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He let it go and it splattered on the tabletop. Grasping Doug’s hand tightly, he swallowed and stared into his beautiful, blue eyes.

“Good,” he said. “Good.”

***

They were sitting on the balcony of their top-floor hotel room. Tor was naked and Doug was straddling his lap as Tor thrust his cock inside him, teasing him with little thrusts. The breeze off the gulf was sweltering but it didn’t matter. By that point, both men had grown acclimated to the heat. Gulls flew languidly overhead and little boats chugged toward the harbor as the huge, red orb of the sun descended over the water.

“You gettin’ loose, bitch.”

Doug’s eyes rolled back in his head as he grunted, “Fuck you.”

Tor bucked his hips, causing Doug to cry out. “That’s not how you talk to me, slut.”

“Fuck you.”

Grimacing, Tor picked him up and carried him to the bed, keeping his pole firmly lodged inside him the whole way. After slamming him down and fucking him to within an inch of his life, Tor pulled out and, grabbing his cock and aiming at Doug’s face, sprayed him with cum as the man writhed on the sheets under him, lapping Tor’s juices and moaning like a bitch in heat.

Tor smirked down at him, savoring his conquest for a moment before commencing to torment his lover’s smooth nub with his still-hard cock, driving Doug to the brink of exquisite insanity until he came in a violent climax, a little rivulet of clear fluid leaking out of the crease between his legs.

“I…think I’m more sensitive down there,” Doug panted as Tor settled on the bed next to him. “Your cock is like a fucking magic wand or something. Even when I had a dick, it didn’t feel that good.”

“Huh,” Tor grunted. “Maybe you’re just getting sluttier?”

Doug laughed. “Well, yeah. But seriously, Tor, I feel different. It feels good. Really good!”

Something about his tone sobered Tor and he smiled, saying, “I’m happy. That makes me really happy.”

Doug leaned over and kissed his neck. “Tor, speaking of being a slut…?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“You know we can’t…keep doing…this…when we go back, right?”

Tor’s eyes flew open as he demanded, “What? What do you mean?”

“Woah, boy!” Doug placated, placing his hand on Tor’s wrist. “I’m not saying that we can’t still be together. We will just have to be more careful. For instance, even though I’m proud to be your whore, your slut, your cum dump…”

“Now yer talkin’…”

“Your submissive bitch,” Doug continued, reaching down and rubbing his nub with a finger and trembling. “We will have to be really careful. The others, especially your mom and Jaz, can’t know what we’re doing.” When Tor started to protest, he held up his hand, explaining, “Even though you’re my man, Tor, you are still legally a boy and I could go to jail for seducing you.”

“You didn’t–”

“It doesn’t matter!” Doug interrupted. “You’re seventeen years old. I’m twenty-nine. That makes me the perpetrator. I know I’m taking a huge risk here, sir,” he winked as he said this and Tor flushed, “but I’m hoping you are mature enough to handle it. You will have to be very grown up from now on if you want to keep me out of prison. You could destroy me with one wrong word, Tor.”

“I will fucking destroy–” Tor said before pausing significantly to add, “your hole, bitch!”

With that, he pounced on top of Doug and, throwing the man’s legs up over his shoulders, pummeled him into submission for the fifth time that evening.

***

Tor returned to Cancun a new man. He felt so pumped, so proud, so fucking alive! Doug Haslett was his bitch and Tor Riggs was the man! The big man. The one. The best. The biggest. The fucking king!

He leaped off the ferry and jogged to the condo on Isla Mujeres feeling victory course through his veins. He couldn’t wait for his mom and Jaz to see him! He couldn’t wait for them to see how much he’d grown up! He’d left a boy and returned a red-blooded American stud! And it was all thanks to Doug Fucking Haslett!

He raced up the steps and blew through the door, grinning from ear to ear. Jaz and Dan Eldridge were sitting at the kitchen table. They looked up as he entered and Jaz’s eyes went round. Dan sprang up from the table, holding his palms out at Tor, sputtering in his southern drawl, “Hey, now! I think you found yourself in the wrong place, boy.”

Something about the way he pronounced the word ‘boy’ irked Tor and it wasn’t just because he now thought of himself as a man. It was something else…

He stopped, putting his hands on his hips. Before he could say anything, though, Jaz interjected, “Holy shit! Is that you, Tor?”

Tor glanced over at him, his brow wrinkling. “Uh, yeah, bro. Who the fuck else would it be?”

“A nig–” Doug started to say before Jaz sat up and put a heavy hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

“You need to go look in the mirror, bro,” Jaz said in an awed voice. “You won’t fucking believe it.”

Tor stood there, chest heaving and feeling his excitement ebbing as confusion took over. At that moment, Doug opened the door and stepped inside. Taking note of the tense atmosphere, he turned questioningly to Tor. Tor knew that he was worried that he’d somehow revealed their affair to Dan and Jaz but he didn’t have the wherewithal right then to do anything but walk on wooden legs into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him and turning to face the mirror, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

His cry of “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” rang loud and clear throughout the condo complex.

With those three words, Tor’s life changed completely and forever.

***

TOR – Part B (Picks up several weeks later…)

Chapter 1

Dr. Salaam Khan steepled his fingers and observed Tor from across his desk. Tor grimaced. Could this guy be any more of a stereotypical therapist? He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair.

“Tor,” Dr. Khan said, getting up and sitting in the chair next to him. “Tell me about what happened. I hear you were recently released from a detention center. Something about immigration?”

Tor looked away, refusing to answer. He hated being here. Hated that Doug and his mother had forced him to come. Hated to be asked anything–anything!–about the nightmare he had endured returning to the United States after being hauled away by Immigration and Customs Enforcement at the Cancun airport.

Dr. Khan cleared his throat. “Don’t feel like talking? That’s fine. We can sit here quietly together for an hour until your appointment is over.”

Tor frowned and settled deeper into his chair, pulling out his phone and flicking through Instagram.

They sat.

And sat.

And sat.

Dr. Khan was apparently a very patient man because he sat unmoving the whole time next to Tor. When Tor looked over at him, the man appeared to be meditating. His eyes were closed and his hands were lying palm upward on his knees.

“What’re you doing?” he asked finally, feeling creeped out by the preternatural stillness of the man.

“Just closing my eyes.”

“You look like you’re meditating.”

Dr. Khan smiled but remained silent. He was, Tor realized, quite a handsome man. Appearing to be about thirty years old, he had a closely-trimmed beard and short, thick, black hair. He wore a band on the ring finger of his left hand.

“You married?”

Dr. Khan nodded.

“To a woman?”

“What do you want my answer to be?”

Tor sighed. “Just fuck off. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Ever the good therapist, Dr. Khan refused to be baited. Instead, he opened his beautiful, brown eyes and fixed him with a penetrating stare. “You know, Tor, I believe we have something in common.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong. You see, like you, my father was hospitalized in a coma during the war in Afghanistan. He lived for three years before finally dying when I was eighteen.” Tor sat up stiffly in his chair but, before he could say anything, Dr. Khan continued. “And, like you, I suffered in a detention center for several weeks before being admitted as a refugee to the United States.”

“I don’t–”

Dr. Khan held up his hand, silencing him. “And, like you, I know what it is like to suddenly find myself, a brown man, in a sea of white people.”

“I’m turning black, not brown,” Tor pointed out, not feeling like talking about this.

“Yes, that is true. In this country, there is a wide gulf between the two skin colors,” Dr. Khan agreed, “but you’re not a Muslim, nor do you look like the American media’s stereotype of a terrorist like I do. It’s not exactly the same but I know what it’s like to live in a society that fears me.”

Tor stood up, feeling acutely uncomfortable. He looked at the door. Nothing was stopping him from leaving… Dr. Khan looked up at him, his gaze unreadable. Tor swallowed. He looked from the therapist to the office door and back.

“Why don’t you sit down and talk to me,” Dr. Khan entreated, motioning with his hand to the empty chair. “I think we can find a few things to chat about.”

***

At the supermarket later, Tor was in the produce aisle when he noticed the young stocker watching him. He sighed. It had been like this ever since he’d…changed…into a black man. Everywhere he went now, people watched him. They hadn’t done that when he was white. He gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice or care. But, of course, he did both of the things.

Just get the stuff Mom sent you here for and go, he told himself, feeling suddenly like all eyes in the store were on him. He looked around and noticed he was the only black guy in there. There were a couple Asians and maybe a Latino or two but everyone else was white. Before…the change…he’d never paid attention to who was around him–who was white and who was black. Now he was conscious everywhere he went of his race. He couldn’t blend in. He was too dark. Too tall. Too nappy-headed.

Too black.

He looked up and made eye contact with the produce stocker, staring at him defiantly, and the boy looked away but not before his gaze dropped down to Tor’s crotch and lingered there for a moment too long. 

So that’s what you’re after, Tor thought, eyes narrowing and cock stiffening. 

Tor was wearing a loose pair of basketball shorts but his cock was so big now that it was always on display no matter what he wore. At first, after getting out of the detention center, he’d been self-conscious and tried to hide his size, wearing tight jockstraps that left him feeling lightheaded. After a few weeks, though, he’d outgrown even the most generous cup size and he was forced to swing free. On the rare occasions when he wasn’t sulking about his race change and how unfair the world was treating him, he found it amusing to watch people–guys, mostly–ogle his big dick.

Like right now.

Lowering his shopping basket to his side and giving the stocker a clear view of his huge cock, the outline of which was now luridly pressing against his white nylon shorts, he raised his head and locked eyes with the boy. The kid flushed and looked down.

Then back up.

You know you want it.

Tor smirked as he lifted his eyebrows, letting his eyes drop down to his crotch. He pulsed his dick, making it jerk against the sheer fabric of his shorts. The kid’s eyes went wide. Tor winked. The kid almost dropped the head of lettuce he was prepping.

He was actually quite good looking. Probably about Tor’s age, shortish and broad-shouldered, brown hair, brown eyes, red baseball cap turned around backwards. A black apron with a name tag that read ‘Jimmy’.

Yeah, cute kid. Definitely fuckable, Tor thought, licking his full lips and causing the boy to blush scarlet. Tor’s smirk deepened and the boy turned to the side, giving him a view of his ass encased in a tight pair of jeans. The apron strings accentuated his narrow waist but the jeans accentuated something else…

Shit! White boy with a big butt! White boy with a big butt!

His cock was more than half hard at this point and hanging halfway to his knees. Jimmy was beside himself, unable to keep his eyes off it and Tor was more than happy to let him stare.

He sauntered up to the cooler, pretending to examine cucumbers. His shoulder brushed against Jimmy’s and the boy quivered with excitement.

“Wanna suck it?” he whispered.

Jimmy nodded.

Tor smiled. “Where can we go?”

Jimmy’s ears had turned the most adorable shade of pink. He jerked his head toward a set of silver, swinging doors and all but darted inside. Tor looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. He shrugged and followed the kid inside.

***

Jimmy was waiting for him inside the giant, backstock produce cooler just inside the swinging doors. Tor smiled to himself as he pulled out on the handle to the huge, insulated door, glancing around before entering. The backroom was empty. There was a long row of sinks and a bunch of industrial shelving filled with boxes of citrus, onions, potatoes, and other vegetables. It smelled vaguely of rotting produce.

Perfect, Tor thought. No one to walk in on us.

He yanked back on the big door and was met with a wave of cool, moist air. Jimmy was standing just inside, surrounded by boxes of produce, his eyes wide and his cheeks rosy. He looked pretty freaked out.

“This your first time with a guy?” Tor inquired as he squared his shoulders and flexed his arms. It might be Jimmy’s first time but Tor was a pro at such encounters. If there was one upside to his change, it was that his sex life had improved exponentially. The whole world, it seemed, couldn’t get enough of his big cock.

Jimmy nodded, unable to do anything but stare at Tor’s enormous member jutting stiff as a board in front of him. Tor surveyed him appraisingly. Jimmy was a hottie alright. An upturned nose, long lashes, doe eyes, and pillowy lips. He could feel himself leaking at the mere sight of him. Add in the boy’s obvious willingness to do anything to please him and–Ungh!–Tor was about ready to shoot.

He reached out and pushed Jimmy down onto his knees before placing his hands on his hips. The boy stared up at him breathlessly, his eyes full of fear and desire. He looked, Tor realized, like the proverbial dog that had finally caught the car. Now that he’d attained his goal, he was terrified of what came next.

“C’mon,” Tor urged. “Suck it.”

He thrust his hips forward, his nylon-covered erection catching Jimmy under the chin. The boy swallowed and lifted his shaking hands up to grasp the waistband of Tor’s shorts. All at once, he yanked them down and Tor’s magnificent pole sprang out in all of its glory. Fully thirteen inches long and dark as night, his cock was nearly as thick as his forearm and was leaking pre prodigiously. Both he and Jimmy stared at it in shock. Even though it belonged to him, Tor still felt a wave of disbelief whenever he saw it. Something that big and that black should not belong to him. He was white. He was…

No.

He shook his head. He wasn’t white anymore. He was black. Not brown but black black black! His skin was the shade you only saw on people in Haiti or Africa. People who were in the sun all day. People whose skin was so dark that it was almost purple.

That was who he was now.

He was a black man.

He was–

“Ungh!”

Unaware of Tor’s inner turmoil, Jimmy quickly overcame his initial shock and startled Tor by slicking back his long foreskin and all at once devouring his cock. Tor’s eyes rolled back in his head as Jimmy swallowed him…whole?

Holy fucking shit!

The kid was taking the whole thing in his mouth!

And he wasn’t gagging!?

Tor’s face broke into a huge grin and he moaned loudly.

Christ! No guy had been able to swallow him like this before! It was fucking amazing! It was fucking–

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!”

Overwhelmed by the new and ecstatic feelings washing over his cock, he exploded in Jimmy’s hot mouth. He convulsed, spewing what felt like quarts of cum down the boy’s throat, his whole body screaming electric with orgasm. It left him feeling weak, sagging down as he struggled to catch his breath. He squatted, placing his hands on his knees, expecting Jimmy to withdraw but the little cum-guzzler just kept sucking. And sucking and sucking.

In less than a minute, Tor was hard again. 

Expecting another stellar blowjob like the first, Jimmy surprised him by pulling back. Tor’s cock flopped out of his mouth, sticking out fatter and harder than he remembered it. Had it just grown ever bigger? He was staring at it in confusion, feeling the cool, moist air of the cooler caress it almost lovingly, when Jimmy stood up and, flipping his apron over his head and tossing it onto a nearby stack of boxes, unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans down.

Tor looked up and locked eyes with the boy. “Jimmy…” he began but the kid shook his head, sliding his pants down his ripe thighs. His boxers followed and soon Tor was staring at the boy’s erection–long and fat for a white guy–bobbing pink and circumcised before him. Jimmy didn’t give him long to admire it, though. He was already turning to present Tor with his full, juicy ass. The boy’s skin was pale and smooth, barely brushed with a light coating of brown fuzz. His ass cheeks jiggled and swayed in an alluring fashion as another moan escaped Tor’s lips.

“Wait,” he managed to choke, reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom. “Put this on me first.”

Jimmy halted, looking askance at him over his shoulder before reluctantly complying. He took the foil package out of his hand and, holding it between his teeth, tore it open. His eyes were hungry, almost feral as he stared down at Tor, reaching out to roll the condom onto his shaft.

Tor shivered, feeling like the hunter who had just become the hunted. This boy was on fire… 

The condoms were the largest size available on the market. Made by a Jamaican company, they were the only ones that fit over Tor’s massive endowment. Out of concern for his health and safety, Doug had tracked them down soon after Tor was released from the immigration detention center. While in custody, Tor had had numerous episodes of unprotected sex and Doug insisted that he wear them until his lab results came back. ‘You might have avoided getting HIV,’ he counseled, ‘but that doesn’t mean you didn’t pick up something else.’ Tor hated the feel of the latex over his shaft but he didn’t want to risk spreading infection, either.

The condom was on.

Jimmy turned around and, reaching back to grab his cheeks, spread them wide open. Tor blinked, feeling his cock spasm at the sight of that tender, pink hole. There was no way that hole had been fucked before. No way. Especially not by a cock his size!

“Jimmy, hold on!” he managed to gasp. “We need to slow down.”

The boy froze, giving him another sidelong glance over his shoulder. Tor gritted his teeth, mustering all of his self-restraint as he took the boy by the hips and pulled him toward him. He turned his head and spit into his palm, slicking up his cock. He spit again, making sure the condom was good and wet. When he was satisfied he was slicked up, he took Jimmy in his arms and hugged him, lowering his head to nuzzle his ear. The boy sighed, quivering under his touch. Tor’s huge cock was resting between the kid’s soft thighs and Jimmy teased him by clenching them together.

“Ungh!”

Tor exhaled and, lowering his still-moist hand, teased the boy’s nubile pucker with a finger. Jimmy shuddered, a low moan escaping his lips. Tor smiled and pushed his finger in deeper. The kid’s hole was tight. Super tight! He was going to have to work at this. He pushed in deeper before inserting a second finger. Jimmy moaned again, this time more loudly. Tor grinned as he felt the boy relax, his hot, wet hole eagerly enveloping his fingers. He stuck in a third finger and a fourth.

Jimmy was ready.

“Here we go,” he breathed, nibbling the boy’s ear as he guided his blunt cockhead upward, resting it for a moment against that hungry hole. Jimmy cried out, all but pleading with him to enter. Tor bent his knees slightly before thrusting up.

He was in!

Jimmy’s anal capacity matched his oral abilities because, within moments, he had swallowed the entirety of Tor’s monster. The two boys howled at the top of their lungs as Tor bore down on him, bending Jimmy forward and pummeling his hole with everything he had. When he realized he was getting ready to blow too soon, though, he restrained himself, pulling Jimmy close as he slowed down his thrusts. He pulled back, allowing most of his shaft to exit the kid’s chute, and then pushed in hard. Jimmy cried out in ecstasy and Tor did it again. And again, finally reaching forward to take the boy’s fat cock in his hand and jacking him in time with his thrusts.

Finding the perfect rhythm and speed, they lost themselves in the heat of passion, forgetting that they were in a drafty cooler on a cement floor in the middle of a supermarket. The room and the world faded from their minds. Their existence was stripped down to the bare minimum: Fucking and getting fucked. It was so primal, so carnal, so pleasurable that Tor almost didn’t notice when the condom broke. Feeling the friction of his bareskin against Jimmy’s moist cavity, though, woke him from his sex-induced trance and he stopped, eliciting a whimper of protest from his partner.

“It broke,” he explained. “We need to stop.”

Jimmy pushed harder against him in response, burying Tor’s sword to the hilt . “Cum inside me!” he begged. “Please!”

Tor shook his head, trying to extricate himself from the boy’s grip but Jimmy reached back and took him by the wrists, refusing to let go. He thrust his butt insistently against him, working Tor’s pole back and forth. Tor groaned at the exquisite friction, feeling the condom split in two until there was nothing between him and the horny little stocker.

“N-N-No,” he stammered. “S-S-Stop!”

It was too late.

Cum was already jetting out of him, filling that juicy, tight hole. Filling Jimmy with loads and loads of his seed. Despite his frustration with being forced into having unprotected sex, Tor lost himself in the overwhelming bliss of being one with the boy. He stroked Jimmy to frenzy at the same time, sending the boy into the erotic stratosphere as he enjoyed his first anal orgasm. They locked together, Tor pumping and pumping and pumping.

The orgasm was so fierce and fun that it took Tor a while to realize that Jimmy’s ass felt different the longer he pumped.

And so did his cock.

Tor opened his eyes, staring down at the boy’s generous backside.

Was it his imagination or was Jimmy’s ass…even more generous than before?

And was his cock…smaller?

He squeezed the boy’s shaft, testing it. Jimmy was still rock hard…and not quite half as big as he’d been just minutes ago. Tor remembered being impressed with the kid’s size. Now, however, the boy verged on being smaller than average (for a white guy.) His cock was still just as fat as ever…just shorter.

A lot shorter.

And his ass was…

A lot bigger.

Soft, pillowy, round and fucking gorgeous but much too big to belong to a kid with Jimmy’s build.

Tor stopped pumping and dropped the kid’s cock, struggling with conflicting desires. On the one hand, Jimmy’s ass and cock were perfect–Fucking perfect!–for a hungry bottom. On the other, shit! This wasn’t normal. Guys cocks didn’t shrink and their asses didn’t grow like that after sex! His head was clearing gradually as the warm afterglow of orgasm wore off and Tor became more and more freaked out. There simply wasn’t a logical explanation for this! There wasn’t! 

A loud slurping echoed through the cooler as he pulled his cock out of the kid’s tight hole. Jimmy whined, shoving his (really big, really soft) ass into him as Tor straightened, demanding that Tor take him into his arms.

“Hey, babe,” Tor began delicately, feeling his heart pound in his chest. “I think something went wrong.”

He held the boy to him, feeling both enjoyment and alarm at the full-body contact, his own broad chest fit the curves of Jimmy’s smaller back perfectly and his cock, well, let’s just say it nestled inside those beautiful cheeks perfectly, too. Jimmy’s new ass was so wide and so thick and so warm. It was intoxicating.

And wrong.

“We need to get dressed,” he said. “Something’s going on.”

Still oblivious, Jimmy turned and pressed his cheek against Tor’s shoulder as he reached up and moved Tor’s hands back onto his ass. Tor took those incredibly round and full globes in his hands and squeezed, feeling his cock respond. (Already? Shit! What was going on? He never recovered this quickly!) Exercising great will, though, Tor managed to force his attention away from the eager monster between his legs. He gently took Jimmy’s hands in his own, moving them down to rest on top of his own buttocks.

“See?”

There was a pause before Jimmy’s eyes grew round with shock. All at once, he shoved Tor away from him and struggled desperately to pull his jeans back up his meaty thighs. Doing so, however proved impossible. The jeans had been tight before but now there was no way he could force them up and over his new bubbles. He lowered his head, staring down at himself with confusion and alarm, his gaze landing belatedly on his much-reduced cock.

He wailed.

Tor’s heart twisted as the boy raised his head, tears in his eyes and lower lip jutting out. “What did you do to me?” he demanded, his voice rising. “What did you do?”

***

Chapter 2

Tor drove directly to Doug Haslett’s place from the grocery store. His head was spinning from his encounter with Jimmy and he was verging on panic. (What the fuck is going on with me? What the fuck did I do to him? WHAT THE FUCK!?) There was only one person he could confide in, one person who would understand, who would help, who would comfort him.

Doug Haslett.

He sped across town in his mother’s minivan, not caring that he’d forgotten to purchase the groceries she had asked him to pick up. Not caring about anything but getting to Doug. Getting to Doug. Getting to D–

Wait. What?

Who the FUCK is that?

He slammed on the brakes in front of Doug’s little ranch house with the garage that doubled as the man’s office. Doug was on the steps in front of the house, talking to a tall, black man. The guy was holding a clipboard in his big hands and smiling broadly as he chatted with Doug. This in itself wasn’t what caused Tor’s jealousy to spike. No, it wasn’t unusual for people to walk door to door through the neighborhood soliciting donations or asking for signatures on a petition.

What was unusual was Doug’s body language. His head was tipped back as he looked up at the guy, left foot was slightly forward on the step, nearly touching the man’s leg. A wide smile creased his face and his eyes twinkled. He crossed his arms as he talked, almost hugging himself as if he were telegraphing the desire to be held not by his own arms but by the man’s bigger, more muscular ones. From inside the car Tor couldn’t hear what they were saying but he could see from the way Doug talked that he was in a bubbly, happy mood. He was clearly glad to see the guy. More than glad…he obviously knew him and knew him well.

He was flirting!

Doug Haslett was flirting with another man!

Tor’s vision washed red as he forgot about his bizarre and unsettling encounter with Jimmy in the produce cooler. Jealousy, hot and bitter, saturated his body from head to toe, filling his heart with rage and his mouth with bile.

How dare Doug make eyes at another man! Doug was Tor’s bitch! His slut! His submissive cunt!

Doug-fucking-Haslett belonged to him and no one else!

Doug was his property!

He had exited the minivan and was storming across the yard before he knew what he was doing. Seeing his man flirting with another triggered a primal instinct to defend his territory and all he could think about was vanquishing this rival. His hands clenched into fists and his eyes hardened as he rounded on the man.

Doug became aware of his approach when he was only about a dozen feet from them. His eyes went briefly wide as he took in Tor’s enraged state and he acted, smoothly inserting himself between Tor and the man before Tor could do anything rash, saying hurriedly, “Dominic, I want you to meet Mal–who now goes by Tor–Sergeant Rigg’s son. You remember him, don’t you?”

The big man turned to Tor, a wave of surprised confusion playing across his face. He was, Tor realized, a black man built much like him, only beefier because Dominic was full grown whereas Tor, for all of his miraculous development, was still just a seventeen-year-old boy. A very developed seventeen-year-old but a boy nonetheless. Tor did have one thing to his advantage, though: He stood at least three inches taller than Dominic. Ha! he thought, sneering a little. I’m the bigger man!

“Tor…” Dominic said, sensitive brown eyes searching his face, “…Riggs?” He stopped, looking from Tor to Doug and back as if they were playing a joke on him. When neither said anything, though, he stammered, “B-B-But I thought…”

“You thought I was white,” Tor finished for him, understanding immediately why the man was so baffled. It was almost second nature by now, this having to explain his race change; he’d had to do it repeatedly over the past month since his release from the detention center. “I was white but I’m black now. No one knows how it happened. I just…you know, changed.”

“Changed?” Dominic repeated, eyes searching Tor’s face before inadvertently sliding down his body. While doing so, he took a step backward, something that pleased Tor greatly–he had succeeded in intimidating the guy!–but Dominic recovered quickly and extended his hand. “Jesus!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “You might be black now but you still look so much like your dad! It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Tor Riggs.”

Tor ignored this pathetic attempt to kiss his ass. He took the outstretched hand and gave it a very firm and decisive shake as his eyes locked onto Dominic’s. He put everything into that handshake, letting the guy know in no uncertain terms who was in charge. He could tell his message had been received when Dominic released his hand and looked down, flinching slightly. Tor felt a stab of pride. Take that, you motherfucker! he thought. And stay the fuck away from my man!

“I, uh, I need to be going,” Dominic mumbled, studiously avoiding eye contact with Tor as he turned back to Doug. “It was good to see you again, Doug. And thank you for signing my petition. I only need another hundred signatures to get my name on the ballot for the primary.”

“Good luck, Dominic!” Doug called out as the man started to leave. “You got my vote!”

Dominic stopped at this and cast Doug a grateful smile before waving goodbye. “Let’s get together soon,” he said, backing up off the lawn while still facing them. “We got a lot of catching up to do, Corporal!”  Tor scowled and his eyes narrowed when Dominic added, “And good to see you, too, Tor! Catcha later!”

“Who the fuck was that?” Tor demanded after Dominic was out of earshot. His voice cracked embarrassingly on these words and he scowled. He hated–HATED–when his voice cracked. It made him sound like a little kid again. He was a man, dammit! A man!

Doug regarded him, blond eyebrows knitting together. He took a deep breath as if about to speak but instead stepped aside, ushering Tor into his home. Tor glared angrily at him as he pushed past. He strode inside like he owned the place–like he owned Doug–and crossed his arms, looming over the smaller man.

“Tor,” Doug began, taking a step backward but keeping his eyes on his face, “that was Dominic Bettencourt, a fellow soldier from my old unit. As you no doubt gathered, Dominic and I served under your father. He and I…” his voice trailed off as his gaze became distant for a moment before snapping back to Tor’s face, “have always had a thing for each other.”

Tor’s mouth fell open. “‘A thing’?” he demanded, reeling from this admission. “You have a ‘thing’ for each other? What sort of ‘thing’ do you have exactly?” Jealousy curdled his veins anew. How dare Doug have a ‘thing’ for another man! Doug belonged to Tor!

Doug sighed heavily. “You heard me, Tor. We were attracted to each other when I was with Chris–”

“My dad,” Tor spat. “You mean my dad!”

“Your dad,” Doug amended. “Dominic and I were attracted to each other but I belonged to your dad then. Now, however…”

Tor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Drawing himself up to his full, impressive height he rounded on Doug, causing him to shrink back in alarm. “And now you belong to me,” he pronounced, deep voice booming with authority. “And you will stay the fuck away from him! Got it, bitch?”

Doug cringed, lowering his head. His cheeks flushed as color crept up his face, eventually even reaching his balding forehead. Very slowly and very deliberately, though, he stepped forward and said evenly, “I am going to start seeing Dominic, Tor. I have his number and I will call him later tonight.”

“WHAT?!”

Doug lifted his chin, fixing Tor with his clear, blue gaze. Unexpectedly, rather than defiance, his eyes were filled only with the tenderest of emotions. “Tor, I love you and will always love you,” he said, reaching out to take his hand and squeezing it, “but I need to be with a man now. We can’t go on like this. It’s just not right. You need to find someone your own age.”

Tor staggered as if punched in the gut. All of the power and authority that he had taken for granted, taken to be the new bedrock of his male identity, taken as his own, evaporated. Completely. Poof! It was gone, taking his manhood along with it and leaving him a mere boy in its wake–a very terrified and overwhelmed boy. 

He gaped at Doug, stuttering, “Y-Y-You’re…what?” 

If his voice had cracked before, it was splitting down the middle right now, rising up an octave back to where it had been before he’d started the hormone treatments. He stumbled backward, collapsing into a chair in the foyer and holding his head in his hands. He screwed his eyes shut but couldn’t keep the tears from leaking out. He couldn’t believe that Doug would do this to him. Doug belonged to him! Doug was his property! His fucktoy! His cumdump! He fucking bitch!

Doug was his…rock.

No more.

***

Sergeant Chris Riggs lay like a skeleton on the bed before him. Emaciated almost beyond recognition, his eyelids were sunken into his skull as if even his eyeballs had atrophied as a result of the coma. His hair, always rich, thick brown, had begun to turn white. The stubble on his chin was likewise white. Tor had to struggle to dredge up memories of what his father used to look like before the coma and nearly came up dry. How could this hollowed out shell of a man be his father? This wasn’t his dad! It couldn’t be!

He stood there, unconsciously clenching his fists, as he struggled with the complex emotions roiling through him. He was about to leave when he caught a hint of his father’s scent. It was barely there, mostly covered by the fetid antiseptic odor of the nursing home, but there was enough of it to remind him…remind him…remind him….

Daddy.

A sob escaped his throat and he sank onto the mattress beside his father. He lay there, curled up in a pathetic ball, holding his nappy afro in his hands, feeling lost and forlorn. The nursing home was quiet; his father had the room to himself and the rooms on either side appeared to be empty as well. The silence pervading the place reminded Tor of the silence of the grave and he shuddered.

He was an emotional wreck. He’d fled Doug’s house, driving away like a maniac, the wheels of the minivan shrieking against the pavement as he sped off. He didn’t know where he was going until he found himself pulling into the parking lot of the nursing home. Even then it had taken him a good half hour of sitting numbly in the car before he’d been able to make himself stalk inside.

Doug Haslett, he realized as he lay there next to his slowly dying father, had been the only thing keeping him tethered as he struggled to come to terms with his new life as a black and gay man. It had been Doug who had fought to get him released from the immigration detention center, pulling every military and government string he could find before he finally succeeded. It had been Doug who had been waiting for him outside the gates when he’d been released. Doug who drove him the twenty hours back home. Doug who held him and comforted him and soothed him, coaxing him to unload everything that had happened during that month-long nightmare. Doug who had listened to him. Doug who had cooked for him, cleaned up after him, and, of course, served him sexually. Shit, it had even been Doug–with some help from his mom–who had found his therapist, Dr. Khan.

Doug had been more than just the catalyst for Tor’s growth, he’d also been the buffer between him and the ignorant cruelty of his relatives and friends as they reacted to his racial transformation. And somehow Doug had done all this without drawing attention to himself. He had acted selflessly, steadfastly, and obediently, making Tor think that he was in charge when the truth was he was not. No, he saw then he had never really been in control. It was a hard and bitter truth but Tor saw it plainly as he lay there next to his father. The truth was that Doug was the man and Tor was still a boy. A boy who had a long journey before he would become a man. 

He groaned, hating himself for being so stupid and naive. Why had he not realized how precious Doug was before today? And he was precious, more precious than gold. Even more precious–Tor choked on tears as he realized this–more precious than a father. He had been more than a father because he’d both guided him on the path toward manhood while also awakening his nascent sexual identity. He had helped Tor’s sexuality bloom rich and potent and vibrant. What father could do that? No father, only Doug…

Tor knew then that he had taken Doug for granted and he felt terrible. Worse than terrible. The ache of Doug’s loss was almost too much to bear.

He cried.

And when he was done crying, he talked. He told his father everything, lying there with his mouth next to his ear. He whispered it all, everything about the trip to Mexico and his pursuit of Doug. Of his victory, claiming his prize on the top of the temple at Calakmul, their carnal union, and the bliss of those few golden days alone together before they had returned to Isla Mujeres and the world came crashing down.

He told him about his stay in the immigrant detention center, his treatment at the hands of the guards–some humane, some inept, and some sadistic–and the tender friendship he’d developed with a Guatemalan boy named Javier, a boy who had been sent back to Mexico and who Tor would probably never see again. He told his father everything and left nothing out. He even told his father the things he’d avoided sharing with Doug because they had been too hurtful or humiliating. 

His father heard it all without betraying any hint of awareness or understanding. When Tor was finished, he searched his dad’s face but detected no indication the man had registered any of it. He’d hoped to discover a trace of a smile–both Tor and his father shared a deep love and connection with Doug, after all–or maybe even a tear in the corner of his eye.

But there was nothing.

Nothing.

Only his shallow, raspy breath and the faint rise and fall of his chest. It was as if Tor wasn’t there at all.

***

He had just leaned down and kissed his father’s cheek in farewell when Wayne Corbyn, one of the nurses who worked weekends, entered the room, wheeling a cart laden with medications.

“What the–!” he started to exclaim before he relaxed. “Oh, it’s just you, Tor. I wasn’t expectin’ to see another black guy in here.”

Tor favored him with a wan smile, offering him a nod and a perfunctory greeting. He wasn’t sure which was more awkward, the way that white people reacted to his race change or the way that black people treated him. White folks were initially shocked but then invariably pretended like nothing had changed about him. There were a myriad of unconscious ways, however, their behavior communicated exactly the opposite. Women would keep their distance and reach for their handbags when he was nearby and men would become subtly tougher, straightening up and watching him closely. Everyone became more closed and guarded when he was around. It was both creepy and unnerving to realize he no longer had access to a realm of shared experience he’d once enjoyed without thinking. Was this what was meant by ‘white privilege’?

Black folks, on the other hand, had no idea what to make of him. Oh, if they had never met him before, they were initially open and friendly. There was, he’d quickly realized after his skin and features had morphed into those of a man of African descent, a whole host of subtle ways black people acknowledged each other and went out of their way to help each other out. If he’d lost access to the world of ‘white privilege’ by becoming black, he at least got to experience the camaraderie and support of this parallel milieu of black solidarity.

Well, sort of.

The problem was that as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, he became ‘other’ because his speech patterns and mannerisms were still those of a white guy. He lacked the experience and shared history of those with his racial makeup. He might look like a black man but the rest of him–his history, his family, his identity–was still white. It was yet another thing he’d never thought about until the day his race had changed and it left him feeling like a double outsider. 

Not all black and white people were quite so predictable in their reactions to him, though. Some–like Wayne Corbyn, for instance–surprised him by going above and beyond his expectations in their effort to treat him kindly. 

Tor had turned and started to walk out of the room when Wayne stopped him, calling out, “Hey, Tor! Before you go…”

Tor looked over his shoulder, asking, “Yeah? What’s up?”

Wayne was smiling at him and it was rare, true smile, not the fake kind that never reached the eyes. “You need a haircut,” he said, adopting an avuncular tone. “And I mean a real haircut, man! You gotta go to a barber shop for black folks. They’ll show you how to take care of your ‘fro.”

Tor halted, fighting the urge to reach up and touch his hair. He didn’t need to touch it, though, to know that Wayne was right; he did need a haircut. If Tor was completely honest, he didn’t know how to care for his new hair–or his skin, for that matter. He’d been willfully ignoring both his ashy skin and nappy hair in the vain hope that soon he would wake up and be white again. With each passing day, though, that seemed less likely. If anything, his skin was growing even darker as time wore on. And his hair…Well, his hair was kinky, thick, and black as ever.

He was opening his mouth to reply when Wayne handed him a business card. “It’s my cousin’s shop,” he explained as Tor reached out to accept it. “Isaac’ll take good care of you. Just tell him I sent ya, Ok?”

Tor glanced at the card and noticed the address was only a few blocks from his house. He knew the barber shop but had never been inside. “Thanks, man,” he murmured, returning Wayne’s friendly smile. “I’ll go tomorrow morning. I appreciate it.”

***

The next day, Tor was turning the business card over and over in his hand when Dr. Chadha entered the examination room. Earlier that morning, he had been heading out the door on his way to the barber when his older brother, Jaz, had stopped him, calling out from the kitchen, “And where do you think yer goin’, bro? You got yer appointment with Dr. Jellyfingers this morning.”

Tor had groaned and slumped against the doorway. He’d completely forgotten about his appointment with Dr. Chadha at the hormone disorder clinic. His mother, convinced that his hormone treatments were the cause of his race change, had set it up after his release from the detention center.

“You a mess, bro,” Jaz had teased, sauntering over and clapping him patronizingly on the shoulder. “Good thing ya got yer big brother here to look after ya. C’mon, I’ll drive ya.”

Scowling, Tor had followed his brother out of the house.

“So, Tor,” Dr. Chadha began as she breezed into the room, “Tell me–”

She never finished the sentence. It was almost comical watching her face as she struggled to take in the myriad of ways the Riggs brothers had changed since she’d last seen them. 

And both had changed. 

A lot. 

Oh, Tor won the prize for the most transformed but Jaz wasn’t far behind. Tor’s big brother might be a good six inches shorter but he had packed on so much muscle that he now outweighed him by more than fifty pounds. His engorged muscles all but exploded from his chest and arms and legs, stretching his gym clothes nearly to the shredding point. His neck had disappeared and his exposed skin was tinted orange from spray-on tan. (Jaz had recently started competing in bodybuilding contests now that he was eighteen. In fact, there was a big one scheduled for next weekend and Jaz was deep in his cutting phase, trying to shed every last trace of fat. He was driving both Tor and his mother crazy with his obsession to be the biggest, most shredded dude in the competition.)

Yes, there was no denying the fact that Jaz Riggs was a budding muscle god. And if you did make the mistake of not noticing, he would go out of his way to remind you. He took every opportunity to make Tor–along with every other male in the vicinity–feel insignificant and inferior.

“Hey, there,” Jaz said, affecting his deepest baritone and striking a not too subtle pose to show off his biceps. “How ya doin’, Doctor?”

Dr. Chadha blinked at him, closing her open mouth with a snap. “I’m, um, I’m,” she stammered before regaining her composure. “The more important question is how are you, Jasper?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “With all of those steroids in your system, you must be in danger of liver failure.”

Jaz snorted. “Steroids? Me? Yer full of shit.” He paused to casually flex before continuing, “This is all natural muscle mass. I’m a fuckin’ genius at bio-hacking.”

Dr. Chadha’s lips closed in a tight line. “Is that so?” she challenged. “You care to submit to a blood test so we can verify that?”

“Nah,” Jaz drawled. “I don’t got nothin’ to prove. Save your testin’ fer my bro here. Somebody’s gotta figure out how he went all black on us.” He settled back against the sink, crossing his ultra-beefy arms with a smirk.

Dr. Chadha seemed like she wasn’t going to let him off the hook quite so easily but then sighed and turned to Tor. He gave her a watery smile as she looked him up and down, mentally cataloging all of his changes. He had to hand it to her, her clinical demeanor didn’t crack. She may have been caught off guard initially but then her inner scientist kicked in and he had become a fascinating research subject, a medical mystery to document, diagnose, and treat. She peppered him with questions, making notes and furrowing her brow, before handing him a gown and asking if she could examine him. While she stepped out of the room, he stripped out of his clothes (except for his underwear) and put on the flimsy garment that barely covered his dark, meaty thighs. When she returned, he obediently submitted to a full physical exam, allowing her to poke and prod at him while Jaz made snide comments off to the side.

Tor ignored him. Nothing Jaz could say got a rise out of him because he had a secret ace in the hole that he was just waiting to pull out. (Well, maybe it wasn’t an ace so much as a ‘Jack of Clubs’.) Sure enough, the moment he’d been waiting for arrived when the doctor asked him to remove his underwear. Tor complied, taking devious pleasure in watching Jaz’s reaction when he pulled down his boxers and his huge, fat, ebony-skinned dick flopped out, slapping his knees loudly as it made its grand entrance. Jaz’s face went pale at first and then turned the most adorable shade of pink before he pursed his lips and looked angrily away.

For her part, Dr. Chadha was unphased and continued her examination, lifting his penis and probing his testicles as if she were handling fruit in the produce section. When she was done, she straightened and tapped away on her tablet computer for a moment before looking up at him and announcing, “Blood work. I just ordered a full panel for you but first I’m going to have Dr. Esquivel take a look at you, Tor. He is our lead clinician and wants to see you for himself.” She was turning to leave when she added, “You can put on your underwear again and tie up your gown but don’t get dressed yet.”

Tor watched her go, reaching down to pick up his discarded boxers after she had closed the door.

“What a fuckin’ stupid bitch,” Jaz commented, shaking his head. “She doesn’t know shit. Hmpf! Steroids!”

Tor bit his tongue. He was inclined to believe the doctor. He didn’t know much about weightlifting but he did know that it took most men a lot of hard work and many years to put on as much muscle as Jaz had gained in only a matter of months. And even after years of training, most guys never got half as big as Jaz without some illegal help. Something didn’t add up.

He was still fastening his gown when there was a knock at the door. He had only just acknowledged the knock when the door swung open and Tor backed up in surprise as a hulking brute of a man lumbered into the exam room. The guy was so enormous that he had to turn sideways in order to fit through the door and so tall that he had to duck his head under the lintel. Both Tor and Jaz’ mouths hung open at the sight of him.

Dr. Esquivel stood nearly seven feet tall. The word that immediately popped into Tor’s mind when he saw him was ‘bull’. He was a giant bull of a man with a bull neck, a bull torso, bull legs, and even a bull nose. The comparison didn’t end there: Tor wrinkled his nose at the distinct odor of the barnyard clinging to the man. He was so bull-like that Tor half expected to see horns growing out of his shaggy, brown hair and ring hanging from the septum of his nose. He had never met anyone so utterly bestial and it took his breath away…and not in a good way. He instinctively shrank away from the man; the room felt too small with Dr. Esquivel filling it.

Beside him, he could tell that Jaz was equally impressed, although his brother seemed to find the man less abhorrent than Tor did. If anything, he seemed reverential, adopting an almost worshipful bearing. If Tor hadn’t been so distracted by his rapidly pounding heart, he would have found Jaz’s behavior quite surprising; Jaz didn’t bow down to anyone.

“Ah, Tourmaline Riggs,” the huge man rumbled, fixing Tor with his tawny gold eyes in a stare that verged on predatory. “Dr. Chadha has told me so many fascinating things about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” 

He stuck out his massive hand and Tor looked down at it, noting that the doctor’s fingers were short and blunt and tipped with wide, thick nails. Half hoof and half hand, he thought, aversion to the strange man increasing. He did, however, force himself to reach out and take the proffered hand after a slight pause. Dr. Esquivel’s grip was firm and dominant, much like him. His smile deepened into a leer as he shook Tor’s hand, maintaining the handshake for a bit too long.

That’s it! Tor thought, alarmed. This dude’s no good!

“Dr. Esquivel,” Tor began but the man cut him off.

“Kael,” he ordered. “Call me Kael. We are friends here, Tor.”

Tor swallowed and looked over at Jaz. His brother’s eyes were glazed over as he gaped up at Dr. Esquivel. He’s all starry-eyed! Tor thought, marveling at seeing his brother like this. What the fuck?

Kael Esquivel followed his gaze and turned to Jaz, extending a hand and smiling broadly. “Jasper,” he pronounced with a tone that was nearly a pur. “I see we share a passion for bodybuilding.”

A goofy grin spread across Jaz’ face as he clasped Dr. Esquivel’s hand and he nodded enthusiastically, gushing, “You’re a friggin’ beast, Doctor! Shit, I would give anything to be as big as you are!”

Kael’s golden eyes sparkled with this praise and he rumbled, “Hmmmm, is that so? Well, perhaps I can help you out there. We’ll have to see–”

“Fuck yeah, man!” Jaz interrupted. Tor noticed he was positively glowing with eagerness. “Anything, man! I’ll do anything!”

“Noted,” Kael replied, smiling benevolently. “But first I must examine your brother here. His affliction is most distressing and…interesting at the same time.” He turned away from Jaz to study Tor closely, devouring him with his eyes.

Tor took another step backward and, even though he routinely complained about his changing race, felt compelled to insist, “Being black is not an affliction.” He didn’t know exactly why he said it other than he was disinclined to do or say anything that might encourage Dr. Esquivel. He knew–just knew–that the man was not to be trusted.

Kael didn’t appear to be put off by his attitude. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. “Ah, is that so?” he challenged. “I stand corrected then. Perhaps we should just let you continue your Africanization?”

“What?!” Tor barked. “No!”

Kael lifted a bushy, golden brown eyebrow. “That’s what I thought. Now let’s have a look at you.” With that, he drew himself up to his full, hulking height and leered down at Tor as he jammed his meaty hand into a giant latex glove, drawling, “All of you.”

***

Chapter 3

“Why’re you in such a shitty mood?” Tor’s friend, Josie Ramirez, demanded, slumping down in her chair next to him. They were sitting in the waiting area of the barber shop, watching the big screen television as the men and boys around them chatted amiably. The pleasant odors of Barbasol and buzzed hair pervaded the air.

Tor fixed her with a gimlet eye, grumbling, “I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, Ok?”

Josie sighed and pulled out her phone, flipping through Instagram. She was, he noticed in spite of his sour mood, looking quite radiant that day. Clad in an airy, flowery dress, her lush, black hair was done up with ribbons and her slender feet were clad in dainty sandals. Tor had known Josie since third grade when her name had been Joe and she had been biologically male. Over the intervening years, she had come out as transgender and started hormone treatments at age thirteen, finally undergoing top and bottom surgery a year ago. To anyone who didn’t know her and her history, she was indistinguishable from any other teenage girl. 

He’d been so preoccupied with his own transformation that he hadn’t paid enough attention to Josie’s own stunning transformation and now he felt kind of bad. Not bad enough to comment on it right then but bad enough that he made a mental note to talk with her when he felt up to conversation again.  

Just now, though, he was too busy stewing after his humiliating physical exam at the hands of Dr. Esquivel. He’d decided that the man was a sadist and pervert even before the third rectal exam and finally put his foot down, angrily grabbing his clothes and storming out of the room. He didn’t care that he bolted out naked in front the entire clinic; he just needed to get away from that fucking asshole!

There was only one problem.

Dr. Esquivel had scheduled him for a supervised, two-day stay at the clinic in order to more accurately diagnose the causes ofTor’s race change. Jaz had signed off on it without his permission and then gotten his mother to go along with the idea. Tor was going to be trapped for two days with the awful doctor and there wasn’t anything he could do about it! The fact that Jaz would accompany him didn’t help much; his brother had practically fallen in love with the doctor and couldn’t stop babbling about how great he was. Dr. Esquivel had sweetened the deal by promising to share his muscle-building secrets with Jaz, no doubt while Tor was locked up in the lab, hooked up to god-knew-what kinds of monitoring equipment. It wasn’t fair!

Tor hunched down in his chair, scowling fiercely.

“Tor,” Isaac Holden, the barber, called out. “I’m just ‘bout ready for ya!”

Forcing himself to smile, he looked over at the dude and gave him the thumbs up. And then promptly went back to scowling.

“Whoa,” Josie breathed a moment later, jabbing him in the ribs. “Here comes Roos and his dad. He musta just got outta the hospital.”

Tor looked up to see a boy about his own age in a wheelchair. He wore a Medieval-looking neck- and body-brace and was pushing himself into the barber shop as his father held the door open. Tor couldn’t help noticing that his afro was in even worse shape than his own, perhaps because, as Josie had pointed out, the boy was newly released from the hospital. Almost as notable as the wheelchair, brace, and awful afro was the scowl on his face. Somewhat incredibly, it was even deeper than Tor’s.

Tor blinked as he recognized him. Josie was right; it was Roosevelt Hodges, a boy in his grade at high school. He’d only been in a classroom a couple times with the guy but it was enough to know that Roos was a formidable academic in the line to be the next valedictorian. He was also a crack skateboarder…or he had been a crack skateboarder before his accident that spring. Rumors were that the poor dude was now paralyzed below the waist.

“Hey, Roos,” Josie called out, smiling brightly.

Roos wheeled past without acknowledging her. He did, however, pause as he rolled by Tor, fixing him with an unreadable stare that sent a shiver down his spine. There was a message in that look but Tor couldn’t quite decipher it. All he knew was that it triggered his curiosity as well as a sense of trepidation.

Roos stopped next to him, backing up his chair and staring straight ahead. After asking if his son needed anything and getting no response, his father took a seat across the room with a bunch of guys who had been covertly watching the pair. They called out loudly as he approached, welcoming him to sit with them and soon the group was chatting loudly, occasionally pausing to yell at the football game on the television.

Roos brooded in silence for so long that Tor finally felt compelled to say something. “Hey, man,” he began in a low voice. “How’s it goin’?”

There was a long pause before Roos responded, “I would prefer not to talk about it.”

Undeterred, Tor pressed, “You outta rehab now?”

Same response: “I would prefer not to talk about it.”

“What about your prognosis? Any change?”

“I would prefer not to talk about it,” came the predictable reply.

Tor laughed. He couldn’t help it! Roos’ words and aggrieved tone struck his literary funny bone and he lifted his hands in the air, exclaiming, “Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity!”

On his right, Josie put down her phone to stare at him in bewilderment but Roos got it, a little chuckle emanating from deep in his chest before he suppressed it. When Tor cast a sidelong glance at him, he was surprised to see a small smile on the guy’s face. Taking this as a good sign, Tor leaned back and studied the boy. Roos wasn’t exactly handsome, his features were too heavy and his head somewhat oblong, but the expression of cool intelligence and aliveness of his gaze made up this. Yes, there was something magnetic about him that drew Tor’s attention despite the fact the kid was obviously in a terrible mood.

“Melville,” Roos said then. “That’s Melville, right?”

“You got it.”

Tor fell silent, remembering his own bad mood and was turning back to the television when Roos cleared his throat.

“Yer Tourmaline Riggs?”

Tor looked back over at him, nodding. “Yup, that’s me. I go by Tor, though.”

“For obvious reasons,” Roos muttered, giving him a sly grin.

He returned the smile, agreeing, “Yeah, for obvious reasons.” 

Tor was surprised to feel his cock perking up in his shorts. He suppressed a shiver, wondering what his dick was responding to. This wasn’t exactly a sexually loaded situation. And yet…and yet… He shivered again, unable to stop his dick from hardening further.  He looked down at his crotch, wondering, WTF, man? His cock pulsed again and he looked over Roos, finally getting it. 

His cock wanted Roos Hodges.

Wanted him in the worst way.

Jesus! he thought, feeling the thrill of attraction build, Roos might be in a neckbrace and strapped into a wheelchair but the dude is so fucking sexy! 

He shifted his weight in the chair and winced as his foreskin parted, releasing his sensitive glans against the fabric of his boxers. He wished he’d worn a pair of briefs to contain his monster but the problem with briefs was his bulge stuck out several inches in front of him, making his mega size that much more obvious. No, unfortunately briefs were a thing of the past for poor Tor. He would be hanging long and loose in boxers for the rest of his life. At least my shorts hang below my knees, he thought, surreptitiously adjusting himself, otherwise he’d be in jeopardy of serious dick slippage… 

Roos lifted an eyebrow and Tor looked over at him, chagrined to realize the guy was watching him closely, a probing look on his face. He flushed, straightening in his chair and was forcing his attention away from his dick when he was captivated once again by Roos’ simmering sensuality.

With exaggerated slowness, the guy moistened his succulent lower lip with his tongue, observing, “You used to be a skinny white kid.” 

It was a statement, not a question. And there was something else. Something that Tor couldn’t quite put his finger on but his dick didn’t care. It wanted Roos!

“Yeah,” he agreed, feeling pre dribble out of his piss slit. “Guess I still am, on the inside at least.”

There was a pause and then, “Kinda like me.”

He said it in such a quiet voice that Tor almost didn’t hear him. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Nevermind,” Roos grunted, giving him a half smile. 

Those lips! Those lips! They were exceedingly juicy and full. And his eyes. God, his eyes! They were so deep and beautiful! His cock pulsed again and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop these thoughts. He couldn’t afford to let his huge cock come shooting out of his shorts right now!

“C’mon, man!” he pleaded. “Tell me what you mean! I wanna know!” To emphasize his point, he reached out and put his hand on Roos’ leg, only to withdraw it a second later when the boy twisted his torso, jerking away.

Before Roos could issue the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, though, Isaac interrupted them, patting the seat of his barber chair and bellowing theatrically, “Tor Riggs! C’mon up! Your throne awaits!”

“Sorry, man,” Tor mumbled, cringing as he tried somewhat unsuccessfully to cover up his huge boner when he stood up. “Gotta go.”

Was it his imagination or did Roos’ gaze follow the prominent bulge in his shorts, brows raising and eyes lighting up with interest?

***

“No way Roos is gay,” Josie said later when they were back at Tor’s house, sitting next to each other on the sofa in the basement and browsing Netflx. “He has a girlfriend.” 

“So?” Tor challenged. “That doesn’t mean anything. ‘Sides, I heard they split up. After the accident.”

Josie regarded him skeptically but before she could reply Jaz and his bodybuilder friend, Jason Bigby, came barreling down the stairs, dressed in matching string tanks and stretch shorts. They stopped in surprise at the sight of Tor and Josie on the couch, clearly expecting to have the place to themselves. Jaz recovered quickly, though, grinning broadly as he strolled over to rub his hand over Tor’s head.

“Shee-it, little buddy!” he exclaimed, letting out a low whistle. “That’s one stylish ‘fro ya got there! Yer twistin’ and fadin’ with the best o’ the bros now! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were born black! And what’s this?” He paused to run the back of his hand over Tor’s cheek before leaning in and giving him a delicate sniff. “Is that cocoa butter I smell? Yer skin is so shiny and moist!”

“Shut up, asshole,” Tor muttered, pulling his head away from Jaz’ fingers. “And get lost. Josie and I were here first.”

“No can do, bro,” Jaz rejoined, holding up his hands. “Jase and I are gonna wax our man parts fer the competition this weekend and we need space and privacy. It’s time fer you to get lost.” He paused to lift a salacious eyebrow, adding, “Unless ya wanna join us?”

Tor flushed crimson and Josie leaped off the sofa and scampered up the stairs, saying over her shoulder, “As much as I’d love to stick around for this, I gotta get home. See ya, Tor!”

Tor was starting to follow her when Jaz turned to Jason, saying, “You know what, Jase? I saw Tor’s junk today and it’s true what they say about black guys. They really are bigger than us white dudes. He’s got a footlong dong swingin’ loose between his legs.”

“Jaz,” Tor growled, flushing an even deeper shade of red. “Shut the fuck up!”

“What?” Jaz asked with feigned innocence. “Am I wrong?” Turning back to Jason, he continued, “Actually, it’s probably longer than that. Why don’t you show Jason, bro? I’m sure he’d like to see it for himself.”

Jason nodded dumbly in response, face breaking out into a goofy grin as he reached up nervously to adjust his backward-turned baseball cap. Underneath the cap, his blond hair was newly shorn, fading up tight and close to his skull. It was, Tor reluctantly admitted, quite a nice haircut and he realized belatedly that Jase Bigby was a good looking dude. Yes, with his wide, honest face, full lips, button nose, and sparkling blue eyes he was quite attractive. Why hadn’t Tor noticed before now…?

No, Tor! Stop it! he warned himself sternly. No matter how pretty the dude was, Tor was determined not to let Jaz get the better of him and he shoved this newfound attraction to Jase aside, spitting, “You two can go fuck yerselves!”

He was tempted to get up and leave but didn’t want to give Jaz the satisfaction of chasing him away. Instead, he plopped back down on the sofa and picked up the remote control, settling in for the long haul. Before long, he’d selected his favorite episode of ‘Voltron: Legendary Defender.’ He turned his back on them and turned up the volume. 

Jaz was such an asshole!

***

Jaz and Jason were not so easily ignored.

Clippers in hand, the two bros spread a couple of bedsheets on the floor and proceeded to make a big production of stripping down to their itty bitty briefs and shaving off their body hair. They laughed and joked the whole time, striking beefcake poses and generally insulting the other’s prowess. They were in a particularly buoyant mood due to their impending competition and it was enough to make Tor sick. He was still stewing in resentment from his appointment with Dr. Esquivel and wasn’t in the mood for their levity.

But their antics didn’t stop there.

Once their underarms and torsos were newly devoid of hair, Jaz ran into the bathroom and returned with a tub of body wax and a bath towel. Setting the tub aside for the moment, he spread a towel on the pool table next to the sofa and stepped back, ordering, “Go on, Jasey-boy. You first. Drop ‘em.”

Tor tried his best to keep his gaze locked on the television but it was no use. His head swung around and he goggled in disbelief when Jase obediently pulled down his boxers, stepping forth in all his glory. The dude was flawlessly beautiful with super cut muscles and a pert little dick sticking out from a thick bush of blond pubic hair. He was stocky and a couple inches shorter than Jaz but he made up for it by being even more striated. His wide, bulging body and narrow waist were incredibly appealing and Tor quickly became enraptured. Jase Bigby was a hottie!

Oblivious to Tor’s scrutiny, Jaz patted the top of the table, urging, “C’mon, bro!  Hop up here and spread ‘em!”

Tor’s mouth watered and his pulse began to pound. This can’t be happening! he thought, quickly becoming feverish with lust. He couldn’t believe that Jaz and his friend would engage in such audaciously homerotic behavior. What the fuck was going on with them?

This had to be a joke.

Yes, that was it!

They were playing a joke on Tor, trying to get him riled up before turning the tables and humiliating him in some twisted way. Well, he wasn’t so easily taken in! He would show them he was immune to their hijinx by getting up and marching up the stairs. He would show how strong he was! He would–

Tor’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when Jase climbed up on the table and, lying down on his back, opened his legs and spread his feet, giving Jaz full access to his hairy nutsac, taint, and–Holy fucking Christ!!!–his manhole. Acting as if waxing his buddy’s privates was the most natural thing in the world, Jaz dipped his hand into the jar of wax and spread it liberally over Jase’s man parts.

A strangled moan escaped Tor’s lips. From where he was sitting, he had a clear view of the dude’s crotch and spreading ass cheeks and he noted with growing excitement that Jase possessed an extraordinarily well-developed pair of buttocks. Clearly, he had not been scrimping on squats and leg lifts.

Ungh.

He warred with himself, trying to make himself move, get out of there, do anything but remain seated where he could see Jase’s garden salad of delights. But…but Tor was a hot-blooded and horny young guy, he only possessed a limited amount of restraint and that had maxed out the moment Jase Bigby pulled down his skimpy briefs and showed his world to Tor.

He lost the battle.

Ceding defeat, he reached down and adjusted his cock in his shorts. It was rock hard and in danger of poking out through the leghole. Tor managed to keep it covered but that didn’t stop him from jacking himself slowly through the fabric.

“Jesus, Jase!” Jaz cursed, startling Tor. “Yer booty’s too big! Get up on yer hands and knees and push yer ass out so I can get in there.”

A rope of drool slid out of Tor’s open mouth as he watched Jase comply, happily flipping over and sticking his huge ass up and out while spreading his knees wide. When his fuzz-covered, pink hole popped into view, a jet of pre spurted out of Tor’s engorged cock. He closed his mouth, chewing his lip until he tasted blood, unable to look away from Jase’s twin golden bubbles and tender man bud.

This isn’t happening! This is only a dream! This isn’t happening!

It got better.

With elaborate care, Jaz smeared globs of wax all over his buddy’s ass cheeks, cleft, and hole. When Jaz ripped off the first wax strip, a little whimper escaped Jase’s lips before he clamped his mouth shut. From that point on, he stoically endured the removal of his precious man fuzz, bracing there on the table with his ass sticking out while Jaz methodically stripped him bare.

Finally done, Jaz stepped back to survey his handiwork, exclaiming, “Wow, wow, and wow! Look at that! Yer smooth and soft as a baby now, bro!” He reached out and ran his hand over Jase’s ass cheeks, cupping them for a moment before giving them a squeeze. “Lemme rub some lotion on these babies. That is…” his voice trailed off as both he and Jase turned in unison to look back at Tor. “That is,” Jaz continued, face breaking into a devilish grin, “unless you wanna do the honors, Tor? I mean, have ya ever seen a tighter, perkier, pinker pucker?”

Tor didn’t remember moving. He only knew that one moment, he was sitting on the sofa, manhandling his cock through his shorts, and the next he was on the pool table, manhandling Jase’s giant peach. (Or maybe that’s a nectarine? Jase’s ass was flawlessly smooth after all, devoid as it was of any trace of fuzz.) 

He was past caring about being naked and aroused in front of his brother and yanked his shorts down and spit into his palms as his enormously fat and long cock sprang forth. He slicked back his dangling foreskin with one practiced flick of the wrist, exposing his moist, pink glans.

“CONDOM!” he barked at Jaz. “In my bedroom. Top drawer of the dresser. NOW!”

His brother was turning to go when Jase stopped him, whining pleadingly, “Nooooooo! Ride me bareback!”

Tor looked down at him, beefy thighs spread wide and huge ass quivering mere inches from his dripping cock. From his vantage point, he had a glorious view of heaven spread out before him. Jase’s denuded taint, nutsac and small but rock-hard cock provided the perfect counterpoint to the dude’s pumped ass cheeks. But as delicious as these were, Tor barely noticed them. Something else compelled his attention: Jase’s newly bare, tiny, tight, pink pucker was fishmouthing at him in the most alluring fashion. 

It was too much.

Tor’s vision went red and he lost control. Slathering spit over his aching tool and grabbing his prize by the hips, he rammed forward, forcing entry into that virgin hole. He roared in victory even as Jase squealed with pleasure, his hole parting and permanently stretching under the onslaught of a truly monster-sized cock. Tor threw his head back in ecstasy, pummeling away and grunting with satisfaction as his low-hanging, swollen balls slapped out a carnal rhythm against Jase’s velvety taint.

At some point, he became aware that Jaz had climbed up on the pool table behind him. His brother pressed up against him, leaning his head against Tor’s back and wrapping his beefy arms around his chest. Tor stopped thrusting, uncertain how he felt about his brother participating in his sexual conquest but Jaz kissed his shoulder, soothing, “Go on, bro! Forget about me. I’m just here to enjoy the ride.”

Tor grunted, forcing thoughts of incest aside, and continued pounding Jase’s tight pussy. It wasn’t long before he was ready to explore and he leaned forward, hugging himself against Jase’s glistening, sweaty back while reaching down to massage his little dick between two fingers. Jase gasped at his touch, an endearing little whimper escaping his lips and he turned his head, opening his mouth.

Tor met him, mouth-to-mouth, and his tongue caressed Jase’s as both guys shot their loads simultaneously. Tor gushing quarts of man seed deep inside Jase and Jase squirting little jets of cum over Tor’s fingers. Behind them, Jaz took both of them in his great arms and pulled tight, holding them locked together, their chests heaving and sweat coursing down their hard bodies.

Tor exhaled, completely spent, body still thrumming with the afterglow of orgasm. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he’d just fucked his brother’s best friend while his brother watched. While his brother had done more than watch… His cheeks colored and he started to feel creeped out.

He was about to extricate himself from Jaz and Jase when he remembered something. Something he should have remembered before he’d started fucking Jase without a condom.

He remembered Jimmy and the fuck in the produce cooler.

And what had happened to Jimmy afterward…

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, startling Jase. “We should’ve used a condom!”

“S’Ok, bro,” Jaz mumbled behind him. “Jase is on Truvada.”

Tor tensed, once again uncomfortably aware of being sandwiched between his brother and the guy he’d just fucked to within an inch of his life. “That’s not what I meant!” he barked. “I’m taking Truvada, too! It’s my cum. It does…weird…things to guys when I fuck them. I think it’s a side effect of my race change or something. I forgot about it until now.”

Jase stirred languidly in his arms, sighing, “I don’t care. I never want yer dick outta me!”

“You don’t get it,” Tor said sternly. “It’ll make yer cock shrink and yer ass get bigger. Is that what you want?”

“Dude,” Jaz murmured sleepily. “Have you seen how small Jase is? What difference does it make if he loses another inch when all he’s got is two to begin with? And, as for his ass, well, he’s a bodybuilder. He needs big glutes!”

Surprisingly, Jase agreed with him, nodding his head. “Yeah, man! I don’t care. I’m fine with a small dick as long as I got big muscles.”

Tor exhaled in disbelief. “You guys are crazy! You don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout here!”

“Tor,” Jaz said, voice barely a whisper. “Just shut the fuck up and lay here with us. We’ll worry about Jase’s dick and ass later.”

With that, he kissed the back of Tor’s neck and fell asleep.

***

Chapter 4

>>Booty call?<<

Tor stared at the message. It was from Doug Haslett; the dude had sent it from his secret Snap account he used to communicate solely with Tor. A moment later, the message was followed by a salacious pic of his admittedly fine booty. He took it from behind his behind, showing his magnificent ass cheeks and well-used, gaping hole.

Tor’s mouth fell open and he immediately fired back: >>WTF? U just broke up w me!<<

He didn’t have to wait more than five seconds for Doug’s reply: >>Did not! Get over here. NOW!<<

Tor’s heart began to pound and his cock went instantly rigid in shorts…for, what? The fiftieth time that day? Being at the mercy of his huge pole was something that Tor was starting to grow accustomed to. Not that he minded. Having a huge cock in constant demand was hardly a liability. In his quieter moments, he admitted that this particular physical transformation had been a huge boon to his sex life. The guys couldn’t get enough of him!

Within a minute, he’d thrown on his hoodie, grabbed his mom’s car keys, hopped in the car and was speeding through the neighborhood to Doug’s house.

He was almost there when reality intervened in a big way.

He had just stopped at the four-way stop a block from Doug’s place and was turning right when the blue and red lights flashed behind him. Tor’s stomach fell and his throbbing erection deflated when he looked in the rearview mirror and saw the squad car.

. 

“Fuck!” he groaned. “You gotta be kidding!” 

Rolling down the window, he reached into the glove box to pull out the vehicle registration and proof of insurance before feeling around in his pocket for his wallet. Thankfully, it was there. He’d been in such a hurry that he couldn’t remember if he’d grabbed it. He was starting to pull it out of his pocket when two officers approached his door. One held a big flashlight that he pointed directly in Tor’s face.

“Get yer hands outta yer pockets,” he ordered. “And step outta the car.”

Tor blinked in the harsh light, heart pounding. The policeman sounded pissed. What had he done?

“OK,” he said, lifting his hands and reaching slowly for the door handle. “Let me get my–”

“I SAID STEP OUT OF THE CAR NOW!” the officer barked, startling Tor so badly he dropped his wallet. 

He was leaning down to retrieve it when the man forcibly yanked open the door and hauled him out onto the street. Before he knew it, the two officers had shoved him against the door and forced his arms over his head. One of them held him in a head lock while the other started methodically frisking him, moving his hands from his chest slowly downward.

“Please,” Tor begged. “What–?”

“SHUT UP!” The first officer–the one holding him–shouted in his ear.

The second officer, the more reasonable one–the Good Cop as Tor mentally referred to him–asked, “Would you mind telling us where you were going?”

Belatedly, Tor realized something he’d completely forgotten in the excitement to get to Doug: He was a black guy in a predominantly white neighborhood. Ever since his release from the detention center and his return home, his mother had refused to let him borrow her car after dark. She didn’t even like him to leave the house at night unless he was picked up by a group of friends. When he chafed at these restrictions, she reminded him of the news reports of black guys getting killed by police officers. ‘I will not have both my husband and my son taken away from me,’ she said firmly. No doubt she would have stopped him from leaving that night, too, had she been around. She was on a date with her boyfriend, Dan Eldridge, though, and Tor hadn’t bothered texting her to ask for permission to take the van.

Bad Cop shook him, prompting, “Where were you going, boy? And whose car is this?”

Tor stiffened at the use of the term ‘boy.’ The officer felt it and squeezed him tighter, repeating, “I said, where the fuck were you going and whose car is this?”

Swallowing, Tor croaked, “I-I-I was g-g-going t-t-to visit a friend. He lives over there.” He couldn’t move his arms so he nodded his head in the direction of Doug’s house. “He’s only a block away on Arbana Drive.”

“Who–?” Bad Cop started to ask but never finished because at that moment Good Cop’s frisking hands moved below Tor’s waist and his questing fingers inevitably landed on his–

“WHAT IS THAT?!” the cop exclaimed as Tor wilted with embarrassment. Good Cop, you see, had just succeeded in feeling up his cock.

Cheeks turning scarlet, Tor cringed as the officer gripped his man-pole with both hands. Even flaccid his firehose was a good three inches in diameter and well over a foot long but right then it was even bigger because he was still half hard with the excitement of fucking Doug’s hot hole. Worse, it appeared to have grown even heftier after fucking Jase Bigby. Tor had been about to measure it when Doug’s sext had appeared on Snap.

Bad Cop’s grip tightened over his throat; the dude no doubt thought that Good Cop had found a weapon. Realizing that his life was now in serious danger, Tor put everything he had into steadying himself. Somehow, he managed to reply evenly, “That is my penis, officer.”

“YOUR WHAT?” Good Cop barked, hands inadvertently clamping down on his shaft. “NO FUCKIN’ WAY!”

Surprisingly, Tor felt Bad Cop’s grip slacken with these words and almost as suddenly as the tables had turned against him, he felt them turn in his favor. He couldn’t help smiling a little as he said, “Officer, I swear that is my penis you are holding in your hands.”

Good Cop jerked, dropping Tor’s equipment and backing away from him as if he was somehow contagious. Behind him, Bad Cop’s hands fell away from his neck. Tor stepped apart from them, turning with arms outstretched.

“My name is Tourmaline Riggs,” he stated. “This is my mom’s car. I live at 1410 Argyle Crescent and I was driving to meet my friend at 253 Arbana Court.”

When he looked up at the men, he realized that Bad Cop’s flashlight was pointing directly at his crotch where the outline of his humongous cock was perfectly visible. It was pressing against the pant leg of his shorts, hanging well past his knee.

There was a long, awkward silence after which he asked, “Do you need to see my driver’s license and vehicle registration?”

More silence.

Finally, Bad Cop shook himself and lowered the beam of his light, saying, “Uh, yeah, let’s see ‘em.”

Tor obediently turned toward the car and reached down to retrieve his wallet from the floor under the dashboard. Pulling out his driver’s license, he handed it to Good Cop who received it with a slightly trembling hand. He held it out to Bad Cop and the two men studied it under the beam of the flashlight.

There was a long pause during which the officers became noticeably confused. Finally, Good Cop said, “You say you’re Tourmaline Riggs?”

Tor nodded.

“But…your face doesn’t match the photo on this license.”

Tor felt an icy hand grip his heart as he realized that the picture on his license had been taken before he turned black. Abruptly, the tables spun once again and he watched helplessly as Bad Cop stiffened. It was dark and he couldn’t see his face very well but he could see the man’s jaw tighten. Tor held his breath and time seemed to slow to a crawl as the man very deliberately lowered his hand toward the holster on his hip.

Before he could grab his gun, though, a familiar voice called out behind them. “Officers Dalton and Bayles?”

It was Doug Haslett.

Tor nearly fainted with relief as his friend and sometime lover stepped out of the shadows and took up a protective position next to him. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he continued, “Why have you stopped Tor? Did he do something wrong?”

***

“We really need to get your driver’s license updated,” Doug said later as they walked hand-in-hand toward his house. “Officer Dalton is Ok but Bayles is a total asshole. It’s a good thing he served under your dad years ago and knew enough about your family history to verify your identity.”

Tor didn’t reply. He was too worked up from the encounter. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding and his whole body felt clammy. This was his first encounter with the police after turning black and he hadn’t found the experience enjoyable. Maybe his mother was right to keep sheltered at home?

He shook his head angrily at the thought. No! He couldn’t spend the rest of his life hiding indoors! School would start in a couple of weeks and he had water polo practice in the evenings. He couldn’t have his mom or Jaz drive him everywhere! And what if he wanted to go hang out with friends or spend a night out on the town? And he would graduate in another year and go to college. What would it be like at college for him? What would his life be like if he didn’t change back to being a white guy?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got until finally Doug begged, “Tor! Stop it! Your hurting me!”

Tor looked down at him apologetically as he realized he was crushing his lover’s hand. He loosened his grip, muttering, “Sorry, I was just–”

“It’s Ok. I understand,” Doug soothed, stopping and standing up on his tiptoes to plant a tender kiss on his mouth. Tor looked around and, realizing it was dark and no one could see them, drew Doug against him, thrusting the cock that had just caused him so much trouble against the man’s taut belly.

As always, the physical contact with this stunningly beautiful and faithful man overrode any other thoughts or feelings and Tor lost himself in the pleasure of Doug’s bounty. Sliding his hands down his back, he grabbed those luscious orbs of anal goodness in his big hands and squeezed.

“Somebody’s hole needs a good fuckin’,” he murmured, slapping Doug hard on the ass. “And I’m just the man for the job!”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that!” Doug purred, adding, “Shit, it’s been at least an hour!” 

Tor lifted his head and barked with proud laughter, allowing Doug to lead him by the hand across his lawn and into the house.

***

“It is bigger, Tor,” Doug sighed and then let out a little gasp as Tor drove his monster deeper into his now very stretched out hole. “A lot bigger. And fatter.”

Tor pushed the man back on the bed and guided his knees upward. He then leaned forward and held him down by the arms while devouring him with a kiss. Doug opened his mouth and then they were together, fused. Tor’s cock and tongue thrust deeper and deeper as Doug welcomed him inside. It was pure, delicious union with the man he loved more than anyone in the world and Tor never wanted it to end.

It did end, of course, but only after a lot of sweating, grunting, stretching and pounding. When he was done, Doug Haslett’s hole was well and truly wrecked.

“Ya better hope Dominic is hung like a fucking horse,” Tor joked, settling down on his side and propping his head on his elbow. He slowly, teasingly moved his fingers between Doug’s scarred legs to explore his gaping hole, adding, “‘Cuz otherwise he’s gonna be really disappointed.”

Doug made a face, ass lips half-heartedly closing around his fingers; he couldn’t do it, though; he was way too stretched out. “If I remember correctly,” he murmured, “he doesn’t suffer from a deficiency in that department.”

Tor laughed, saying, “Which is a long way of sayin’ he’s hung.”

Doug nodded, smiling impishly.

“What about your little mound?” Tor asked, moving his hand upward to cup the bump of flesh where Doug’s cock and balls used to be before the improvised explosive device had blown them off. “Does Dominic know about your injury?”

Inexplicably, Doug turned his head away at this. When he didn’t reply, Tor gently squeezed the little bulge reconstructed by the plastic surgeons when they were unable to save the man’s genitals. Covered by underwear, it appeared to be the approximate size and shape of a man’s bulge but when he took off those underwear…Well, Doug’s private anatomy was more akin to a Ken Doll’s than a man’s.

“What’s wrong?” Tor whispered, worried he’d hurt Doug somehow. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

Doug held his breath for a long time before releasing it in a long, slow exhale. Shrugging his shoulders, he said resignedly, “Oh, fuck it! You’re going to find out the truth soon enough anyway, I might as well tell you now.”

Tor stared at him questioningly, lifting his head off his arm to look Doug in the face. “Tell me what?”

“I know you met with Dr. Esquivel today, Tor.”

Tor tensed at the man’s name. He couldn’t stop his voice from growing colder as he stated, “My mom told you about my appointment.”

Doug nodded, lifting a hand to his crotch and placing it over Tor’s. “I’ve known Dr. Esquivel for several years.”

Tor’s hand inadvertently clenched over Doug’s mound, causing his lover to flinch in pain. He forced himself to ease his grip as he demanded, “You have? Did he do some sort of reconstructive surgery on you or something?”

“In a way, yes,” Doug admitted. “Your dad and I went to see him before our last deployment.”

Tor’s eyes widened. “Before your last deployment? But that was before–”

“Before the explosion that injured me and your dad,” Doug finished for him. “Yes.”

“I-I-I don’t understand,” Tor stammered, skin prickling with foreboding. “Why would you have gone to see Dr. Esquivel before your injury?”

Doug’s next words haunted Tor for the rest of his life. Sitting up on the bed and fixing him with those incredibly soft, blue eyes, Doug explained, “My penis and testicles were gone before I stepped on that IED, Tor. Dr. Esquivel removed them at your father’s request.”

Stunned silence.

Then:

“WHAT?!” Tor shouted, sitting bolt upright and staring at Doug with horrified confusion. “WHY? WHY WOULD HE DO THAT?”

Doug’s gaze never faltered. He kept his eyes steadily on Tor’s face as he replied, “I was your father’s property, Tor. I gave up everything for him, even my manhood. I did it out of devotion, out of love. And I would do it all again if I could.”

***

Chapter 5

The following day, Tor’s therapist, Dr. Khan, surveyed him from across his desk much as he had on his first appointment several days prior. He didn’t blink, didn’t betray any emotion as he observed him. He steepled his long fingers before him, covering his lips. But his eyes… His depthless brown eyes were tinged with sadness and something else that Tor didn’t recognize.

After a while, he stirred and lowered his hands. He was, Tor realized for the hundredth time, quite a handsome man. And, even with a dense, black beard, he appeared younger than Tor had first thought, probably no older than Doug Haslett, maybe even younger. Or maybe he was just naturally boyish? His eyes, however, were the eyes of an old man.

“Tor,” he began in his rhythmic voice tinged by a Tadjiki accent, “Setting aside your changing race for a moment, what you have been through since our last session would be a heavy lift for anyone. I’m surprised you seem to be doing so well.”

Tor opened his mouth to speak but Dr. Khan held up his hand, forestalling him.

“A sexual encounter in the produce cooler at a grocery store with a clerk? Seeing another man court the man you love and then being dumped? Having sex with your brother’s best friend while your brother watched and, well, let’s just say, participated in some manner? Being accosted by the police in an altercation that could have turned violent? And then this new revelation about your father…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head before concluding, “I think we need more than an hour today. I will clear my schedule if you can stay longer.”

Tor blinked, caught off guard. “I, uh, sure. Yeah, sure. I can stay longer.” He didn’t know why exactly but the resistance he’d felt during his first visit had faded somewhat. Maybe it was because he was overwhelmed and desperately needed to talk?

Dr. Khan nodded and stood up, leaving the office briefly. When he returned, he announced, “We have until 2pm.” He settled down in his chair and fixed Tor with a serious look before adding, “Before we go any further, though, I need to inform you that I am bound by professional ethics to report what you have told me about your relationship with Douglas Haslett to the authorities.”

Tor sat up, alarmed. “What!? But–”

“Relax,” Dr. Khan murmured. “I’m not going to do so yet. And I may never. I need more information before I make up my mind.”

Tor nodded, heart thudding in his chest.

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

Dr. Khan nodded. “And how long have you been in a sexual relationship with Mr. Haslett?”

“Since July.” Tor’s tongue felt thick, stuck to the back of his throat. Inwardly, he was freaking out. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut about Doug? Shit shit shit! He should have just sat there for the entire hour and said nothing. But… But he was upset by what Doug had told him about his father and Dr. Esquivel and he needed to tell someone about it. Dr. Khan seemed like the safest bet. He was a grownup and it was his job to listen and help him. He lowered his head, hating himself. Why, oh, why hadn’t he just shut up?

“And you say that you pursued him, is that right? He did nothing to encourage your advances?” Dr. Khan was watching his face closely. “Tell me the truth, Tor. I know you want to cover for him but it is very important for you to be honest.”

Tor swallowed, raising his head to fix Dr. Khan with an anguished stare. “I am not lying! Doug didn’t do anything! I’m the one who made him…um, have sex with me. I swear!”

There was a long silence during which Dr. Khan considered this. After a while, he sighed. “Alright. I am not going to the authorities right now but I will consult with my colleague–”

“What?!” Tor interrupted. “No! You can’t!”

Khan held up an elegant hand. “Relax, Tor. I will maintain your confidentiality and Doug’s for now. And I promise to let you know if that changes. I won’t do anything behind your back.” Tor sagged down in his chair, partially mollified. 

After that, the doctor was silent for a long time, so long that Tor lifted his head questioningly, searching his face. Finally, Khan met his gaze, offering a sad smile as he murmured, “Ah, Tor, I don’t know how to say this. I had hoped to keep it a secret but now that you have told me about what your father did to Douglas Haslett, I feel I must tell you. It may help you to understand him better.”

“T-T-Tell me what?” Tor croaked. The doctor’s strange behavior was beginning to unnerve him.

Dr. Khan sighed and took a deep breath before continuing, “Again, in the interest of full disclosure, I need to let you know that I knew your father in Afghanistan. He played a pivotal role in my life. Indeed, he gave me my freedom and helped me to emigrate to the United States.”

Tor’s eyes widened as he sputtered, “He did? How?” Did every fucking person in the whole world know his father?

The doctor was watching Tor’s face closely as if gauging how much to reveal. For a time, he looked as if he wasn’t going to say more but then he seemed to change his mind and continued, “It is true, Tor. He saved my life and the life of my now husband. Without your father, neither I nor my husband would be alive today.”

The fact that Dr. Khan had just revealed he was married to a man barely registered with Tor; he was completely focused on something else: His father. This man knew his father from back in his war days and his father had saved his life. Unbidden, tears welled up in his eyes as he choked, “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

The doctor pushed himself up from his desk. Striding over to the couch beside Tor’s chair, he sat down and patted the cushion next to him. “Join me, Tor,” he entreated. “This is a grim and difficult tale, one that is best told between friends and not as a therapist to a client.”

Woodenly, Tor staggered to his feet and sat down on the couch. He didn’t look at him, though. He leaned forward and held his face in his hands, waiting for Dr. Khan to speak.

“Are you familiar with the dancing boys of Afghanistan?” Dr. Khan asked. When Tor shook his head, he explained, “Bacha bāzī, it means ‘boy play’ in English. It is an old custom of sexual enslavement and rape of young men still practiced in some parts of my country.” Tor lifted his head in alarm at this but Dr. Khan didn’t seem to notice and continued, “I believe I already told you my father was wounded during the war and fell into a coma as a result of his injuries. Isn’t that right?” 

Tor nodded. How could he forget? It was what had convinced him that Dr. Khan might possibly understand at least some of what he was going through.

The doctor smiled thinly before going on to reveal, “Well, when I was thirteen years old, my family was desperately poor and looking for money to pay for my father’s hospital care. To cover his bills, my uncle sold me to a local warlord to serve as a batcha, his sexual servant.”

Tor’s mouth was hanging open. This was not at all the direction he expected this conversation to take at all!

Belatedly picking up on his discomfort, Dr. Khan stopped and turned to him, asking, “Is this too much information, Tor? I don’t wish to traumatize you with my story.”

“No, it’s Ok,” Tor managed to mumble. “Keep goin’. I wanna hear ‘bout my dad.”

Giving his knee a little pat, Dr. Khan said, “I will withhold the worst details. You must understand that, while I suffered terribly at the hands of my warlord, I would not be here today if my uncle had not taken me to his encampment.”

Tor nodded, mind and heart awash with potent emotions. One thought rode above the turmoil, though: His father. He had to know more about his father!

“I met my future husband one evening while dancing for my master,” Khan said in a wistful tone. “He was only a little older than I, a very handsome, blond-haired and blue-eyed American GI. He had been chosen to accompany his battalion commander to the meeting with my warlord and I was brought out to provide entertainment while they sipped tea and discussed strategy and alliances.” Dr. Khan paused as if reliving the memory, a small smile on his face. Eventually, he continued, “Our eyes met the moment I stepped out onto the carpet and I knew two things immediately: That he wanted me…and that I wanted him.” He patted Tor’s knee, saying, “It was love at first sight, you might say.”

Tor swallowed, uncertain how to respond. Fortunately, the doctor didn’t wait for him to reply. Taking another deep breath, he plunged ahead, “I learned later that Jim, my now husband, had been warned about the bacha bāzī prior to the meeting and his commander had instructed him to ignore us. At the time, the U.S. military’s official position was to treat this practice as a local custom and not to get involved.”

“But–” Tor began but Khan held up his hand, silencing him.

“I know, Tor! I know! I am not saying that it was the right policy and I am certainly not saying that Jim agreed with it. He didn’t! In fact, as soon as he saw me, he became so enraged that he stormed out of the meeting and went back to the base.”

“He left?” Tor asked. “Just like that?” His tongue felt thick in his mouth; the doctor’s tale kept growing more incredible.

Khan nodded, lifting his head and looking off into space as he recalled that fateful night. “I confess I was a little mystified and saddened by his behavior but I soon learned that he hadn’t departed for long. He was intent on coming back.”

“Good.”

The therapist smiled faintly at this. “Jim would have been disciplined by his commander had he still been at the base when the officers returned…but he had already left. You see, Tor, he didn’t go back to the base to get away; he went back to get his weapon. One hour later, he showed up at the front gate of my warlord’s compound and shot his way inside.”

Tor sat up on the couch, spouting, “No way! Really?”

The corner of Khan’s mouth lifted. “Jim, like your father, has never been a timid man. He saw an injustice and acted. Unfortunately, he was not successful in his endeavor to free me. In fact, he nearly paid for his rash decision with his life.”

“What happened?” Tor demanded, breathless.

“He was shot and captured, of course,” Dr. Khan informed him with the sort of sangfroid only the best therapists can manage. “My warlord had him chained, beaten, and unmanned as punishment for his crimes. And he would have been executed, too, had your father’s unit not intervened. It was–”

Something he said gave Tor pause and he interrupted, asking, “Unmanned? What do you mean?”

“Castrated,” Dr. Khan said without a hint of emotion. “They cut off his testicles.”

Tor’s eyes went round and he couldn’t help thinking about Doug in that moment. The difference, of course, was that Doug had chosen to be castrated whereas Jim… He shivered, unconsciously dropping his hands over his crotch.

“He still has a penis, Tor,” the doctor explained, placing a cool hand on his shoulder. “And he injects himself with male hormones so that he is still a real man, whatever that means. I should add that he is proud of his injury and does not seek to hide it; he did not get restorative surgery or prosthetic testes. He says he would give up his manhood again for me without a second thought.”

Tor was so impressed by this that he didn’t reply. He couldn’t imagine sacrificing his balls for anyone!

Returning to the tale, Dr. Khan said, “Your father’s unit was sent to the warlord’s encampment on a stealth mission to retrieve Jim. They were given specific orders only to secure his release and were told not to rescue any of the boys. Fortunately for my sake, your father did not stick to these instructions. While he was saving Jim, a couple of his soldiers broke into our dormitory and freed us.”

While Tor struggled to find the words to respond to this incredible tale, Dr. Khan concluded, “So you see, Tor, that is why I owe my life and my husband’s life to your father. He was my savior.”

Tor was silent for a long time processing this. Finally, though, the gears in his head started working again and he understood something that had always puzzled him before now. “That must be why my dad was demoted and relocated to Kabul,” he said, looking over to Dr. Khan for confirmation. “He was punished for intervening to save you.”

The doctor nodded. “It is just so. He was given specific orders and he disobeyed them. For that, he was punished. However, I know he was proud of what he and his men accomplished. He told me so himself.”

“That sounds like him,” Tor murmured. “He always did things his way.”

Dr. Khan nodded, musing, “Yes, in addition to holding many secrets, your father is a brave man with a strong moral code, Tor. But you knew that already and this isn’t the reason I am relaying this story. There is something else. Something important. I think it will help you to understand the nature of your father’s…unusual…relationship with Douglas Haslett.”

Tor lifted his head, heart clenching with premonition. He almost couldn’t make his mouth work as he asked, “What?”

When the doctor spoke, his words fell like meteors, their impact exploding in Tor’s mind. “Your father and my Jim were lovers before I came into the picture, Tor. They shared a relationship similar to the one it sounds like he developed later with Doug. And I believe Jim’s castration gave your father certain ideas. Ideas that he later carried out on Doug.”

***

Tor sat in stunned silence, absorbing this new and unexpected information about his father. Finally, he turned to Dr. Khan to discover the man was watching him with soft eyes. “So,” he began in a tortured voice, “my father had relationships with other men besides Doug? Relationships that were…”

“Based on dominance and submission,” the doctor finished for him, nodding his head. “Yes. I believe he had a thing for young men who were unconsciously looking for a father figure. He would become that father for them and then…ask…for certain sacrifices in return. The sacrifices grew more extreme over time.”

“But, that’s–”

“That is part of who your father is, Tor,” Dr. Khan said, shrugging. “I am not here to judge it. In fact, my husband still looks back on your father as a positive influence in his life. He says your dad made him the man he is today.”

“And is that how you feel?” Tor demanded.

The doctor gave him a classic therapist’s answer: “It doesn’t matter what I think, Tor. I am at peace with it. I love my husband and am grateful to your father for giving him to me. That is enough.”

Tor scowled at this less than satisfactory reply, balling his hands into fists and shouting, “But he had a doctor cut off Doug’s cock and balls! He turned him into a fucking eunuch! And all this time I thought Doug had been injured! That’s not just wrong, it’s fucking monstrous!”

“Maybe,” Dr. Khan agreed, unruffled by Tor’s anger. “But it sounds like it was consensual. And from what you have told me about your relationship with Doug, you also derive satisfaction from inflicting pain and humiliation on him. Much like your father did.”

Tor sat bolt upright on the couch, eyes flashing with outrage. He was opening his mouth to shout down this insulting insinuation when he realized that Dr. Khan was right. He did enjoy humiliating Doug! He enjoyed it more than a little. In fact, he enjoyed it quite a lot. It was difficult for him to differentiate his love for Doug from his love of humiliating him. As quickly as it had flared up, his rage disintegrated to ash and he collapsed down on the couch, holding his head in his hands. When the tears started to fall, he didn’t try to squelch them and just let them flow.

Dr. Khan allowed him to cry, eventually placing a hand on his back. He rubbed it in circles while Tor sobbed. When Tor’s tears continued unabated, he draped an arm over his shoulders. Tor turned to him then, clutching him in a fierce hug. Surprisingly, Dr. Khan didn’t pull away and hugged him back. They sat like that while Tor savored the simple pleasure of being held by a man in a fatherly sort of way and let himself cry.

When Khan eventually spoke, his voice was low but Tor heard every word clearly. “If I may be so bold, Tor,” he said, squeezing him in his arms for effect, “I would like to offer you some words of advice.”

Tor nodded, face pressed against the man’s sternum.

“Everything we’ve talked about today has to do with power and sex. Together, they are a potent brew that can wound and destroy almost as readily as they nurture and fulfill—sometimes they do both at the same time. Your father drank deeply from this brew and you have discovered that you share his taste for it.”

Tor nodded again, uncertain where the man was going with this.

“Power and sex are an important lens through which to view our lives and our relationships. And important lens, maybe, but one that is often distorted. What I propose instead,” Dr. Khan continued, “is that you use a different lens. Instead of power and sexuality, how about if you view your life through the lens of truth? Find out for yourself what the truth of your life is. Only this way will you discover who you are. Only this way will you grow up and find out what it means to be a man.”

***

Returning from his appointment with Dr. Khan, Tor had just pulled into his driveway and was getting out of the car when a police car pulled up behind him. He was so lost in thought–the therapy session with Khan had been both revelatory and intense!–that he didn’t notice until his foot was on the front steps.

“Tor, wait!” a voice called out.

He looked up and froze. It was Officer Dalton–a.k.a., Good Cop–from two nights ago. He immediately put his hands in the air, assuming the worst. He was glad it was midday and Jaz was at home. Or at least he hoped Jaz was at home…

“Oh, jeez! Put your hands down!” Dalton muttered, shaking his head. “I’m off duty. I saw you drive past and thought I’d check in and see how you’re doing.”

Tor stared at him, confused. Very slowly, he drawled, “I’m fine.” His voice trailed off before he added, “Thanks for asking…I guess?”

Officer Dalton took a step forward, face breaking into a warm smile. Now that he was meeting the officer in daylight, Tor noticed that the dude was quite good looking, handsome even. Probably not yet twenty-five years old, he was clearly of Italian descent with thick, brown hair and olive skin. His eyes were a tawny brown and, right then at least, full of some unidentifiable emotion.

Curious, Tor took a step toward the cop. He knew he should be doing the opposite and heading into the house but he was intrigued by the man’s behavior, his seeming contrition.

“Tor,” Dalton began, “I feel bad about how things went the other night and I want to make it up to you.”

“You…do?” Tor murmured, taking another step toward him. He was close enough to smell the man’s rich cologne. It was a potent scent, the perfect scent for a police officer.

“Yeah, I do,” Officer Dalton said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We treated you bad…real bad.”

Tor looked up into his eyes as the man stepped even closer. He was surprised by how tall Dalton was. Tall and muscular. He made quite an impression dressed in a pressed, black uniform, wearing a leather belt studded with weapons, a nightstick dangling at his side, and polished leather boots gleaming in the sunlight. Tor’s heart began to thud against his ribcage and he didn’t know whether to feel afraid or turned on and finally decided he felt both.

His conflicting emotions must have been written clearly on his face because the next moment Officer Dalton closed the distance between them and stared down at him. The cop’s chest was heaving as he struggled with himself, mouth opening and closing several times without any sound coming out. When Tor didn’t flee and stood his ground, though, Dalton took a deep breath and shook off his indecision.

He reached out and took Tor in his embrace. 

Then he lowered his mouth and his lips found Tor’s.

They kissed.

The kiss was not what Tor expected. Up to that point, Officer Dalton’s behavior had been assertive for the most part, even bordering on aggressive, but as soon as his lips met Tor’s, he became shy. In a far off part of his mind, Tor realized that the guy was probably terrified and couldn’t believe he’d just tracked down the kid he’d pulled over two nights before, stopping him in front of his house in broad daylight…only to find himself kissing him.

Fortunately, Tor had learned one thing very well over the past several months and that was how to take charge of a man. Acting on some half understood impulse, he pushed Officer Dalton back against his patrol car and thrust himself onto him, grabbing the back of his head and forcing his tongue deep inside his mouth. Dalton went slack in his arms before responding with vigor, welcoming Tor’s advances, using his lips and tongue to tempt, tease, and titillate the boy into a growing frenzy. Soon, they were pawing at each other, overcome by a fit of lust. Dalton stopped, however, when Tor tried to unfasten his belt.

Pulling back, he gasped, “Not here. Come with me in the squad car. There’s a place nearby we can go.”

Tor scowled, cock throbbing insistently in his shorts. The last thing he wanted was to be carried away in a police cruiser! Who knew what might happen to him once he climbed inside?

Officer Dalton allayed his fears, though, by opening the passenger side door, motioning for him to take a seat and saying, “I’m not gonna lock you up in back. You can ride shotgun.”

Tor smiled, resistance fading. As a kid, he’d wanted to be a cop and had fantasized about driving a police car. He shrugged. If he couldn’t drive it, being a passenger was the next best thing. He was starting to climb inside when he remembered something and looked up at Dalton, stating, “We’re gonna need condoms.”

“Already got ‘em,” the sexy (and by now somewhat disheveled) police officer informed him, patting his shirt pocket.

Tor pulled a face. “Dude, those little things won’t fit over my dick! You felt me up so you oughta know that already.”

It was almost amusing watching the officer’s face blanch. “I-I-I was thinking that I would…” he stammered, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes.

“What?” Tor challenged. “You were thinking you’d fuck me?” He pointed his index fingers down at his nylon shorts where his monster-sized cockhead was pressing luridly against the flimsy fabric, demanding, “And waste this big dick? Dude! Yer crazy!”

Still refusing to look at him, Dalton whispered, “I mean, I’ve never–”

“Never taken it up the ass?” Tor finished for him, relishing the power that the policeman had ceded to him. He was rounding on the guy, preparing to shove him back against the squad car again and strip him naked right there when he stopped, remembering Dr. Khan’s words from only an hour ago. Exerting great self restraint, he took a deep breath and shook his head. “You know what,” he said, taking Dalton in his arms and hugging against him, “we can do whatever you want. I’m not gonna force you but if you think there is any chance you might want me inside you, I gotta go inside and snag a condom.”

In the end, he went inside and grabbed a handful of condoms from his dresser drawer.

***

“Have you ever roleplayed?”

Tor turned to Officer Dalton, uncertain what he meant. They were parked in a quiet spot in the city park above Tor’s house. After driving through the park, Dalton had pulled up to a hidden drive with a locked gate. He’d exited the squad car and unlocked the gate and driven inside, locking it behind them. Now they were perched on a private overlook that offered a stunning view of the city below. Dalton, however, wasn’t looking out at the view; he was devouring Tor with his eyes, an expression of such wanton hunger on his face that it was almost too much for Tor to take in. This dude really needed him bad!

“It’s nothing weird,” the man assured him, turning his feverish gaze away for a moment. “I just thought maybe we could pick up where we left off?”

A light went on in Tor’s head and he smiled mischievously. “Ah, you mean when you were patting me down and grabbed my cock?”

Dalton’s cheeks colored and he nodded, admitting, “Y-Y-Yes. I fucking dreamed all night about you after that. I can’t get you outta my head so I thought maybe if we…”

Tor’s smile deepened and his cock plumped up. He was half hard already and the thought of staging a mock arrest with Dalton was enough to give him a raging hardon in seconds. Looking down at his exceedingly tumescent crotch, he joked, “My cock sez, ‘Fuck, yeah! Let’s do it!’”

With that, he swung the door open and had started to climb out when Dalton stopped him, pleading, “Wait, if we’re gonna do this, we need to do it right.”

Tor looked over his shoulder at him questioningly. “Yeah?”

The cop’s face turned beet red as he stammered, “I-I-I don’t know how to say this, but–”

Tor cut him off before he could finish, taking pity on him. He might be younger by a decade but he clearly had experience the police officer lacked. “Don’t say anything, dude,” he instructed, smiling encouragingly. “Show me instead.”

***

“Put yer hands up,” Dalton ordered, forcing Tor’s hands onto the roof of the squad car. The police officer was standing behind him as he faced the car, his erection bobbing against the side door. “I gotta pat ya down and make sure yer not packin’ heat!”

Tor suppressed a grin, turning it into a scowl instead; he was determined to play along with the officer’s fantasy. Obediently, he leaned forward, sticking his ass backward and gripping the car roof firmly in both hands. Even though it was essentially a repeat of their encounter from a couple nights ago, the experience was completely different this time. Two nights ago, Tor had been terrified for his life, convinced the policemen would kill him at any moment. But now? Now he felt completely in charge, aroused, and on top of the fucking world.

There was a slight pause before he felt Officer Dalton’s shaking hands grab him under the arms. Tentatively at first and then more boldly, the cop began systematically patting him down, hands moving slowly down his torso to his waist. When those questing hands slid at last between his legs and grabbed his swollen cock, both Tor and Dalton let out a low moan.

“What the FUCK is that?” Dalton demanded, clenching the cock with both hands.

Tor’s eyes rolled back as he panted, “That is my penis, officer.”

“YOUR WHAT?”

Tor moaned again as the cop grasped his shaft, yanking it downward. His vision swam and he saw stars but, as painful as it was, the incandescent pleasure was more powerful and he felt a jet of hot precum shoot out of his cock.

“My penis,” he repeated, proud of himself for being able to speak, let alone for not breaking character. “Please, officer…”

There was a jingling sound followed by a soft thud and Tor looked down to see Officer Dalton’s handcuffs gleaming in the dirt.

“Shit!” the cop exclaimed. “I dropped my handcuffs! Hold still!”

Tor’s face split into an evil grin as he understood that this was his prompt. Quickly sidestepping the policeman, he bent down and grabbed the handcuffs out of his hands. Before Dalton could react, he took him by the wrist and closed one of the cuffs around his arm. Then, moving decisively, he pivoted and hauled the cop’s arm upward, high enough to loop the chain of the cuffs through the metal rack on the top of the squad car. A moment later, he had closed the other cuff around the hapless man’s right wrist and the cop was caught.

Officer Dalton was at Tor’s mercy, handcuffed to his own squad car.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Dalton yelled, struggling fiercely to free himself. He couldn’t do so, of course. His arms were chained tight and Tor held him in a firm grip about the waist. “LET ME GO!”

His demands were met by coarse laughter from Tor. “My turn, asshole!” he growled, shoving his lips up against his ear. He thrust his engorged crotch against the seat of the cop’s pants, making him whimper. Dalton’s pants were heavy but even so Tor could tell that the man had a very nice booty hiding under there. “I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya pay!”

He was reaching forward to unfasten the policeman’s heavy belt when the man stopped him, hissing, “No! Use my knife. Cut my fuckin’ pants off!”

Tor froze, protesting, “But–”

“DO IT!” Dalton shouted. “I’ll buy a new pair!”

Tor complied, reaching down the outside of the cop’s thigh to pull a long, serrated knife from its sheath. Acting on impulse, he brandished it in his face while Dalton trembled in fear. “Alright, mutherfucka,” he drawled, slowly running the blade over the cop’s cheek (while being careful not to cut him.) “Payback’s gonna be hell!”

He sank down to his haunches, taking the cuff of the man’s black pants in his hand. He paused theatrically with the blade positioned against the fabric and smirked at Dalton’s squeal of terror. His cock was fully engorged and pulsing with life, its fat head poking out through the open leg of his shorts. He forced all thoughts of his cock aside, though, as he lifted the knife upward, shredding the cop’s pant leg in one deft movement.

Officer Dalton howled, a very convincing sound of outrage and terror. Tor laughed harshly, moving without pause to shred the man’s other pant leg. The knife was sure and swift and true in his hand and soon the policeman was bending over before him, bare ass sticking up in the air, big butt cheeks framed by the tight, black straps of a jock.

Tor froze as he beheld the masterpiece. Dalton’s firm, muscular ass bulged out from the jockstrap, covered in black fur. As he watched, the man pushed backward, exposing his hairy cleft. If he squinted, Tor could just barely discern the tightest, tiniest little man-pucker hiding within. He nodded his head in appreciation. Yep, there was no doubt about it: Officer Dalton was an ass virgin.

And he was offering up his hole to Tor.

***

Tor tore off Officer Dalton’s shirt, leaving him clad only in a black jockstrap and weapon belt. The man was quaking before him, body wracked with spasms of fear and desire. It was a sight to behold, one that Tor had never in his wildest dreams imagined he would be seeing, much less participating in, and he was determined to exact every last bit of satisfaction from the encounter.

He stepped back and folded his arms, surveying his captive with delight. Acting on intuition, he spat, “Look at ya! Yer a fuckin’ pussy! Shit! Are all cops a bunch a pansies like you?”

“L-L-L-Let me go,” Dalton whined, pushing his ass ever so slightly backward. His nubile hole was now perfectly visible, puckering and unpuckering eagerly only inches from Tor’s dripping cock.

With a casual slip of the wrist, Tor’s shorts fluttered to the ground and he kicked them aside, stepping forth with his naked behemoth rising rigid as a pole before him. “Let you go?” he repeated, savoring every word. “I’m not gonna let ya go until I have fuckin’ ripped yer little hole to shreds. Yer gonna need to wear adult diapers fer the rest of yer life by the time I’m done with ya!”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Dalton shrieked.

It was such a plaintive sound that Tor thought for a moment the man might seriously be afraid and he stopped, whispering, “It’s Ok, dude. We can stop now if you want.”

“DON’T FUCKING STOP!” came the cop’s strangled but very fervent command.

Tor smiled to himself and closed in for the kill. Taking the man by the hips, he shoved his jockstrap down around his knees and reached forward to grab his liberated cock. Officer Dalton’s penis was long and thin with a short foreskin. His balls were tiny and drawn tight up against his shaft. Unlike his ass, his crotch and balls were shaved smooth. Tor was somewhat surprised; he would have guessed the dude would be unshaven with a really fat, big cock. He was Italian after all!  It didn’t matter, though. He simply enjoyed the sweet satisfaction of having the man’s cock, hole, and body at his mercy. He was on top now and he was going to have his fun!

Spitting into his palm, he took that delectable pencil dick in his hand and jacked him slowly while reaching between his legs with his other hand and fondling the cop’s tender hole. Dalton sighed at the touch, his pucker opening to invite Tor’s index finger inside.

“Ha! You slut!” Tor laughed. “Yer just like the rest of the guys I’ve fucked. You act all tough and macho until I touch yer pussy.”

He hawked a thick wad of spit, aiming it expertly at Officer Dalton’s hole and worked it around with his finger before slowly pushing inside. The cop moaned loudly, pushing his ass backward as his hole swallowed Tor’s finger.

Smirking, Tor worked another finger inside, pleased when he felt Dalton relax to make room for him. The man’s hole might be virginal but he knew how to work it! Soon, Tor had three fingers crammed inside that hot, slimy orifice and he knew the cop was ready to be mounted.

He pulled out and extracted the condom he’d stowed in the officer’s belt, tearing it apart in his mouth and sliding it over his aching cockhead. It was really tight and Tor knew he would have to be careful not to break it but somehow he managed to get it over the length and girth of his monster cock.

“I hope this fuckin’ hurts like hell, asshole!” he spat, guiding his cock between Officer Dalton’s thighs.

The cop yelped in surprise when Tor’s huge turtlehead of a glans shoved against his hole and Tor held it there, taking devious pleasure out of feeling the man quail beneath him. The dude had no idea what he was in for!

Partly out of fear of breaking the condom and partly out of respect for the police officer, Tor took his ass virginity with surprising tenderness. He knew his cock was a stretch for even an experienced hole like Doug’s and he wanted to make sure that Dalton’s first time was enjoyable. What was the point in ruining him for future use? He leaned forward and clamped onto the man’s earlobe with his teeth, distracting him with the pain while he forced his cockhead inside his slicked up hole.

Officer Dalton wailed in agony while at the same time pushing backward to meet Tor’s cock and soon it was Tor’s turn to wail as that hot hole enveloped him. He was in ecstasy, his head swimming with potent waves of pleasure as the policeman demonstrated his intuitive mastery of bottoming for a huge cock. Tor’s mouth fell open and he roared like a rutting bear, unable to believe that such bliss was possible. It was transcendent, mind-blowing, and devastating at the same time. Soon, the two were locked in a carnal game of give and take as they drew each other ever higher, ascending to numinous heights unknown to most mortals.

It was an act as beautiful as it was animal, both tawdry and divine, elevated and debauched. As Tor’s hips bucked fluidly in sync with Dalton’s undulations, he wept tears of bliss. He never wanted it to stop. 

Like a tantric yogi, he had found anal nirvana.

***

“Mmmm, dude,” he groaned when it was over, both of them quivering with the delirious aftereffects of orgasm. “I’m wanna keep yer hole on my dick for the rest of my life.”

Officer Dalton giggled, an incongruous but endearing sound from such a big, muscular man. “Sounds good,” he agreed in a small voice, “but maybe you could unlock my handcuffs first?”

Tor laughed and Dalton mewled adorably as he shifted beneath him, pressing his butt even further back and swallowing Tor’s cock to the hilt. Their bodies were drenched with sweat, melded together with a potent mix of bodily excretions. Cum dribbled out of Tor’s condom, running down the cop’s fuzzy thighs. The summer air smelled of man funk, sweat, and musk.

He pulsed his cock teasingly and felt around in the officer’s weapon belt for the keys to the handcuffs, hoping he could unlock the man without having to withdraw his cock from his ass. His fingertips were just closing around the keys when he heard tires spinning out on gravel. He and Officer Dalton tensed, turning with dread to see a police car speeding down the trail toward them. The car came to a screeching stop, rear end flying out in an arc, spraying dust and gravel, as a police officer sprang out. 

Moving with practiced skill behind the hood of the car, the cop leveled his pistol at Tor’s chest, ordering, “Step away from the car, asshole! You’re under arrest for assaulting an officer of the law!”

***

“Easy, Jim!” Officer Dalton called out as the echoes of the cop’s words faded out across the hills behind them. “It’s not what you think!”

Tor realized then that the man must be Officer Bayles, a.k.a., ‘Bad Cop,’ from two nights ago. In the daylight, he was revealed to be a blond-haired and blue-eyed guy with a closely-cropped, reddish beard and a tight scowl. He appeared to be in his mid thirties, perhaps a few years older than Doug Haslett. His features were handsome but also haunted; there was something in his face that Tor found unsettling.

Officer Bayles’ scowl deepened with Dalton’s words and his eyes found and held Tor’s, giving him an unreadable expression. It was akin to the way Officer Dalton had looked at him when he’d pulled up in front of his house. Yes, like it but also different somehow. Tor’s heart began to pound. What was going on with this guy?

Bayles ignored Dalton as he repeated, “Step away from the car.” When Tor hesitated, he barked, “NOW!”

Panicking (he’d never had someone point a gun at him before!), Tor disengaged from Officer Dalton’s ass, long cock exiting his chute with a loud slurp. He stepped aside, lifting his hands in his air, the condom slithering off his pole to land in a sodden wad at his feet. What appeared to be more than a pint of cum leaked into the dirt around his toes.

The sight of his mutantly long fuckstick caught Officer Bayles off guard and he was rendered momentarily speechless. Officer Dalton–still handcuffed to the squad car–took the opportunity to look over his shoulder at his partner and plead, “C’mon, Jim! I was just havin’ fun with Tor here. We were playing a game! You can’t tell me that you and Salaam never play ‘cops and robbers’?” He paused before adding slyly, “Or maybe that’s ‘American GI and Taliban militant’?”

Bayles’ eye narrowed and he gripped his gun, preparing a sharp retort. Before he could say anything, though, Tor interrupted him. “Wait!” he said, turning to Dalton. “Did you just say ‘Salaam’?” The handcuffed man nodded, sweat dripping off his face with the movement. Tor caught his breath, demanding, “As in Salaam Khan?”

Dalton nodded again. “Yeah, why?”

Tor ignored the question and instead squared his shoulders and turned to Officer Bayles. “You’re Jim Bayles, aren’t you? The husband of my therapist, Salaam Kahn, and my father’s old pussyboy?”

***

Chapter 6

Tor was naked and strapped to a table in an exam room, tight bonds across his chest and legs to keep him in place. An IV needle poked into his arm and a strange suction device was attached to his cock, its whirring motor a constant hum as it sucked off his juices. Despite being locked up, he was in an ecstatic delirium, exquisitely turned on and leaking cum at a prodigious rate.

It was all because of Dr. Esquivel.

The giant, bovine doctor had met him and Jaz at his office on a Friday night after all of the staff had left. Jaz had forced Tor inside despite his strident protests, calling him a pussy for doubting the doctor’s intentions. 

“This is for you, bro!” he’d reassured. “The doc’s gonna examine ya and figure out why yer turning black!’”

He’d waved off Tor’s protests, shoving him through the door. Tor might be a good six inches taller but his older brother was a lot stronger thanks to his weightlifting regimen and easily overpowered him. Once inside, the doctor plied him with drinks that Tor guessed had been laced with a sedative, rendering him incapable of resisting suggestions.

And so he awakened some hours later, finding himself tethered to the table and being milked like a cow. His balls ached fiercely from the suction, giving him the worst case of blue balls ever.

He might have spent the rest of the weekend restrained and milked if Dr. Esquivel hadn’t forgotten to give him a second dose of the sedative. The longer Tor lay there, the clearer his head became. Soon, he’d recovered enough mental faculties to strain at his bonds, cursing loudly to no avail.

Eventually, after much struggle, he worked his arms free. From there, it was an easy matter to untie his legs. He looked down at the suction attached to his dick and grimaced. It was a long, clear plastic sleeve more than three inches in diameter and two feet long in order to accommodate his mutantly long, thick dick. A tube ran from the sleeve to a big pump on the floor. Tor’s man juices were being sucked through the tube, filling a couple of five-gallon drums. He stared in horrified confusion at the drums, realizing they were nearly full. What?! He’d been milked of almost ten gallons of cum! No wonder his balls hurt so much!

Wincing, he removed the IV from his arm and turned off the pump before removing the sleeve from his cock. He groaned when he saw his balls had swollen up larger than a pair of softballs. He cupped them, wincing with pain and hoping fervently they were only temporarily enlarged. Despite being pissed off at being held captive, a perverse part of him missed the milking sensation. It had been pleasant in a weird way and his cock felt empty without the suction. It dangled lifelessly between his thighs, inert and heavy. His balls were even worse, even the slightest motion made them ache.

He forced his attention away from his beleaguered equipment and searched for his clothing, eventually finding it folded in a cabinet. He dressed quickly and tried the door, preparing to bust through it if necessary. Fortunately, it was unlocked and the door swung open. He stalked out into the hallway, clenched fists at his sides. He didn’t give a fuck if Dr. Esquivel was a seven-foot muscle bull, he was going to show him that no one got away with treating Tor Riggs like a fucking cow!

It didn’t take him long to locate the doctor. Kael Esquivel was in an exam room at the end of the hallway, standing with his broad back to an observation window. Tor stopped, breathing heavily and seething with rage. His eyes widened when he saw that his brother, Jaz, was lying on the table much like Tor had been, ostensibly naked. (Tor could only see his bare feet and head because the doctor’s massive form blocked most of his view.) The doctor was leaning over him, doing something that Tor could not see. He didn’t wait to learn more; he barged into the room, intent on confronting the twisted doctor.

Before he could utter a word, though, Dr. Esquivel turned, heavy features contorting in a vulpine grin as he announced, “Ah, Tor! Just in time to observe your brother’s transformation.”

Tor halted in confusion, staring down in confusion at Jaz. His brother was completely naked, splayed out on the table before him. His muscled body was devoid of all traces of hair save for that on his head. His skin was still orange from the spray-on tan he’d applied before his latest bodybuilding competition, save for the tiny, pale outline of a posing strap. Tor tried to make himself look away before he saw Jaz’s package but it was too late; the image of his ‘big’ brother’s tiny cock and shrunken, hairless balls was etched into his mind forever.

Jaz looked up at him, smirking. “Well, hello, bro! Ready to be the little guy in the family again? After the doc’s done with me, I’m gonna be hung like a fuckin’ horse and muscled like a goddamned bull!” He paused, eyes glinting feverishly, adding, “And it’s all thanks to you.”

Tor was dumbstruck, feeling his outrage melt away to be replaced by cold dread. Part of his mind refused to believe any of this was happening. It was too surreal. He felt like he’d just awakened into a nightmare and his poor brain struggled to make sense of what he was hearing and seeing. Maybe it was the remnants of the sedative but he could only stand there with his mouth hanging open. As if from far away, he heard himself asking, “Thanks to…me?”

Dr. Esquivel nodded his shaggy head. “Yes, thanks to you I’ve been able to isolate the source of your miraculous transformation and developed a new male-enhancement serum. Jaz has volunteered to be my test subject.”

Tor looked from the doctor to his brother, blinking dumbly. Jaz laughed at his reaction. “Yeah, bro. I’m gonna get everything you got and more, ‘cept for the black part.”

“You’ve made an invaluable contribution to science, Tor,” the doctor continued. “With the semen I’ve collected from you, I will manufacture a targeted male-enhancement drug. In a few months, thousands of formerly under-endowed, scrawny men will have you to thank for their massive physiques and giant penises.”

“And I’m Patient Zero,” Jaz announced proudly, grinning from ear to ear. “My dick’s gonna be dragging on the floor by the time I walk outta here!”

Tor shook himself, finally rousing himself from his stupor. He balled up his fists and drew himself up to his full height, getting into Dr. Esquivel’s face and shouting, “You can’t do this! He doesn’t know what he’s getting into! This is WRONG!”

Kael smiled patronizingly down at him, placing a huge club of a hand on his shoulder and gently but firmly pushing him away. “It’s too late, Tor. He has signed the consent form. He’s eighteen, after all. If he wants to participate in my research, no one can stop him.”

“Yeah, chill the fuck out, bro,” Jaz chided, sitting up on his elbows. “Yer not my mommy.”

Tor turned to his brother, pleading, “You don’t know what yer doin’, man! How many times do I have to tell ya that my cum does weird things to guys?” When Jaz dismissed this with a wave of his hand, Tor turned to Dr. Esquivel and demanded, “How can you be sure the drug will do what you say it will? I’ve only been knocked out for a few hours. How could you have developed something that quickly?”

The doctor’s eyes were dancing with amusement. When he spoke, his tone was like that of a parent talking to a small child. “I’ve been working on it since your last appointment, Tor. And, yes, of course, I’ve tested it. I’ve run extensive trials on mice.”

“On mice?!” Tor repeated, incredulous. “On fucking mice?! You’ve tested it on some mice in, what? A week since I saw you? You can’t be fuckin’ serious!”

“Five days, actually,” Dr. Esquivel replied, undeterred. “That’s more than enough time for a brilliant scientist like myself. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a procedure to perform.” With that, he turned and lumbered out of the room, ducking his head as he squeezed through the doorway.

Tor exhaled in frustration, turning back to Jaz and pleading, “C’mon, man! Don’t do this! It’s too dangerous! And, ‘sides, that dude’s a fuckin’ madman!”

Jaz shook his head. “Nope, I’m stayin’.” His expression sobered as he looked up at Tor. “You don’t know what it’s like, bro!” He gestured to Tor’s tall, well-formed body and the obvious bulge in his shorts. “I’m ‘sposed to be the big man in the family and you’ve turned me into a laughing stock! But not anymore! I’m gonna be bigger, badder, and…er, hung-er than you when I walk outta here.”

Tor frowned, unable to believe his brother could be so dense and desperate. After having lived with the results of one of Dr. Esquivel’s treatments, he would never sign up for another taste. But…he also knew Jaz and, when his bro set his mind on something, there was no talking him out of it. His desire to be the ‘big man in the family’ was clearly clouding his judgment and Tor knew that nothing he could do would convince his brother to leave.

Shoulders dropping, he turned and headed toward the door, saying over his shoulder, “Go for it, bro. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

His hand was on the door knob when Jaz stopped him. “Wait! Tor, don’t go!”

He looked back at him, getting another unwanted glance at his brother’s pathetic crotch. “Why?” he demanded. “Why should I stay?”

Jaz’s brown eyes softened and for a moment he looked almost vulnerable. “‘Cuz I want my little bro here with me, that’s why.” He held out his hand, beckoning him. “I need ya, man! C’mere and hold my hand while I go through this.”

***

He stayed.

He stayed and watched with growing unease as Dr. Esquivel hooked Jaz up to an IV drip, explaining that it was both a way to convey the drug into his system and also feed him the amino acids and other chemicals needed to make him grow big.

“It will work exceedingly fast,” he told Jaz. “You’re going to grow taller and gain a huge amount of muscle mass.”

Jaz met Tor’s eyes challengingly as he drawled, “Ex-cel-lent! I can’t fuckin’ wait!”

Tor folded his arms and clenched his jaw, wondering why he had decided to stay.

Next, the doctor took a pair of clippers and sheared off all of Jaz’s thick, brown hair, leaving him with a military cut that accentuated his square chin and small, juglike ears. “A hung muscle stud needs to look tough,” Dr. Esquivel commented as he cleaned up the scattered remains of Jaz’s boyish curls.

“Boo-yah!” Jaz boomed in an artificially deep voice. He clenched his chest and arms, making his muscles pop.

Tor rolled his eyes, leaning back against the sink and waiting for the drug to kick in.

Dr. Esquivel was right; it didn’t take long before Tor noticed Jaz’s already pumped muscles swelling. His jaw dropped as his brother’s frame pulsed and expanded, his shoulders growing wider, waist growing narrower and his legs growing longer. Jaz lifted his chin and howled in delight, staring defiantly up at Tor.

“Tole ya, bro,” he bragged. “I’m gonna be yer worst nightmare!”

Tor swallowed, watching in disbelief at his brother’s shoulders grew even wider, causing his arms to fall off the exam table. His biceps and triceps were likewise growing rounder and fatter. His delts turned into bowling balls and his traps protruded over his collar bone, engorging to the point that they crept up his neck. Jaz arched his back and let loose a loud roar as Dr. Esquivel replaced the IV bag with another, bigger one. When Jaz tried to lay his head back down on the table, he found he couldn’t; he’d outgrown the table!

The doctor smiled and pulled out an extendable headrest, easing it under Jaz’s shaved head. He did the same with the sides of the table, making it wide enough to accommodate the jock’s rapidly growing mass.

Tor’s attention was drawn to his brother’s lower body where his thighs were now giant-sized, so wide and fat and filled with veins that he looked more like a slab of beef than a person. His calves became massive as well, jutting out from behind his lower legs and raising his feet off the stainless steel table. And, speaking of those feet, Tor stared in fascination as Jaz’s toes spasmed, shooting out a couple inches even as his feet broadened and grew longer.

“Oh, yeah!” Jaz crowed. “My cock and balls are next! I can feel ‘em buzzin’!” He fixed Tor with a triumphant stare, adding, “Watch me outgrow ya, bro!”

This was enough for Tor. He turned and headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, “I’m leaving. Have fun being a freak for the rest of yer life.”

He grabbed Dr. Esquivel’s arm on his way out, dragging the insane man along with him. When they were in the hallway, he thrust the towering brute against the wall and pushed himself up into his face. “You will pay for this, you goddamn asshole! I’m not gonna let you get away with what you did to me and Jaz!”

The doctor’s eyes widened slightly when he realized how strong Tor was. He might tower over him and outweigh him by a hundred pounds but he was no match. With one arm, Tor pushed him up the wall, heaving his giant body up off the floor. His feet dangled helplessly in the air.

Tor stood on his toes, getting so close to the doctor’s face that he could smell the bullman’s fetid breath. “I know what you did to Doug Haslett,” he hissed. “He told me everything. And don’t tell me that you were just doing what my dad tole ya to do, ‘cuz it’s still fuckin’ wrong!” He paused, lowering his voice to a whisper while grabbing the doctor’s enormous balls with his free hand. Dr. Esquivel moaned in pain and Tor smiled coldly, challenging, “You know what the difference between a bull and an ox is, Doctor?”

Dr. Esquival shook his head weakly and Tor smirked. He took grim satisfaction out of watching the arrogance drain out of the man’s face. The pupils dilated in the doctor’s gold-flecked eyes; he gazed back at Tor fearfully, waiting for his response.

“An ox has no balls,” Tor replied after a long, ominous silence. To drive the point home, he squeezed those giant testicles hard and stepped away. The man crumpled to a heap at his feet, holding his crotch and whimpering piteously.

Tor’s lip curled and he turned on his heel, stalking out of the clinic.

***

Chapter 7

When Tor left the clinic, he headed over to the nursing home to visit his father. It was the weekend and the place was uncharacteristically quiet. He saw no visitors in the hallways and even staff members were scarce. This was fine with him; he was in no mood for people and just wanted to be alone with his dad.

Chris Riggs was lying on his back with his mouth open when he entered the room. Even though it had only been a few days since his last visit, Tor was still taken aback by his diminished frame and aging body. Barely forty years old, he looked much older…like an aging skeleton, Tor thought bleakly.

“I know what you did to Doug,” Tor said, taking a seat in the chair next to his father’s bed. “I know you had him castrated and turned into a Ken Doll.” When there was no response, Tor, continued, “And I know you were fucking Jim Bayles before you took up with Doug. How many other guys were there before him? Did you ever think of Mom?” His voice cracked and he blinked back tears, “And what about us? What about me and Jaz? Did you think we’d never find out?” He lowered his head into his hands, unable to stop the tears. “You cursed us, Dad! You fucking cursed us! We’re fucking doomed to grow up and be just like you.”

He didn’t know what he expected but he got nothing. His father continued to lie unresponsive on the bed, just as much of an enigma as before the injury that had left him incapacitated. Even apart from his perverse sexual history, Tor realized he’d never really known his father. From the time he was a little boy, his dad had been absent, on tour for months and then only back for a few weeks before leaving again. It was enough time to leave an impression of a rugged, heroic man to be idolized…but little else. There had been only a few moments when Chris Riggs had been a real father, guiding his sons toward manhood and offering the love and care they so desperately needed. Instead, it had been his mother who had taken up the burden of raising her sons, a task that she had excelled in, for sure. But on her own she could never fill the hole left by their missing father.

It was like Chris Riggs had died even before Tor was born.

***

He spent the day alone, wandering like a lost spirit in the park in the hills above the city. He kept away from people and enjoyed the first real taste of the freedom he’d experienced since his skin had turned dark. He hadn’t realized how wearisome it was to be out in public in his mostly white neighborhood. Even if the majority of people didn’t pay much attention to him, there was still an undercurrent of unease each time he approached someone on the street or passed by them in the store. As hard as he tried to ignore it, the effort of trying to appear harmless was draining.

In the woods, he was just himself and could let his thoughts and feelings wash over him. After a few hours, he felt grounded again. His perspective returned and he shook his head at the sheer craziness of everything that had transpired in his life since he’d started taking hormones at Dr. Esquivel’s clinic. What an adventure! It was heartbreaking, confusing, exhilarating, enraging and revelatory all at once. And he had the strong sense that it was far from over. No, there was more yet to come.

His stomach growled and he realized he hadn’t eaten since the day before. He thought about returning to his house to grab something to eat but was not ready to go back home. On a whim he took the metro downtown, breathing a sigh of relief as he walked the streets filled with people of diverse backgrounds. There were Asians, Latinos, black and whites. No one paid much attention to him and those who did invariably cast admiring glances in his direction. He squared his shoulders, growing more confident as he strolled along. He might not know who he was anymore but maybe that wasn’t so bad? It meant he was free to discover his own identity, free from his past and his father’s long shadow. Or so he hoped.

“Yo, Tor! Over here!”

He looked up at the sound of a familiar voice and smiled when he spotted Roosevelt Hodges seated in his wheelchair in front of the city skatepark. The boy raised a hand and waved, smiling broadly and beckoning him over. Tor couldn’t help grinning back–Roos was so handsome!–and jogged over. The park was filled with guys and girls on skateboards, zipping and twirling in a dizzying display of acrobatics on wheels.

“Dude, I wouldn’t have expected to find you here,” Tor commented as he strode up, grasping his forearm in greeting. “It must be weird comin’ back to the scene of yer accident.”

Roos blinked in surprise before barking with laughter, “Man, that’s what I love ‘bout you! You don’t bullshit around!” He paused before adding slyly, “And yer literate, too. Quotin’ Melville in the barber shop!” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You really are sumthin’!”

Tor lifted his shoulders, absurdly happy that Roosevelt Hodges had just said that he loved something about him. His heart thumped with pride in his chest even as his monster cock stirred in his shorts. Dipping his head bashfully, he observed, “And yer sumthin’, too, Roos. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

Suddenly sober, Roos looked up at him with his beautiful, limpid eyes. “I won’t lie, man. It’s hard. It’s super fuckin’ hard.” He paused to gaze out over the park, adding, “Unless there’s a fuckin’ medical miracle, I’ll never ride a board again. I hate this fuckin’ chair!”

Tor had no idea what to say to this and instead remained mute. There was a park bench nearby and he inclined his head toward it, asking, “Join me?”

Roos nodded and wheeled himself over to it. Tor sat down and the two boys watched the skateboarders in silence for a long time as the August sun faded and darkness slowly descended. Finally, Tor’s stomach reminded him that it was running on fumes and he suggested they get something to eat.

And so it was that Tor and Roos had their very first date.

***

He walked back home in a daze after their shared meal, the taste of Roos’ mouth still fresh on his tongue. They had shared a sweet yet passionate kiss upon parting with Roos pulling him down onto his lap and caressing his body with those strong, confident hands. “I might not be able to feel much down there but I can still get hard,” he’d murmured in Tor’s ear, bouncing him on his sizable bulge to drive the point home.

Tor moaned in response, writhing against that tantalizing tumescence. Roos was the first guy he’d consider bottoming for. And, when he did, he suspected it would be a new experience for both of them; he’d never heard of Roos being with a guy before.

They had parted with a promise to meet up again after school started the following week and Tor strolled home with his head drifting in the clouds. Roosevelt Hodges! He’d kissed Roosevelt Hodges!

He was so distracted that he didn’t hear the squad car pull up beside him until Officer Dalton rolled down the window and whistled at him. “Yo, Tor! Why didn’t you reply to my texts?”

Tor froze. Even though he knew it was Dalton, the sight of the squad car got his pulse pounding. “Your texts?”

Officer Dalton nodded, beautiful face suffused with a palpable longing that got Tor’s dick throbbing. “Yeah. I texted you a bunch of times. I wanna roleplay again! I want you to tie me up and torture me!”

“Now?”

“Why not? I just got off duty!”

***

This time Officer Dalton took him back to his apartment. Tor was barely through the door and the guy was tearing his clothes off in his desperation to get at his cock. When it flopped out, leaking and half-hard, they both stopped in surprise.

“It’s even bigger!” Dalton breathed, getting down on his hands and knees. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth like a salivating dog. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ! It’s even bigger!”

Tor stared down at his manhood in shock. Would it ever stop growing? He’d been so distracted with everything that he hadn’t noticed the massive weight of his inflated balls until that moment. They were throbbing painfully in his distended nutsac. And his cock…His cock was truly enormous. More than two feet long and fatter than a baseball bat. He had never seen anything like it. Had it been hanging out of the leg of his shorts without him realizing it?

While he gaped down at it, Officer Dalton stripped out of his uniform. Soon, he joined Tor in his nudity, standing beside him and staring at their naked bodies in the full-length mirror across the room. “Look at me!” he exclaimed. “I got a pathetic baby dick in comparison to yours!” He waggled his hips, making his little man dance back and forth. “I got a baby dick!”

Tor didn’t know whether Dalton was embarrassed or excited by this revelation and finally realized he was both. It was all part of the dude’s fantasy roleplaying. He watched the man pull on his pencil dick with mock desperation, trying to make it appear bigger, but it was no use. Even though it was probably only slightly smaller than average (for a white guy), it still looked ridiculously tiny next to Tor’s masterpiece.

Tor found this display incredibly arousing and soon his behemoth was standing up, pointing proudly at the ceiling. Both men gazed at it with reverence, awed by this gravity-defying feat. Tor reached over and pulled Dalton against him, relishing the man’s muscular bulk. While he may not have much of a cock, he was gorgeously ripped with muscle and his dark, Italian skin shone lustrously in the dim light. 

He rubbed his giant cock against Dalton’s thin, insignificant one and murmured in his ear, “Wanna have a real baby dick and a phat ass that won’t quit?”

There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation before Dalton replied breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! YES!”

Tor smirked. “Lemme fuck you without a condom. You’ll have a tiny nub and giant peach when I’m done.”

Dalton laughed at this, clearly believing that this was part of their roleplaying, but he was game for anything that had to do with Tor’s giant cock up his ass.

Tor fucked Officer Dalton while he was face down on the bed, his wrists handcuffed to the posts and his ankles tied to the baseboard. The dude moaned with ecstasy as Tor forced his huge cock into his hot hole. He was not gentle, ramming in at full-force until the man was howling. It didn’t take long for him to explode inside the cop’s vacuous rectum, drenching him with load after load of spunky juices. 

And then the magic happened.

Plump-Plump-Plump!

Tor shook his head, unable to get over the effect his cum had on guys. Even before he pulled out, he could feel the dude’s ass cheeks swelling beneath him. By the time he had untied Dalton, the man’s buttocks had expanded into generous bubbles, pushing him up off the bed until he was wobbling back and forth as if perched on two cushions.

Despite Tor’s warning that this would happen, Dalton freaked out. He lifted his butt off the bed and stared back at it, mouth falling open. He was so taken aback by his bubbling ass cheeks that he didn’t notice his dick shrinking until it was down to a meager three inches.

By then it was all over.

He understood too late that Tor hadn’t been engaging in a harmless bout of roleplaying; his jizz really was remaking his body, his masculinity and his pride forevermore. It was almost comical watching his face drain of color and hearing him holler in agony as his dick retracted down to two inches…one inch…a half inch…and finally a nub. His foreskin shriveled and he was left with the tiniest button imaginable, a truly insignificant cock.

Tor was true to his word; Officer Dalton now had a real baby dick.

***

“You will only wear panties from now on,” Tor instructed as he helped Dalton squeeze his enormous bottom into a pair of shorts. Even covered, that ass was obscene; his massive bubbles strained against the nylon fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. “You gotta promise me you’ll only wear panties.”

Dalton nodded, eyes glazed with shock. His cheeks were still wet from the tears he shed as he watched his manhood disappear but even so it was obvious that he still didn’t fully grasp how drastically his life had changed. From that day forward, his oversized buttocks would make him the butt of jokes at the station and, when the other cops saw his baby dick…Tor smirked at the thought. 

He cradled the shivering cop in his arms, whispering in his ear, “A tramp stamp. The next time I fuck you, I wanna see a tramp stamp over yer ass. Make sure it’s so big and bold that no one’ll miss it when you take yer shirt off. I want the whole world to know what a stupid slut you are.”

Dalton mewled like a lost kitten. The dude’s misery was like an aphrodisiac for Tor and he felt his cock stiffen again. God, he fucking loved humiliating this cop!

“You’ll never fit into yer uniform now,” Tor goaded, eliciting another whine from Dalton. “You’ll need tailored pants to fit over that big, girly butt.”

Part of Tor was appalled at himself for being so cruel but his arousal easily overrode any regrets. It had been a rough day and he’d earned a little fun. Besides, he knew the man was getting off on it on some level. Once Dalton recovered from his shock, he would embrace his role as a permanent bottom.

Tor continued twisting the knife in Dalton’s wounds, jeering, “I wish I could see the guys on the police force when you strip down in the locker room and they see yer pink panties and little, useless clit.”

The agonized wail that escaped Dalton’s lips was full of despair. But then the dude reached down and massaged his little button with a forefinger and Tor smiled. Yeah, the dude would recover. He’d be alright. Stupid fucking cop.

He turned to go, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few days, bitch. When I do, make sure yer wearin’ sumthin’ slutty.”

He slammed the door behind him, realizing as he did so that maybe he wasn’t quite as free of his father’s long shadow as he’d hoped.

***

He had barely stepped out of Dalton’s apartment when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled when he saw it was Doug. 

“What? No Snap? Someone could see our call history and find out ‘bout us!” he joked. “You must be real desperate to have yer pussy stuffed.”

Tor didn’t need to see Doug’s face to know he was blushing. When he spoke, though, his tone was serious. “Uh, maybe later. Right now I need you to get over here.”

“What’s wrong, babe? You Ok?”

“I’m fine, Tor, but we need to talk.” He ended the call leaving Tor with a racing pulse and a growing sense of dread.

Doug met him at the door when he arrived and Tor hugged him tightly, inhaling his rich, masculine scent as he did so. He wrinkled his nose, though, when he detected an unfamiliar odor; it only took a second, though, for him to identify its origin. “Dominic,” he stated coldly. “You were with Dominic Bettencourt, weren’t you?”

Doug went stiff in his arms. “Yes. Dominic and I had a date tonight. It was nice.”

“Is that why you called?” Tor demanded, scowling. “To dump my sorry, black ass now you got someone better?”

“Of course not!” Doug said, kissing his ear. “I already told you I’m not breaking up with you.” He pushed away from Tor and fixed him with those startlingly clear, blue eyes. “I’ve tried to quit you, Tor, and can’t do it. Dominic will need to learn to share if he wants to be with me.”

“Uh huh,” Tor replied, skeptical. “I’m sure that’ll fly.”

“It will, Tor. I promise.” Doug stepped back and motioned for him to enter. “But let’s talk about that later. Right now, there is something else more important.”

Tor’s brow furrowed as Doug led him into the bedroom. He grew briefly hopeful that his lover was teasing him and this was all just a ruse to get him into bed but he stopped cold in the doorway, staring in shock at the man seated across the room.

His dad.

It was his dad!

He closed his eyes, knowing that his eyes were playing tricks on him. When he opened them again, he had to steady himself on the dresser. A quick glance at Doug confirmed that he was having the same sense of déjà vu.

“You fuckers look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Tor’s mouth fell open. “Jaz? Is that you?”

His vastly transformed brother laughed, a deep, familiar sound that sent shivers down Tor’s spine. “‘Course it’s me, bro! Who else would I be?”

Tor fell silent, brain reeling as he tried to come to terms with this apparition who looked just like his father the last time he’d seen him before the explosion. He knew it wasn’t really his dad but he couldn’t convince his mind of this. Try as he might, he still saw his father sitting before him.

He wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks and, falling down to his knees, reached out to take Jaz’s huge hand in his own. He stroked it fondly before lifting it and putting it against his cheek. After a pregnant pause, Jax responded, cupping his cheek and squeezing those big, beautiful fingers against his skin.

Jaz leaned forward and took Tor’s face in his hands, kissing his forehead. “Tor. Oh, Tor!” he sighed. “I’m so sorry. Doug tried to tell me that I looked like…,” his voice trailed off as he was unable to complete the sentence. He swallowed thickly, continuing, “but I didn’t believe him. I’m so sorry!”

It took Tor a long time to collect himself and, when he did, he was left emotionally brittle and exhausted. Tears sprang to his eyes every time he glanced at Jaz and he had to make himself stop looking at him.

Finally, he managed to choke, “It worked, Jaz. You got what you wanted. You really are the big man in the family now.”

Jaz gave a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, sort of. I’m definitely big. Bigger than Dad, I think. It’s hard for me to remember. He always seemed oversized to me.”

“You’re the same size,” Doug murmured. He was slumped against the far wall, looking just as worn out as Tor. “Exactly the same size. He…um, he took a lot of steroids.”

Jaz nodded. “Fortunately, I’m clean.” He paused to motion down to his immense musculature. “This is all natural. Well, maybe not exactly natural but I’m not on ‘roids.”

Tor took a breath and held it, gathering up his strength before lifting his gaze back to Jaz. He forced himself to study his brother’s new body, marveling not only at his likeness to their dad but also his perfection. He wasn’t bloated or overgrown, just perfectly muscled and lean. His bulging frame strained against his clothing, rendering every sinew visible. He was, Tor saw then, the epitome of the ideal American male, clean-cut and macho with giant muscles and a chiseled physique. Only his soft, brown eyes reflected a vulnerability that didn’t fit the ideal. Tor decided he preferred him this way, though; Jaz possessed a receptivity and softness that their father had lacked. He felt like he was seeing a whole new Jaz, not just physically transformed but emotionally as well; there was no hint of his older brother’s habitual arrogance. He was just Jaz. Jaz without the attitude. For the moment at least.

Tor’s tongue was swollen in his mouth as he asked, “Has Mom seen you yet?”

Jaz shook his head. “Not yet. I came here to see Doug first. He–” His voice broke off as he lifted his nose and sniffed the air delicately before exclaiming, “Jesus, bro! You stink like man spunk! Were you just fucking someone?”

Tor’s cheeks colored and he looked back at Doug before averting his gaze. “I, um, well–”

“That’s Ok! That’s Ok!” Jaz said, holding up his hands. “I don’t wanna know! It’ll just make me envious.”

Tor was so busy feeling guilty that it took him a moment to question this. Finally, though, he asked, “Envious? Why? You can go out and get laid as much as you want now!” 

Silence.

Doug and Jaz exchanged meaningful glances, leaving Tor in the dark.

Skin prickling with premonition, he demanded, “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

Jaz sighed heavily as he heaved his immense bulk out of the chair and towered over him. Dressed like a soldier, he was wearing a pair of army fatigues and a sand-colored tank top that really set off his impressive chest. His nipples pressed out against the fabric like little bullets.

“You see, bro,” he explained, looking down at himself. “I have a lot more in common with GI Joe than you might think.” 

When this was met with confusion from Tor, he reached down and unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants and exposing the jockstrap he was wearing underneath.

“I dunno why I’m even wearing this,” he commented, gesturing down at the jock, “‘Cuz good ol’ Doc Esquivel made sure I’ll never need support again. He did the same thing to me that he did to Dad’s little pussyboy here.” He smirked, looking over at Doug before fixing his eyes challengingly on Tor. “And, yeah, Esquivel tole me all ‘bout you and Doug, too. Yer one sick fuck, bro. Fuckin’ Dad’s little whore! Even I’m not that desperate!” When both Tor and Doug objected strenuously to this, he waved them off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. You’re in love, whatever the fuck that means. But I digress. I was gonna show you why I’m here.” 

He paused to rest his hands on the waistband of the jock. Before Tor could react, he yanked the strap all the way down, revealing his naked crotch and, for the second time that day, Tor was confronted with an unimpeded view of his big brother’s genitalia…or what was left of it. Despite his best efforts to look away, his eyes slid down Jaz’s incredibly striated abs, making their way inexorably lower.

He flinched, abruptly closing his eyes.

It didn’t matter, though. The image of his brother’s smooth, hairless mound was forever burned into his memory.

Jaz’s masculine pride and joy was gone.

He was really just like a GI Joe doll in every respect.

***

Chapter 8

Tor’s senior year of high school began a few days later. It was the first time he’d been back to school since his mysterious transformation into a towering black man and he quickly learned that his classmates were less than supportive. He was shunned by both the black and white kids while the other students had no idea what to think of him. Adding insult to injury, they even invented a new nickname, calling him ‘The T’Oreo’ because, according to them, he was white on the inside and black on the outside. Only his friend, Josie Ramirez, stuck by him.

It was almost like going back to the days before his hormone treatments. Back then, he’d been unpopular because he was so tiny and prepubescent and now he was an outcast for the opposite reasons. In truth, he’d only experienced life as one of the popular kids for less than one year before the trip to Mexico that changed his life and, if he had to choose, he’d take being a huge, hung black guy over a shrimpy, short-dicked white boy. Besides, judging from the stares aimed at his crotch, his fellow classmates were more envious than anything else.

He and Josie settled back into the comfortable rhythm they’d enjoyed for years, hanging out at the back of the classroom and texting each other jokes, strolling through the hallway hand in hand, and doing their homework together in the library. They savored these moments more than ever because each knew it was only a matter of time before this chapter of their lives would be over.

Tor treasured his friendship with Josie for another reason; she was the only constant in his life. There had been so much turmoil and upheaval in the past year that he’d been left reeling. The latest blow came when Jaz announced he’d joined the army and shipped off to bootcamp on the same day that Tor went back to school. Feeling like his legs had been kicked out from under him, Tor was devastated and pleaded with his giant, muscular brother to stay behind.

“I-I-I thought you were gonna go to community college!” he sobbed, clinging to Jaz’s chiseled bulk. “Don’t go! I need you!”

Jaz sighed and patted his back. “Listen, bro, this is sumthin’ I gotta do, Ok?” He flexed his bicep, adding, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta follow in Dad’s footsteps ‘cuz, let’s face it, yer no soldier.”

Tor sniffled, rubbing his nose on his brother’s arm. “Jaz, please!” he begged. “We’ve already lost Dad! If anything happens–” his voice broke off, unable to complete the sentence. 

“I’ll be fine, bro,” Jaz said, chuckling. “Don’t be such a fuckin’ drama queen! Yer a man now. Act like one.”

With that, he’d slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and sauntered out the door.

***

Water polo practice was…interesting. Tor hadn’t realized it before but the team was made up entirely of white players. Now that he was no longer white, he was struck by this uncomfortable fact as soon as he strode into the locker room. A dozen pale faces looked up at him and he momentarily froze, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He recovered quickly, shaking his head at himself. Why was he so jumpy around white people? After all, he’d been one for all but the last five months of his life!

He took up position in front of his old locker and began to strip, not noticing that the room had gone silent around him. He happened to look over his shoulder as he was stepping out of his boxers and flushed when he realized that all eyes in the room were locked on his giant cock. It dangled down past his knees, thicker than a man’s arm. His big, heavy balls swinging in his freshly-shaved ball sac only served to exaggerate the immensity of his manhood. He stumbled, nearly falling over in his attempt to conceal it, but it was no use; there was no way he could hide his monster.

It only got worse when he tried to stuff it into the pouch of his Speedo. He cursed his stupidity under his breath; he should have gotten a new swimsuit before school started! Why hadn’t it occurred to him that he’d need a bigger pouch? Sometimes being a hung stud was a pain in the ass!

The coach wouldn’t let him out on the pool deck until he’d donned three Speedos, each one tighter than the last. He walked out with his eyes watering and head swimming, feeling like his balls were caught in a vise. His cock was numb and he worried that he was going to have permanent nerve damage by the end of practice. 

When bending down to jump into the water proved impossible, he pleaded for an exemption to wear shorts during practice. The coach reluctantly agreed but insisted he’d have to wear a Speedo during the team’s matches–a decent Speedo, that is. “We can’t have you parading around in public like that, Riggs!” the coach growled. “The games are ‘sposed to be family-friendly!”

Tor expected it to be a rough practice because he hadn’t so much as dipped a toe in the pool in nearly six months. In a way, he was right; it was rough but mostly because his cock and balls got in the way of his legs while he was treading water. Surprisingly, though, his endurance, speed and accuracy had never been better. He was so effective that the coach made him the center and Tor was soon scoring goal after goal with deadly accuracy. By the time practice was over, he’d been promoted to team captain and the other guys were falling over themselves to get on his good side. He shook his head in amusement at this abrupt turn of fortune, especially enjoying the solicitous pats on the ass he received from a couple of the boys.

His status improved markedly both on the team and in school from that day forward. He tried not to let it go to his head, though, and mostly ignored the adulation from his classmates. The only people at school he cared about were Josie…and Roosevelt Hodges.

Roosevelt Hodges.

Tor sighed, longing to be with the tender, beautiful boy again. The problem was that Roos had stopped replying to his texts and hadn’t shown up at school. As the weeks rolled on, Tor grew increasingly desperate and finally resorted to plying his barber, Isaac Holden, for details on Roos’ whereabouts.

“Roos? Oh, he away at Shriner’s for rehab,” Isaac explained, motioning to the south of the city where the hospital was located. “Why you askin’?”

Tor shrugged, earning a frown from Isaac who preferred his clients to remain stationary while he was working. “Jus’ curious is all. I haven’t seen him at school.”

Isaac exhaled loudly. “That poor boy! He’s in rough shape. Always gettin’ infections and the like. He’s spent more time in the hospital than out of it since his accident.”

Tor managed to keep himself from shaking his head as he replied, “Yeah, it sucks. Do you know if he can have visitors?”

“Now how’m I ‘sposed to know that, Tor? Why don’t you go down there and find out for yerself? It’s only a few blocks away.”

***

Another hospital. 

They seemed to be his lot in life.

Tor strode into the Shriners Hospital, thinking he was prepared but lost his nerve as soon as he inhaled the antiseptic odor and saw the kids in wheelchairs. He would have turned and left if the friendly attendant hadn’t approached and guided him by the elbow to the information desk. Once there, he managed to find his voice and ask about Roos.

“He’s here,” the woman behind the desk said, smiling up at him. “Do you want me to call his room?”

Tor shook his head. “Nah, I don’t wanna bother him. I jus’ wanted to–”

But the woman was already dialing. A moment later, she cupped her hand over the receiver, telling me, “Go on up. He’s in the A Wing. Room 2002.”

Tor smiled in thanks and set off down the hall, feeling like an interloper. If Roos had stopped replying to his texts, what made him think the guy would be happy to see him in the hospital?

The door was open when he arrived and he knocked on the frame, heart skipping a beat at Roos’ deep voice inviting him inside. He hesitated a moment because his feet didn’t want to move but he finally lurched forward, face breaking into a relieved grin when he saw Roos lying on the bed.

“You found me.”

Roos’ voice wasn’t exactly warm but it wasn’t cold, either, and Tor took it as a good sign. He tried not to stare down at the boy’s inert lower body as he nodded. “Yeah, Isaac Holden tole me you were here.”

Roos pulled a face. “The fucker! I made my dad promise not to tell anyone where I was.”

“Well, you know how it is with barbers, Roos,” Tor said, reaching down to smooth the sheet on the bed. “They find out everything.” He waited politely for permission to sit. The boy nodded and he settled next to him, taking his hand. It felt cold to the touch but it was so big! He fitted his fingers in between Roos’ immense sausages and they sat for a long time without speaking. Tor didn’t realize he was crying until Roos reached up and brushed the tears out of his eyes.

“I missed you, Roos,” he said, sniffling. “I was worried.”

Roos’ jaw clenched. “You don’t even know me, Tor. And I’m not even sure if I’m gay.” He didn’t remove his hand from Tor’s cheek, though. “‘Sides,” he continued, nodding over to the floor where his wheelchair was sitting, “in case you haven’t noticed, I’m paralyzed. I can’t give you what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?” Tor demanded, sitting up straighter. “Jus’ ‘cuz I’m gay doesn’t mean all I think ‘bout is a hard cock.”

Roos grimaced, looking off to the side. “Well, that’s good to hear ‘cuz it’s gonna be a long time before you’ll get a hard cock from me. I got a UTI, Tor. It’s bad.”

“UTI?” Tor said it before he answered his own question. “Oh, a urinary tract infection.”  He was quite familiar with the malady; his father got UTIs frequently, probably for the same reasons that Roos did.

“Yeah, I get ‘em all the time. ‘Cuz of the catheter. That an’ the fact I can’t move.” His eyes filled briefly with anguish before he shoved the emotion aside, announcing bitterly, “The human body’s meant to move, Tor! We die if we can’t move!”

“Maybe,” Tor agreed, leaning down until his lips were only inches away from Roos’. “But we die faster if we don’t love.”

He half-expected Roos to turn away but he didn’t. In fact, he lifted his head and met Tor’s lips, welcoming him inside his mouth…and his heart.

***

Roos started replying to his texts after that and Tor visited him several times a week. It was challenging because he was so busy with schoolwork and water polo but he managed to squeeze the time in. Unfortunately, this meant he lost touch with Doug. There was only so much time in the day and he was maxed out; their Snapchat conversations dwindled and they never spoke. Tor missed the man but he knew that Doug was dating Dominic in earnest now and decided it was probably for the best that they didn’t spend much time together. Despite Doug’s assurance to the contrary, he doubted that Dominic would be thrilled by the prospect of sharing his new boyfriend. And Tor didn’t relish the idea much, either.

And so September passed and soon it was October. Tor started spending some nights at the hospital with Roos, pleasantly surprised when Roos’ dad asked him to do so. He and Roos would do their homework together and Tor would join him for an occasional physical therapy session. Roos gradually developed enough muscle to haul himself out of his chair and take a trip down the hallway with a walker. He couldn’t really move his legs but was able to swing his hips side to side and could (mostly) keep his feet underneath him. It was a huge accomplishment but Roos took no satisfaction from it. If anything, it seemed to depress him further. There were days when he refused to see Tor at all.

Tor was torn. On the one hand, he was falling hard for Roos and felt his love increasing every day. They were compatible in so many ways, sharing the same interests, preferring the same books and movies, and enjoying the same humor. Tor was more optimistic than Roos and tended to draw him out of his stoic shell but Roos was more pragmatic and tended to keep Tor tethered to the present. And then there was the undeniable sexual attraction that each felt for the other. Tor thought Roos was almost unbearably handsome with his full, sensuous lips and firm jawline and those depthless brown eyes. The way he could look at him as if he were seeing deep down into his soul; there was no man alive who could move him like Roosevelt Hodges.

On the other hand, Roos was in a hard place and it dragged on Tor. As the autumn days grew shorter and the nights gloomier, Roos became more depressed. He devoted less energy to PT and was less enthusiastic in general. Tor found it difficult to motivate him and Roos lashed out more frequently. Sometimes, it was difficult to even be in the same room with him. Tor came to appreciate why Roos’ girlfriend had abandoned him; the guy did not make it easy to love him! After weeks spent by his side, Tor began to understand what life with Roos would be like and he wasn’t sure he could take it. The thought of breaking up with him was too much to bear, though. No, he would stick it out and see what happened. Roos was worth it!

***

That season, Tor’s water polo team crushed the competition. With him as the center, they were unstoppable and, as the team’s winning streak grew, the (mostly white) crowds started to spill out of the bleachers. There were games where it was standing room only and Tor would look up out of the pool in amazement at the sea of cheering faces. 

He was the star attraction and not just because he was such a skilled athlete. His fans made it clear from their sometimes provocative catcalls that they appreciated…well, let’s just say they appreciated one aspect of his body more than others. (Even though he did his best to rein in the beast between his legs, there was no way to completely hide the monstrous bulge in his Speedo.) He was chagrined to learn that there was even an Instagram page dedicated solely to pics of his crotch. Just one more example of white folks being obsessed with big, black cocks, he thought sourly.

The winning streak continued until one game when Tor almost blew it.

It started out like all the others with the opposing teams entering the pool area from opposite sides and lining up for introductions before leaping into the pool. Tor was bored and not paying much attention until he emerged from the locker room.

The most gorgeous boy in the world.

His eyes popped out when he beheld him. A tall, stocky, white guy with copious, black body hair and an unruly mop of brown hair. He had a perfect button nose and the poutiest lips imaginable. And that beard! Shit, the boy had a full beard and he was probably only seventeen or eighteen at the oldest.

As pretty as he was, though, Tor’s attention was drawn inexorably downward. When the hefty cutie turned to the side and he beheld the true magnificence of his burgeoning buttocks, his cock nearly split the crotch of his Speedo down the middle. He had to jump into the water to keep from embarrassing himself.

What an ass on that boy!

Tor’s eyes were locked on the kid’s bright red Speedo and the bounteous treasures it contained. When both teams were in the pool, he kept dipping down beneath the surface of the water to ogle the boy’s massive butt cheeks. He was so distracted that he didn’t realize the game had started until the opposing team scored the first goal.

“Tor!” his friend Joshua hissed in the water next to him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Pay attention!”

Tor started to apologize but then, from across the pool, the Big Butt Boy caught and held his gaze. His heart skipped a beat when the kid puckered those big, sensuous lips and blew him a kiss.

It was all downhill from there.

They were behind ten points by halftime and the coach reamed Tor out in the locker room, chiding, “I need you to focus on scoring points, not tail, Riggs!” The guys around him snickered and Tor hung his head. “You can ask him out after we win the game,” the coach continued, earning several sly pokes in the ribs from his teammates. “We can still win this but it’s not gonna be easy!”

Tor neck was burning with shame but even so he was having trouble thinking of anything besides that giant whiteboy ass. Drool slid out of the corner of his mouth and he wiped at it self-consciously.

It took everything he had but he managed to ignore the dude and his team eked out of a narrow victory. Tor was back in the limelight, much to his chagrin. The pics of his bulge that showed up on Instagram after that game were some of the most lurid yet. He could barely fit his swollen cock and aching balls into his pants after he showered.

He was walking bowlegged down the hall upon exiting the locker room when someone cleared his throat behind him.

“Congratulations, Tor. I thought we had you there for a while.”

He turned and was met with the fully-clothed version of the magnificent Booty Boy. If possible, he was even cuter when he was dressed and Tor flushed at the sight of those big buns encased in the tightest pair of jeans.

His tongue was thick in his mouth as he stammered, “Um, thanks, man. Thanks.” He paused to stick out his hand, asking, “Have we met before?”

The guy’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember me?” Before Tor could answer, though, he shook his head, saying, “Of course, you wouldn’t!” Motioning down at his big, muscular body and giant ass, he continued, “I’ve changed a lot since you fucked me. Thanks to you.”

“Me?” Tor’s voice came out as a croak. “What do–?” Then he remembered. He remembered! His jaw fell open and he stammered, “J-J-Jimmy? Little Stocker Jimmy? The dude from the grocery store I fucked in the produce cooler?”

This was met with a sphinxlike smile. “The same.”

“Fuck, man, yer–I mean, Jesus, bro! Yer…yer…yer–”

Jimmy lowered his eyes demurely, finishing for him, “Fuckable?”

“Yep, that’s the word.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jimmy said, smile deepening, “‘cuz I want a rematch. You ready to score another goal?”

***

“Jimmy, we gotta use condoms this time!” Tor protested. “You already know what happens when we don’t!”

But the big-butted boy would have none of it. “No way, Tor. We’re both on PrEP. No need for protection.” He underscored this point by waggling his butt provocatively, causing Tor’s cock to spasm.

“It’s not HIV I’m worried ‘bout, bro!” Tor muttered through clenched teeth. Waves of desire were washing over him and his cock was desperate to bury itself inside the boy’s hot hole. “It’s the other stuff! Yer cock’s already shrunk down to a little nub. What d’ya think’s gonna happen when I fuck ya again?”

Jimmy stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “I don’t give a fuck ‘bout that. I wanna ride yer cock and that’s it.” He looked down at his greatly fleshed out bulk, adding, “‘Sides, I love what happened to me after the first time, ‘cept for the short dick thing, ‘course. But my dick’s already as small as it can get. What could go wrong?”

“Dunno,” Tor conceded with a shrug. His resistance was gone and he now was at the mercy of his cock. He’d learned from experience that when his cock set its sights on a guy’s ass, he was all but helpless. “But don’t say I didn’t try to warn ya!”

***

Jimmy drove him to his parent’s house, explaining, “They’re gone for the weekend, man. We can fuck up a storm as long as we don’t wake the neighbors!”

Tor needed no further encouragement. His cock was rock-hard and leaking in his pants and he all but fell out of the car in his desperation to get at Jimmy and his giant peach. They stumbled through the front door, laughing, with Jimmy’s clothes strewn in an uneven line behind them.

Naked, Jimmy’s body was a wonderland of pleasure. He was voluptuous and firm at the same time with big, pulsing muscles and soft mounds of fat in all the right places. Tor buried his face in the boy’s ass, eating his man pussy with such wild abandon that Jimmy’s neighbors finally did call to complain. Chastened, Tor tried to rein himself in…to little avail. In the end, he stuffed his t-shirt in the kid’s mouth to muffle his amorous screams.

After getting his salad tossed drove him nearly to insanity, Jimmy pleaded with Tor to fuck him. There was no need to ask twice. Tor pushed him down on his hands and knees on the bed and positioned himself behind him, his fat cockhead poised against Jimmy’s sloppy hole.

“You sure ‘bout this, bro?”

Jimmy whimpered, his face buried in the pillow.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tor said, grinning, and proceeded to send Jimmy on the wildest ride of his young life. The first time they’d fucked, it had been rushed and awkward. This time, they were both seasoned butt warriors and knew precisely how to drive each other crazy. Soon, Tor was chewing his tongue in the effort to stop himself from bawling like a stuck bull. Jimmy’s soft, immense cakes enveloped him, cushioning his thrusts and eliciting pleasing, rhythmic slaps. His hole was tight and hot but not so tight that Tor’s cock caused him pain. They were a perfectly matched set and Tor lost himself in this new, potent bliss. Even Doug’s experienced pussy had nothing on Jimmy’s eager, slutty hole!

They came in tandem, Jimmy fingering his little nub while Tor exploded inside his now very accommodating hole. Aromatic juices leaked down the boy’s thick thighs as he trembled in ecstasy. Tor fell down over his sweaty back, eyes rolling back in his head. His cock was vibrating, still spasming and shooting load after load. He couldn’t remember ever scoring such a sweet and rewarding goal.

He humored Jimmy after he pulled out, allowing the boy to tug him backward and position him on his ample lap. He didn’t even try to push away the kid’s fingers when Jimmy started playing with his hole.

“I wish I could fuck you back,” Jimmy whispered in his ear. “But you took that possibility away from me.”

Tor grimaced. “Are you mad?”

There was a slight hesitation. “No. Not really. I mean, it would’ve been nice to know what it’s like but I’m Ok with it.”

“Yer super, smokin’ hot just like you are, man. I mean it.”

Jimmy laughed. “I know! I could tell as soon as you saw me tonight.” He paused before adding shyly, “And yer not the only one. I, er, well, let’s just say this ass gets a lot of attention from the guys on my team.”

“I can tell!” Tor praised. “Yer a real power bottom, dude! I can’t believe yer my lil’ Stocker Jimmy!”

He turned and met the boy’s mouth with a sweet and lingering kiss. He lay against that big, muscular chest, listening to Jimmy’s heartbeat as the boy stroked his head. It wasn’t long before his cock was hard and he was ready for another go. This time, though, he vowed to show Jimmy’s little man some love and pushed himself up on his hands, preparing to go down on the kid.

He stopped short, though, staring down at the boy’s naked crotch. The light was dim in the room and he blinked, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him.

But, no, he was seeing exactly what he thought he saw.

Jimmy’s eyes were closed and his head was thrown back, cradled in his hands. When Tor continued to stall, though, he cracked an eyelid. “What? Sumthin’ wrong? My cock’s hard as shit for you!”

Tor hesitated, heart pounding in his chest. His mind was awhirl at what he’d just seen between Jimmy’s hulking thighs. Finally, he managed to choke out, “Um, hard’s not a word I use to describe you right now. In fact, it’s probably never gonna be a word to describe you again.”

Jimmy grimaced, propping himself on his elbows. “Yer such an assh–”

He never finished.

As he spoke, his gaze had drifted downward, eventually landing on his crotch and the juicy, hairy clam of a pussy he now sported. That night, Jimmy learned the hard squishy way what happens to a boy who gets fucked twice by Tor’s magic cock. Let’s just say it wasn’t at all what he expected…or wanted, for that matter.

***

Chapter 9

Tor fucked a real pussy for the first time that night. Curiously, he found the experience not abhorrent. He did it more out of pity than anything else but grew to enjoy it the more he fucked Jimmy. Tor’s conscience wouldn’t let him leave without helping the kid feel better about himself. 

As could be expected, the boy was pretty upset by his dick changing into vulva. It was Tor’s job to help him out, leading him into the new world of sex with a cunt between his legs. Exercising supreme self-control, Tor refrained from saying, ‘I told you so,’ and gradually sweet-talked his cock into that virgin boy pussy. 

There was blood on the sheets afterwards. Tor smiled, reaching out to chuck Jimmy under the chin. “Yer hymen, dude,” he explained as the boy looked down in confusion. “I broke yer hymen. Guess it’s a good thing I wore a condom this time or I mighta gotten ya pregnant.” When Jimmy’s lower began to tremble at these words, he leaned down and kissed him, reassuring, “Don’t worry! Yer even hotter with a twat, dude. I’ll be back to stretch out both yer holes, don’t worry!” By the time he threw his clothes back on and left, Jimmy was sleeping soundly, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

He messaged Doug on Snap as soon as he was out on the street. >>Dude, my spunk makes guys grow pussies if I fuck them more than once without a condom!!!<<

Only a few seconds elapsed before Doug messaged him back, >>Really? You should market that.😊<<

Tor sighed. >>Dude, I’m serious! This is freaky shit!<<

Doug’s horniness, however, made him immune to the gravity of Tor’s discovery. >>How about you head over here and try it out on me. My pussy needs a good workout. Dominic got me all wet but left without fucking me. ☹️<<

>>Yer such a slut.<< Tor clicked send, rolling his eyes. His cock, though, was already plumping up in his pants.

>>Guilty as charged. Now get the fuck over here!<<

***

Happily, the pussy that Doug was referring to was merely an asshole and Tor plunged into it with gusto. It was probably the tenth time he’d fucked that day but he was on fire. Doug Haslett had that effect on him. The dude might be nearly twice his age, balding and missing any semblance of a male appendage, but Tor’s dick always spurted at the sight of him. Doug was his first crush and his first piece of ass and thus would always occupy a special place in his groin. And something about watching the dude debase himself in his desperation to ride Tor’s mammoth cock was extremely titillating.

His dick was still lodged up Doug’s gooey hole when they lay back, panting with exhaustion. “What’s yer man, Dominic, think about us?” he asked, pulsing his cock to underscore his words.

Doug moaned on top of him, turning his face and meeting Tor’s lips for a sweet kiss. “I haven’t told him yet.” He dipped his head, adding, “I’m too ashamed of myself. I keep thinking I’ve moved on but I can’t get over you. You’re like a drug, Tor. A sweet, sexy drug!”

“Sweet and sexy, huh? Is that all?”

“And hung,” Doug admitted. “There’s always that.”

Tor laughed, throwing Doug back underneath him and fucking him until he was raw.

***

He had texts from Jimmy, Officer Dalton and Roos when he awoke the next morning. Doug was nestled against him, snoring soundly and looking particularly adorable with his lips parted and the fresh stubble on his chin. Tor’s eyebrows lifted when he spotted a few white hairs in the dude’s blond stubble that he’d never noticed before. Tor lowered his mouth and kissed him before gently extricating himself from the embrace. He paced out to the kitchen, giant cock swinging like a bat between his legs. He looked down at himself and frowned at his ashy skin. He’d forgotten to moisturize after the game and the chlorine in the pool was no friend of African skin.

He snapped a selfie, cutting it off at the base of his girthy cock, and sexted it to Roos, asking, >>Got cocoa butter?<<

His phone chimed a moment later and he grinned wolfishly when he saw that Roos had sexted him back with a similar pic. Seeing the guy’s nude body had an instant effect on him and he had donned his clothes and was on the way out of the house before he knew what he was doing. This was the first time that Roos had sent a naked selfie and it left Tor giddy. Even after weeks of Tor visiting him, the boy was extremely shy around him and had never allowed Tor to see him completely naked. This is definitely a good sign! he thought as he jogged down to the metro station, hopping on the train that would take him to the Shriners Hospital. 

Roos was waiting for him when he arrived. The door to his room was ajar and Tor pushed through it, stopping in happy disbelief when he saw that the guy was completely naked, perched on the edge of his bed.

Roos smirked up at him, jerking his head over to the bedside. “There’s the cocoa butter, bro. Now get to work.” He looked significantly down at his torso which, Tor could readily see, was just as ashy and in need of moisturizing as his own.

He closed and locked the door behind him and tugged his shirt over his head before stripping out of his shorts. In a moment, he was standing naked before Roos, his massive dick rising luridly into the air between them.

Roos’ eyes went round and he swore under his breath before lifting his eyes to meet Tor’s gaze. “That’s more than I got by about a foot,” he muttered, glancing down at his own crotch. He’d removed his catheter and his dick was lying between his legs. Half-hard and shaved smooth of pubes, the dude’s piece was quite impressive, although admittedly not nearly as big as Tor’s.

“Do you think I care?” Tor asked, kneeling before the boy, his giant balls sagging on the floor between his legs. He reached over and removed the lid from the cocoa butter, dipping his hand into the jar. “I love you, Roos. I love you just like you are.”

With the utmost care, he massaged the lotion into Roos’ skin, lovingly covering every inch of his body. Roos tried to resist at first but then succumbed to Tor’s tenderness and allowed him to take charge. They ended up with Roos atop Tor’s back, straddling him with his hands pressed down on his shoulder blades and his now rigid cock sliding into the cleft of his muscular buttocks.

“I can’t believe I’m this hard!” he breathed, leaning down to kiss Tor’s ear. “I haven’t been this hard since…”

Tor smiled, reaching over to grab the tub of cocoa butter and sliding it back to Roos. “Don’t waste time, bro! Get that cock inside me now before we both regret it!” Roos took the tub and gingerly slathered up his dick and applied a generous amount to Tor’s crack. His touch became more tentative when his finger scored his virgin pucker and Tor had to talk him through it. “It’s just a hole, bro!” he coaxed. “Think of it as a pussy only tighter.”

Roos hesitated, his fingertip a half inch inside Tor. “It doesn’t feel like a pussy! Look, Tor, I’m not sure I can–”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, just fuck me!” Tor barked, making Roos jump. “This is my first time, too, you know! I’ve never let a guy fuck me before and I’m not sure I’m gonna like it.”

“I was gonna say I’m not sure I can cum,” Roos replied in an injured tone. “My dick doesn’t work right since the accident. Sumthin’ ‘bout the nerve damage. And I can’t really feel anything down there. I wanna do this, though. I really wanna!”

Tor relaxed beneath him, consciously opening his pucker to envelop Roo’s moist finger. “Loosen me up, man. Yer gonna have yer work cut out if yer gonna fit that big-ass cock in there!”

Roos proved to be a quick study and had worked most of his hand inside Tor before he withdrew. Lying carefully down on Tor’s back, he bit his ear before guiding his plus-sized cock into his butthole. Tor’s eyes rolled back inside his head as he felt that girthy fuckstick forced its way deep inside him. He moaned loudly and Roos clamped down harder on his ear, distracting him from the pain. 

And then they went at it.

Even though Tor had to work harder because of Roos’ paralyzed lower body, it was a wild ride! Roos ultimately showed himself to be more than capable at taking the dominant role. He kept Tor constantly off-balance, deftly lulling him into submission only to strike, driving Tor to new heights of pleasure and pain. By the time he exploded inside him, Tor was pleading for release but Roos wouldn’t let him touch himself.

“I wanna suck you off,” he insisted, thrusting his still-hard cock deeper. When his cockhead scored Tor’s prostate, he moaned in delight.

“So this is what it’s like,” Tor murmured, gently pushing his buttocks upward to envelop more of Roos’s rod. “I had no idea that being on the receiving end could be so fun!”

“And I had no idea I could do it,” Roos said, shaking his head. “I was feeling around in the dark, man. I couldn’t feel what I was doing but somehow it didn’t matter. And I was still able to cum!”

“Yes, you did!” Tor praised, smiling happily. Nothing felt better than having Roos inside him. “Yer a pro!”

Roos pushed himself off, his dick making a loud slurping sound as it exited Tor’s chute. They both laughed and rolled around on the bed, holding each other and kissing. Tor could feel his new lover’s precious juices trickling out of him and it thrilled him to no end. Bottoming for Roos was even better than he’d hoped and he was drunk with desire. He obediently allowed the boy to grapple with his monster cock, doing his best to wrap his mouth around it. It didn’t take him long before he came to a violent and elated climax, spewing hot, milky cum all over Roos’ startled face.

“Magic dick and magic lips,” Tor commended, body shivering from head to toe. “Yer the best, man!”

“Maybe,” Roos replied, wiping his face. “I just hope I don’t pay for the butt sex with another UTI. We really should’ve used condoms.”

“We’ll be more careful next time.” Tor propped himself up on his elbows and regarded his beautiful boyfriend with starry eyes. “‘Sides, it’s prolly better you were on top. I haven’t tole you this yet but there’s sumthin’ weird with my cum. I think it’s a side effect of the hormone treatments that turned my skin black. When I fuck a guy without a condom, his dick shrinks up to a nub.” Roos froze and then started spitting, desperately trying to eject all traces of Tor’s spew from his mouth, but Tor stopped him, laughing, “Don’t worry, bro! Swallowing my cum is fine. It’s just that we need to use condoms if I ever fuck you.”

“Well, that’s never gonna happen,” Roos vowed. “There’s no way I’m gonna let that freakin’ monster near my hole!”

***

They fell asleep afterward and Tor drifted into a blissful slumber, happier than he’d been in a long time. Roos wrapped his big arms around him and they spooned, his cock pulsing languidly in the crack of Tor’s butt. It was the culmination of a long, slow courtship between the two boys and part of him couldn’t believe he’d actually succeeded in landing Roosevelt Hodges as a boyfriend. He drifted off with a big, goofy smile on his face, feeling Roos’ heartbeat thudding in a pleasant rhythm against his back.

When he awoke, he was looking into the blue eyes of the most beautiful, blond boy he’d ever seen. He blinked, convinced that he was dreaming but the boy smiled and opened his mouth, pronouncing, “Tor.”

It was a familiar voice coming from a complete stranger.

Tor closed his eyes and reopened them, demanding, “Who are you?”

The boy’s smile deepened and his fathomless blue eyes twinkled with delight. “I’m the proud new owner of yer ass virginity, dat’s who.”

Mind whirling, Tor stiffened when the boy squeezed him tighter against his soft, nubile body. His brain refused to believe what his heart was telling him. He wrestled to free himself from the boy’s grip, eyes round with fear, demanding, “What happened to Roos? Where is he?”

The boy’s eyes clouded. “Whaddaya mean where am I? I’m right here, you big dork.”

“No!” Tor gasped. “No no no no no no no! It’s not possible!”

“What’s not possible, Tor?” The boy’s brow furrowed, regarding him with confusion. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me!” Tor exclaimed, panicking even as dread filled the cold pit of his stomach. “It’s you! Look at yerself!”

The boy sighed and started to push himself upright when he froze, staring with alarm at his hands. As Tor watched with horrified fascination, the boy’s gaze traveled down his arms to his naked torso. And then he was staring at Tor, blue eyes filled with alarm as he demanded, “What THE FUCK did you do to me? Why the fuck am I WHITE??!!”

Tor was opening his mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door. A moment later the handle shook as someone tried to open it. “Roos!” a man called out from the other side. “Roos! Open up! It’s me. It’s time to take you home, son!”

***

“If you were gonna turn me into a white guy, couldn’t ya have at least fixed my legs?” Roos demanded several hours later when he had finally been released from the exam room. He wheeled into the waiting room, ignoring his worried father and making a beeline for Tor.

Tor’s mouth fell open. Like everyone else, he was in a state of shock over Roos’ impossible transformation into a blond white boy. He was an extraordinarily cute white boy, too, although Tor preferred the old, black Roos over this cherubic, pale-skinned teenager. Next to him, Roos’ dad sat up. He was unable to do anything but gape at his son, though; he kept looking from Tor to Roos and back again. 

“Well?” Roos shouted. “Why didn’t you fix my legs? I’m still a fuckin’ parapalegic!”

“Roos, l-l-l-look,” Tor stammered. “I–”

But his boyfriend was having none of it. He pushed away from Tor’s outstretched hands and scowled, looking down at his wheelchair in disgust. “This is the worst!” he complained. “I’m a fuckin’ freak! A fuckin’ paralyzed freak!”

Several very confused-looking doctors had followed Roos into the room. While Tor tried unsuccessfully to cajole Roos into talking to him, they informed Roos’ father that they had no explanation for his son’s mysterious change. They then approached Tor and asked if they could do some tests on him. “Mr. Hodges informed us,” the lead physician began hesitantly, “er, that your…ejaculate…might have something to do with his condition. He claims that you have recently changed, um, ethnicity as well.”

“It’s not my cum,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “That does other stuff to guys. I think this was ‘cuz of my asshole. It happened after he fucked me.”

He looked up to find the room had gone silent. The doctors were studying the floor at their feet and Roos’ dad was holding his head in his hands. Everyone’s cheeks were rosy, especially Roos’ whose complexion could only be described as florid. Tor had forgotten how deeply white boys could blush!

Heat creeping up his own neck, Tor pushed himself out of his chair and stalked out of the room, saying over his shoulder, “You know what? Fuck all of you! I’m leavin’.”

***

Chapter 10

Dr. Khan met him at his office after Tor called him begging for a session. Even though it was late on a Saturday afternoon, he could tell from the urgency in Tor’s tone that he needed to talk. He showed up a half hour later and let Tor inside, sitting down at his desk and listening intently at Tor unburdened himself.

“You’ve left a trail of carnage behind you,” he observed after Tor had finished. “Much like your father. I suppose the difference is that, unlike him, you have the ability to make things better.”

“I didn’t ask to be this way,” Tor grumbled, unhappy to be compared once again to his father. “I just wanted to be a normal guy! I didn’t sign up for the rest of the shit that came along with it!”

“That’s true,” Khan conceded, steepling his fingers in that annoying habit of his. “But now you know what you’re capable of doing to other men and you need to take responsibility for it.”

“How? How do I do that?”

Dr. Khan sighed. “I don’t know. You will have to figure that out for yourself.” When Tor scowled, he softened his tone, saying, “Look, Tor, I’ve told you before that what you’re going through would be a lot for anyone, let alone an adult. Being a teenager is hard enough without the added burden of…whatever it is that you are.”

“A freak, you mean?” Tor challenged. “Say it, Doctor! Say I’m a freak!”

Khan shook his head. “You’re no freak. Just abnormally gifted.” When Tor exhaled in disgust at this, he continued, “Listen, Tor. You want my advice? Try using your gifts to help others. And, if that’s not possible, at least refrain from harming them.”

***

Tor didn’t realize until after he got home and was standing the shower that anal sex with Roos had also had an impact on his own body: His dick had shrunk down to half its former enormous size. Oh, it was still huge, measuring well over a footlong flaccid, but at least it didn’t slap against his knees when he walked anymore. 

He smiled as he took it in his hand, massaging himself to an erection that was blessedly just under two feet long. So bottoming makes it shrink, he thought, arching his back as he got ready to blow. And topping makes it grow. Good to know. I wonder what will happen if I let Officer Dalton fuck me with his nub? Will his cock grow back? And will he turn into a black guy afterward? He laughed at this but sobered again when he thought of Jimmy. Poor dude can’t fuck ever again! Looks like he’s stuck with a pussy for the rest of his life!