“Wyse, get your fucking dick out of my face!” Tre Jackson swatted at Dan, intending to push him out of the way but his friend turned at that moment and his hand landed squarely on Dan’s bare ass. There was a loud smack that rang out across the bar.

“Ooh, spank my butt,” Dan laughed, waggling his ass and moving it too close to Tre’s face, “I’ve been a bad boy!” Tre blanched. His friend was wearing an obscene red thong and he glanced away uncomfortably as his gaze landed on his friend’s hairy crack.  Looking at Dan’s skinny white-boy butt wasn’t much better than staring at his package.

“Just get away from me!” Tre snarled, shoving his buddy away. Undeterred, Dan danced around in front of him, just out of reach. Their friends barked with laughter and Tre growled in the back of his throat. He wanted to kill Dan!

The evening was quickly taking a surreal turn. 

Tre and a bunch of Dan’s other buddies had stumbled into the bar earlier that night, intent on celebrating Dan’s bachelor party before he and Melissa married the next weekend. As Dan’s best man, it had fallen on Tre to plan the festivities and they were heading to a bar that Tre had picked out when but Dan had veered into this creepy place, eerily named The Devil’s Club.

“Strippers!” Dan had shouted, pointing at the neon sign in the window. He was already more than a little drunk from imbibing too much cheap Champagne in their rented limo and Tre knew all too well how unpredictable his friend was when under the influence.

“Hold on, buddy!” Tre had called out, trying to catch his arm. “Our place is on the next block…” But Dan was already on the way inside. The other guys roared their approval and followed Dan, leaving Tre to stand alone on the sidewalk. After a moment, he’d sighed and gone in behind them.

As Tre entered, a short, blond guy was standing in the entryway, holding out a tray of drinks to the guys. Tre pushed everyone aside, managing to insert himself between the man and Dan just as his friend was reaching for a glass on the tray.

“Free drinks!” Dan yelled loudly. Tre rolled his eyes.

“Celebrating something tonight?” The guy asked in an amused tone as Tre surveyed the inside of the club. 

There sure are a lot of guys in here, Tre thought. Where are all the women? Holy shit, he realized, it’s a gay bar!

“Hey, Dan,” he started to say but Dan cut him off.

“Fuck yeah, we’re celebrating!” he crowed. “I’m fucking getting married!”

“Congratulations!” the blond guy said in an ever so slightly icy tone. He turned to Tre, eyes narrowing. “And you must be the lucky bride?”

Tre scowled but Dan laughed loudly at this and, before Tre could react, grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Fuckin’ A, yeah! He’s my fucking bitch!”

Tre pushed him away, shouting, “I am not your bitch!” 

Dan fell back, arms windmilling. He would have fallen over if one of the guys hadn’t caught him. He grinned, though, and, shaking himself, stepped forward again to lean unsteadily on Tre. Tre tried to shove him away but Dan locked his arm around his neck and held on.

“Tre and me are getting married!” he announced, reaching with his other hand to grab Tre’s ass. Tre swore angrily and swatted his hand away. “He’s gonna have my babies!”

“Well, boys!” the man was saying, seemingly amused by their antics. “In that case, let me get you a cocktail I’ve concocted for precisely this sort of occasion.” He disappeared behind the bar for a moment before returning with two glasses filled with a smoking, vermillion liquid. He held them out to Tre and Dan, bowing slightly.

Tre stared at the drinks, uncertain. He didn’t like the way the blond guy was talking to them and he really didn’t like being in a gay bar. His instincts told him to get out of there and he was turning to leave when Dan grabbed a glass. Leaning his head back, he swallowed the drink in one gulp before letting out a loud whoop.

“Fucking shit, man!” he exclaimed, swinging his head from side to side. “That stuff’s amazing!”

“Isn’t it, though?” the man agreed, holding the other glass out to Tre.

Tre wasn’t going to take it. He didn’t want it! He was backing away when Dan took the glass, drained it, and, then moving with an unnatural speed for one so drunk, lunged at Tre. Before he could sidestep him, Dan had grabbed the back of his head in his hands and leaned in to kiss him. Lights exploded in his head (Dan Wyse was fucking kissing him!) as he struggled to free himself. He had just managed to pull his lips away to take a breath when Dan spit into his mouth. He’d been holding the drink in the pouch of his cheeks and it sprayed all over Tre’s face. More than a little of it managed to get into his mouth and he’d swallowed before he could stop himself. The acrid liquid slid down, tasting like old sweat and horse piss. He gagged and fell backward, holding his knees and trying to regurgitate as much of it up as he could. 

Dan and the rest of the guys were howling with laughter and Tre felt his cheeks burn with humiliation. He couldn’t believe that Dan had done that to him! What the fuck did he think he was doing? He shook his head and tried to stand up but he felt dizzy and stumbled around, trying to catch his balance. This made his friends laugh even louder. He would have left right then if he had been able to but the world was spinning around him and it was all he could do to stay upright. Eventually, his friends had led him over to a table near the stage in front and he’d collapsed down, holding his forehead in his palms.

That had been an hour ago and Dan’s behavior had only grown more outrageous since then.

Tre felt embarrassed for his friend. No sooner than they had taken their seats than the large drag queen who was emceeing tossed a tiny red thong over to their table. They had stared at it for a moment before Dan took a deep swig of his beer and, grinning stupidly, stripped out of his clothes. Butt-naked in front of everyone, he bent over provocatively and pulled on the thong.

The crowd had gone wild but Tre had wanted to crawl under his chair. Sensing his discomfort, Dan had singled him out, teasing and flaunting and generally making Tre squirm.

“Shake it, baby, shake it!” someone yelled and Tre looked over to see Dan had jumped up on the stage and was prancing around. He had the crowd roaring. Tre felt squeamish watching his buddy dance around nearly naked but he did have to admit the guy was in good shape. A bit scrawny maybe but certainly in shape.  Tre smirked to himself when he noted the not so generous bulge in the pouch of Dan’s thong. Guess he’s hung like a white dude, he thought, feeling superior. Dan might be taller and leaner but Tre had him in one key area: Cock size.

“SHAKE IT! SHAKE IT!” Someone yelled again, louder this time. Feeding off the attention, Dan cavorted up and down the stage, thrusting his crotch lewdly with each exaggerated step.

“Alright, sugar. The shows over! Get off the stage! It’s time for the real men.”

Tre’s head swiveled and he saw the bored-looking drag queen motioning with the mic for Dan to move along. Dan, however, showed no inclination of leaving the stage. He had his back to the audience and was trying and failing miserably to twerk. Tre felt his cheeks color. Dudes just shouldn’t do that sort of thing. Especially white dudes. They just didn’t have the hips for it.

“Come on, hon. Off the stage. We’re all tired of looking at your skinny ass.” The drag queen was getting frustrated with Dan but he still refused to move. Some guys in back started to boo.

“Fuck you! I’m a porn star!” Dan protested, his voice slurred.

“Honey,” came the bored reply, “You’re no porn star. You ain’t got the right body or the equipment for that. Now come on, move along.”

Tre sighed and stood up. Clearly, Dan wasn’t going to move and none of the other guys in their party was willing to do anything. He quickly leapt onto the stage and pulled Dan off. His friend resisted but was too drunk to put up much of a fuss.

“But I am a porn star,” he was saying. “I’m a fucking porn star!”

Tre forced Dan into his chair. Dan tried to struggle back up but Tre held his hand firmly on his shoulder and his friend relented, opting instead to spread his legs and lean back. Nodding with his head meaningfully at his crotch, he taunted, “Wanna have a go, dude? I’m ready to shoot!”

Tre felt like he wanted to vomit as he saw Dan’s hardon pressing luridly against the shiny, sheer fabric of the thong. He didn’t want to know this but it was obvious that his friend was circumcised. And not much of a grower, either, by the looks of things.

He looked away, resisting the urge to box Dan between the ears but with great effort managed to keep his voice even as he replied, “Dan, I’m going to pretend this never happened. You’re drunk and making a huge ass out of yourself.”

“You’re just jealous because you’re not a big, hung porn star like me!” Dan’s eyes were bright, too bright, and his head was lolling to one side.

Tre exhaled loudly. He was losing his patience. No, he’d already lost his patience. “You are not a fucking porn star, you big idiot: You’re a skinny white boy with a tiny dick.”

Dan was about to respond when the drag queen’s mic squeaked and she announced the main act. Apparently, some gay porn star named Duke Magnum was there and guys had come from far and wide to see him perform.

“Shhh,” Dan said putting his finger unsteadily in front of his mouth and pushing Tre back toward his chair. “I gotta see this!”

Tre slumped back sullenly. The show that followed was beyond embarrassing with Dan loudly commenting on all of the strippers’ bodies, shouting out how insignificant they were compared to his prowess. When the vaunted Duke Magnum made his appearance, Dan howled with laughter and Tre had to reach over to clap his hand over his mouth. Duke was clearly past his prime or maybe he’d just had a really rough life? He had to be nearly propped up on the stage and he stumbled around awkwardly, seemingly confused. Tre shook his head, the poor guy was probably high on drugs and steroids. Shit, he looked terrible! No one else seemed to notice or care because they were all too fixated on one thing: Duke Magnum’s package. Tre gulped when he saw the enormous bulge tenting out the guy’s Speedo. The bloated outline of his member was clearly visible and left nothing to the imagination. There is no way that is real, he thought to himself. That can’t be real! Even if it were real, there was no way a cock that big could function normally. When the dude finally yanked down his Speedo, the…thing…that flopped out was beyond grotesque. Tre couldn’t look at it. He stood up and walked out of the bar.

***

Tre awoke in his clothes the next morning to the sound of someone snoring loudly beside him in bed. His mouth tasted vile and his clothes were sweaty and gross.  Eyes fluttering open, he looked around, not recognizing where he was at first. Then it hit him.

This was Dan’s room.

He was lying on Dan’s bed!

That meant that the person lying next to him on the bed was…

Tre jumped up, horrified.

But…how? 

He held his head, trying to remember what had happened the night before and realized that he only remembered leaving the bar and nothing else. How had he…?

The snoring on the bed grew louder then before cutting off into a snort. Bleary and confused, Tre looked over and noticed that Dan was lying under a big mound of covers, pillows piled over his head. There was another snort but then his friend’s breathing stopped entirely for a long time. He was getting worried when Dan gasped, body shaking under the blankets. Was it his imagination or was Dan’s breathing heavier and even more labored now?

What should he do?

His instinct was to get out of there and go home but Dan sounded so pathetic that he hesitated. What should he do? He stood there for a long time debating before he made up his mind.

“Dan, are you Ok?” he called out.

There was silence and then a moan. “Fahck, man, I think I’m sick!”

His voice was awful, gravelly and hoarse. Tre had never heard him sound like that before and he crept forward, worried.

“You’re just hungover,” he soothed, not sure whether he was trying to calm himself or Dan. “I don’t know how late you were out but you were pretty drunk by the time I left.”

There was another long pause before Dan exhaled loudly, his breath breaking off into a coughing fit. His body shook under the covers as he fought to control himself. Alarmed, Tre sat down on the side of the bed and pulled the pillow off Dan’s face.

“What the…!” he jumped back in alarm. There was a stranger in Dan’s bed! Tre backed up until he was against the wall.

The man in the bed lifted his head to stare balefully at him. “Wha…what’s wrong, dude?”

Tre stood there staring. He couldn’t talk. That, that couldn’t be Dan. Could it? It sort of looked him but this man was at least a couple of decades older.  Tre stood there, trying to catch his breath and trying to comprehend what was going on. After a long time, he realized that if he squinted hard, he could kind of recognize his friend in the puffy, grizzled face. He gaped. Dan had more than aged! His lined face was tinted almost orange with fake tan and his shaggy brown hair had a really bad bleach job. Thick stubble covered his cheeks and he sported a little retro-1990s soul patch under his unnaturally plump lips. Big gold earrings hung off his earlobes, stretching them down so far he could see through the piercing holes. His eyes were bloodshot and watery.

The man—Dan?—finally got exasperated when he didn’t respond, yelling, “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”

Even his voice sounded older, duller. Tre realized his mouth was open and he closed it with a snap. There had to be a logical explanation for this. There had to! With great effort, he managed to ask, “Uh, Dan, did you stop anywhere before heading home last night, like a tanning salon…or a piercing studio?”

Dan lifted his eyebrows and Tre noticed that they had been unevenly plucked. “Dude, I got my tan touched up before the show last night light I always do.” He reached up and felt his earlobes. “And I’ve had these piercings for more than fifteen years.”

“Fifteen…years?”

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Dan struggled for a moment before Tre blinked and moved over to position the pillows under his head. He sagged back down, breathing raggedly. “Fuck, yeah. Fifteen fucking years. Shit, I’m so fucking tired. I hate doing these fucking shows. They don’t pay for shit! And escorting’s not much better. Fuck, I really need to get that part in the big movie and make more money! I’m nearly out of cash!”

Tre didn’t respond. He was too busy staring at his friend’s exposed arms and chest, his poor brain trying to process everything he was seeing. (This can’t be Dan! It can’t! But, shit he looks so much like him! A really old version of Dan, but still he looks like him!) Dan’s shoulders were beyond wide. His biceps were so big and round that they looked almost fake. His deltoids and traps thrust out from his shoulders and were covered with faded tattoos that crept up past his neck. His skin was both papery and leathery, stretched thin with the effort of encasing his huge muscles and ruined from too many hours lying on a tanning bed.

“Sometimes it sucks being a porn star,” Dan was lamenting, completely oblivious to Tre’s shock. “Fuck, I wish I could get an office job like you.” He sighed and lifted his head off the pillow. “Can you get me my ‘roids, dude? I should have shot up this morning but I was too tired.”

“Uh, ‘roids?”

Dan motioned with his meaty hand and Tre noticed then that his friend’s ears and nose were too big and fleshy for his face. “Yeah, they’re over there.”

Tre looked around and saw a pile of syringes and little vials on the nightstand. “Dan, I don’t think…” he started to say but Dan cut him off.

“Just give me the fucking ‘roids and skip the lecture, dude! If I don’t take the juice, I don’t work. It’s as simple as that.”

Chastened, Tre fetched a packaged syringe and a little vial while Dan flipped over on his belly. When Tre padded back over to him, his friend shoved the covers down, exposing his massively muscled and tattooed back. Shit, the guy had to weigh over three hundred pounds! If this was Dan, he’d put on over a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. He’d always been so thin and lean!

“Can you dose me? I’m too tired to get up and do it myself.”

Dose him? With steroids? He couldn’t do that! It was illegal. And wrong! When he hesitated, though, Dan pushed the covers down, exposing his ass which was still encased in the tiny Speedo that Tre dimly remembered Duke Magnum had worn the night before. Hooking his thumb under the waistband, Dan pulled it down a little, exposing his ass.

And what an ass it was!

Tre goggled. Dan’s massive globes all but burst out of the top of the miniscule suit. Wait, what? Tre looked away embarrassed when he saw Dan’s distinct tan lines. His skin was unnaturally tan everywhere except for the very white outline of a thong across the top of his butt and down his crack. He would have had to tan diligently for a long time get that, Tre caught himself thinking. His back and butt had been shaved of hair but his aging skin was anything but smooth.

“Come on, jab it in there, bud,” Dan ordered, pushing his butt up further. “Just make sure you get it above the implants.”

Tre’s hand was shaking as he unwrapped the syringe and stuck it in the vial to suck up the fluid inside. Not waiting for him, Dan grabbed his wrist and guided it down to his ass, stopping when the needle gently pricked the skin at the top of his left cheek.

“There.”

Tre took a deep breath and pushed in the syringe. He noticed that Dan’s skin was stippled all over in that area with the marks of many injections. Clearly, Dan had been taking steroids for a long time.

When the syringe was empty, he pulled it out and Dan sighed. “Thanks, man. I needed that. I get jittery if I don’t shoot up in the morning.” He pulled up his suit and gave Tre a wry smile, his face crinkling. Tre couldn’t get over how much older he looked. He had to be pushing forty but it was difficult to tell because his skin was aged prematurely from tanning. He shook his head, wrapping up the syringe and discarding it in the trash.

Turning back toward the bed, he saw Dan smiling fondly up at him. His friend cleared his throat and patted the blanket next to him, saying, “Sit with me for a minute, Ok?”

Tre froze, suddenly nervous. (What about Melissa? Dan was engaged to Melissa, right? Weren’t they getting married? Or were they? Shit, he couldn’t remember!) He was trying to figure it all out but couldn’t. All he knew was that something felt wrong. Or was it?

Finally, at a beseeching look from Dan, he settled on the edge of the bed, reaching down to adjust his package.  He didn’t remember doing so, but he must have worn an extra tight pair of boxers the night before.  Shit, his crotch was pinched! He looked down at his friend, feeling weird again. 

Something felt off here. 

Yeah, something was definitely not right. Fuck, it was more than not right; it was fucking wrong in every way! He willed himself to stand up but couldn’t. He couldn’t! All he could do was sit there stiffly while Dan reached over and slipped his hand under his t-shirt to rub a rough hand up his back. He shivered. His heart was pounding. He knew he should pull away. He knew this wasn’t normal. He and Dan were friends but no more than that. They were just friends…

“You’ve been so good to me, bud,” Dan was saying, a sad smile on his face. “You don’t know how hard it is out there in the business. You don’t know how many guys have used me over the years.”

He suppressed another cough and rolled over onto his side, drawing Tre against him. He went rigid at first but then relaxed, letting Dan hold him. Dan smelled strongly of body odor and stale beer but it didn’t bother him. No, he realized with a shock, he kind of liked it.

When Dan lifted his shirt over his head, he obediently lifted his arms, letting himself be undressed. His friend’s calloused hands massaged his shoulders, gradually working their way around toward his chest. He moaned when Dan tweaked his nipples.

“Shit, I wish my nipples were that tiny again!” Dan murmured, pressing his lips against Tre’s back. “I shouldn’t have gotten mine gauged. I got fucking udders now, man.” Indeed, Tre could feel one of his thick nipple rings pressing uncomfortably into his back as Dan spoke these words. He repositioned himself and the ring flopped down.

“I really wanna fuck right now,” Dan was saying. “But I gotta take a piss. Can you help me to the bathroom?”

Tre straightened, snapping out of the drowsy lull that had overtaken him. What the fuck? Dan wasn’t his lover! Dan was straight and getting married to Melissa! Fuck, Tre was straight for that matter! Wasn’t he? He turned and met Dan’s tender gaze and felt a shiver run up his spine. Dan reached up and lifted his chin, saying, “God, I’m lucky! You’re so handsome.”

Dan struggled to get out of bed, wrapping a blanket around himself and allowing Tre to help him stand, annoyed by the way his underwear was binding his crotch. Dan towered over Tre, a huge hulk of a man. For the first time in a long time, Tre felt tiny. Dan was breathing heavily and Tre helped to move his great arm over his shoulder, letting his friend sag onto him. His knees almost buckled when Dan lowered himself down but he managed to catch himself and, together, they struggled into the bathroom.

“Man, you’re the best. I fucking love you, dude,” Dan sighed as Tre helped him over to the toilet. “I’m glad I have the night off. I really need a day or two to recover. I feel like shit after all my dick treatments and then that fucking string of live shows. If I never have to strip again, it will be too soon!”

He turned to face the toilet and let the blanket fall off his shoulders to land in a heap at his feet. Tre was poised to walk out the door but Dan stopped him.

“Hey, bro, some help here. My tool is stuck in this fucking thing.”

Tre stopped, his hand on the doorknob. Help? What the fuck did Dan want him to do? Couldn’t he piss by himself? He turned slowly and noticed that Dan was pleading with his eyes, his hands on the drawstring of his suit.

Holy fucking shit! Tre stifled a gasp as Dan slowly swiveled his hips around, exposing the profile of his package. That cannot be fucking possible! He thought, pulse pounding in his temples. He reached up and massaged his temples, feeling lightheaded.

“I know, I know. I shoulda listened to the doc and stopped after the third round of silicone,” Dan explained, lifting the corner of his mouth when he saw Tre’s expression. “But I gotta extend my career. By the time guys get to be my age, the only way to survive in the business is resort to gimmicks like this.” He flinched when his hand knocked against his crotch as he was pulling the drawstring. “Shit, it still fucking hurts!”

Tre felt like he’d turned to stone. He stood frozen for so long that Dan lost his patience, demanding, “Hey, dude! I really need your help! I can’t manage this thing on my own.”

Tre jerked, wobbling over to the toilet to stand numbly beside his friend. Dan was fumbling with the pouch of the Speedo (which had been custom made to fit his humongous package), trying vainly to extract the bloated piece of meat crammed inside. Gingerly, Tre reached out and grasped the suit, one hand on either hip, pulling it down slowly and carefully. He felt Dan tense and hold his breath as millimeter by millimeter the fabric slid down his pubes. His thong tan lines extended around to his front and Tre noted that his shaved pubes were glowing preternaturally white, the outline of the pouch etched in stark relief against his burnt skin. He felt his cheeks color.

When the base of Dan’s cock was revealed, Tre felt a sick fascination wash over him. His friend’s ridiculous appendage was bigger around than his upper arm. He stared at it, unable to make his brain take in what he was seeing. What the fuck had Dan done to himself?

Dan was staring down at himself with complicated expression on his blotchy face. As more and more of the monster between his legs was revealed, his ruddy neck flushed and he lowered his head, muttering, “Fuck. Fuck. I shoulda stopped when he told me to but I wanted the biggest cock in the business. Shit.”

Tre didn’t say anything; he was too mesmerized by the horrible yet entrancing scene unfolding before him. He pulled and pulled, slowing only when he felt Dan tense. Eventually, he had to reach back and work to get the suit down over Dan’s big bubble butt. His big friend sighed then, reaching back to massage his cheeks.

“God, these implants are killing me! I didn’t know when I got them that they would be so uncomfortable! I can’t even sit anymore without getting a sore ass!”

Tre nodded. He couldn’t believe how far his buddy’s ass jutted out behind him. He had the biggest booty he’d ever seen on a white guy. It was practically obscene. How the hell did he find pants to fit him?

With a final pull, Tre liberated Dan’s massively enhanced member and it flopped down heavily, causing Dan to yelp. He reached down and cupped the ugly giant in his hands, stroking it like a kitten. Except in this case, the misshapen appendage looked more like a lumpy, mutant maggot or an alien slug than a kitten…or a cock for that matter. Why the fuck had Dan done this to himself?

And then there were his balls. Tre’s face grew hot when he noticed that Dan’s balls were proportionally-sized to his cock which was to say that they dangled down like overly ripe grapefruit in their distended sac.

Dan caught him staring and laughed. “They’re fake just like my ass and most of my cock! I asked for the biggest pair possible and the doc stretched out my sac and stuck in a pair of double-D size breast implants. I got the biggest tits on a dick in the world!”

Tre swallowed and Dan winked at him, gently letting his cock flop down. When it eventually stopped swaying, Tre noted it was bigger around than an elephant’s trunk and stretched down more than fifteen inches. The effect of the bizarre cock and pendulous balls was striking and Tre didn’t know whether he want to throw up or go beat off.

“This is where I need you, buddy,” Dan said, placing a big hand on his shoulder. “The doc injected so much of the shit that it engulfed my dickhead. My piss can’t get out unless someone holds open my slit while I position my snake over the bowl.”

Tre nodded dumbly. Dan wasn’t exaggerating. His drooping skin was filled to bursting with the stuff the doctor had injected into his cock. Tre gulped and looked up at his friend, uncertain and not really wanting to touch it.

Dan motioned with his chin, encouraging him and Tre reached out. He’d never touched another guy’s dick before, much less one this extremely inflated and he jerked his fingers back when he made contact with the flesh. It was soft and lumpy.

“Yeah, that’s the price I paid for getting a massive dick,” Dan commented. “No more hardons for me!” He laughed uncomfortably then, adding, “I can’t do anything with it. It’s a fucking useless piece of crap now.”

Tre felt like his tongue had swollen in his mouth and he tried to swallow but couldn’t. Belatedly, he realized that his cock was straining so hard in the crotch of his jeans that he was in pain even though the overwhelming emotion he felt right then was revulsion. Why was his body turned on by this…freak in front of him? He reached down and adjusted himself surreptitiously. God, why did his jeans feel so tight? Wait, that’s weird…huh? What is that? He was feeling around to investigate when he heard Dan snort. His friend had seen him grabbing his package and figured out that he was getting turned on.

“And that’s why I had do it, bud,” he said, reaching over to cup Tre’s cheek in his big paw. “You and every other gay guy out there can’t get enough of Duke Magnum’s huge organ.”

Tre bristled at being called gay but instead of protesting, he found himself asking, “’Duke Magnum’? But you’re Dan Wyse.”

Dan shook his head. “Only to you, Tre. Only to you. I’ve been Duke for so many years now that people have forgotten who Dan is. Shit, even my own parents don’t recognize me anymore.”

Tre lowered his head with this sad news, feeling his erection deflate somewhat but the tightness in his crotch didn’t dissipate. God, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for poor Dan. But wait, part of him thought, Dan is only twenty-three years old! And he isn’t a porn star! He isn’t a porn star. Or is he? He didn’t know why but these thoughts wouldn’t stick in his head and found himself getting more and more confused. What was the truth? Who was Dan Wyse? Feeling his shoulders contract, he sighed and instead applied himself to fighting with Duke’s, er, Dan’s inflated skin in a valiant attempt to free his cockhead.

“It won’t pull back, dude,” Duke corrected him. “But you already knew that, right?” Tre stared up at him in confusion and Duke chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you help me wash it out when we shower. I just need a big enough hole for my piss to get out.”

Tre nodded then caught himself. When we shower…?  Just then he managed to fish his fingers into the tight hole of Duke’s bunched up skin and, prying mightily, pulled it apart. Duke sighed and, holding his cock with both hands, let loose a dense and fragrant stream of urine that splattered on the rim of the toilet before Tre pointed the hole downward and into the bowl. Nonetheless, he was sprayed with droplets of piss by the time Duke was finished.

“Sorry ‘bout that, bud,” the big guy said as Tre worked to mop the piss off of himself before dabbing the toilet paper around the dripping bulbous end of Duke’s member. “Let’s get cleaned up, Ok?” He leaned back and turned on the shower.

Tre straightened, captivated by the sight of his completely nude friend. Duke’s body was so overgrown with muscles that it was difficult for him to move easily. His arms stuck out to his sides and Tre briefly found himself wondering how the big man managed to wipe his ass. (I’m not doing that for him! he thought dourly.) He was covered nearly head to toe with garish tattoos of different styles and colors. He tried to see if there was a theme to the artwork but didn’t find one; apparently Duke had had himself inked randomly by a myriad of different artists. The effect was disorienting…and sort of thrilling at the same time. Tre had always hated the thought of getting a tattoo; he didn’t think they would look good on his dark skin. But on Duke Magnum…he felt his dick begin to stir again. And grimaced in pain at the strange tightness down there.

Duke’s big belly stuck out in front of him, his ab muscles clearly defined under his papery skin. It took Tre a moment to realize that this must be what a so-called ‘roid gut looked like. He’d read or heard that the fat built up under the abdominals and pushed the juicer’s stomach out. The knob of huge man’s belly button protruded and Tre saw that even that had been inked by a tattoo artist with the incongruous image of a daisy. As his gaze swept upward, his eyes were inevitably drawn to his gargantuan, drooping pecs and dangling nipples. He blinked. Shit, those pecs were almost as unbelievable as Duke’s cock and balls! He couldn’t resist reaching out to cup one in his hand, marveling at its size and heft. Duke inhaled at his touch, clearly enjoying the contact. Tre shook his head, amazed. The thick nipple rings were almost big enough to fit four fingers through. Holy shit!

“Those are real,” Duke said, clearly amused by Tre’s fascination. “The pecs, that is. The rings are metal.”

Tre laughed nervously. “Yeah, I figured that!”

“Shall we?” Duke asked, pulling the shower curtain back.

Tre stared down at his feet, suddenly shy, but he didn’t resist when Duke unfastened the top button of his jeans and fiddled with his zipper.

“Duke, I…”

“Shhh,” his buddy murmured, reaching up to put his fingers over Tre’s lips in a motion that triggered a memory from the previous night when Duke (Dan?) had done the same thing. “Just let me hold you.”

Tre’s jeans got stuck on his package (Damn his underwear!) but Duke gently worked at them and they finally slipped them down to his ankles. When his friend pulled him into his sheltering arms, Tre relaxed and savored the feeling of being held by the warm giant. His mind was a mire of confusion but his body didn’t care. He just wanted Duke to hold him. He nuzzled into the big man’s odorous armpit and smiled at the way that he had to lean over the bloated appendage jutting insistently into his stomach. Fuck, Duke’s huge cock and balls were the shit! He even liked the way his nipple rings poked into his shoulder blades.

“Let’s take this into the shower, Ok?” Duke patted him on the shoulder before pulling away, leaving Tre standing there cold and forlorn. He laughed at Tre’s expression. “Aw, c’mon, dude! We have all day to cuddle. Let’s wash up!”

Tre smiled at this and put his hands on the waistband of his boxers. He tried to pull them down but they stuck on something. Confused, he looked down at himself and gasped. What the…?

Wait.

Was that a tattoo on his belly? But he didn’t have any tattoos!

Then his eyes landed on the unnatural bulge in his crotch and he completely forgot about anything else.

No!

NO!!!

Desperately, he gaped at Duke, his face draining of color and his hands frozen on his hips. His friend was watching him with an amused expression. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Aren’t you glad I made you stop after two treatments, dude? We’d be fucked otherwise.” He paused before laughing, “Well, we wouldn’t be able to fuck at all actually. I mean, I’m a big ol’ bottom for life now. At least you can still get hard. Well, harder anyway.”

Tre’s hands began to shake uncontrollably as he peeled back the band of his boxers and looked down at himself. His once beautiful cock was now engorged almost beyond recognition! Easily more than three inches in diameter, it pointed straight down, running down his thigh. It was perfectly straight and completely rigid, frozen in a caricatured erection. To make matters worse, a huge, lurid tattoo of a devil’s face covered his entire belly, the ugly creature’s horns poked up above his hips and its gaping jaws opened above his plucked pubes (all traces of his thick pubic hair were gone!) It’s long, sinuous tongue had been tattooed in bright red down the entire length of Tre’s ruined shaft. He let the elastic go and it snapped his skin painfully. He couldn’t look at it. He felt sick. What the fuck had happened to him?

“You’re a horny little devil, aren’t you?”

Duke was laughing and Tre felt his ears get hot. Now that he was paying attention, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed the throbbing heaviness in his crotch before. Shit, it felt like his cock weighed five pounds. And his balls…

Fuck!

FUCK!!!

“Tre, stop being such a drama queen!” Duke teased, making Tre bridle. “It was your idea! I tried to talk you out of it but you insisted you wanted a cock like mine. At least you can still hide it.”

Hide it? Hide it! How the fuck could he hide the club lurking in his boxers? There was no way he would have agreed to have this done to him. No way! His cock had been plenty big enough as it was. Fuck! At nearly ten inches hard, it had already been bigger than 99% of white guys (and 50% of black guys)! How the fuck could this have happened to him?

Before he knew what was happening, Duke had reached out, grabbed him, and yanked down his boxers. Horrified, Tre stared down at himself as he saw his cock now reached nearly to his knees and his balls hung even lower. The tattooed devil leered up at him from his belly, mocking him with its slitted eyes.  His dick was swinging back and forth between his legs, as hard as a board and as thick as a pipe. Well, not exactly a pipe…The end of his shaft was swollen grotesquely into an unwieldy bulb.

Tre looked up at Duke and realized the big guy was staring at him with a hungry expression. He shook himself after a moment and exclaimed, “Shit! That’s hot. I thought you were nuts to sign up for that experimental treatment to enlarge your cockhead but it looks like it worked! When I heard that they use snake venom, I chickened out. Couldn’t risk my career! Brazilian docs don’t exactly have a great reputation for safety, ya know, but I kinda wish I’d done it now.”

All he could is stare up helplessly at his friend. He felt like he’d entered a nightmare the moment he awoke in Duke’s bed and everything was getting worse by the moment. How the fuck could this have happened to him? And why didn’t he have any memory of the procedure that had destroyed his manhood? He lowered his head and grimaced. His balls! His fucking balls were huge! And his formerly tight sac had been stretched out to the size of a large purse. Numbly, he reached down to cup his alien nuts in his hands, rolling them around, he realized they were the size of goose eggs and just as heavy. There was no sensation, though, and quickly realized that, like Duke, he had a big pair of fake nuts. Desperately, he searched around for his real balls but couldn’t find them.

“Don’t worry, Tre, they’re still in there somewhere,” Duke reassured him. “I wouldn’t let you have ‘em cut out. You wouldn’t want to have to take male hormones for the rest of your life, would you?”

Not wanting to take Duke’s word for it, Tre felt around with increasing panic until he finally located his real balls. They were tucked away and felt so tiny compared to the massive fake pair that now swung between his thighs. Still in disbelief, he picked up his cock and balls, feeling his heart race when he realized he had to use both hands to do so. He dropped them and his cock flopped straight down while his fake balls bounced around freely in his extended sac.

“Kinda weird, isn’t it, bud?” Duke had a knowing look on his face. “Welcome to my world.”

With a dawning sickness, Tre knew he would never be flaccid again. He had a permanent, fat erection. How would he ever conceal it in his suit at work? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! In shock, he started stroking it and realized that he’d lost much of the sensation. It felt clumsy and inert in his grasp. Fuck, how could he even get an erection now? Would he even be able to cum? How the fuck was he supposed to take a piss?

It was too much.

Too much.

He crumpled down, sagging onto his heels and feeling the…thing…between his legs slap painfully on the cold tile floor. He was sitting there sobbing when he heard Duke turn on the shower. Warm water droplets splashed against his skin as Duke stepped out and lifted him up gently by the shoulders. With effort, he managed to position Tre in the hot spray. He was so numb, though, and nothing that Duke said to him registered. He wanted to die. He wanted to fucking die.

Finally, Duke nibbled on his ear. Tre shivered and Duke laughed. “See? Nibbling always works with you.”

Tre scowled and wouldn’t look at him.

“Aw, c’mon, buddy. Tre. Look, unlike mine, your cock still works. You’re the perfect size for me, too. Have you seen my hole lately?” Before Tre could respond, Duke had turned around and bent over, reaching back to pull his gigantic buttocks apart. Tre blanched as he stared down at his buddy’s butthole. It was plucked smooth and…really big and wide. Instead of a little pucker, it was a long, creased line.

“Yeah,” Duke said, still bent over and trying to look at Tre from between his legs. His face was mostly covered by his huge cock and balls, though. “I’m stretched out from that string of fisting movies I did ten years ago. Shit, that’s part of the reason it’s so hard to get a part in a movie now. The studios can’t find a guy with a pole big enough for me.”

Tre just stood there, unresponsive, and Duke straightened back up, taking him back in his arms. “In fact, if you ever wanted to do a movie with me, I’m sure the studios would…”

“Stop it, Duke. Just shut up. Shut the fuck up!”

Duke leaned down and covered his mouth with a kiss as Tre fought to get away from him. Duke was too big and strong, though, and he held Tre fiercely, devouring his mouth. Tre realized his mouth tasted like morning breath but…his tongue was so soft and gentle. Duke pushed him back against the shower wall, shoving his massive bulk into him, smothering him. Tre opened his mouth wider and Duke forced all of his tongue inside. God, this was so weird! He knew that he should be repulsed. He knew that he should shove Duke away. He knew that he wasn’t…like this.

But.

He felt like he had merged with the brute. Like there was no separation between them. Like he had become part of him.

And…

Christ.

He loved it.

He fucking loved it.

He fucking loved Duke Magnum!

Holy fucking shit! He was in love with…a guy! A really big guy. The biggest guy ever!

Duke finally tugged him back to a standing position and massaged his massive hands over Tre’s butt cheeks. Tre moaned and pushed his butt out further so that Duke could take all of him in his grasp. Duke had such big hands! Duke tickled his butthole before leaning against Tre’s neck and kissing him tenderly. “You’re so adorable! I loved you the moment I saw you, Tre Jackson. I know that I have a reputation for being a chocolate lover but it’s so much more than the color of your beautiful skin that attracted me to you.” He giggled, an incongruous sound from such a hulking man, adding, “Of course, the fact that you’re black doesn’t hurt.”

Tre’s head was spinning. He felt delirious and freaked out and touched at the same time. “But what about your clients?” he asked finally, his mind turning to Duke’s career. “And the movies?”

Duke pulled back. “I…still have to get fucked by those guys, Tre,” he said solemnly. “I…have to make money somehow. For as long as people will pay,” he paused, motioning down to his huge, greatly distorted body, “for this. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but my heart is with you only.”

Tre swallowed, blinking back tears. Everything was moving so fast. Everything had changed so fast. He didn’t know what to think or what to do anymore. Shit, he didn’t know himself anymore! Who was he? Who was Duke? And what had happened to the Dan he knew? It was a lot to grapple with.

Realizing that Duke was watching him closely, he looked up. “I could take care of you. I could support you.”

“Oh, Tre,” Duke whispered. “My Tre. That’s so sweet! You already are taking care of me. More than you know. I…wouldn’t be able to do it without you. We’re a team, right?”

Tre nodded. Yeah, they were a team. A really bizarre, fucked up team. But a team nonetheless.

“Now, for Chrissake, can we wash up so you can stretch out my hole with that big, fat cock?”

***

“You Ok, buddy?”

Tre looked up. He was holding his huge, new cock, retracting his voluminous foreskin and exposing the lopsided bulb that had once been a normal-sized cockhead but which now more resembled a lumpy, purple ball. He couldn’t stop staring at it. It didn’t look real. It couldn’t be real. But, shit, it felt real. And sex had been fucking incredible! The reduced sensitivity of his cock meant that he and Duke had even longer to work on getting each other off, extending both the foreplay and the ass play. Shit, he felt like he’d worn out Duke’s hole after their last session! Who knew that fucking a guy in the butt could be this much fun? He smiled at the memory. Good thing that Duke had those custom-sized condoms!

“Earth to Tre, earth to Tre.”

Giving Duke a sly smirk, he leaned over and kissed him. He savored the bigger man’s full, juicy lips and fat tongue. God, Duke was so sexy!

They made out for a long time, rolling around on top of each other. Tre loved it when Duke settled his massive bulk on him, slowly lowering himself down and pressing against Tre until he had trouble breathing. Duke was straddling him, his bloated monster lying like a sleeping giant on Tre’s chest. He was reaching back, was guiding Tre’s cock toward his ass when Tre stopped him.

“Hey, Duke,” he asked coyly. “Will you inject me with steroids?”

Duke pulled back, shocked. “What? No way!”

“Aw, come on, big boy,” Tre teased seductively, batting his lashes, “I wanna get big and strong like you. I wanna be just like you.”

“You do not want to be like me, Tre,” Duke replied vehemently. “I’m a fucking porn star freak whose best days are behind him.”

Tre shook his head. “Uh uh. You’re a big, hot daddy who makes me horny as shit. I want you to help me out. I wanna be a star like you.”

Duke was staring at him, searching his face. When he realized that Tre was serious, he swallowed. “What happened to you? An hour ago you were mad as shit at me, acting like I’d forced you to get that procedure and now you want to be just like me!”

“Uh huh, that’s right. I’m a new man thanks to you. I wanna be just like you in every way.”

Duke sighed. “You don’t mean that. Shit! You really don’t mean that!”

Tre propped himself up on his elbows and lifted Duke’s magnificently bloated cock before dropping it. It landed heavily, making a loud smacking sound as it hit Tre’s chest. Duke shivered. Tre lifted his tool and started jacking him with both hands, causing his lover to moan loudly. Finally, Duke made him stop, grabbing him by the wrists.

“Make me like you,” Tre pleaded. “Show me the ropes. We could shoot a movie together!”

“Oh, we’ll definitely shoot together. A lot,” Duke said wryly before sobering again. “But, Tre, you have a good job! You make five times what I make even at the best of times! You can’t want what I have. You can’t.”

Tre wasn’t listening. He didn’t care about money. Who cared about money anyway? All he wanted was to be a big star like Duke. A big fuckin’ porn star! Shit, once the studios saw his huge, new tool, they’d be all over him. He was going to be a fucking star!

He smiled and started jacking Duke again, rubbing his hands harder and harder, up and down, up and down, until Duke’s skin got hot from the friction. Duke screamed and his whole body shook uncontrollably. A thick stream of cum trickled out of his monster cock as he collapsed on top of Tre, breathing heavily.

“Shit, shit. That’s number five today. Fuck you know how to work a cock!”

Tre nodded. “Yeah, now get up and shoot me full of ‘roids, you big dumb asshole. I’m ready to be your porn star bitch.”

***

ONE YEAR LATER…

Tre looked up and smiled cynically to himself when he saw his replacement enter the office, followed closely by his supervisor. He could tell that the guy was a classic white, hetero male, oozing self-confidence and acting like he fucking owned the place. Tre couldn’t believe that his supervisor, Sharon, had hired some white dude to replace him! Shit, the company was getting whiter and whiter every day! He was glad that he was leaving. He couldn’t wait to relocate with Duke to LA so he could devote himself full-time to his porn career.

The new guy and his supervisor headed over to Tre’s cubicle and Sharon cleared her throat, Luke briefly taking in the layout before his eyes landed on Tre. Tre gave him credit, his eyes only briefly widened before he caught himself and schooled his features.

“Tre, this is Luke Fitzgerald,” Sharon announced, smiling broadly. “I told him that you generously offered to train him before you leave the company in a couple of weeks.”

“Sup, dude,” Luke said in a deep voice, extending his hand.

Tre stood up and shook it, secretly proud that with his greatly enhanced bulk, he dwarfed the dude. He’d put on nearly a hundred pounds of muscle in the past year, so much that he’d needed to see a specialist to help conceal the stretch marks on his pecs, butt, and thighs.

He smiled broadly, smirking inwardly, as he watched Luke take in Tre’s appearance. The big red spiraling neck tattoos and horns tattooed on his scalp had been the final straw. Sharon had called him into her office and informed him that it was time for him to move along. They were prepared, she told him flatly, to offer him a generous severance if he agreed to leave the company after they found a replacement. They would pay him even more if he agreed to stay on and train the new person since they didn’t have anyone else on hand with his superior analysis skills.

Tre hadn’t cared. He was over the stupid job anyway. Besides, after the success of his last movie, his agent had been clamoring for him to move out to LA. He had a career to attend to. He was a star. A fucking porn star!

Sharon left and Luke’s friendly facade quickly vanished. He made a point of sitting as far from Tre as possible. This didn’t bother Tre in the slightest. In fact, he took delight in pushing the straight dude’s buttons. He’d worn his tightest pair of khakis that day, the ones that accentuated every bulge, especially the most important one. The thick, long outline of his unnaturally enhanced cock was clearly visible when he spread his legs.

“So, Luke,” he said, pulling out from his desk and swiveling his chair to face his replacement, “Let’s get started with the basics, Ok?” He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, flexing, while he casually opened his thighs and thrust his crotch ever so slightly upward.

Luke’s lip curled and he looked away but not before Tre saw his cheeks color slightly. God, how he loved teasing the straight boys!

The rest of the morning was strained with Luke growing increasingly uncomfortable and Tre feeling ever more potent. He was sure that Luke was going to run to Sharon at lunchtime and complain but he didn’t. In fact, he surprised Tre by inviting him to lunch.

“My treat, big guy,” he said, forcing a smile. “I wanna hear the dirt on the company and we can’t talk about that stuff here.”

“Sure,” Tre said, brightening a little. “How about Casey’s?”

Luke blanched. “Isn’t that a…” he caught himself. Casey’s was a well known diner in the gay district a few blocks away. Swallowing, he shook his head, “Yeah, Ok. I’m game. Casey’s it is.” Tre smiled. Luke had just edged up a notch.

They walked down to the diner, Luke waiting patiently as Tre labored along. As much as he loved having huge muscles, they made walking a pain. He was sweating before they’d gone two blocks and had to stop to catch his breath.

“Don’t you, uh, get tired of being so big,” Luke asked, leaning against a lamppost and folding his arms as Tre stood there, chest heaving.

“Fuck, no!” Tre exclaimed. “Dude, being big is totally awesome. I love my muscles.”

Luke didn’t comment. Instead, he continued, “Sharon said you’re leaving to pursue an acting career…”

“Fuck, yeah! That’s right.”

There was a slight pause. Then, “What sort of acting career?”

“Gay porn.” Tre turned to stare directly at Luke as he said it. The other man looked away, unable to hold his gaze. 

“Uh, that’s interesting,” Luke said, visibly squirming. “How, uh, did you get into that?”

“You’re awfully curious, Fitzgerald,” Tre commented. “You looking to make a break?”

Luke flushed crimson and abruptly started walking. Tre waddled along behind him, feeling a little bad for teasing him. When they got to the diner, his coworker didn’t wait for him before going in and gave him a cold look when he stood in line next him to wait for their table. He stiffened but didn’t pull away when Tre placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, Luke. I’m sorry. I know you were just making small talk.”

Luke turned to him, his eyes hard. “It’s Ok, really. I’m sorry I asked.”

He turned and ignored Tre until the host led them to their table.

Lunch was restrained at first but Luke surprised Tre again by ordering a beer right away. He downed it quickly and ordered another. The dude probably has to get a buzz on in order to tolerate sitting with a big homo in a gay diner, Tre thought cynically.

If that were the case, it worked because Luke was far more relaxed after the second beer, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to expose a very hairy chest. Tre evaluated the dude critically, realizing that Luke Fitzgerald was quite handsome. He was probably in his late twenties and had the body of a hockey player: Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, brawny, and heavy-featured. He had a scar on his cheek and forehead and his nose looked like it had been broken and not set correctly. The net effect was greater than the sum of his parts: Luke emanated a steely sort of confidence and masculinity that almost seemed old fashioned in these days of genderbending hipsters. Tre was idly curious to learn how a man who looked like a construction worker had landed a job as a data analyst for a financial institution.

“So, dude, where do you work out?” Luke queried after he was well into his second beer.

Tre’s brow wrinkled. What an odd question! “Um, at the downtown Y.”

Luke nodded. “Me, too. Christ, you must lift like a motherfucker with guns like that. How long you been at it?”

“A little over a year.”

“Huh? Only a year!” Luke’s brown eyes got round. “How did you get so big that fast?”

Tre’s mouth quirked. “Steroids.”

“No shit! Really?”

Tre nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Luke ran a hand through this thick brown hair, messing up his careful styling. Tre realized, though, that he looked better mussed up. Yeah, Luke was definitely a guy who looked best frayed around the edges.

There was a long pause before Luke smiled almost bashfully. “Yeah, it is. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were juicing. I just have never had anyone be so upfront about it. Where do you get your ‘roids?”

Tre raised an eyebrow. “A buddy of mine gets ‘em for me. He has a reliable source.”

“Would he share?”

Tre stopped and stared. “You wanna juice? Why?”

Luke looked to the side, uncomfortable. “I, uh, I mean, I just wanna get bigger, ya know? I feel like I’ve plateaued. I really just wanna put on another ten or twenty pounds of muscle and regular supplements just aren’t working.”

Tre blinked, still a little taken aback. Finally, he nodded his head, saying. “Yeah, I get it.” He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “They are pretty fucking awesome. I mean, the acne, bitch tits, and rages are not as big a deal as they say. I’ve been able to handle it and I’m on a huge dose.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Luke breathed, excitement making his cheeks glow. “That’s fucking awesome! You gotta hook me up with your dude.”

“Oh, my dude would love to hook up with you alright,” Tre murmured, smirking when he realized this comment went completely over Luke’s head. “How about we meet up at the Y tonight, do some lifting, and then I’ll take you to meet my guy.”

Luke could barely restrain himself as he replied, “Shit, that’d be totally fucking awesome, dude! I can’t wait!”

Tre raised his glass in a mock toast, savoring the look of feverish intensity on Luke’s face. So, his replacement was a ‘roid bitch waiting to blossom. This would be fun…

***

Luke was wearing baggy shorts and big cotton t-shirt when Tre met up with him on the weight room floor. Tre rolled his eyes. Straight dudes were so predictable.

But.

Here was something not so expected: Luke had thick, black tribal tattoo sleeves on both arms, running nearly down to his wrists. Shit, the dude was into inking, too! This was getting interesting!

“Yo, man, ‘sup?” Luke called out, pacing over to grasp his forearm in a dude handshake. 

Tre smiled at him, feeling proud of the way he dwarfed the other man. A year ago, he would have been intimidated by Luke’s size but not now. No, now he was the undisputed alpha and he savored the way that, despite his swagger, Luke telegraphed his submission by ducking his head and slouching his shoulders. Fuck, it was awesome being a muscle god!

“Nice sleeves, man!” Tre commented, holding the handshake a little too long. Luke didn’t seem to mind, though, and returned the grip.

Luke lowered his head and smiled. “Mine are nothin’ compared to yours! What are those? Snakes?”

Tre pulled up the tight sleeves of his black UnderArmor shirt to show off the huge, red cobras twining down his arms. He was really proud of his tats and took every opportunity to show them off. Luke surprised him by reaching out and tracing the outline of one of the snakes before glancing down at Tre’s legs.

His eyes popped as he burst out, “Fucking shit, man! I fucking love the devil’s tail!”

“Yeah, it’s cool, isn’t,” Tre agreed, looking down to admire the long tattooed tail that threaded around his thigh and calf to end with a sharp point near his ankle. Luke couldn’t see this but the tattoo started right above his ass and wound around his steroidally-enhanced left buttock, accenting its immensity. “My buddy who’s my ‘roid supplier suggested it,” Tre continued. “It, um, matches another tattoo I have.”

Luke looked up, face intent. “Really? What is it? Can I see?”

“Uh, well, it’s a…Aw, shit, I’ll have to show you in the locker room, dude,” Tre stammered, neck growing hot. “It’s not exactly someplace I can uncover in public.”

“Roger that,” Luke replied before adding, “But I wanna see it, Ok? No chickening out.”

What the fuck is up with this dude? Tre thought as he nodded his head. “Alright…but you asked for it.”

They lifted hard and furiously until they were pouring with sweat and completely spent. Luke tried his best to outdo Tre but ultimately failed. After a while, he dropped his competitive edge and was simply awed by Tre’s brute strength. Mouth hanging open, he marveled at Tre’s ability to bench over four hundred pounds, easily pounding out ten reps and managing three sets with ease.

“Fuck, dude! You’re a fucking beast!” he said, goggling. “I’d fucking do anything to lift like you!”

Tre smiled back at him, reaching down to adjust his shorts. His massive cock tended to flop down his leg when he strained and his shorts weren’t that long. He kept having to tug them down to cover his bulbous cockhead. He noticed Luke’s gaze drifting down to his crotch and this only added to his feeling of superiority. Yeah, straight boy, let’s see how much you’re packin’, Ok? I’ll bet you got a tiny nub in those baggy shorts.

Distracted, he shook himself and realized Luke was still waiting for him to answer. He lowered his voice, “Yeah, well, you’ll be able to knock out the presses when you’re juicing. You won’t believe what a difference it makes!”

Luke nodded, breathing hard. “Fuck, man! I can’t fucking wait!” He paused before adding eagerly, “Wanna get a shower and head out to meet your buddy?”

“Sure, whatever, dude. We got plenty of time. He won’t be off for another hour yet.”

***

Luke surprised Tre yet again by stripping off his workout clothes as soon as they got into the locker room, seeming to enjoy the attention he got for being naked. The Y was popular gym with the local gay population and easily more than half of the men in there were homos. Tre watched the envious and admiring stares cast in the guy’s direction and shook his head. They had every right to stare: Luke Fitzgerald was a stud with a body that wouldn’t quit. And Tre had been wrong; the dude was pretty hung for a white guy. The fat, circumcised cock dangling between his thighs was probably a good five inches or more. Reaching down to scratch himself, Tre enjoyed the way Luke’s cock swayed back and forth against his low-hanging balls. It was kind of refreshing, too, to see a guy who didn’t manscape; the dense, black hair covering Luke’s body was completely untrimmed. Yeah, Luke was pretty studly. For a straight dude at least.

Tre didn’t feel like displaying himself right then and did his best to undress unobtrusively. Sometimes he got tired of being the center of attention in the locker room and most days skipped it entirely. He was cultivating his brand, after all, and needed to control exposure. If guys wanted the full experience of Tre Jackson, they had to pay for it just like the rest of his clients. He had managed to build a decent escort business with Duke’s help and counted on good reviews from his customers to build his reputation. You didn’t get a good rep by giving your goods away…

Wrapping his extra large towel around his waist, he padded into the showers with Luke in tow. His coworker took up position in the stall directly across from him and left the curtain wide open. Why is he acting so weird? Tre wondered. Was he trying to convince Tre that he wasn’t an uptight straight dude? He was reaching to close his own curtain when Luke whistled at him.

“Leave it open, dude! I wanna see your tattoos!” he called out in an overly loud voice.

Tre wrinkled his brow. Well, he thought, he asked for it!  Shrugging, he dropped his towel and grinned evilly at his new friend.

The look on Luke’s face was priceless as he took in the sight of Tre’s unbelievably huge cock and balls, set off by the sinister grinning devil tattoo on his crotch. He looked down at himself and wiggled his hips, making his monster bob back and forth. Glancing up, he was startled to see that Luke’s initial shock had been replaced by an avid stare: His eyes were glued to Tre’s cock.

When it came down to it, Tre thought philosophically, all guys were fixated on cock regardless of their sexual orientation. Apparently, he had just succeeded in wowing the shit out of Luke Fitzgerald.

***

Luke was silent the whole way to the Devil’s Club. He wasn’t upset or uncomfortable, though, rather he seemed almost shellshocked. He walked unsteadily next to Tre, bumping into him occasionally. Finally, when they were within sight of the club, Tre stopped and turned to him.

“You Ok, dude?”

Luke took a few more steps before realizing that Tre had stopped. He was backlit by a streetlamp but even so Tre could see the haunted expression on his face.

“Naw, I’m good.”

“Really? You seem pretty freaked out.”

Luke swallowed and hung his head for a moment before raising it again to fix Tre with a baleful stare. “I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry.”

He’s a lousy liar, Tre thought. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? We don’t have to meet up with Duke. In fact, it might be better if you thought this over.”

Luke’s pained response was immediate. “What! No! Are you shitting me? I wanna meet him. I wanna get big!”

Tre watched bemused as Luke started moving again. Acting almost like he was possessed, he broke into a run, only stopping when he reached the glowing red entrance to the club. He turned and motioned urgently for Tre to follow him.

Tre didn’t follow, though. At least not right away. Something in Luke’s voice reminded Tre of himself not so long ago and he paused for a moment, contemplating something he’d never thought about. He’d been similarly eager to start taking steroids and had badgered Duke to inject him.

But.

He’d never really stopped to think it over. Wasn’t it kind of strange that after going his whole life without taking steroids, he’d suddenly become obsessed with it overnight? And what about his relationship with Duke? He shook his head, trying to clear it. For some reason, it was really hard to remember anything before last year. It was like he and Duke had always been a pair and that being porn stars and muscle freaks had always been their dream. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t been in love with Duke.

He froze, that last thought blazing through his mind.

Shit! He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t been in love with Duke!

Fuck, what had he done before he met Duke?

Who the fuck was Duke anyway?

For that matter, who the fuck was Tre Jackson?

Who had he been before he met Duke?

Increasingly alarmed, Tre realized that he didn’t know the answer to any of these questions. He was about to turn on his heel and get the hell away from there when Luke, tired of waiting, ran up and grabbed him, marching him forcefully into the club. Tre stopped and swallowed as the heavy door swung shut with a deep clang behind him. When he looked up, he saw a vaguely familiar blond-haired guy standing in the entry, holding a tray of drinks. It was just like that night a year ago when he and Dan and the rest of the guys had shown up to celebrate Dan’s impending nuptials.

Just like it.

“Free drinks!” Luke was saying happily as he reached out to take one of the glasses.

The blond guy pulled the tray away before he could take one, though, laughing at Luke’s disappointment. “Oh, no! Not for you Luke Fitzgerald. I have a special concoction that I’ve prepared just for you!”

“How’d he know my name?” Luke asked dumbly as the man disappeared behind the counter. 

Tre couldn’t answer. He was paralyzed. All he could do was watch helplessly as the man returned carrying a smoking, vermillion drink and holding it out to Luke.

Greedily, Luke reached out to take it and the blond guy smirked, saying, “Bottoms up, Lucky Luke!”

Tre watched Luke lift the drink and toss it back with one gulp, rubbing the back of his hand across his face and throwing the glass down on the floor. It shattered, showering their feet with shards of glass.

“Fuckin’ A, man! That shit’s da bomb!”

“Quite,” the man agreed. “Now, go on backstage and get ready for your show, Lucky.” He patted the big man on the butt and turned to Trem, whispering, “You’ll need to show him the ropes, Ok? Kids are always a little disoriented on their first night.”

***

Part 4

Trevor looked up and scowled as the new guy, Lucky, entered the dressing room.

Oh, great. My next conquest, he thought acerbically. Brian sure has a thing for the big, buff ones.  Lucky was tall, hairy, muscular, and butch. Or at least he was right now.

Not for long, though.

Poor bastard had no idea what was coming. Fucking shit! Trevor hated this fucking job! Why, why, why was he forced to watch Brian Valen’s perverted fantasies acted out as the club owner’s toxic cocktails warped a new, hapless guy every night? Worse, it was sick how Brian expected him, Trevor O’Connell–A straight guy!–to bang away on stage each night at these guys after Brian’s potion had transformed them into twisted gay caricatures. He tossed down his towel and shrugged his shoulders into his bathrobe, vowing like he did every night to quit.

But this time was different.

Yeah, it was long past time that he quit this fucking job!

Squaring his shoulders, he decided he was going to march down to Brian’s office right then and tender his resignation. This was the last fucking straw!

“Get the fuck out of my way!” he snarled at the clueless Lucky, reaching out to grab the door handle.

Then it happened.

Like it happened every night.

His hand went weak as he touched the knob and he lost all resolve. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t make himself open the door. He fought and fought inside but couldn’t make himself move. He was trapped.

He hadn’t left the club in nearly a year when he’d been lured in there by that asshole, Tre Jackson. Tre Jackson! Trevor scowled. Tre was one of Brian’s ‘hunters’ and Trevor hated him. Yes, he hated him even though he knew that Tre was just as trapped as he was in some ways.

At least Tre could leave the club.

For Trevor, the Devil’s Club had become his prison, his living hell, his private torture chamber. And there was no escape. There were no bars and no locks but he was powerless to leave. He was so thoroughly under Brian’s control that he couldn’t so much as a take a piss without the guy’s permission. It was sick and wrong and fucking illegal. But there was nothing he could do. He’d tried everything. Everything! Still, he was trapped. Trapped! He leaned his forehead against the door and sighed, shoulders shaking.

Behind him, he heard the new guy clear his throat.

“Ha boy, how’s the lad?”

The weird question seemed to even surprise Lucky because he clapped his mouth shut almost as soon as he opened it, a confused expression on his face.

Trevor raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t reply. ‘How’s the lad?’ What the fuck does that mean? He shook his head. Fucking Brian Valens! He hated this! Hated it! Every night it was the same thing: Some big, macho stud waltzed in, completely oblivious to the effects that Brian’s potion was having on his body and his…sexual orientation. And Trevor was supposed to play along like everything was normal. Well, it wasn’t normal and he wasn’t going to play along anymore.

Pulling the belt on his robe tighter, he yelled, “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Just get ready for the show!”

He turned his back to Lucky and slouched down in his chair, pulling out his phone to check Facebook, hoping against hope that Tina hadn’t forgotten him. That maybe she was still thinking about him. That she didn’t believe the stories. That she…

What? WHAT? WHAAAT!!!??!!!

There was a notification. Tina’s status had changed to, ‘In a relationship with Bill Taylor.’

Bill Taylor!

Fucking Bill Taylor!

How the fuck could his best friend do this to him?! Tina was in a relationship with his best friend! His former best friend, that is.

Trevor’s shoulders started to shake again. He fought and fought and fought. He was not going to break down! No, he was not going to fucking break down and start crying like some stupid pussy faggot. He was a fucking man! He was a fucking man even if he did fuck guys up the ass every night. Every though it had over a year since he had fucked a chick. Even if…

He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

Brian Valens was not going to win.

Setting his jaw, he promised himself that he was going to strangle the shit out of the club owner that night. Yes, he didn’t care what happened to him. He was going to fucking choke the living shit out of Brian! He was…

…surprised to see that the new guy was scowling at him. Belatedly, Trevor realized that the dude had been talking to him but he’d been too preoccupied with Tina’s status change on Facebook to notice.

“Well, if ya can’t say howya,” the guy was saying in his odd accent, “I’ll knack yer ballix in!” He marched over to Trevor belligerently, nostrils flaring and hands balling up into fists.

Trevor’s mouth set in a tight line. This was too much. Lucky had no idea that he was playing with fire here. He had no idea how close to losing it Trevor had been even before he’d stepped into the dressing room. He had no clue how defeated, fed up, and humiliated Trevor was, that Trevor was looking for any excuse to transfer all of his pent up hatred and rage onto another convenient target.

And now Tina had left him. Even Tina had abandoned him.

Trevor couldn’t help it. He launched himself out of his chair at Lucky. As he rounded on him, Lucky puffed himself up, standing up on the balls of his feet and raising his fists in a way that would have been menacing if it weren’t for the perplexed expression on his face.

A perplexed expression…

God, Lucky’s eyes were so big, so brown, so…

With great effort, Trevor held back, managing to restrain himself before he punched the guy. A calm voice in the back of his head was warning him, Remember, he doesn’t know what is happening to him! He doesn’t know Brian’s potion is changing him. You have to take it easy on the poor guy. Trevor pulled up short, breathing heavily. Lucky’s face was awash with confusion even as his body language was overtly aggressive.

Trevor set his jaw. He’d seen this look almost every night for the past year. It was the same look all of the new guys got when the curse first set in, before they forgot who they were and became warped to the fate that Brian had chosen for them. The look would disappear soon enough, though, and Lucky would succumb. Soon, he would forget who he had been before and turn into a stupid drone, convinced the stupid life that Brian had picked out for him was really his own. He would just be another idiot fly caught in Brian’s ointment.

In some ways, Trevor envied Lucky. At least Lucky would forget. Trevor was doomed to remember. His own curse was worse than anything this new guy would endure: In addition to not being able to forget his previous life as a free man, Trevor was cursed to stay straight in his mind but not in body. No, even though he was solely attracted to women, he could only get turned on by men now. The curse ensured that he was unable to resist the sight of a man’s bare ass, especially when it was presented to him on stage. Yeah, on stage he lost all control and became… Well, he really didn’t want to think about it. It would be happening to him again before long. Fuck, Brian had ruined his life!

Lucky was oblivious to Trevor’s conflict and seemed to take his silence as an affront as the bewilderment slowly drained away and was replaced with a building pugnacity. He puffed himself up and started feinting at him with his fists.

“Look,” Trevor began, trying mightily to maintain his rapidly fraying sympathy. His voice was lost in his throat, though, as he noticed the changes. Shit, the curse was really working fast on the guy! Brian wasn’t wasting any time on this one! Lucky’s facial features shifted as Trevor stared at him. His face had been long and bearded but it was now compressing, becoming rounder, and his jaw was thrusting out. The guy’s beard thinned and his brown hair darkened to black. Trevor blinked and noticed that Lucky’s skin seemed paler as his tan faded and there was just a trace of stubble on his cheeks. He was at least three inches shorter than just a minute ago.

The effect was disconcerting and Trevor unconsciously took a step back. Even though Lucky now appeared to be only in his early twenties and was easily five inches shorter than Trevor, there was an unsavory roughness about him.

“Go’on,” Lucky muttered ominously. “Go sling yer hook, mate.”

Yeah, the confusion of only moments ago was gone now and Lucky had slipped completely into his new persona. God, Brian had one crazy imagination! Trevor had never seen one of the guys transform in this way before. He swallowed, feeling his heartbeat in his chest. What was that accent anyway? Scottish? Irish? He was about to take another step back when he caught himself. Wait a minute, Trevor! Don’t let the bastard intimidate you! He’s just a fucking kid! Sure, he’s a big, broad-shouldered, muscly kid but he’s no match for you. Put him in his place!

He forced himself to take a step forward. Lucky thrust his jaw out and his face got hard as Trevor ordered, “Get your fucking costume on, asshole, and leave me the fuck alone.” He pointed to the door next to Lucky’s changing area where Brian’s assistant had recently hung the guy’s uniform for the night’s performance.

Lucky looked like he was seriously contemplating punching Trevor when his eyes slid over to the door and his face lit up.

“Would ya get outta that garden!” he exclaimed before pacing over to grab the hanger.

Trevor watched him, uncertain whether to be amused or disturbed. He hadn’t paid much attention when the assistant delivered the costume but now he saw that it was a uniform of some sort. Lucky lovingly pulled the outfit off the hanger to admire it. The costume consisted of a green short-sleeved jersey with red arm stripes and a red slash across the front. The word Elvery’s was emblazoned in the center of the jersey and there were a small pair of white shorts with a badge stitched on the thigh. Was it a soccer uniform?

“Holy feck!” Lucky shouted as a little piece of fabric slipped out and fell on the floor. Bending over, he picked it up, inspecting it; it was a little green and red jockstrap. His face crinkled into a sly grin as he commented, “Oi, a fuckin’ Mayo nuthugger!”

Trevor shook his head and then cleared his throat uncomfortably as Lucky stripped out of his t-shirt and shorts to pull on the jockstrap. In a moment, he was parading around the room, laughing like a drunkard and shaking his package salaciously. Trevor felt his cheeks color when he took in the tattoos on the guy’s body. He was quite certain that Lucky hadn’t had those when he entered the dressing room five minutes ago.

Sensing Trevor’s discomfort, Lucky came to a stop in front of him and thrust his crotch forward provocatively. His muscles, particularly his thighs and calves, began to swell as he stood there and soon even Trevor had to admit that he possessed a killer set of legs. Trevor shifted, unwillingly mesmerized by the way the guy’s body hair all but disappeared until there was just a light dusting on his legs and a narrow treasure trail leading down to the pouch of his jock. His torso was thickening and hardening such that soon Lucky bore little resemblance to the big man who had walked in the room. He was a compact stud with a bull neck and a prize set of thighs.

Rugby or soccer player? Trevor wondered idly, trying to divine the nature of Brian’s curse. He didn’t know much about either sport but Lucky seemed to be an amalgam of both kinds of player:  Too robust for soccer but not quite beefy enough for rugby.

Curious, he asked, “Lucky, who do you think you are anyway?”

The guy gave him an incredulous look. “Ya gipe! A Mayo footballer I am!”

“Mayo? Where’s that?”

Lucky’s mouth dropped and he shook his head. “County Mayo, Ireland, you fuckin’ culchie!”

Ah, Ireland! Trevor thought, smiling in spite of himself. Well, that explains the rude tattoo on his belly. “Irish Curse” was spelled out in bold Celtic lettering along with a stylized arrow pointing down to the dude’s crotch. Trevor briefly wondered what the Irish curse was. From the very slight bulge in Lucky’s jock, he guessed it had something to do with his small manhood.

He was about to say something about the tattoo when the door to their dressing room flew open and a bunch of guys burst in. They were dressed in the same green and red uniform that Lucky was holding. Lucky shouted loudly, raising his beefy arms into the air and strutting proudly as the guys ran up to him. They chattered loudly, clapping him on the back and punching him on the arm. In a moment, Lucky had pulled on his jersey and shorts and was standing proudly surrounded by this new group of men. His…teammates?

Trevor watched the scene unfold with confusion as the guys suddenly grew silent and, crossing their arms, turned to face him with challenging and unfriendly expressions on their square-jawed faces. He was pulling his robe tighter around himself and taking a step back when a second boisterous group of men jogged into the room. Unlike the first group, though, these men were dressed in blue jerseys and black shorts. The guys on Lucky’s side jeered loudly and made rude noises as they entered but Trevor didn’t have time to notice. The big guys were tearing off his bathrobe and manhandling him over to his chair where in seconds they’d dressed him in a blue and black kit. He sat back bemused as one of the men stuffed long blue socks on his feet before tying on a pair of black cleats. The guys slapped him hard on the shoulders and tugged him up, turning to face the green and red team menacingly.

“So,” Lucky was saying in his odd accent, “Ya think yer a fuggin’ Jackeen now? Prepare to have yer scaldy ring kicked in!”

Trevor had no idea what that meant but judging from the loud chorus of jeers this elicited from Lucky’s teammates, he guessed it wasn’t very polite. His own team answered with a roar that echoed off the walls and threatened to bring down the ceiling. Lucky stepped up and beat his chest, snarling at Trevor, as someone tossed a heavy white ball at him. Catching it deftly, he raised his lip at Trevor.

“Now we’ll sort you out! On the pitch, boys!”

Trevor had to hold back the guys on his team as Lucky and his crew stormed out of the room. The whole evening had taken a surreal turn…well, more surreal than usual anyway. Prior to this, Trevor would have sworn that he’d seen just about everything that Brian could throw at him but this was something new. He turned to the guys–his team?–surrounding him and shivered. Their expressions were avid and hungry, the sort of faces you see on a crowd of men looking for bloodsport.

They  thrust him out in front of them and gave a thundering cheer as they charged out of the room, fast on the heels of Lucky’s team.

***

They jogged down the narrow corridor to the stage. The door was wide open but, bewilderingly, rather than emerging on the raised platform of the stage, they ran out onto a big field drenched in bright lights. The crowd in the stands on either side roared as Trevor and his teammates took up positions opposite the green and red team headed by Lucky.

This…can’t be real, Trevor thought, feeling disoriented and excited at the same time. It had to be one of Brian’s tricks. But…

He was free! He was fucking free!

The club was gone. Like a bad dream that faded away at the first touch of the morning sun, he was finally free. He threw his arms up in the air and yelled, a sound of pure joy and reckless abandon. He had no idea how or why he’d landed on the mysterious soccer pitch but he didn’t care. He was free!

The referee approached and tossed a coin in the air as Trevor and Lucky stood glaring at each other. Trevor called it correctly and the ref tossed him the ball. The game was on and the match that followed was the weirdest experience of Trevor’s life. He had no idea what the rules were or even how to play but somehow it didn’t matter. His body took over and left his mind behind to figure things out from the sidelines.

Soon, he was thoroughly lost in game. It was a rough and tumble affair with plenty of tussling, wrestling, dirty tricks, and hard hits. Everyone was bruised and scraped within minutes of the first whistle and the teams grew increasingly aggressive as the match wore on. The green team lacked the tactical strength of Trevor’s team but they made up for it with their speed and agility. The blue team had the ball most often but lost it repeatedly to the greens. Neither team had scored as the end of the second half neared and the sense of urgency built to a frenzy as the clock ran down.

Trevor’s legs were sore and his chest was heaving as he stormed down the field with only ten seconds left. Motioning urgently, he caught a pass from his teammate and dropped it on the field. Incredibly, he was wide open and no one from Lucky’s side was anywhere near him. He had plenty of time to set up his shot and breathed deeply as he kicked it with all of his might up and over the goal post of the Mayo team. The crowd went berserk as the final buzzer went off cementing their victory. Before he could catch his breath, though, Trevor was slung unceremoniously up on the shoulders of his teammates. He laughed at first as they slapped him hard on the ass and jostled him but began to struggle when they tugged at his clothing, eventually managing to strip off his shorts and jersey despite his resistance. When he was down to just his cleats and jock, they deposited him on the field, naked and vulnerable as the green team closed in on him.

Swinging his head around to gape back at his team, he saw they had formed a semicircle several meters behind him and were standing with their feet spread wide and arms crossed, huge grins creasing their faces. The greens surrounded Trevor, faces filled with contempt. A couple of them even spat in his face as he quailed before the band of rough men. They were a hulking and rowdy bunch! He tried to retreat but someone put a heavy hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Sweat trickled down his back as the team parted and Lucky marched up to shake a finger at Trevor.

“Bastard! I outta bate the beef a ye!” he cried, eyes flashing and cheeks ruddy. Spittle flew out of his mouth, spraying Trevor.

Trevor wiped off his face and tried again to take a tentative step backward, holding up his hands as Lucky wound up for a punch.

Before he could strike, though, his green teammates inexplicably grabbed Lucky and wrestled him to the ground. Trevor stared on in confusion as he heard the unmistakable sound of cloth tearing over Lucky’s indignant protests. By the time the greens relented and stepped back, Lucky was as naked as Trevor, his pale skin scratched and bruised and his jock pulled down to his knees. They stood there, breathing hard and staring at each other in shock.

The stadium grew quiet and the crowd rose to their feet, waiting for what would happen next. The eerie silence stretched as the teams faced each other, leering. In the silence, Lucky reached up to rub an angry scratch on his belly. Trevor’s eyes followed the movement and widened when he saw his adversary’s little dick. It was rock hard and pointing right at him! Lucky seemed to be become aware of his arousal at the same moment and his neck went scarlet. He was reaching down to cover himself when two guys on his team stepped forward and took him by the arms, forcibly turning him around and shoving him down on his hands and knees in the thick grass of the pitch.

“Ay, unhand me boys!” Lucky squawked, struggling to free himself.

It was no use.

Time stopped and Trevor’s world narrowed down to the bare ass in front of him. He licked his lips as he took in the sight of Lucky’s outspread thighs and meaty butt, his little brown pucker winking at him from the crease of his hairy cheeks. Trevor shook his head, appreciating Brian’s sense of humor in formulating the poor guy’s curse: A green, orange, and white flag was tattooed on the small of his back with bold words proclaiming, “Fuck me, I’m Irish.” Two big shamrocks were inked on his butt cheeks. Trevor grinned as he felt his cock pressing against his cup and the familiar compulsion of his own personal curse took hold. In a moment, he had yanked down his jock and was swaggering up behind his rival to grab him by the hips.

“Fucking arse bandit! Knob jockey! Manky git!” Lucky screamed as Trevor’s big tool pushed against his virgin hole.

Trevor smirked and slapped him hard on the ass. Lucky howled and Trevor slapped him again as he  gathered a huge wad of spit in his mouth,  leaning over to let it slide out of his lips and land with a loud splat on Lucky’s quivering rosebud.

Lucky screamed as Trevor’s throbbing cock pushed inside him.

***

“Where do you suppose they think they are?” Duke asked, leaning back in his chair to take a long swig of beer. Tre sat next to him, frozen with disgust at the scene unfolding on the stage in front of them.

“Oh, I imagine they believe they’re on an Irish football pitch somewhere,” Brian replied, smiling. “I’ve had a thing for Gaelic footballers ever since I visited Ireland a few years ago. They’re so beefy and rude!”

Tre swallowed, willing himself to look away from the grotesque rape on the stage. Trevor had subjugated the unfortunate Lucky (Luke?) and his huge balls were slapping loudly against Lucky’s taint as the poor guy whimpered in humiliation and pain. Lucky had transformed so much that he was now unrecognizable as Luke Fitzpatrick. Brian’s cocktail had really done a number on him! He looked like he’d lost a half foot in height, all of his muscles condensing around his thighs and ass. His brown hair was now black and clipped short on his rounder head. His lower jaw thrust forward, making him appear more than a little like a bulldog. The overall effect was brutal: Lucky looked like a tattooed thug. His voice and tone were a mockery of Irish slang. Tre shook his head, feeling horrible. What had he done?

***

“You Ok?”

Lucky looked up at him from the bed, his eyes red-rimmed and tired. Trevor felt his heart clench. Even though he knew that it was the curse working through him, he still felt like a sick bastard every time he raped another guy’s asshole. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to gently smooth the hair on his victim’s forehead. Lucky cringed and moved his head away. When Trevor persisted, though, he relented and allowed the bigger man to cup his cheek in his hand.

“Holy shite, my arsehole is in flitters,” he moaned, leaning back to rub his butt.

“I…I’m sorry, Lucky.”

The younger man’s eyes were shining as he cast Trevor a sidelong glance. “I know it.”

“You do?”

“Ya, I’m a sooskin fer losin’ in the first place but I’d a dun the same to you if you’d lost.”

Trevor felt his lips curve in a little smile. “I have no idea what you’re saying half the time but I think I got that.”

The look of disbelief on Lucky’s face was eloquent as he sputtered, “Feck, and ya call yerself an Irishman!”

“Not really.” Trevor shook his head, adding, “My grandfather was from there but I’m Irish in name only. My family is mostly German.”

“That explains the size o’ yer willy. Jaysus!” Lucky rubbed his butt again and stuck his lower lip out in a mock pout.

Trevor laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty b…” he started to say when Lucky surprised him by flopping over onto his back. He was naked under the sheets and the outline of his stiff cock was clearly visible underneath. He made a little gurgling sound as Lucky caught his hand and moved it down, passing it over his taut torso before sliding it under the sheets. He let it linger over his engorged penis as Trevor’s fingers twitched. Lucky’s cock pulsed.

“You’ve had yer fun, ya bogger,” Lucky breathed, moving the sheets back and exposing his little erection. “Now it’s my turn!”

He had Trevor’s head in his hands and was pushing him down toward his cock before the bigger man could react. Lucky paused for a moment as Trevor’s lips hovered over his member before he gave a final thrust. Trevor’s mouth opened and his lips closed around his shaft.

“Fuck, yeah! Suck it, ya gom!”

His cock was salty and moist in Trevor’s mouth. He could have bit down, could have resisted, but he didn’t. While he detested sucking cock, he realized that he owed Lucky something after getting off in his ass and he pulled back long enough to retract the guy’s foreskin and then flicked his tongue over Lucky’s glans, tickling him. The young guy gasped with pleasure and quickly built to orgasm, filling Trevor’s mouth with spunk.

He wanted to vomit as Lucky’s hips bucked forward and his jizz splattered the back of his throat but he made himself swallow. God, he hated drinking cum! Guys tasted so bitter compared to women. Ugh.

Lucky kept his hands on his head for a long time and his cock was soft by the time he let go. Trevor sat up unsteadily.

“Well,” Lucky asked, face crinkling in a broad smile. “How was it?”

Wiping his chin, Trevor glowered at him for a moment before replying in a sarcastic voice, “Why, it’s magically delicious!”