Chapter 1

Terrell Springer fucking hated Grand Rapids. Sitting at his desk in the office suite he shared with fellow sales rep, Dennis Agema, he was reminded of this for the thousandth time. The dude simply would not shut up. Worse, he prattled on about the most inane topics–his young wife, Jenny, being a particular favorite–while Terrell ground his teeth and tried to ignore him. Dennis Agema, Terrell decided then, was one of the most whitebread dudes in a city filled with whitebread dudes. I left Detroit for this? he thought, rubbing his temples. Jesus but the white folks here are completely vapid!

When he’d accepted the position last summer after graduating from business school, he’d thought he’d had it made. It was a fresh start for him; a place that he could prove himself and call his own. As a city, Grand Rapids felt refreshing. It was far prettier and cleaner than Detroit, possessing a small downtown with a delightful waterfront. The economy was vibrant and his new company was welcoming.

The problem was that beneath the cosmopolitan veneer lurked a closed-minded religiosity. It was subtle but it made Terrell uneasy. His friends had tried to warn him that the city’s history was tied to the strict Christian Reformed Church but he’d waved off their concerns. Only after he’d been at his new job for a few weeks did he understand what he’d gotten himself into.

People in Grand Rapids were too friendly, too cleancut, too pure. For the first time in his life, he found himself missing Detroit’s grit and attitude, not to mention its vices. He was one of only a handful of his coworkers who drank alcohol. He almost felt guilty for ordering a beer when he was hanging out after work. And every time he visited the coffee machine at work, he swore he could feel the disapproving stares of his fellow staff members. Apparently, even caffeine was frowned upon as an addictive drug.

And then there was the racism. It was barely perceptible but undeniable. He felt like he was under scrutiny whenever he walked alone downtown and he’d been pulled over three times in three months by the police. Each time he’d been let go without a ticket but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. This bias even showed up in his sales goals; no matter how hard he tried to charm his clients, he still struggled to clinch the sales deals that pretty whiteboy, Dennis, won with ease. He couldn’t know for sure but he suspected at least part of the reason was the color of his skin and the sound of his voice…

“…and I haven’t touched pop or coffee since. Can you believe it?”

When the silence stretched, Terrell looked up from his desk and realized Dennis was waiting for a response. He shook himself, saying, “Uh…wow! That’s amazing, bro!”

Dennis beamed with pride and Terrell found himself reluctantly admitting that the dude was pretty handsome. Clearly of Dutch descent, Dennis Agema possessed the cleft chin and angular features of a male model. He was blond and clean-shaven and, if the contours of his body under his starched and pressed dress shirt weren’t lying, he was also lean and ripped. His hair was trimmed short on the sides and swept back on top, an enviably dense head of hair for a white guy. Yeah, Dennis was definitely hot. Too bad he was straight as an arrow and completely boring.

Terrell stifled a yawn. “I guess I didn’t realize you had a caffeine habit, man. I’ve never seen you drink coffee or, um…pop, for that matter.”

Dennis nodded, lowering his voice to a whisper as if he feared being overheard. “I was a closet addict! I would sneak in a cup of coffee on my way to work and then drink at least one can of Diet Coke at lunch. I was terrible!”

Terrell had to fight not to roll his eyes. Somehow, though, he kept his tone serious as he replied, “That is terrible! It’s really great that you’re on the wagon now. Or is that off the wagon?” He shook his head soberly. “I can never remember.”

Dennis fixed him with wide, guileless, green eyes. “I think it’s ‘on the wagon’ but that only applies to drinking alcohol and I would never do that!”

“Of course not.” Terrell was turning back to his laptop when he found himself asking, “And how did you manage to kick your wicked caffeine habit?”

Dennis blinked. “I was just telling you that! I went to see a hypnotist and he was amazing!”

“Oh, yeah. That’s interesting. I didn’t think that sh–, I mean, that stuff actually worked.” Terrell shook his head at himself for almost cursing in front of Dennis. That was yet another taboo thing around the office. No one ever cussed!

“Oh, it works alright!” Dennis chirped, standing up from his desk and heading toward the door. “I’m living proof! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an appointment with a new client.”

He was turning to leave when a slip of paper fell out of his pocket. Terrell opened his mouth to tell him but Dennis was already out the door. Curious, Terrell got up from his desk and picked it up, discovering that it was the business card for Dennis’ hypnotist. He started to place it on the guy’s desk when he noticed two words scrawled on the back.

“‘Voracious Violets’,” he pronounced, wrinkling his brow. “Huh. I wonder what that means?”

He put the card on Dennis desk, resolving to ask him about it later, and went back to work. He forgot about the card until the next morning when Dennis showed up–bright and cheery as ever–with a water bottle in hand. He held it before him like a trophy, clearly proud of himself for not sullying his body with evil caffeine.

Turning to Terrell, he called out, “Hiya, Terry!”

Terrell grimaced. He hated it when people shortened his name, something that happened frequently in Grand Rapids. It was as if people were uncomfortable with his real name because it sounded too black.

“How’s it hang–I mean, going, Denny?” There, he thought with a little smirk. Two can play at this game.

Dennis stopped. “‘Denny’? Hmmm, I like it! No one’s ever called me that before!”

Terrell groaned inwardly, thinking, Jesus Christ but this guy is the personification of a golden retriever! 

A silly grin on his face, Dennis placed his water bottle and briefcase on his desk. He was dressed in a grey suit, something he only wore when he was going to clinch a deal. Terrell groaned inwardly. Dennis would win the top salesperson prize again this month if he kept this up. It wasn’t fair! Terrell would do anything to enjoy the success that Dennis had without even halfway trying. If only there was some way to level the playing field…

At that moment, both Dennis and Terrell’s gaze landed on the hypnotist’s business card, still lying on the desk. Dennis reached out and slipped it in his pocket as Terrell remembered to ask him about the weird phrase on the back.

“Hey, Denny?”

“Yeah?”

“What does ‘voracious violets’ mean?”

The weirdest thing happened. As soon as he uttered the words, Dennis stood rigidly at attention, head erect and gaze fixed straight ahead. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes went blank.

Terrell shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Uh, Denny? You Ok?”

No response.

He got up from his desk and walked over to him, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Their office was only semi private with a window that looked out on the intern cubicles and Terrell worried that people would notice Dennis standing like that and think something was wrong. He stood in front of him, blocking the interns’ view and whispered, “C’mon, man! Snap out of it! What’s wrong? All I did was ask you what ‘voracious violets’ means!”

Instantly, Dennis relaxed and his eyes focused on Terrell’s face. “Hey, Terry! What’s up?”

Terrell’s mouth fell open and he took a step backward. Holding up his hands, he said, “Nothing! Nothing! I was just worried about ya, that’s all!”

A brilliant smile crossed over Dennis’ face. “You were worried about me? Really?”

Terrell looked away, shuffling back to his desk. “Yeah, I was worried. You feeling Ok?”

“I’ve never felt better! Especially now that I’m off caffeine!”

“That’s good, man. That’s good.”

Dennis shook his head and turned on his computer, whistling cheerfully to himself as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Beside him, Terrell tried to focus on his work. As hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t stop wondering what the fuck was going on with Dennis.

***

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that the words ‘voracious violets’ were the trigger that Dennis’ hypnotist used to place him into a trance. He didn’t know very much about hypnosis but he guessed that a trigger phrase would have to be words that would normally never be spoken in real life. Coming up with an odd phrase like ‘voracious violets’ would be perfect for this. He decided to test his hypothesis at lunchtime while Dennis munched on baby carrots at his desk.

“Voracious violets.”

Dennis froze, mouth frozen mid-munch. His eyes became glassy and he stared vacantly ahead. Terrell was incredulous. It really was the trigger! This was too good to be true!

“Dennis, touch the top of your head.”

Instantly, his coworker placed his hand on top of his head.

“Pick yer nose.”

Dennis lifted his other hand and inserted his index finger in his nose, probing around with gusto. Terrell grimaced with disgust.

“Ok, stop picking yer nose.”

When his hand dropped, an evil grin spread across Terrell’s face. This is fuckin’ fun! He still couldn’t believe the trigger was real but after giving Dennis a series of commands and watching him execute them flawlessly, he was becoming convinced. He would have kept going for a lot longer if he didn’t have a meeting scheduled and reluctantly decided to release his coworker from the spell.

“Voracious violets.”

Dennis resumed eating his carrots and scrolling through Instagram on his phone, apparently none the wiser after emerging from his trance. Terrell grinned. He couldn’t wait to get back and pick up where they’d left off. Life at the company and in Grand Rapids had just gotten a lot more fun!

***

Chapter 2

Terrell’s conscience bothered him the whole time he was away at his meeting. He felt bad for taking advantage of Dennis and making him do those things while in a trance. Dennis might be boring and whitebread but he’d always treated Terrell well and didn’t appear to have a malicious bone in his body. He vowed that he would never again utter the trigger phrase. Dennis deserved better!

He returned to the office after hours and was surprised to find Dennis still working at his desk. Terrell halted in the shadows just outside the door and watched him. His coworker was working diligently, a pen stuck behind his ear. His mouth moved as he read the words on the screen of his laptop, a trait that Terrell had always found endearing…and sexy. Yes, there was no denying that as much as he envied Dennis, he also found him incredibly attractive. Who wouldn’t? Dennis possessed the kind of male beauty that Terrell (and practically everyone else in the world) had been indoctrinated to find attractive. The bittersweet truth was that he found Dennis almost as hot as he was exasperating. It wasn’t fair!

Terrell hesitated in the doorway. He started to take a step and then stopped when a thought dawned on him. The office was silent. Everyone had left for the night. It would be several hours before the cleaning staff arrived. Terrell and Dennis were alone.

All alone.

Voracious violets.

Voracious violets.

Voracious violets.

The phrase repeated itself in his head. He looked down, keenly aware that his cock was hardening in his boxers. All he had to do was say the words and Dennis would do whatever he wanted. Just two words. Just two words…

Don’t do it, Terrell! Stop! This isn’t right!

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room, stating calmly, “Voracious violets.”

Just as he had before, Dennis froze. Sitting bolt upright in his chair, his jaw fell open and his eyes grew unfocused. He was staring straight at Terrell but Terrell knew he was blind to him. Dennis was in a trance.

“Take off all of your clothes.”

Obediently, Dennis stood up from his desk and started unfastening his tie. Terrell’s heart pounded against his ribcage and his cock grew furiously erect in his slacks as Dennis unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he started unbuckling his belt. When he dropped his trousers, Terrell guffawed at the pair of tighty whities the dude was wearing underneath. (OMG! I didn’t think they made those anymore!) He didn’t have long to gawk, though, because Dennis was already kicking off his patent leather shoes and pulling off his socks. Soon, he’d stepped out of his pants and yanked down his underwear.

Terrell goggled.

Dennis Agema was hung.

Like a fucking horse!

Jesus, he’s big even by black guy standards! He might even be bigger than I am!

Terrell stood there, massaging his crotch through his pants, and staring at Dennis’ naked body. He had been right about his coworker, the dude was really ripped. An avid runner, Dennis didn’t appear to possess even a trace of body fat. He was tall and lean with narrow hips and slim, sleek legs. He shaved his body hair but Terrell guessed that he probably barely had any to begin with. A lot of blond guys were like that, smooth and nearly hairless.

“Turn around.”

Dennis duly turned around, exposing his tiny, pert bottom. It was quite adorable even if Terrell preferred guys with more ample backsides. His wide shoulders tapered down to the tiniest waist imaginable with two distinct dimples at the top of his butt. A moan escaped Terrell’s mouth before he could stop himself.

Fucking shit but Dennis was hot!

Terrell unzipped his pants and tugged open the fly of his boxers. His hard, dripping cock sprang out and he grabbed it in his hand, jacking himself.

“Turn around and jack yourself.”

Dennis’ big, floppy cock was already hardening when he slowly spun around. Unlike Terrell, he was circumcised, something Terrell had learned to expect here in Grand Rapids. It seemed that foreskins were held in as much contempt as caffeine and alcohol. Still, Dennis’ long, fat pole was impressive even if it lacked a skin and soon Terrell was treated to its full glory. Dennis stood there, slowly and methodically jacking his monster until it was so hard it glistened an angry red.

The two guys came almost in unison, shooting jizz across the room at each other like two gunfighters in an old western movie. Terrell’s cum splattered Dennis’ chest and Dennis’ hit Terrell across the face. It trickled down his chin and Terrell’s tongue darted out, tasting the salty/sour tang that was all Dennis.

As the warm glow of his orgasm faded, Terrell’s elation faded with it and he began to feel guilty. What the fuck have I done?! This isn’t right! I could get in so much trouble! And poor Dennis! He doesn’t deserve this! As loud as the voice of bitter recrimination inside his head was, it wasn’t enough to stop him from walking up to Dennis and whispering in his ear.

“Dennis, you will buy a whole new wardrobe. A very flamboyant wardrobe designed to show off your hot bod. You got it?”

Mute as ever, Dennis nodded. His eyes were glassy, staring straight ahead.

“And yer gonna start lifting weights. Lots of weights. All the time. You will become obsessed with gaining muscle, especially in yer ass. Understand?”

Another nod.

Terrell smiled, thinking, This is gonna be fun!

“Good. Now clean up and get dressed.”

Dennis dropped his softening cock and duly reached down to grab his clothes. Terrell waited until he was fully dressed before leaving the room. When he was standing in the shadows out of eyesight, he pronounced, “Voracious violets.”

He peeked around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Dennis hard at work again at his desk, dress shirt stained with cum.

***

Chapter 3

The next morning, Dennis strolled into the office with a gym bag over his shoulder and a protein shake in hand. Terrell did a double take when he looked up at him, sputtering, “Holy shee-it! Would ya look at you?” Dennis frowned slightly at this use of profanity but beamed with pride when Terrell added, “Yer lookin’ pretty fly for a white guy, as they say.”

Dennis looked down, grinning from ear to ear. “Thanks, Terry. I felt like I needed to spice up my wardrobe. It was getting dull.”

Terrell leaned back in his chair, surveying him. Dennis had really taken his suggestion to heart, although his idea of flamboyant was pretty retro, harkening back to fashions in the 1990’s. He was wearing a sleek pair of black leather pants tailor-made for his slim build. Gone was his stodgy oxford and in its place was a long-sleeved, pink satin shirt. He wore it untucked and it tapered at the waist, accentuating his narrow hips. Even more daringly, he had left the top four buttons of the shirt unbuttoned, exposing his hairless chest. When he turned to the side, Terrell got a good peek at one of his nipples.

His new look had an instant effect on Terrell and he repositioned his rapidly hardening cock down the leg of his pants. He had to bite his tongue to keep from uttering the trigger phrase to get Dennis to strip naked right then and there. Instead, he swallowed and cleared his throat, asking innocently, “So, you hit the gym this morning, huh? Go for a run?”

Dennis dismissed this with a snort. “No, I gave up on running. I’m a weightlifter now. I hired a personal trainer and have started a new regimen. I’m going to work out twice a day from now on!”

“Kewl. Yer gonna be swole like a badass before ya know it!”

“Uh, yeah. I guess,” Dennis murmured, raising a quizzical eyebrow at this turn of phrase. “I mean, I could stand to put on some muscle. Jenny has been complaining about my small butt. I intend to really focus on building my glutes. I gotta please my wife, you know!”

And yer coworker, Terrell thought, cock twitching painfully. Outwardly, he appeared calm but inwardly he was dancing around with glee. The trigger had really worked! Dennis was doing his bidding! It was almost too amazing to believe. Still, he couldn’t afford to be too obvious about his control over Dennis. The dude might be a clueless but he wasn’t stupid. Terrell would need to be secretive and stealthy if he was going to get the most out of this serendipitous situation. Giving Dennis a final onceover, he forced his attention back to his presentation. There would be time to drool over Dennis later…

***

The next few weeks passed by quickly as Terrell all but forgot about his hold over Dennis. Work was partly to blame; he was determined to hit his sales goals and worked overtime to nurture his budding business relationships. The other reason was he began dating Justin, a guy he met on Tinder. Soon, he was spending every moment of spare time with him and Dennis sort of faded into the background.

It wasn’t like he forgot about him, though. His coworker went out of his way to befriend him, even inviting him to join his friends at the YMCA down the street for lunchtime basketball games. Terrell complied even though he suspected his race had something to do with the reason Dennis invited him. After all, everyone knew that black people were good at basketball, right? Still, he would have been crazy to miss out on an opportunity to ogle Dennis’s naked body in the showers after the game!

Dennis continued to lift weights religiously and seemed to put on more muscle every day, filling up his already skintight clothing very provocatively. It was almost as distracting as the women who kept stopping by their office to flirt with him. Apparently, his new look appealed almost as much to women as it did to gay men. Of course, there were no other gay men in the office (besides Terrell who wasn’t exactly out to his coworkers) so this meant that a steady stream of females visited Dennis on the flimsiest of pretexts. 

It was both endearing and a little exasperating that Dennis didn’t seem to get that his coworkers were flirting with him. He greeted each new visitor with his usual wide-eyed guilelessness, prattling on about his weight training regimen while the women batted their eyelashes and cooed. Terrell did his best to ignore them, putting on his headphones and focusing on his work. After a few days, he realized that Dennis wasn’t pretending; he really had no idea why he was suddenly so popular with the ladies.

If the women in the workplace were enamoured of Dennis’ transformation, the guys were less so. Their supervisor, Harold Haskins, was particularly put off by his flamboyant attire, making no bones about the fact that he preferred Dennis to dress more conservatively.

“If you keep dressing like that,” he warned at their weekly sales meeting, “you’re going to lose clients, Agema. Terry is already gaining on you. Do you want to lose your position as top salesman?”

Terrell was opening his mouth to correct him about his name when Dennis jumped in, saying, “I don’t care. I like the way I’m dressed.”

Haskins glowered at him. “Keep losing ground like you are, kid, and yer gonna be looking for another job.” With that, he stalked out of the room, leaving Terrell and Dennis sitting in startled silence.

“You don’t think I’m dressing unprofessionally, do you, Terrell?”

Terrell looked over at him, noticing for the first time that Dennis’ pecs were almost bursting out of his orange cardigan. The sweater clung to his body like a second skin, making it abundantly clear how much bigger his chest had become. And his nipples…well, let’s just say they could almost cut glass the way they protruded from the snug fabric. Clearly, Dennis’s weightlifting was paying dividends!

Realizing he was staring, Terrell shook himself, stammering, “Um, no! Not at all! Yer lookin’ good, man! Don’t change a thing!”

There was that smile again! Somehow, when Dennis smiled, Terrell forgot about everything else and wanted only to continue basking in his warm regard. It was one of Dennis’ best features and another reason why it was hard to completely dislike him. Sure, he might be an over-privileged white boy but there was no denying his allure. It just felt good to be around him!

***

Terrell was almost beginning to get used to life in Grand Rapids when his new boyfriend, Justin, dumped him. Or, more precisely, he ghosted him just before they were scheduled to go to Dennis and his wife’s holiday party. Terrell had been planning to introduce Justin to Dennis, thereby coming out at the same time. He’d been slowly working up his courage to come out to his coworker and figured that Dennis would have to be gracious in front of his guests.

When Justin caught wind of this plan, though, he rebelled, telling Terrell in no uncertain terms that this was a coward’s way out. >>If ur going 2 come out 2 him, do it b4 the party w/o me there<< he texted. Terrell immediately called him but Justin wouldn’t answer. When he tried calling him again, Justin blocked him. Despite repeated attempts, Terrell was unable to reach him. By the evening, he realized that he’d been dumped.

In hindsight, there had been plenty of warning signs. Justin was always pushing him to be more open about his sexuality. Unlike Terrell, he came from a progressive family who supported his homosexuality. When they were out on dates, it irritated him that Terrell wouldn’t touch him and acted like they were just friends. He had grown increasingly annoyed with Terrell over the past month and apparently this had been the last straw.

Terrell was devastated. He felt like he’d been learning to be more openly gay and it hurt and angered him that Justin didn’t give him credit. After all, not everyone was lucky enough to have such supportive friends and family members. And it wasn’t exactly easy being gay in Grand Rapids. If only Justin had been more patient!

He would have bowed out of the party if Dennis hadn’t texted him and asked him when he was coming. When he fired off a terse reply (>>Not coming.<<), Dennis immediately called him. Terrell considered letting the call go to his voicemail but he picked up after a few rings.

“You have to come, Terry!” Dennis pleaded. “Jenny can’t wait to meet you! And I told the guys from our basketball team you’ll be there…”

Terrell frowned. He hated the effect that Dennis had on him. No one else got him going quite like Dennis, not even Justin. Just talking to him got his cock hard. It wasn’t fair that a straight, white guy could do this!

In the end, he consented to come to the party. Dennis’ little whoop of delight brought a brief smile to his face, although he kicked himself after he hung up. He really didn’t feel like socializing that evening!

***

Dennis and Jenny lived in a little suburb outside of Grand Rapids in a white 1950’s ranch house. Terrell rolled his eyes when he drove up the snowy street and parked in front. The place was festooned with Christmas lights. There was even an illuminated creche in the front yard. Dennis never talked about religion but Terrell had always assumed the guy was pretty religious. Seeing the outside of his house confirmed this suspicion.

Inside, the place was like a Mid-century modern theme park decked out in over-the-top Christmas decorations. A giant fir tree took up most of the living room and a wreath of cedar garlands hung over the mantle of the fireplace where orange flames crackled pleasantly. Terrell stood there in stunned silence, taking in the decor. It wasn’t exactly his style but he couldn’t help feeling a stab of envy. Dennis lived in a really nice home!

“I’m so glad you made it, Terry!”

He heard the tinkling of little bells and looked over, jumping with surprise when he saw Dennis coming at him with open arms. “Jesus, man!” he exclaimed. “What’re you wearing?”

Dennis halted, looking down at himself questioningly. “It’s my Santa’s elf costume, Terry! Do you like it?”

Terrell’s mouth fell open. Dennis was clad in a green, knit cap with a tassel and bell on the end and a green doublet with gold piping. His blond hair peeked adorably out from under the cap and his green eyes sparkled with mirth. On his feet, he wore a pair of green slippers with curled toes and more bells. So far, so good as far as elf costumes went. The thing that really captured Terrell’s attention, though, was the pair of green hose stretched over Dennis’ lower half.

They were so tight they appeared to be almost painted on.

Making matters worse (or better, depending on your perspective), Dennis’ doublet was cut very short, ending just above the waist and thereby affording an unrestricted view of his crotch. His giant bulge protruded from the tights, making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath the tights for support. The ridge of his glans pressed luridly against the nearly transparent fabric, telegraphing for all who cared to look that he was circumcised. This elf had a very full package that was ready to burst out of its holiday wrapping!

The words, ‘Don we now our gay apparel,’ repeated in Terrell’s mind as he recovered from his surprise long enough to sputter, “I-I-I mean, sure. Yeah, it’s cool, man. A super cool outfit.”

Dennis beamed and launched himself at Terrell. Soon, Terrell was wrapped in an embrace so tight, it made his head swim…and had a rather more carnal effect on his groin. He squirmed, feeling every part of Dennis–Every part!–pressing against him. His nostrils filled with the guy’s gingerbread-scented cologne and his arms folded around those delightfully pumped back muscles.

Cock stiffening in his pants, he patted Dennis’ back before gently pushing him away. “Uh, merry Christmas, man.”

Dennis’ face split into a beguiling grin (God, he was so handsome!) and he invited, “Come into the kitchen! Our church group just got here and we’re going to sing carols.”

With that he bounded away, giving Terrell a mouthwatering view of his big, bouncy buttocks. The tights rode up his ass crack, clinging to those bubbling globes and leaving nothing to the imagination. The material was so sleek and smooth and Dennis’ ass was so big and blocky that Terrell’s cock was full attention in no time. He took a deep breath to steady himself and was glad he’d chosen to wear a pair of baggy pants that hid his erection. Jesus but the dude’s glute workouts were really paying off! Dennis might not be thicc like a black dude but his ass was definitely substantial.

He quickly forgot about Dennis’ backside as soon as they entered the kitchen. A veritable sea of white faces swiveled in his direction as soon as they entered and Terrell quickly forgot about that amazing ass. Even though he was becoming more accustomed to being the only black guy in the room since moving to Grand Rapids, he still felt anxious and he hung back uncomfortably while Dennis introduced him. Suddenly the center of attention, he was keenly aware of being under scrutiny. For some reason, the attention brought back the painful ache of being dumped by Justin and he felt like a double impostor. Not only was he not white, he wasn’t heterosexual. Fuck, he wasn’t even particularly religious! The bitter taste of bile rose in his throat as he feigned polite interest and tried to remember the names of Dennis’ friends.

Jenny, Dennis’ wife, was a tall, blonde woman dressed in a Santa’s elf costume that was considerably more demure than her husband’s. She was friendly and welcoming but somehow this only made him feel worse. He found himself smiling and nodding, doing his best to be a gracious guest, but inwardly he was squirming. When the members of Dennis’ church group lined up and started singing Christmas carols, he wished desperately he could get the fuck out of there. He didn’t care if Dennis started dancing naked on the table, he couldn’t stand it! Everything about the evening felt cloying and too sweet like the non-alcoholic eggnog everyone was sipping. 

The ridiculous holiday sweaters. 

The artificially cheerful singing. 

The pine and citrus potpourri. 

The over-the-top decorations that seemed like something out of a nightmarish Thomas Kinkade painting.

It was all too much.

But there was something else, too.

Terrell couldn’t quite put his finger on it but his feelings of unease and resentment grew increasingly stronger as the evening progressed. He finally figured it out when a bunch of the guys from the YMCA basketball team arrived…with their wives: He was the only single person there. It wasn’t enough that he was the only black guy or the only gay guy. No, he had to be the only person without a partner as well!

Everyone was coupled.

Everyone but him.

This realization hit him like a sucker punch and he had to steady himself on the fireplace mantle as Sammie, one of the younger members of the basketball team, droned on about the Detroit Lions. Terrell nodded his head as if he were listening but his attention had been wrested away by the curdling in his stomach and he didn’t hear a word.

He looked out over the assembled crowd of happy, white, heterosexual, married couples and clenched his jaw. Rather than holiday spirit, he felt nothing but contempt and resentment. He hated them all. Everything single one of them.

But most especially he hated Dennis Agema.

Turning, he saw Dennis regaling his friends with a story about his time as a missionary in Haiti, helping the poor, unfortunate black people. Jenny hung on his arm and stared up at him adoringly. His friends laughed. One of them even reached out and slapped him fondly on the shoulder.

Terrell’s eyes narrowed.

He saw red.

At that moment, Dennis became the focus of all of his pent up hurt, anger, hatred, and rage. It was too much for him to contain. He had to do something about it.

He had to make him pay.

***

“Voracious violets.”

Dennis’ eyes went blank and his arms fell to his side. Terrell shoved him out of the hallway and into the master bedroom, locking the door behind them. He looked around the room and sneered at the perfectly white coverlet, red and green pillow cases, and artfully draped Christmas afghan. The bed was huge but the room was even bigger, a true master suite. An enormous picture window offered a view of snow drifts and evergreens twinkling with blue lights. A fake deer was poised on the edge of the yard, antlers glinting in the soft light.

Baring his teeth, Terrell dismissed the room from his mind and turned toward the hapless Dennis. Grabbing him by the lapels of his doublet, he rent it open in one swift, violent motion, sending gold buttons flying across the room. He didn’t waste time admiring Dennis’ bare chest; his hands were already reaching out for those ridiculous tights and soon they joined the shreds of the doublet on the floor. His coworker stood there completely butt-naked, staring blankly straight ahead with his arms hanging at his sides like an automaton. 

Terrell looked him up and down. 

“You got quite the bod.”

Silence.

Dennis’ chest rose and fell. His shapely pecs hung out in front of him, shaved clean of hair, and his perky nipples stood at attention in the cool air. His belly and washboard abs were likewise smooth. His ghostly pale, fat cock swayed slowly back and forth as Terrell licked his lips.

Outside the bedroom, he could hear laughter and clinking glasses. Rather than making him nervous, though, it aroused him and his cock hardened in his pants. He shivered as he felt his glans slide away from his foreskin and caress the cotton of his boxers. Taking his time, he pulled his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his fly, shimmying out of his pants. When he was finally naked, he stood before Dennis, his big, dark cock so fully engorged it pointed up at the ceiling.

“Look at my cock.”

Dennis’ eyes lowered until he was staring at Terrell’s erection.

“From now on, you will only crave cock. No more pussy. No more fucking your wife. You’ll be limp as shit whenever you try. But cock will be on your mind all day, every day. Cock. Cock. Cock. Got it?”

Dennis nodded.

“Good. Now get up on the bed and show me yer asshole.”

Dennis complied, climbing up on the bed and getting on his hands and knees. Terrell’s eyes goggled. He would never get tired of watching the dude do whatever the fuck he told him to. Making his straight coworker debase himself was the hottest fucking thing ever and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning. 

Dennis’ body bore witness to his incredible weight training regimen. He was flawlessly ripped; his smooth, porcelain skin was unblemished and pulled tight over his bulging muscles. His generous thighs amplified those burgeoning buttocks, as did his narrow hips and tapering waist. When the guy pushed his magnificent bubble backward and exposed his virgin asshole, Terrell’s cock throbbed and a little spurt of pre shout out.. Just like the rest of him, Dennis’ hole was perfect. Pink. Tender. Nubile.

It looked tight.

Really, really tight.

“You got a nice ass, don’t ya?” he commented, reaching out to pat those tantalizingly soft/firm globes.

Looking at him between the gap of his legs (and peering around his long, dangling cock), Dennis nodded once again.

Terrell smirked. “Now get ready for a fucking your hole is never gonna forget.”

He stooped to retrieve a condom from the back pocket of his discarded pants. He’d planned on using it on Justin after the party but wrecking Dennis’ rosebud was even better. Fuck Justin! he thought, burning with a sinister pride. I don’t need him when I got this motherfucker ready to do whatever I fuckin’ tell him!

Climbing up behind Dennis on the bed, he grasped him by the hips and pressed his cockhead against that gorgeous manbud. A shiver passed through Dennis’ body and his hole clenched slightly. Terrell knew he should make this fast because it wouldn’t be long before people realized Dennis was missing and started looking for him…but this was his perfect opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.

He leaned forward, folding himself over Dennis’ back and letting his long, hard cock slide between those smooth legs and under his dangling balls. Soon, his huge cock was caressing Dennis’ equally sizable cock. He smiled when he realized Dennis was fiercely erect, too, and he thrust forward playfully, feeling the guy’s cock bob and down against his own. He wrapped his arms around Dennis’ chest and laid his cheek against the nape of his neck.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked them away, angry at himself for being so weak. He turned his head and started crying anew when he caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror beside the bed. Frustrated by this upwelling of emotion, he tried to steel himself but  instead found himself marveling at the beautiful contrast of their skin. In the soft light of the bedroom, Dennis’s body glowed pink against Terrell’s burnished brown. He sighed, pressing harder against that taut body. Beneath him, Dennis quivered like an excited thoroughbred racehorse, all taut muscle and pent up energy.

Terrell longed to ride him.

He longed to take his ass virginity right there on the dude’s marriage bed and leave him ruined, destroyed, and completely useless for heterosexual sex. He wanted to mark Dennis indelibly, take everything and leave him with nothing. Make him his own.

But he couldn’t rape him.

He couldn’t do it.

He sighed and sagged down, tears pooling in the furrow of Dennis’ neck. That long, delightfully muscular body was so warm, so inviting. And that tight, unfucked hole beckoned to him.

But he couldn’t do it.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he whispered finally, giving Dennis’s firm torso one last, lingering squeeze. “But I am gonna make you mine. Here’s what yer gonna do…”

***

Chapter 4

The company closed for the week between Christmas and New Years and Terrell didn’t see Dennis again for more than a week after the party. Somewhat surprisingly, the dude wasn’t at his desk on the first day of work after the holidays. Terrell shook his head; this wasn’t like Dennis! He almost always got to work early and never called in sick.

As the morning wore on and the weekly sales meeting started without any sign of Dennis, Terrell grew concerned. His boss, Mr. Haskins, didn’t comment on Dennis’ absence and nodded his head at Terrell for him to begin. This was highly unusual! As the top salesman, Dennis always gave the opening presentation. Terrell cleared his throat and got up, taking up position at the head of the table.

He was halfway through his presentation when Dennis finally shuffled into the meeting room, taking a seat in the back. Haskins glared at him and Dennis shrank back in his chair. Terrell tried to ignore him but the dude kept fidgeting in his chair and casting furtive glances in the direction of…Terrell’s crotch. Terrell lost his train of thought and felt his cheeks color before he moved discreetly behind the lecturn, blocking Dennis’ view of his lower body.

Cock. Cock. Cock. I guess my suggestion worked. He can’t keep his eyes off of my crotch!

He looked back at Dennis and noticed he was sitting up in his chair, craning his neck. Jesus, he really does have cock on the brain! Terrell cleared his throat as he felt his cock responding to Dennis’ attention and he forced his attention back to his presentation. It was difficult but he managed to ignore him and finished without Haskins noticing his discomfort. He gratefully sank back into his chair, glad that he could conceal his semi under the table.

When it was Dennis’ turn to get in front of the group, he dawdled until Haskins, barked, “C’mon, Agema! We don’t got all day!” Dennis jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. As everyone stared, he attempted to roll his chair up to the front. When this proved impossible, he very carefully pushed himself up and walked woodenly to the front. Terrell noticed that he held his laptop down near his waist and wondered about it until he turned slightly to the side.

Holy shit! Terrell’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw Dennis’ backside. He really did it! He got the injections!

It was true.

Dennis’ butt was noticeably bigger–a lot bigger!–than it had been ten days ago when Terrell left him with his ass sticking ignominiously in the air in the bedroom at the holiday party. At the time, he hadn’t really expected Dennis to make good on his command to increase his ass size. It was one thing to hypnotically encourage the guy to start weight training and wear more flamboyant clothes but it was quite another to get him to permanently alter his body with ass injections.

It worked! It really fucking worked! Terrell bit the inside of his cheek and shifted in his chair to hide the evidence of his growing arousal. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Dennis Agema’s ass literally belonged to him!

The presentation didn’t go well for poor Dennis. He stumbled over his words and clearly hadn’t prepared. Worse, he grew more fidgety and hyperactive as time went on, gesticulating wildly and talking rapidly in an obvious attempt to distract the group from the fact that he didn’t know what he was saying. The nadir (or high point from Terrell’s perspective) occurred when he accidentally knocked his laptop off the podium and had to bend over quickly to catch it before it hit the floor.

RRRRRRIIIIIPPPPP!

The sound of tearing fabric echoed through the room and Dennis straightened abruptly, clapping his rescued laptop over his bottom. He stood there, face going scarlet and looking like a deer in the headlights before chirping, “Um, sorry! Gotta go!” 

With that, he cast an apologetic glance over at Mr. Haskins and fled the room.

***

Terrell found Dennis pacing in their office after the meeting was finished. He’d pulled the privacy shade and locked the door but had apparently forgotten that he shared the office because he squawked in surprise at the sound of Terrell’s key in the door.

Clapping his hands over his bottom, he sputtered, “T-T-Terrell! What–?” Just like in the meeting room, his eyes were locked onto Terrell’s crotch.

Terrell closed the door and held up his hands placatingly. “Chill, dude! Chill! I’m here to help.”

Dennis’ eye darted toward the door (and then back to Terrell’s bulge.) “I was just leaving! I need to go home and change my pants. I have a meeting with a client in a half hour!”

“Is there enough time for you to go home and still make the meeting?”

Dennis’ eyes widened. “Darn! I hadn’t thought about that! Oh, Terry, what am I going to do?” He lowered his head and started to sink down into his chair but froze as the seam in the back of his pants ripped wider.

Terrell sighed, feeling just a little bad for the guy. “C’mon. I got an idea.” He slipped off his suit coat and offered it to Dennis, explaining, “Put this on. It should cover your backside.”

Dennis accepted the coat gratefully but frowned when he tried it on. His beefy arms didn’t fit through the sleeves! “Oh, shoot!” he complained, hanging his head miserably. “It’s too small!”

Terrell stood there, cock throbbing. It was just so much fun seeing Dennis exploding out of his clothes! He was careful to hide his delight, though, as he soothed, “Don’t worry, man. We’ll think of something else.” He paused thoughtfully before offering, “We could swap pants. I’m…well, let’s just say I got a big booty. I’ll bet my pants’ll fit you.”

“But what will you wear?”

“I’ll put on yer pants. No one’ll see the tear in back if I keep my suit coat on.”

Terrell made sure their office door was locked and the privacy screen was all the way down before unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes. Keenly aware of Dennis’ eyes on his crotch, he didn’t bother concealing the growing bulge in his boxers as he stepped out of his pants and held them out, urging, “Let’s go! You got a meeting to get to!”  He cleared his throat when Dennis didn’t move because he was so busy ogling Terrell’s package. “Uh, today, Dennis.”

The hapless dude jumped, flushing pink, and reached out to take the proffered pants. He hesitated before taking them, though, asking in a small voice, “Um, Terry, would you mind turning around?”

Terrell stared at him. “Really, man? C’mon! Just take off yer pants!” Dennis blushed a deeper shade of pink and he acted like he was going to refuse but then sighed and unfastened his belt. When he peeled his pants down over his generous thighs, Terrell gave a start and let out a low whistle. “Jee-sus, bro! Yer goin’ commando!”

“I-I-I couldn’t squeeze into my underpants,” Dennis sputtered miserably, unable to meet Terrell’s gaze. “And I was running late as it was!”

He handed his pants over to Terrell and then tried ineffectually to cover his crotch while pulling on Terrell’s pants. His cock was too big (and too hard), though, and his attempts to hide it only made his growing erection more obvious. A small smile on his lips, Terrell savored watching him struggle before stepping into Dennis’ slacks. The pants were essentially the same size and basically the same grey color. The tear in the back ran nearly the whole length of the seat but his suit coat was plenty long enough. If he was careful when he sat down, he could make it through the rest of the day without anyone noticing. He cinched his belt, surprised that the pants fit him so well.

“Help me, Terry!”

He looked over to see Dennis grimacing as he struggled to pull the trousers over his hulking thighs. Terrell’s cock spasmed painfully at the sight. Apparently, the guy had taken every one of his commands to heart, even injecting his upper legs with generous amounts of filler. Muscular to begin with, they were now verging on huge. They flopped alluringly from side to side as the dude fought with the pants. And then there were his inflated buttocks…

Terrell’s mouth watered and he chewed his tongue to distract himself from his insistent hardon. Those butt cheeks were calling to him, though, and paced around behind Dennis and to marvel at his greatly enhanced backside.

Dennis’ ass was incredible.

Bigger than ever.

Verging on truly enormous but not quite there yet, it was nonetheless impossible to conceal. By obeying Terrell’s hypnotic suggestion to inflate it with fillers, he was well on the way to ensuring that his ass would be the first thing people noticed about him–and the last thing they would ever forget. Almost but not quite yet…

It was totally awesome.

Terrell gave up trying to ignore his erection and let it tent out his pants, leaking pre into his boxers. “Whoa, man!” he breathed. “What happened to yer ass?” Those wide, smooth, ridiculously blocky buttocks quivered before him, so big and desirable he had to fight the urge to bury his face in them right then and there.

Of course, he knew exactly what had happened to Dennis’ ass but he wasn’t going to let on. He wanted to test the power of his hypnotic hold. Back at the holiday party, he’d ordered him to get injections in his ass and thighs and then told him to forget that he had done so. Was Dennis really that clueless?

It turned out he was.

Dennis sounded desperate as he wailed, “I don’t know! It just keeps growing bigger and bigger! I’ve outgrown all of my clothes! Oh, Terry, what is wrong with me? What can I do?”

“Have you seen the doctor?”

Dennis nodded, looking back at him over his shoulder and struggling ineffectually to tug the pants over his ballooning buttocks. “Y-Y-Yes! That was the first thing I did! He said that I have done this to myself. B-B-But I’ve never done anything to my butt, Terry! You’ve got to believe me! Even Jenny says I’m lying!”

“Hmmmm. There has to be a logical explanation.” 

Terrell stared at those tantalizingly peach cheeks, aching to touch them. Should he utter Dennis’ trigger phrase or just go for it? Dennis was so worked up and turned on–Thanks to Terrell’s command to think about cock nonstop–that he might be receptive. Did he dare? Those huge cakes bobbed before him, only inches away. So full, so ripe, so jiggly…

Ungh.

Fuck it! I’m goin’ for it!

He threw caution to the wind and reached out to cup one of those amazing cheeks in his hand. He expected Dennis to react sharply but he didn’t. He braced, letting out a startled gasp, but didn’t pull away. Terrell’s eyes rolled back in his head. He was in heaven! Nothing could have prepared him for the heft, weight, and soft silkiness of the inflated globe. It was so big it spilled out of his palm. The sensation both ignited his lust and made him long for more. He wanted Dennis’ ass to grow even bigger!

“Well? Can you tell what’s wrong with me?” Dennis was frantic.

Terrell pretended to be clinical as he kneaded that juicy hunk of ass heaven back and forth, delighting in the sensation. Holy fuck, this is an incredible ass! Realizing Dennis was waiting for his reply, he shook himself. “Huh. It feels normal to me. Maybe you just need to cut back on your glute workouts?”

“Do you really think so?” Dennis whimpered. “Could it be that simple?”

“Good point. Lemme keep checking and I’ll let you know.” Terrell grinned at this artifice–Dennis was so naive!–and took both cheeks in his hands. He stifled a moan as he rolled the marvelously soft, smooth mounded bubbles around. Dennis stood there trembling, partially bent over, giant ass sticking out. Terrell was so overcome with the scintillating pleasure that it took him a while to realize Dennis was crying. When he did, the resulting stab of remorse helped to clear his head and he reluctantly dropped the deliciously fat slabs of cake.

“Aww, buddy, don’t cry!” he soothed. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure that if you cut back on your squats, yer butt’ll shrink.”

“But–”

“Shhh, you’ll be fine. Trust me. Now lemme help you get those pants on…”

Dennis sniffled as Terrell grasped the waistband of the trousers and eased it up and over his burgeoning quads. It took some effort but he managed to work them inside the pant legs. He then focused on squeezing his lusciously fat globes into the seat of the pants. With some stuffing, he finally succeeded and he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

The trousers clung to Dennis’ booty like a second skin, stretched to capacity and leaving nothing to the imagination. His injected quads looked like stuffed sausages and the seat of the pants rode up the crack of his ass, delineating each massive globe perfectly.

But they held.

And looked pretty fucking good, if you asked Terrell.

Dennis straightened and buckled his belt before looking back at himself, amazed. “H-H-How–?”

“Black dude pants,” Terrell explained, “are made to fit our butts. They’re made with Lycra so they stretch. Now let’s get you to that meeting, Ok? When you get back, we’ll do a little shopping online and I’ll fix ya up with some clothes that’ll fit ya better.”

***

Chapter 5

After Dennis had squeezed into the pants and left for his meeting, Terrell tried to focus on his work but this proved difficult. He couldn’t get Dennis’ huge ass off of his mind, nor could he forget the thrill of having the guy under his complete control. It made him hornier than fuck and his erection would not go down. He finally made a stop in the restroom and jacked off but this only offered temporary relief. He just couldn’t get Dennis out of his mind!

He was about to head back to the restroom for another JO session when he heard someone clear his throat. He looked up from his desk to see Mr. Haskins standing in the doorway. Even though he knew Haskins couldn’t see him fondling his hard cock under the desk, he jerked his hand away.

“Terrell, I’ve got a new client for you,” Haskins announced, giving him a friendly smile. “I think you’re just the person for them, too. They called me a few minutes ago and asked to be reassigned.”

“Reassigned?”

“Yes.” Haskin’s smile faded and he fixed Terrell with a serious look. “They used to be one of Dennis’ accounts but he fucked up one too many times and they want another sales rep.”

“Oh.” Terrell swallowed, glancing down at this desk. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. You’re our rising star, Springer, and I want to reward you.” He paced forward and dropped a business card on the desk. “Go to this address. They’re expecting you.”

***

The business card was for a furniture factory on the city’s southeast side but when he pulled up to the address, he found himself parked in front of a nondescript office building. Curious, he wrapped his scarf around his neck to protect against the bitter January chill and got out to take a look.

“Hathaway Furniture,” the sign read in peeling plastic letters. “Ring bell for service.”

Terrell shrugged and pressed the buzzer. He waited a long time and was preparing to leave when the door finally opened and a man beckoned him inside.

“Mr. Springer is it?” the man asked, stepping forward and extending his hand, “I’m Jake Hathaway. Sorry to keep you waiting! I was back in the warehouse supervising the assembly line.”

Terrell stared at the man, cock twitching in his pants. The guy was huge. Perhaps fifty years old with salt and pepper hair, he kept his hair cropped short, military style. A close-trimmed beard covered his lantern jaw. Even though Terrell was tall, the guy towered over him, easily a good five inches taller. He was built like a bull with a wide neck, hulking chest, and enormous arms. Everything about him screamed ex-military and this hunch proved correct; he learned later that Mr. Hathaway was a former marine.

If Jake was aware of Terrell’s interest and scrutiny, he didn’t appear to show it. He turned and motioned for Terrell to follow him, saying over his shoulder, “C’mon, I’ll show the factory and introduce you to my boys–” 

His voice broke off as he looked down at his smartwatch and swore under his breath. “Jesus Christ, it’s brand new and already broken!” He glanced over at Terrell and, noticing he wore a similar Apple watch, asked, “Does yers ever do this?”

Terrell moved closer and stared down at the watch face. It was flashing brightly, almost like a strobe light. He shook his head. “Nope, mine’s never done that before. You should take it back. I’m sure they’ll exchange it for another one.”

Jake nodded unhappily, grumbling, “Great, one more fuckin’ thing to do!” With that, he sighed and continued out the door, heading down the back hallway.

Terrell watched him go, the biggest, baddest, sexiest brute he’d ever seen…and took off in hot pursuit.

***

The factory was quite a hike from the storefront. Terrell followed along behind Jake, drinking in his broad shoulders and firm, muscular backside while the dude droned on about his company. Terrell knew he should be listening more attentively but his cock was in charge and he only heard snippets. Even so, it was enough for him to piece together that Jake had started the company after he left the Marine Corps, making a point to hire ex-cons. All of the men in his factory were getting back on their feet after a stay in prison. Most of them had served time for drug offenses but a few had committed more serious crimes like armed robbery. “None of my guys are violent, though,” Jake reassured him. “A bit rough, maybe, but they wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

After winding through the hallways of the aging office building, they exited into the cold outdoors, trekking across a slushy paved lot and over to a huge warehouse. It was an old building with rusted sheet metal siding and smudgy windows high up near the roofline.

“I bought this place for a steal during the Great Recession,” Jake explained. “The city practically begged me to take it off their hands.”

“Hmmm.” Terrell didn’t give a fuck as long as those big, blocky buttocks were so tantalizingly close.

“We’re almost at shift change. It’s a good time to meet the guys. I told ‘em this morning we had a new ad rep coming for a visit.”

The inside of the factory was cold and drafty with only a few overhead heaters scattered about. A long assembly line snaked back and forth across the huge expanse of dirty cement floor. Perhaps twenty or thirty guys were hard at work, some loading parts onto the conveyor belt, others unloading assembled pieces of furniture. A few more boxed up the finished product and loaded pallets for waiting forklift operators. Overall, there were a lot fewer people than Terrell would have expected…and a lot more machines.

Intuiting his thoughts, Jake explained, “The robots do most of the work. I only need the guys for the grunt work. Anyone with a grade school education can do this kind of work as long as he’s got lots of muscle.”

A lot of muscle is right… Terrell’s already beleaguered cock went rigid when he took in the sight of those huge slabs of beef that Jake called his workers. They were immense walls of muscle who made their towering boss look petite. While none of them were quite as tall as Jake, they made up for it in sheer body mass.

A whistle sounded and the men finished up their activities, eventually making their way over to the time clock near where Terrell and Jake were standing. Terrell’s mouth hung open as the group of grimy guys approached. To a man, they wore Carhartt overalls and flannel shirts that did little to conceal their burgeoning physiques. Slinging hardhats under their beefy arms, they reached out to shake Terrell’s hand when Jake introduced him.

“This is the guy I was telling ya ‘bout. His name’s Terrell and he’s our new ad rep. Treat him nice, Ok?”

Terrell swallowed, cock leaking in his pants as his hand was shaken by one giant paw after another. He had big hands but they were dwarfed by those calloused mitts! 

For a bunch of big louts, the guys were surprisingly bashful, lowering their eyes as they grunted their hellos. Terrell was so overwhelmed from being encircled by two dozen of the biggest brutes he’d ever met that it took him awhile to realize that Jake hadn’t exaggerated: This was a really rough-looking crew! Heavily pierced and tatted, they certainly looked like they’d lived rough lives. Their faces were lined prematurely and their eyes were dull and expressionless, the eyes of men who had seen too much of life’s harsher side.

After they departed, Terrell realized another thing about the group of workers: They were all white. Huh? Even around Grand Rapids–or maybe especially around Grand Rapids–I know the prison population is mostly black. Why’s he only hiring white ex-cons? Terrell shook his head, resolving to ask Jake about this later.

***

Jake gave him a tour of the factory floor, taking him around before the next shift started. When it was over, he stated, “Let’s talk shop back in my office.”

He started to turn but then stopped and looked over at one of the guys who had followed them during the tour, ordering, “Buzz, come with us. I got a project for ya.” Immediately, the guy broke away from his coworkers and obediently followed Jake toward the warehouse exit. Terrell watched them go for a moment before shrugging and continuing along behind them.

“Buzz here was my first recruit,” Jake announced after they’d trekked back to the old office building. Terrell took a seat in a creaky office chair in front of Hathaway’s battered old desk. (For owning a furniture factory, he would have thought the chairs in Jake’s office would be more comfortable!) “He’s one of my best workers, aren’t ya, Buzz?”

Buzz hung his head, cheeks coloring with this praise, but remained mute.

Terrell nodded, studying the man. Buzz appeared to be older than the other workers, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. Sporting a blond buzzcut and a ragged beard, his wide face was deeply lined and his blunt features were misshapen, the result, Terrell soon learned, of an early career in mixed martial arts. (‘He’s got cauliflower ears and his nose’s been broken more times than I can count!’ Jake relayed later after they’d gone out for a beer at a local bar.) Gaping holes marred his earlobes, evidence of former gauges and thick nose ring dangled from his deviated septum. Maori or Tahitian tattoos swirled around his cheeks and his bull neck was disfigured by a particularly lurid tattoo of the Phantom of the Opera.

“I like to show Buzz off to guests because he’s so special to me.” Jake settled into his chair, leaning back and lifting his great arms behind his head. “He’s also evidence that you can’t judge a book by his cover. Buzz might have made some poor choices early in life but he’s on the straight and narrow now. A true role model!”

Buzz blushed a deeper shade of pink and stared down at the floor. He roused himself a moment later to rumble, “D’ya want any coffee, man?” When Terrell smiled his acceptance, he lumbered over to the far corner of the room where a small coffee pot sat warming on a burner.

Terrell scrutinized him more closely when his back was turned, marveling at how such a huge and tough-looking guy could be polite and gentle…and sexy. Yes, there was something undeniably alluring about him, not the least of which was his generous butt. Buzz really filled up those Carhartts! Fuck, his ass cheeks looked to be at least as big as Dennis’, maybe even bigger. Terrell shifted, feeling his cock pulse urgently, and he forced himself to look away but not before he caught Jake’s knowing look. Now it was Terrell’s turn to blush and he cleared his throat, lowering his eyes self-consciously to the floor.

After an awkward silence, Jake smiled. “Let’s get down to business. I need to get you caught up to speed on our account. Dennis was a great sales rep for us until he started slipping. Something tells me, though, you’ll be much more attentive to my needs.”

Terrell looked up in time to catch Jake’s wink and wondered, ‘What does that mean?’ He schooled his features, though, saying cautiously, “I will do my best, Sir.”

Jake waved this off. “Sir? C’mon, Terrell! We’re old friends here. Please call me ‘Jake’ just like the rest of my boys.”

Nodding, Terrell picked up his briefcase and pulled out his tablet computer, saying, “Alright, Jake. How about if you show me what you had in mind…”

***

Their meeting lasted a couple of hours and the dim January day was fading into early dusk by the time they finished. Terrell was preparing to leave when Jake surprised him by inviting him out for a beer. This was a novel thing for Terrell, the first time a client had wanted to meet over alcohol and he was momentarily taken aback.

“C’mon, Terrell,” Jake said, winking. “We’re practically family now. Lemme take ya to my favorite dive bar. It’s just down the street.”

With that, he dismissed Buzz and invited Terrell to ride with him in his beat-up old pickup truck. In only a few minutes, Jake pulled up in front of a seedy-looking establishment. Terrell stared in surprise. He had no idea that such a disreputable-looking bar existed within the city limits of Grand Rapids…and he immediately fell in love. He felt like he was back home again in the Big D.

“Ahhh, now that’s more like it!” he breathed, shoulders relaxing. He could see some of the patrons through the window and was pleased to see it was a mixed race crowd. Another bonus!

“Thought ya might approve,” Jake grunted, clambering out of the truck and waiting for Terrell to join him. “This is one of my haunts.”

The bartender, a handsome black guy with long dreads, greeted them as they entered and Jake ordered a couple of beers. They settled into a booth with sagging leather seats and low-hanging light with a Budweiser lampshade. The place smelled of stale beer and grease, two aromas that Terrell had missed since moving to Grand Rapids. God, this was great!

While they waited for their food, Jake asked him about his experience moving to Grand Rapids from Detroit. He listened politely as Terrell talked, offering a comment here and there to establish that he wasn’t from West Michigan originally, either. “I moved here from Fort Wayne ten years ago. Took some getting used to. Glad I found a good church or I woulda left.”

Terrell stopped, mid-bite into his juicy burger. “A…church?”

Jake smiled and Terrell was momentarily dazzled. There was no doubt about it, Jake was hot! Those beautiful brown eyes were so warm and inviting. And that casual air of authority…Ungh! He suppressed a shiver of desire as he forced his mind back to the conversation.

“Yeah, my church. I joined the CRC when I moved here. Made all the difference in the world, man!”

“The CRC?” Terrell repeated before remembering what the initials stood for: Christian Reformed Church, the socially conservative church that seemingly half the population of Grand Rapids attended. He pulled back from the table, looking back at Jake questioningly. Just when he thought he’d found someone who was different!

Jake’s eyes danced with amusement at his reaction. “Now Terrell, don’t jump to conclusions. After meeting my guys, ya gotta realize that ya can’t judge a book by his cover, or I guess that’s ‘church’ in my case. I never professed to believe in the creed of the CRC. I go there for my own reasons.”

“I don’t follow. If you’re not going for religious purposes, why go? To socialize?”

“In a way.”

Terrell’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Here, it’s easier if I show you,” Jake answered, leaning back in the booth and pulling out his wallet. He extracted a business card and handed it over.

Terrell took and studied it, the skin on the back of his neck prickling as he did so. The card read, ‘J. Hathaway, Hypnotist.’ He lifted his head, eyes going wide as he put two and two together. “Y-Y-Your Dennis’ hypnotist, aren’t you?”

Jake nodded, brown eyes sparkling. “The one and the same.”

“But–”

“Lemme explain. Being a hypnotist is an old hobby of mine. I started doing it back in the service after I learned the tricks of the trade from a true master. Since then, I’ve found it useful in recruiting my workforce.”

Terrell stared. “You…hypnotize…guys into working for you?” Outwardly, he fought to maintain his composure but inwardly his mind was roiling with alarm. What kind of sick fuck was this man sitting across the table from him?

“Terrell,” Jake replied in a level voice, “I am going to be completely honest with you because I trust you. Can you keep a secret?”

“S-S-Sure.”

“Good. Now look at this.” Jake pulled out his iPhone and swiped a finger across the screen, opening his video album. He held it out to Terrell who accepted it with shaking hands. “Do you recognize this guy?”

The video playing on the screen was of a breathtakingly handsome, blond guy with a strong jawline and a self-assured mien that bordered on cocky. He was shirtless, his lithe torso rippling with muscles. His skin was flawless, smooth, and white as porcelain. His blue eyes were filled with triumph as he leapt up in the air and effortlessly caught a football. He landed, ball in hand, a confident smirk on his face.

Terrell searched the young guy’s face, realizing he did look vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place him. He looked away from the screen, stating, “No, I don’t. Who is he?”

The answer shook him to the core. “That’s Buzz five years ago just before I hypnotized him. Of course, back then he went by a different name. His old name was Carlyle.”

***

“…so when Dennis returned for his followup appointment this morning sporting a new, huge ass, I knew something was up. I put him in a trance and asked him who’d taken control over him and…well, that’s how I found out about you.”

Terrell shook himself at these words. He had slipped into a state of numb shock after learning that, far from being in his early forties, Buzz was only twenty-five years old and had once been a member of Jake’s youth group at church. Jake had showed him more videos and pictures, documenting Buzz’s rapid devolution to a roided-out, former drug addict and ex-con. The pictures were especially horrifying now that Terrell knew how Buzz–er, Carlyle–had looked before Jake got his hands on him.

Once a promising quarterback on a scholarship to Michigan State, Carlyle had been hypnotized into believing he was a high school dropout whose only career prospect lay in mixed martial arts. He’d thrown himself into MMA with a passion but ultimately lacked the talent to move beyond middling ranks. As he lost more fights, he became desperate to gain an edge and started taking steroids. His lean physique grew heavy and bloated with muscle. He developed disfiguring acne and his skin became ruddy, thin, and papery. His nipples distended. The cartilage in his ears and nose went wild, thanks to massive doses of Human Growth Hormone.

Around the same time, he became obsessed with tattoos and piercings. First, ink appeared on his bicep, followed by more on his other arm. Soon, the tats covered his chest, back, legs and neck. He gauged his ears, pierced his nose, nipples, and cock. More fights and more broken noses nearly erased the traces of his formerly magnificent good looks. His angular, rugged features grew heavy, round, and bovine. The drugs–Crystal Meth, according to Jake–had been his ultimate downfall, leaving him prematurely aged with rotten teeth and a hollowed-out expression. No longer able to fight, he needed money to support his habit and ultimately had been arrested for armed robbery. By then, his family wanted nothing to do with him. He went to prison for three years.

Jake was waiting for him when he got out.

Jake was his hero. Savior. Mentor. Employer. Boss.

Jake had also orchestrated the whole thing.

The same story was repeated for every one of the guys who worked in his factory. They were all former golden boys from religious families. Jake had earned their trust and taken them under his wing, nurturing them and patiently waiting for the moment to strike. He was careful, calculating. None of their families suspected. They all thought their sons and brothers had become lost, fallen into a life of crime and drugs and prison only to miraculously find salvation through Jake. 

But the truth was they never would have fallen if Jake hadn’t pushed them first.

“When I saw Dennis, I knew,” Jake continued, bringing Terrell back to the present, “that someone had found him. Someone like me.”

“I am nothing like you!” Terrell shot back, sitting up indignantly. He would have stormed out if Jake hadn’t stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.

He caught and held Terrell’s gaze with those soulful brown eyes. “That’s not true, Terrell. You and I are the same. And I’ve been looking for you for a very long time.” Terrell took a deep breath, preparing to launch into an indignant diatribe but Jake stopped him, holding up a big hand. “Hold on. Hear me out! I know this is a lot to take in but I’m confident you will come around.”

“I doubt that.”

Jake was unperturbed by his attitude. “Come work for me, Terrell. I need someone to handle my marketing. I’m worried that people in my church will start to suspect something is up and want to branch out. Someone with your skills and background could open up new, untapped markets. We would be swimming in money…and, of course, handsome, young men in desperate need of corrupting.” When Terrell still seemed unconvinced, he continued, “And I’m a really good boss. I will work hard to make sure you’re satisfied with…” He paused to lean back and let his hand drop suggestively over his crotch, concluding, “my benefits package.”

Revulsion flooding over him, Terrell shoved away from the booth, spitting, “First off: No. I will not work for you. You’re a fucking monster who should be locked up. Second, I’m a top and will remain one as long as my dick gets hard. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”

***

Chapter 6

Terrell was so shaken by his meeting with Jake that he told Haskins the next morning to take him off the Hathaway account. When asked why, he made up some excuse; there was no way he was going to tell his boss the real reason! Haskins was disappointed but understanding and reassigned the account to another rep.

Even after being removed from the account, the meeting continued to haunt him and he kept going over everything that had transpired. He was particularly rankled by the assertion that he and Jake were the same. There was no way he was like that monster! He wasn’t a sexual predator! He would never take advantage of an innocent guy even if the dude kind of deserved it.

But then again…

Isn’t that what he’d done to Dennis? He had preyed on the poor guy, using his hypnotic trigger against him and forcing him to do things–Alter his body, for Chrissake!–for Terrell’s pleasure and sadistic amusement. He had stripped him naked, fondled him, and come very close to raping him. And he was looking forward to doing it again! Now that Dennis had started altering his body, Terrell couldn’t wait to push him further.

He reached down and massaged his cock in his pants, grimacing when he realized he was hard as a rock. He hung his head, both hating himself and longing to force Dennis to do more wicked things to himself.

What was wrong with him?

Maybe he wasn’t so different from Jake Hathaway after all?

No!

Jake was far worse! He stalked his victims, gaining their trust only to use it against them. Terrell hadn’t done that to Dennis. He had innocently stumbled upon the trigger; he hadn’t fooled Dennis into being hypnotized for nefarious reasons. That didn’t make him as bad as Jake. No, he was definitely not as evil as Jake. Maybe a little evil for continuing to exploit his hold over Dennis but not ruthless like Jake.

Still, it did feel a little like splitting hairs and his conscience was quick to remind him that, while he might not be as bad as Jake, he was nonetheless guilty of similar crimes. Dennis didn’t deserve to have his life ruined this way. He had always treated Terrell with kindness, going out of his way to be friendly. He might be clueless and over-privileged but was that a reason to ruin his life and body?

As much as he hated to admit it, he’d been wrong to hypnotize Dennis and he needed to stop doing it. More than that, he needed to do what he could to help him repair the damage he’d done to his body…and probably his marriage. After all, what must Jenny think about his changes? She was probably horrified by what Dennis had done to himself. Terrell was a homewrecker!

No more, though.

This ended today.

As soon as Dennis arrived in the office, he resolved to do everything he could to help the guy get back to the body and life he’d had before. He would fix this, dammit! He would–

“Hiya, Terry!”

He looked up to see Dennis sauntering into the office, gym bag slung over his shoulder and that magnificent ass swaying behind him. It had an immediate effect on him and he couldn’t help smiling as he called out, “Hey, Dennis! Looking good, man! Those pants really show off yer booty!”

Dennis flushed, favoring him with a small smile, but grew serious a moment later, admitting, “Jenny doesn’t think so. She thinks I’m trying to make my butt get bigger and has stopped talking to me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Dennis was silent. Then shrugged and gave him a winning smile. “I’m glad you’re on my side, though. You’re a good friend.”

Terrell felt a stab of guilt with these words. If only Dennis knew that he was the one responsible for his predicament with his wife! He set these feelings aside, though, and replied, “I am always here for ya, man. Anytime, anywhere.”

***

Life had changed for Dennis in the office. No longer did women stop by to chat and flirt. Haskins barely acknowledged him. Terrell could tell from overheard phone conversations that he was losing clients. People gave him the cold shoulder. No one told Dennis directly why they kept their distance but the reason was abundantly obvious: His ass. It was so big now that there was no way to hide it. So big that it couldn’t possibly be real. So huge that everyone knew he’d done something to himself. Dennis had crossed an invisible line and was being ostracized.

He was a perv. A kinkster. A fetishist.

Definite no-nos in wholesome Grand Rapids.

Perversely, Dennis’ downfall benefited Terrell. He was now the top salesman and had more than enough clients. Haskins went out of his way to praise him and the other people in the office were unfailingly kind and gracious whenever he entered the room. He had become the new company golden boy and he lapped it up. Never in his life had he been treated like royalty and he savored every moment of it. It filled his heart with pride and made him feel like he’d finally succeeded in making it in the white man’s world.

He benefited from Dennis’ downfall in another way: The guy adored him. As Dennis’ position in the office hierarchy declined, he drew closer to Terrell, leaning on him for support. And Terrell was always there for him. He felt guilty about it but it didn’t stop him from encouraging Dennis to seek him out as a friend. Dennis hung on his every word and texted him throughout the day and night whenever they were apart. Sometimes they would spend hours chatting on a private Slack channel, staying up late into the night, sharing more and more intimate thoughts and feelings.

Terrell was tempted to come out to him. He suspected that Dennis was waiting for him to do so. Many of his questions could be read as an invitation to reveal his sexual orientation but Terrell was hesitant. He knew Dennis was very religious and also that he was ostensibly straight, not to mention married. Sure, he’d hypnotized him into thinking about cock nonstop but that didn’t mean he was gay. After all, you couldn’t change someone’s sexual orientation using hypnosis, could you?

Between his rising position at work and budding friendship with Dennis, Terrell lacked an incentive to follow through on his pledge to un-hypnotize him. Why do it when he was benefiting so handsomely? He felt guilty about this but consoled himself by vowing that he would undo Dennis’ hypnosis someday…just not today.

***

At lunchtime one day, Terrell was warming up on the basketball court at the YMCA when he heard a low whistle and exclamations of disgust.

“What the heck, Agema?! Would you cover up that thing? It’s gross!”

Terrell looked over to see Dennis jog onto the court, his amazingly inflated ass bouncing behind him. The fact that he was there at all was surprising–it had been a couple weeks since he’d joined the team for a game–but his choice of attire was even more shocking. He was wearing a form-fitting tank top and a pair of incredibly low-riding tights which exaggerated his giant thighs and butt cheeks. When he turned to the side, his buttocks jutted out behind him like the juiciest bubbles that Terrell had ever seen.

Terrell had to turn away to conceal his instant hardon as the rest of the guys complained vociferously about the dude’s ridiculous getup. Dennis’ smile slowly faded into a frown at the onslaught of abuse.

His shoulders fell and he had started to turn and slink away when Terrell came to his defense, shouting, “Hey, lay off him, guys! What he chooses to wear on the court is none of your business!” He smiled encouragingly over at Dennis who brightened and squared his shoulders, preparing to return to the game.

The other team members were silent but Sammie, the youngest and boldest of the group, complained, “It is my business ‘cuz I don’t wanna have to look at that freaky huge butt!” He crossed his arms and scowled at Dennis before turning his back on him. 

“Geezus, Sammie!” Terrell growled, stalking over to confront him. “It wasn’t that long ago white people said the same thing about playing sports with blacks. You sure you wanna go there?”

Sammie was unbowed. “That’s different, Terrell! You can’t change the color of your skin but Dennis chose to make himself a fat-assed freak!”

“Ah, so you’re sayin’ the two things–dark skin color and bein’ a freak–are the same then.” Terrell arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Tell me more about that. I’m really interested in hearin’ what ya got to say.”

It was satisfying to watch Sammie’s veneer crack. He shrank away from Terrell, holding up his hands placatingly and sputtering, “Uh, no! No, that’s not what I’m saying at all!”

“Good. Then let’s play some basketball.”

With that, Terrell grabbed the basketball out of the hands of a nearby teammate and resumed warming up.

***

Dennis was off his game. He had a hard time keeping up on the court and he was easily distracted. Terrell watched him closely and stepped in when he could but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. As the game wore on, it became increasingly obvious why he was doing so poorly. His huge ass was definitely part of the problem; it slowed him down and threw off his balance. His swelling muscles didn’t help, either. His big biceps, wide shoulders, and bulging pecs might look impressive but their added weight and heft were a liability on the court. 

And then there was his cock obsession.

Dennis couldn’t keep his eyes off his teammates’ crotches. More often than not, he missed a pass because his gaze was fixed on the bulge in the guy’s shorts rather than the basketball in his hands. He would fumble the pass or, worse, the ball would bounce off his chest before he even realized it was heading toward him. Soon, the team stopped passing to him and he grew increasingly isolated. Finally, he became discouraged and stalked off the court to sit out the rest of the game.

Terrell felt bad for him and sought him out afterwards but he’d disappeared. Huh? he thought. Dude must’ve taken off. He shrugged and headed down to the locker room, determined to seek Dennis out when he got back to work. They needed to talk!

He was getting undressed in the locker room when he heard jeers erupt in the showers. He couldn’t hear exactly what was going on but he thought he recognized some of the voices. Curious, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed down the hall to investigate.

“Fucking faggot!” someone yelled as he turned the corner. “He’s fucking jacking off in here! Get the fuck outta here, you fat-assed freak!”

Terrell’s heart sank. He had a sick premonition of what he would find when he entered the showers and he wasn’t wrong. A group of angry naked guys–many of them from his basketball team–surrounded someone huddled in the corner. Clouds of steam billowed through the air but even so he had no trouble identifying the target of everyone’s ire: Dennis Agema cringed against the wall, trying ineffectually to cover his giant erection. His cock was so big, though, that it was impossible. His big, fat organ throbbed hard and red, jutting out between his flailing hands.

Without thinking, Terrell dove between the angry mob and Dennis, barking, “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” 

Startled, the group backed away, giving Dennis just enough room to squeeze past and make his escape. Terrell watched him stagger out of the showers, giant booty swinging salaciously behind him. If he hadn’t been so enraged, he would have found it extremely hot. As it was, though, his mind was on other more pressing matters.

“Why’re you always sticking up for him, Terrell?”

It was Sammie again. Scowling and red-faced, the young guy puffed up his chest and rounded on Terrell. Terrell was taken aback, not the least because Sammie was completely naked…and very stunning. Tall and blond like Dennis, he was even more hung. He wasn’t as beefy and not quite as handsome but he was nonetheless an impressive slab of man. Ordinarily, Terrell wouldn’t have minded being so close to such a fine specimen of manhood but this situation was anything but erotic.

“Why am I sticking up for him?” Terrell repeated rhetorically. “A better question is why’re you always pickin’ on him?” He paused to massage his fist ominously with his right hand, adding, “You know I can’t fuckin’ stand bullies, right?”

His thinly veiled threat landed as intended and Sammie backed down. Wincing, the guy held up his hands in surrender. “I-I-I didn’t mean to offend you, Terrell!” he squeaked. “It’s just that this is a public locker room not a fuckin’ gay orgy! Guys can’t jack off in here!”

Terrell smiled thinly. “You got a point but it’s still no excuse to gang up on him. I’m willing to bet he’s so embarrassed, he’ll never show his face here again.”

“Good!” Sammie spat, shaking his head. “I’m fine with that. In fact, I don’t ever wanna see his face–or his freaky ass–again, either!”

This was greeted with nods of agreement as the assembled men gradually dispersed back to their stalls and resumed showering off. Terrell watched them for a moment before departing. Now he really needed to talk to Dennis! Things were starting to get out of control.

***

He found Dennis hiding in a stall in the restroom just off the showers. He wasn’t difficult to identify because he was crouched in the corner, big ass cheeks sagging down so far that Terrell could see them through the gap under the stall partition. He strode up and knocked on the door before pushing inside, glad to find it was unlatched. In his haste to flee, Dennis had neglected to lock it.

The poor, naked guy shrank back in alarm when he burst inside. Before he could attempt to flee, though, Terrell held up his hands, soothing, “It’s Ok, man. C’mon, let’s get ya outta here.” He extended his hand, motioning with his fingers for Dennis to take it.

Dennis stared at the hand for a moment before reaching out hesitantly. Terrell had just started to pull him to his feet when Dennis’s other hand shot out and he ripped off Terrell’s towel. Terrell reacted with shock as his big, floppy cock sprang free. He tried to cover himself but Dennis was already burying his face in his crotch. Terrell’s eyes rolled back in his head as Dennis wolfed down his cock, swallowing it in one giant gulp.

“Ah, fuck! Dennis! Stop–UNGH!”

Fucking shit but Dennis Agema could suck a cock! Terrell’s cock sprang to attention, responding almost violently to the magic of the dude’s tongue. He soon forgot all about the worry they might be discovered having sex in a public restroom as he instinctively grabbed the back of Dennis’ head and thrust his cock deeper inside his gaping maw, face-fucking him with wild abandon. He came in a loud, messy climax that left him gasping and Dennis choking down a prodigious amount of cum. When his hose was finally empty, he fell back against the wall, a big, stupid smile on his face.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, man!” he sighed. “That was fuckin’ awesome!”

Dennis stared up at him from his seat on the toilet, jacking his engorged cock with one hand and wiping Terrell’s cum off his face with the other. He looked both freaked out and stoned, his green eyes dilated and his mouth hanging open. Poor guy! He has no idea what’s happening to him! Terrell felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he was the cause of all of Dennis’ confusion and misery, and lifted him up off the toilet seat, murmuring, “Aw, man, c’mere! I got ya.” He folded his arms around Dennis’ broad back and lowered his lips to his mouth, kissing him gently.

Dennis was inert in his arms at first but then surrendered, folding his firm, muscular body into Terrell’s and opening his mouth, welcoming his tongue inside. Their cocks rubbed together, sandwiched between their taut bellies. Soon, Terrell was hard again and the friction of his cock sliding against Dennis’ monster drove him mad with lust. He devoured Dennis, grinding his pelvis into his crotch and reaching down to massage the dude’s amazingly inflated ass cheeks. He thought he would pass out when Dennis climaxed, convulsing and smothering Terrell’s stomach with a big, sticky load.

Terrell held him tenderly as he came, caressing his butt and murmuring in his ear until he recovered enough to regain his balance. When Dennis leaned against him, lowering his cheek against his shoulder and crying softly, Terrell thought his heart would melt.

“I-I-I can’t believe I just did that!” Dennis whimpered. “I just committed adultery, broke my marriage vows, and engaged in depraved, homosexual acts! I-I-I’m a sinner! I have sinned!” He stifled a sob, clinging desperately to Terrell as he admitted, “A-A-And it felt so good!”

Lifting his hand to cup the back of his head, Terrell remained silent. What could he say? There were no words to undo what they’d just done. And he didn’t want to.

Neither of them had any idea that just beyond the stall, Sammie had observed the whole encounter. Scowling, the young stud fastened his towel tightly around his waist and stalked out of the bathroom. There was someone who needed to hear about this right away and he was determined to be the one to tell her.

***

Chapter 7

Terrell’s doorbell rang that evening, barely fifteen minutes after he’d returned to his apartment. Curious, he opened the door…and staggered backward in surprise at the sight of Dennis Agema clad only in a tiny, pink jockstrap.

“I couldn’t wait,” Dennis admitted, hanging his head. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”

Terrell stood there dumbfounded, feeling his cock respond to the sight of the big, muscular stud in such revealing attire. Terrell had yet to be treated to an unrushed view of Dennis’ naked body and it took all he had not to immediately rip the little strap off of him and fuck him senseless.

Dennis’ body was replete with muscles. In the dim light of the open doorway, his hairless, toned, ripped physique glowed warm, pink, and inviting. Those massive thighs and broad shoulders accentuated his impossibly thin waist. His big arms hung out from his sides, pushed out by his expanding lats. And then there was the fat outline of his cock filling up the tiny pouch of his jock…

He took a step back, determined to prolong the enjoyment of seeing Dennis like this. Was he on steroids? Terrell shook his head. Nah, he was bulked up, sure, but not ridiculously so. Plus, his skin looked normal–Fuck, it looked better than normal! Soft and silky, flawless. Ungh!–no acne, ‘roid gut, or bitch tits. The dude had clearly achieved this look through hard work and dedication. Only his thighs and ass had been, ahem, tampered with. 

Dennis stood there, quivering with anticipation, the pouch of his jock getting fuller the longer Terrell spent examining him. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and sprang forward, grabbing Terrell in his huge arms and wrestling his clothes off. Soon, Terrell was nearly as naked as Dennis, his boxers hanging in shreds and his long, fat cock pressed rigidly against Dennis’ belly.

“I want you to take my flower.”

Terrell blinked. “Yer…flower? What do you–” He halted mid sentence, finally understanding. “Oh, you mean yer ass virginity, don’t you?”

Dennis lowered his green eyes demurely, cheeks coloring. At the same time, he took Terrell’s hands and moved them downward until they were on his ballooning buttocks. Terrell squeezed those massive cheeks, feeling his cock spurt a hot jet of pre as he did so. Oh, how he’d longed to fuck that delicious, juicy ass!

“You sure ‘bout this, man?”

Dennis nodded. “I’ve never been more certain. I want you inside me, Terrell. All of you.”

Terrell smiled, reaching back to close the door. He led Dennis into the living room where he instructed him to get down on his hands and knees and face forward.

“If we’re gonna do this,” he growled, slapping Dennis hard on his over-filled buttocks.. “We’re gonna do this right!”

He lowered himself onto his haunches and leaned forward to take those massive globes in his hands. He paused to admire the view: The straps of Dennis’ tiny, pink jock looked like they were going to snap apart at any moment; they hadn’t been designed to contain such a gargantuan bottom! He swallowed thickly, feeling close to having the first hands-free orgasm of his life. He’d never seen anything so tantalizing!

He shook himself and parted those heavenly cakes, intent on eating his way to Dennis’ hot hole one lick at a time. This proved more difficult than expected because Dennis must have visited the cosmetic surgery clinic again after their…union…in the toilets at the YMCA: His ass had swollen even bigger and verged on the truly freakish.

Not that Terrell was complaining!

Emitting a deep, hungry growl, he pried those swollen globes apart and, taking a deep breath, buried his face inside. The sensation of those giant, silken mounds sliding across his face was divine and he thrust his tongue out eagerly even as Dennis pushed backward, moaning with delight. Terrell’s tongue was just about to its goal–that hidden, musky gateway to paradise–when he licked something unexpected. Something soft and flowery that tasted of perfume. Confused, he pulled away.

“What is that in there?”

Dennis exhaled. Apparently, he’d been holding his breath, too. “I told you already,” he explained. “It’s my flower.”

Terrell wrinkled his brow. “Huh?”

“Go on, take it!” Dennis urged, pushing his huge buttocks backward; they opened invitingly, making Terrrell’s mouth water. “It’s yours!”

Still confused, Terrell dug his hand into Dennis’ hot, moist cleft. His tongue hung out of his mouth and he had to swallow quickly to catch the drool threatening to slide down his chin. After a lot of digging, his fingers finally found the buried ‘treasure’ and he pulled it out, studying the mysterious object in his palm. 

When he finally recognized it, he guffawed. “It’s a rosebud. Oh, man! I thought you were being all corny and romantic when you asked me to take yer flower!”

Dennis was shaking from trying to contain his laughter. He finally recovered enough to look bashfully over his shoulder. “I put it there only partially as a joke. Mostly, I wanted you to know that I’m fresh, clean, and completely ready for you. I even, um…” He faltered, looking away as his cheeks flushed crimson. When he spoke, Terrell had strain to hear his whisper. “I even used one of Jenny’s douches.”

Terrell’s laughter boomed through the apartment. “Oh, my god, Dennis! Yer priceless! But, ya know, I actually prefer butt sex down and dirty, especially with you.”

Dennis grimaced in disgust but before he could reply, Terrell had buried his face in the nearly bottomless cleft of his bottom and resumed tossing his salad with abandon.

It took longer than usual because he kept having to surface for gulps of air but he had no trouble working Dennis into a frenzy, while lubing up his nubile hole at the same time. When the guy was good and ready, Terrell stripped the shreds of his underwear off and spit into his palm. Lubing up his pole, he asked, “You ready, stud? There’s no goin’ back after this.”

Sweat dripping down his torso, Dennis arched his back and spread his knees wide, flaring his huge buttocks outward and pushing backward. “I want you,” he gasped. “I want you to take me!”

Terrell smiled. Under normal circumstances, he would have smirked with triumph because nothing got him going more than a white boy begging to be fucked. But Dennis was so sweet, so innocent, so unfailingly tender that it melted his heart…a little. Not enough to turn him maudlin or to make him take it easy on the dude. Fuck, no! He was gonna use, stretch, and otherwise ruin that hole so that Dennis would never be satisfied with a lesser cock. No, from this day forward, Dennis would be too loose and vacuous to be fucked by a small dick. His hole would only be fit for Terrell’s monster. He would make Dennis his bitch, his property, his hungry little cockslut!

He didn’t bother with coaxing Dennis’ hole with a couple fingers first. He didn’t need to! The dude might be an ass virgin but he was also incredibly eager to be fucked. When Terrell thrust his engorged monster through the soft folds of that inflated ass and positioned his cockhead over that tiny button, Dennis surprised him by rocketing backward. Soon it was Terrell, not Dennis, who was screaming at the top of his lungs as that incredibly tight sphincter clamped down and commenced choking his poor trouser snake.

It was a fight of life or death!

But Terrell was up to the challenge. Dennis might have the tightest hole he’d ever fucked but Terrell was a pro and soon was pounding that virginal man pussy so hard that his thighs grew sore slapping against his giant ass. Not to be outdone, Dennis braced himself, leaning down and eating the carpet to stifle his moans. When Terrell exploded inside him, he left him crying tears of euphoria and agony. He coated his insides so thoroughly with his seed that he knew the poor guy would have a lot of work cleaning himself out. Somehow, though, this only deepened his satisfaction.

Ever the conscientious top, he didn’t savor his climax and instead leaned forward to coax Dennis up onto his knees while keeping his still-hard erection lodged inside him. Dennis complied, allowing Terrell to pull him up and back until his wide and now vacuous bottom straddled his lap. Terrell nuzzled into the nape of his neck, helping to shift and reposition his massive ass cheeks more comfortably on top of him. He felt his cock stiffen anew when he realized the dude’s butt was so big it spilled out over the sides of his legs, sagging down to the carpet. 

Dennis Agema had a truly mega-sized ass!

He looked over Dennis’ shoulder, savoring the view of his tight, rippling torso narrowing down to that tiny waist, only to blossom into a pair of a widest, phattest thighs imaginable. Even though the guy was super hung, those soft, milky thighs made him look like he had a peanut between his legs. He grinned, reaching under his lover’s beefy arms to peel back the waistband of his beleaguered jockstrap and liberate the leaking hose concealed within.

Dennis braced, a frisson of pleasure vibrating through his body (and making his meaty thighs wiggle in the most alluring fashion.) Terrell grasped that fat cock and started jacking him slowly while teasing him with micro thrusts, jibbing and jabbing his prostate and generally driving the poor guy crazy. His strategy worked: Dennis’ moans grew in intensity until he was squalling like a baby. Terrell thrust even harder and Dennis screamed.

“I knew you’d take to da bone,” he bragged, licking Dennis’ ear. “I know a cockslut when I see one.”

Dennis whimpered his assent, lifting his mouth to find Terrell’s lips. They kissed, Terrell’s tongue dominating Dennis’ mouth in much the same way that his cock was dominating his ass. The sweat from their bodies commingled, lubing them up. Soon, they were sliding against each other as Terrell drove his way home, totally conquering Dennis in every way. When Dennis’ cock finally erupted, spewing how cum like a volcano over his glistening torso, Terrell chuckled.

Dennis Agema was a bottom. And big, fat, slutty bottom. 

And he belonged to Terrell.

***

“What is happening to me?”

Terrell looked up from the bathroom sink, smiling at Dennis’ reflection in the mirror. They had just showered off, Terrell treating Dennis to a long, slow fuck under the hot spray of the shower as the bottom-heavy dude bent over, clutching the safety bar beneath the showerhead and crying out with happiness at the sensation of a huge, fat cock slapping away inside him.

“Whaddaya mean, Bae?”

Dennis paused, mouthing the word ‘bae’ questioningly. A heartwarming smile spread across his face as he understood the term of endearment. He paced over to Terrell and folded his arms around his middle, leaning into his back and kissing his ear.

“I mean why am I…homosexual? And what is going on with my, um, buttocks. They are getting so big!”

Terrell moaned softly when Dennis’ tongue massaged his earlobe. “Why question it? Yer with me and yer happy…” His voice trailed off before he added, “And I am happy, too. I am glad yer gay and I’m most especially glad you got that huge-ass booty!”

Dennis was silent as he absorbed these words. Terrell could tell he was pleased by them from the rapid hardening he felt against his thigh where Dennis’ big cock was pressing. Finally, Dennis shook himself, asking, “What about Jenny, Terrell? Even though she doesn’t know…what we did, I’m still hurting her. She is my wife. I pledged my loyalty to her when we married.”

Terrell’s face wrinkled. “‘Pledge your loyalty’? Geezus, Dennis! We’re not living in the Middle Ages and yer no knight. People fuck around on each other all the time these days. And they did back then, too!”

“It still doesn’t make it right.”

“Then make it right,” Terrell stated, suddenly sober. What he said next surprised even him and he was almost as taken aback as Dennis by his words. “I want you, Dennis. I want you all day, every day, for the rest of my life. I want you to be my husband.”

***

Chapter 8

After Terrell professed his love that night, Dennis went home and told Jenny that he wanted a divorce. It did not go well and Dennis returned to Terrell’s apartment in tears, holding a suitcase under an arm. Terrell took him in, consoling him and doing his best to help him understand he’d made the right decision. Of course, this led to more mischief and they fucked until the wee hours of the morning.

Their fateful union had twin, opposing effects on their lives. For Dennis, it meant the end of his fortunes as a favored son. His marriage was over, his friends rejected him, the minister of his church asked him to leave the congregation, his family disowned him and–perhaps worst of all–Haskins fired him from the company. He would have been completely devastated if not for Terrell and he told him over and over how grateful he was to be in his life. It was both sweet and sad.

Dennis’ fall from grace made Terrell feel incredibly guilty. He felt bad not only because he’d caused all of Dennis’ troubles but also because he was profiting from the guy’s misery: The day that Haskins fired Dennis, he promoted Terrell and gave him a huge raise. Terrell now had his own administrative assistant and a private office with a panoramic view of downtown Grand Rapids. He had so many accounts that he couldn’t possibly stay on top of them and hired two sales associates to help him manage the load. In less than a year, he’d worked his way nearly to the top of the company…and landed the hottest boyfriend imaginable. It was so head-spinning that sometimes Terrell had difficulty remembering those days when he’d regretted his decision to move to West Michigan.

The thing that bothered him almost more than knowing he had ruined Dennis’ life was knowing that he owed Jake Hathaway for his good fortune. After all, it was Jake who had hypnotized Dennis, a serendipity that had benefited Terrell beyond reason. If he hadn’t discovered that business card with the hypnotic trigger phrase…well, he would probably have quit his job and returned to Detroit with his tail between his legs. He owed Jake. He owed him a lot!

Terrell forced these thoughts out of his mind, determined to savor his victory without being dragged down by regrets. After all, he was taking care of Dennis. Fuck, the dude had it made now that he was living with Terrell! He didn’t have to work because Terrell’s new salary was more than generous enough to support them both. This meant he could spend the day working out at the gym and visiting the cosmetic surgery clinic, increasing both his magnificent muscles and stupendous ass. What more could a boy want?

He lavished his new boyfriend (fiance!) with the best of everything, buying him a completely new, tailored wardrobe that accentuated his divine booty and burgeoning muscles. Because Dennis’ butt was too big for regular underwear, he bought him a plethora of skimpy thongs in day-glo colors. A thong was the perfect undergarment for Dennis’s expanding butt; barely more than a couple of strings and pouch, it was the only piece of clothing that fit him without having to be custom made. 

To encourage Dennis to wear as little as possible at home, Terrell turned up the heat in the apartment. Nothing popped his cork more than returning from a hard day at work and seeing his beautiful man bending over and scrubbing the kitchen floor, those huge ass cheeks spreading wide and the tiny string of the thong disappearing into that cleft of heaven. Dennis’ hole got almost as much working out as his muscles!

After the YMCA banned Dennis due to his...indiscretion…in the showers, they found a new, more accepting gym where he could workout without being harassed. Favored by amateur bodybuilders, it was full of sweaty, steroidal slabs of beef clad in revealing Spandex. Given the ridiculous amount of muscle-bloat going on there, Dennis’ inflated bottom didn’t, ahem, stick out quite so much and he felt at home. Even better, the size-obsessed dudes didn’t mind if they caught him ‘worshipping’ them in the showers. He quickly settled into a weightlifting routine with Terrell joining him sometimes in the evening.

For the first time in his life, Terrell felt comfortable expressing his sexuality. He came out at work and introduced Dennis to his family back in Detroit. It went much better than he’d expected and his confidence bloomed. (His mother and father welcomed Dennis with open arms but his brothers gave him shit both for being gay and for picking a dude with such a freaky bottom. Terrell countered this by pointing out their girlfriends also possessed exceptionally large butts. ‘So the Springer men prefer big girls,’ he said with a shrug, ‘Why do you care if my big-bootied girl happens to be a guy?’ His brothers promptly changed the subject.) He and Dennis even started walking hand-in-hand when they were out on the town. Sure, people stared and sometimes heckled them but Terrell didn’t give a fuck; he was the happiest man in the world with Dennis Agema on his arm.

For his part, Dennis transitioned smoothly from being a religiously conservative heterosexual to a flamboyant gay man. Oh, there were inevitable bumps (large bumps, especially those on his backside) but he was unfailingly chipper and told Terrell repeatedly he was the happiest he’d ever been. His positive attitude was infectious and made Terrell wonder why he had waited so long to come out. If he’d known it would be this easy and satisfying, he would have done it long ago!

The ease with which Dennis slid into his new life also helped soothe Terrell’s conscience. Whenever he felt a pang of guilt, he consoled himself with the knowledge that Dennis loved his new life and body. If both he and Dennis were happy with the end result, did it matter how Terrell had made it happen?

Unfortunately, this brief period of harmony wasn’t destined to last. It came crashing to an end one evening when Terrell returned home to find Dennis unconscious in a pool of blood outside the door to their apartment. Crying out in alarm, he ran up to his lover’s prone body and turned him over, holding him in his arms and shaking him. Dennis was nearly unrecognizable, his face pulverized to a pulpy mess. His lips were split open, exposing gaping holes where there should have been teeth. He was barely breathing.

Terrell’s vision swam with red with fury as he put two and two together and figured out what had happened: His fiance had been assaulted and left to die. Without thinking, he lifted Dennis in his arms (a feat that he would later wonder at because Dennis was such a big boy) and carried him to the emergency room at the hospital three blocks away.

***

“Do you know who is responsible?” the young police officer asked; they were in a private room waiting for Dennis to emerge from surgery.

Terrell was holding his head in his hands and looked up blearily. It was well past three in the morning and he was worn out from worry and impotent rage. “I don’t but I got some ideas.”

“Such as…?”

“Well,” Terrell sighed. “I caught some guys threatening to beat him up a couple months ago. It could have been one of them.”

The cop nodded. “If you give me their names, I’ll check ‘em out.”

Terrell was opening his mouth to reply when a nurse knocked on the door, pushing it open at a word from the police officer. “He is out of surgery,” he announced. “We’re moving him to a room for observation. He sustained a pretty serious concussion in addition to his other injuries.”

***

Dennis didn’t wake up for two days. When he finally opened his eyes, Terrell cried out, leaping up from his chair and grasping his hands. “Easy, buddy,” he soothed. “Yer pretty beat up. Try not to move.” Dennis moaned, lifting a hand to the bandages on his face but Terrell stopped him. “Don’t. Yer gonna have to wait for the wounds to heal. It’ll be a couple weeks before they remove ‘em.”

“Wha happen ta me?”

Terrell grimaced, squeezing his hand. “Someone–or some people–beat the shit out of you.”

Dennis made no reply to this. Closing his eyes, he lay his head down on the pillow and exhaled.

Terrell knew he should wait but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to find out who had done this! Leaning forward, he demanded, “Do you remember anything? Do you know who did this to you?”

There was a long pause, then: “N-N-No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Terrell clenched his jaw, blinking back tears as Dennis reopened his eyes and fixed him with an agonized stare. He squeezed his hand, saying, “Rest, Bae. Try to rest. We’ll figure this out. We’ll get the bastards one way or another.”

***

The doctors tried to warn him that he might not recognize Dennis when the bandages came off but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his lover’s disfigured face.

Dennis’ stunningly good looks had been erased, transformed into a hideous caricature of his former visage. Gone were his fine features, perfect cleft chin, elfin ears and delicate mouth. Rather than a boyish young man, he now more closely resembled a coarse-featured thug with a bulbous nose, heavy jowls, cauliflower ears, and flattened lips. Only his green eyes remained the same and Terrell had to grab the arm of a chair to steady himself as a wave of disorientation passed over him.

Dennis was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

He put his hand over his eyes, feeling the foundation of his world shift beneath his feet. It would be a few days before they learned that Dennis’ cognitive abilities had been permanently impaired as a result of a brain injury. Not terribly bright to begin with, his IQ now hovered just above sixty, the threshold for mental retardation.

Dennis was watching his reaction closely and finally stirred, asking, “That bad, huh?”

Terrell wiped tears from his eyes and tried to sound positive. “It could be worse. Once the swelling goes down and the oral surgeon fixes your teeth, you’ll be good as new!”

Dennis grimaced, a particularly ghoulish look on his new, flattened face. “S’Ok, Terry. Makes me feel badass.” He reached out and took the mirror the doctor handed him, inspecting the damage. If he was upset by what he saw, he didn’t show it.

“I will refer you to a cosmetic surgeon,” the doctor offered helpfully. “She’s one of the best and might be able to restore, er, something of your former looks.”

Dennis waved this off. “Nah, s’ok, doc. I don’t care what I look like.” He paused and turned to Terrell, fixing him with those disconcertingly clear, green eyes. “What ‘bout you, Terry? Ya think I should get my face fixed?”

Terrell opened his mouth and then thought better of it and closed it again. He was silent for a long time, struggling to find the right words. Finally, he managed to croak, “No, Dennis. I love you just the way you are. I always will.”

***

Terrell waited until the doctor had left them alone before he uttered the words he’d been longing to say ever since he found Dennis collapsed outside the apartment door. While Dennis may not consciously remember who had assaulted him, Terrell had a strong suspicion that hypnosis would draw the truth out.

“Voracious violets.”

Instantly, Dennis’ body went slack in the chair, ugly maw gaping open.

Terrell swallowed. “Who did this to you, Dennis? Who beat you up?”

“Sammie Vanderbroek.”

Terrell’s knees went weak at the sound of that name and he fell to the floor, holding his head in his hands. Sammie! It was fucking Sammie! He knew it! He just knew it! The police had questioned the guy after Terrell tipped them off but he’d come up clean; Dennis’ ex-wife Jenny had vouched for his whereabouts that evening. Fighting back the urge to hunt down Sammie then and there and beat the living shit out of him, Terrell took a deep breath and asked the next most obvious question. “Why?”

“I went back to get some stuff at Jenny’s and he was there. He attacked me. He said the only good faggot is a dead faggot.”

Terrell ground his teeth so hard they hurt. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Was Jenny there, too?”

Dennis nodded. “Yep. She and Sammie are dating.”

Terrell took a deep breath. Now he wanted to kick the shit out of Jenny, too! Somehow, though, he managed to restrain himself. C’mon, Terrell! Be strategic! If a black dude was caught kicking the shit out of a couple of white folks, they’d string him up by his balls! There’s gotta be a better way… 

He stood up and took a few more breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Only when he had recovered his composure did the idea come to him. At first, he discarded it as completely repugnant but he couldn’t quite get it out of his mind. It wriggled in the back of his brain, pestering the edges of his thoughts until he finally stopped resisting and gave in. As much as he hated the idea, he couldn’t come up with a better one.

He knew what to do.

Steeling his resolve, he was heading toward the door when he realized Dennis was still hypnotized behind him. Turning, he looked back at his beloved boyfriend, still struggling to recognize the man he’d fallen in love with. As much as he hated what Sammie had done to Dennis, though, he knew there was no way to undo the damage. Dennis would never be the same and Terrell needed to be Ok with that. When he’d told Dennis that he loved him just the way he was, he hadn’t lied…but it would still take time to come to terms with what had happened.

A sad realization dawned on him then. While Dennis did not deserve to be beaten up, he also was no fighter and didn’t know how to defend himself. If he had known how to fight, he probably could have kept Sammie at bay and escaped with only minor injuries. Yeah, that was it! He needed to toughen up and develop an attitude to match his imposing size. Otherwise, the same thing could happen to him again and next time he might be worse off. As much as he wished it were different, there was no way Terrell could be there to protect him at all times. Now that Dennis looked like a thug, he needed to act like one, too.

He gazed fondly down at his lover, so sweet and vulnerable sitting there before him. His heart twisted in his chest as he pronounced, “Dennis, from now on yer gonna be a total badass motherfucker who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Got it?”

Dennis nodded obediently. As Terrell watched, a subtle change settled over him. Dennis sat up straighter, thrust his jaw forward, pushed back his shoulders, and shoved out his chest; his new demeanor screamed, ‘Badass!’

Terrell smiled. “Good. Yer gonna shave yer head into a military cut. And get tattoos. Lots of tattoos.”

Dennis nodded again and Terrell felt his cock twitch in his pants as he imagined these changes.

“And start taking boxing lessons. Ya gotta be able to fight and fight dirty.”

Another nod and Terrell erection was in full swing.

He reached down to massage it as he uttered his final instruction, the one that would do more to alter his lover more than all of the previous ones. “And when ya go back to that gym, hit up one of those bodybuilders for some ‘roids. Yer gonna start juicin’ and juicin’ hard. Yer gonna get fuckin’ SWOLE!”

***

Jake Hathaway’s eyebrows lifted when he found Terrell standing at the door of his office. He recovered from his surprise quickly, though, and ushered him inside, saying, “Terrell! I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon!”

“It’s been two months,” Terrell mumbled, stepping past him to enter the building. Inside, the office was unchanged. The same beat-up old desk and uncomfortable chairs, the perennially dripping coffee pot.

Jake smiled. “Really? I guess it has been awhile. The months all run into together in the winter.” He paused and motioned for Terrell to take a seat, saying, “Now, what brings you here? The last time I saw you, you threatened to call the police on me.”

Terrell scowled but nonetheless settled into the proffered chair.  “Still not a bad idea but that’ll have to wait. I got a problem that only you can solve.”

Hathaway’s eyes lit up as he sat down behind his desk. “I’m listening. What sort of…problem…would only I be able to solve…” His voice trailed off before he brightened, saying, “Oh, I’ve got it! You want someone hypnotized, don’t you?”

“Yer a regular fuckin’ Einstein,” Terrell muttered, rolling his eyes. Why did Jake have to be so handsome? He hated the way his cock responded to the sight of the big, studly guy. If he was going to get out of there with his dignity intact, he would need to be fast. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “An asshole by the name of Sammie Vanderbroek beat the shit out of Dennis and I want him punished. Bad. Can you help me out?”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up at this news. “Dennis? Really? That’s awful! I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure yer real broken up about it. Same as yer all broken up about what happened to the rest of yer boys.” When Jake gave him an injured look, Terrell added hastily, “But that’s alright. That’s why yer the perfect dude to take care of Sammie. I know what yer capable of and nothing’s too bad for my lil’ Sammie.”

Hathaway steepled his hands on the desk thoughtfully, lost in contemplation. Finally, he stirred and gave Terrell a brief smile before stating, “You know that nothing I do is without a cost, Terrell.”

Terrell blinked. He’d been expecting this but hadn’t expected Jake to be quite so bold. “You made that clear the last time we talked. What do I gotta do? Suck yer cock? I’ll do it if that’s what it takes.”

Jake laughed, repeating, “‘Suck my cock’? Oh, no! As much as I would love that, the price is higher. Much higher.”

Terrell stared at him, setting his jaw. “I’ve made up my mind and I don’t care what the price is. I’ll pay it.”

“Really? Wow! That was easier than I thought!”

“Dennis is worth it,” Terrell spat vehemently. “I will do anything for him. Anything.”

Jake Hathaway’s eyes danced in the dim light of the office. He leaned forward, face breaking into a wide smile as he announced, “It’s a deal then. Bring me this Sammie and I will handle the rest. I will make him pay and I guarantee you won’t recognize him the next time you see him.”

***

Chapter 9

Sammie Vanderbroek

Sammie awoke to a smack across his face. Eyes snapping open, he stared up at his assaulter in surprise. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being in bed at home…

“Stand up.”

The man looming over him was backlit but he could tell from his outline that he was a freak. Hair styled into a tall mohawk and slender form outfitted in what appeared to be some kind of harness, he reeked of alcohol and other odors Sammie didn’t care to name.

“I said, ‘Stand up!’” the man barked.

When Sammie continued to stare up at him unmoving, rough hands dragged him to his feet. Two…thugs…the size of bulls held him by the arms. In the dim light, Sammie could make out their heavily tattooed visages. Glinting light confused him until he realized it was reflecting off metal. Lots and lots of metal. Both the scrawny guy standing before him and the two muscle freaks holding him sported massive, savage piercings all over their bodies. Their noses, lips, ears, nipples, and further down… Sammie blanched, jerking his gaze upward and closing his eyes.

There was a loud snort. “Yeah, you’ll want to close yer eyes,” the skinny guy growled, “for what’s coming next.”

Sammie eyes flew open. “Why?” he demanded. “What are–”

CRACK-CRUNCH!

A fist smashed into his face and his head snapped back. He saw stars. Blood filled his mouth and he was suddenly chewing on broken teeth. White hot pain seared through him and he screamed, only dimly aware that the crunch had been his nose breaking. Swimming in a sea of pain, he lost consciousness for a time, awakening some moments later when his clothes were being shredded from his body.

He lifted his head, blood dribbling out of his mouth, pleading, “S-S-S-S-Stop!” Pieces of teeth rained down from his pulpy lips. His voice sounded dull and distorted coming out of his mangled mouth.

“There is no stopping,” his captor spat. “You will never be the same.”

With that, the man violently ripped off his underwear and Sammie howled in fear and pain as his big, soft cock flopped free. The brutes held him fast as the scrawny man chuckled, producing a syringe filled with a viscous, green liquid. He held it out, grabbing Sammie’s cock in one hand and jabbing the needle in with the other. Sammie bawled as the vile solution burned inside him.

It got worse.

No sooner had the man injected his cock with the stuff then he was jamming the needle in both of his testicles. There was a second delay before the agony exploded in his crotch, coursing through his body and sending him on a ride through hell that culminated with his unconscious body slumping to the floor.

***

Terrell Springer

Terrell was too preoccupied with Dennis’ changes to notice his own. He could be excused for this; Dennis was changed so rapidly after leaving the hospital that he was nearly unrecognizable. The man he was becoming was a far cry from the svelte, handsome supermodel he’d originally fallen for. But that was just fine with Terrell! 

He paused to admire the huge, bold tattoos running up Dennis’ mighty arms and the way his jaw thrust forward like a silverback gorilla during the rutting season. Adding to this impression, his thick brow jutted out in a simian fashion. His movements were slow and deliberate and self-assured. Like a true alpha. A thug, through and through. No one pushed Dennis around anymore, even Terrell was finding it difficult to assert his authority over him. It was both disturbing and exciting at the same time!

Smiling fondly over at the big brute, he asked, “You sure you wanna double-dose, man?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?”  Dennis lifted his giant shoulders in a shrug. Terrell felt a thrill race down his cock as he watched those swollen deltoids bounce up and down like basketballs. Since his assault, Dennis’ voice had become dull and thick, much like him. (His intellect had yet to recover and probably never would. For the rest of his life, the doctors said he would remain dumb as a stump. Terrell was ashamed to admit he kind of preferred him that way.)

“It’ll probably make yer nipples get even bigger,” Terrell observed.

Dennis looked down at his chest, grinning toothlessly at his distended teats hanging like down like udders. “So? Ya like ‘em, don’t ya?”

“Ungh!” 

It was an involuntary, full-body response to the question, accompanied by a spurt of precum that soaked his boxers. Terrell knew that he should make Dennis take it easy with the steroids but he was enjoying watching him change into a roided-out apeman so much that he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until his lover was a slobbering beast with muscles so inflated he had to walk sideways through the doorway.

Dennis staggered to his feet with some difficulty. Between his bodacious booty and swollen muscles, he was having more trouble with balance. Terrell reached out to steady him, surveying his burgeoning boyfriend with pride. Wearing only a dirty jockstrap, Dennis’ hulking thighs exploded out from his sides. His slim waist had disappeared, replaced by a protruding ‘roid gut. And his pecs were so big and heavy, they sagged downward, further augmenting his teats. His neck had been engulfed by his traps and his ears, already flattened by Sammie’s beating, had grown even bigger. His green eyes looked tiny, almost beady, above his bulbous nose and beneath his sloping forehead. 

Taking note of Terrell’s loving gaze, Dennis’ ugly mug scrunched up in an expression of bovine delight as he commanded, “C’mere.”

A wave of sexually-charged euphoria flooded Terrell’s system at the guttural bark. The next thing he knew, Dennis’ huge, rough hands were taking hold of him and shredding his clothes from his body. In no time, he was standing naked and exposed before his very aroused lover.

This time it was Dennis’ turn to grunt his appreciation as he drooled over Terrell’s nude body. Pausing to wipe the back of his hand across his deformed mouth, he jammed his thumbs through the waistband of his jock, snapping it like a rubber band and releasing the coiled monster within. 

Terrell’s eyes goggled at the sight. If anything, his lover’s cock was even bigger and fatter than before he started taking the steroids. It shouldn’t have been that way! Usually, guys’ equipment shrank when they juiced but Dennis was an exception. Oh, sure, his manhood had taken a hit from the ‘roids–his formerly glorious balls had shrunk down to the size of cherry pits–but somehow that only made his dripping rod appear even bigger.

Something about the glint in his eyes made Terrell dance away when Dennis reached out to take him in his arms. It was a feral look, filled with wanton hunger and absent of even a trace of submission. “Uh, uh, uh!” he tsked, wagging his finger at him. “I’m the top and yer the bottom, remember?”

“Wanna fuck!” Dennis growled, batting Terrell’s hand away. “Wanna fuck ya NOW!”

“Dennis,” Terrell warned sternly. “That’s enough.”

His lover backed down but not before casting him a look of such bitter reproach that Terrell felt a pang of guilt. Mollified, he hugged Dennis’ vast bulk against him, whispering, “Maybe someday, Denny. Maybe someday I’ll let you have my ass but I’m not ready yet. ‘Sides, you’ll fucking split me open with that thing if we don’t work up to it first!”

He was about to say more when he noticed something on his wrist. Puzzled, he lifted his hand, examining it closely. Tiny, black letters in a language he didn’t recognize were written across his skin. He wet a finger in his mouth and rubbed it across the writing, trying to erase it. Strangely, the writing didn’t smear.

“What is that?” he wondered aloud. “A tattoo?”

Terrell’s skin was dark but the underside of his wrist was lighter than the rest of his body and the design of the tattoo was very visible. Fighting back rising confusion/panic (and Dennis’ amorous advances), he extracted his iPhone from his discarded jeans and snapped a picture of the writing. He was attempting to translate the foreign characters when Dennis got fed up with waiting and knelt down to commence sucking his cock.

“Ooh-Ungh-Oh!” Terrell moaned, struggling to push him away. 

It was no use. His lover was hungry for cock and he wanted it now! There was nothing Terrell could do but throw back his head and enjoy the ride as Dennis devoured his member, treating him to an exuberant blowjob that made him forget all about the mysterious tattoo. For a while at least. Only after Dennis was in danger of wearing the skin off his cock did Terrell wake up to the fact that something was wrong.

He wasn’t getting hard. Even worse, he wasn’t anywhere near cumming.

Confused, he gently pushed Dennis’ mouth away and stared down at himself. His eyes confirmed his suspicion: His trusty cock was only half-hard. No, make that half-filled. (?!) He wrinkled his brow in consternation as he realized his cock looked more like a partially-filled water balloon than a throbbing member. There was no firmness to it at all! Shit, not only wasn’t it firm, it was mostly empty.

With shaking hands, he reached down and touched it, recoiling in shock at the alien sensation.

His cock should have been hard as a rock! He never had any trouble getting stiff. Far from it! He got hard all the time and was constantly shoving his erection down his pants to keep it out of sight. And he could stay hard for hours at a time, giving Dennis some of the longest and hardest fucks known to man.

And even when he was flaccid, his cock was at least spongy!

Not now.

That his skin was limp and listless was bad enough but the fact that the tissue inside his cock appeared to be dissolving made his situation even worse. He grabbed it, waving it up and down in a desperate attempt to resuscitate it.

It didn’t work.

If anything, his dick emptied out further and Terrell was forced to stop flailing it around. He dropped it, face growing pale as the limp, flabby thing drooped down between his legs like an half-empty bladder, a half-empty sleeve, a half-empty bag of skin…

He blanched, stomach falling and heart twisting in his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him? What the fuck was going on? Raising his head, he saw that Dennis was staring at him with a look of excited expectation, not unlike a boy on Christmas morning. He clenched his jaw, realizing the big idiot had no idea that anything was amiss.

Taking a deep breath, he marshalled the last of his quickly waning reserves of civility, saying gently, “I gotta take a rain check on the BJ, Bae. I need to see a doctor!”

***

Sammie Vanderbroek

Sammie came to as they were shaving his head. He sputtered awake, shoving off the hands that held him down. Or at least he tried to. The hands holding him too strong and, he realized belatedly, he was in chains. There was nothing he could but lie there and sob as his thick, blond locks were shorn off.

“Yer hair won’t grow back.” It was that hateful freak again, the scrawny man with the mohawk, tattoos, and infernal piercings. “Yer gonna be bald for the rest of yer life. Bald everywhere. Not even yer pubes’ll grow back.”

Sammie willed himself to remain silent; he wasn’t going to give his captors the satisfaction of breaking him. But he couldn’t help gasping in horror at these last words and he cried out, “Why? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!”

This was met with a snort of derision. “‘Why?’” his tormentor repeated. “‘Cuz yer a skinhead, that’s why. And now everyone’ll know it. When we’re done with ya, yer gonna be nothin’ but a skinhead freak.” He paused, waiting for Sammie’s agonized wail to taper off before adding, “For. The. Rest. Of. Yer. Life.”

The clippers went silent and the rough hands holding him down eased up. It didn’t matter, though. Sammie’s beautiful hair lay scattered about the floor beneath him. He collapsed, inadvertently inhaling it; his shorn hair stuck to his bloody mouth and filled his nose. He didn’t care. He was in too much pain, too humiliated, too filled with despair. Only in the distant corners of his mind did a voice cry over and over, ‘What is happening to me? How did these people capture me? Where is Jenny? Where are the police? I have to get free! I have to get free before–’

“Time for yer tats.”

That horrible voice fell like shards of glass into his ears. Whimpering, he lifted his bruised cheek from the filthy floor and stared up at his captor, pleading, “Please, stop! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you anything! I’ve got money! I’ll pay you! I’ll–”

The disgusting man cut him off. “Money? Do ya know how much I’ve been paid to do this? There ain’t no way ya could possibly pay me enough. ‘Sides, I’m enjoyin’ myself. When I’m done, yer gonna look the same on the outside as ya do on the inside…Freak!”

The rough hands were back. This time, hauling him to his feet and depositing him in a nearby barber chair. Sammie tried to fight but the chains around his wrists and ankles held him fast and he was too weak. In the end, he had no choice but to lie back in the chair as they tightened the chains around his chest and legs. Soon, he couldn’t move at all…which, of course, was the point.

There was a brief moment of silence while he lay there, chest heaving and tears streaming down his cheeks. Then he heard it.

A sound behind him.

The telltale buzz of an ink gun.

He reacted violently when he felt a prick on the top of his head. The needle lifted from his head and he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his vision. He barely had time to brace before the fist smashed into his jaw, shattering the bone and sending him into blood-drenched stupor.

The needle returned, pressing into his scalp and filling it with permanent ink.

***

Terrell Springer

The doctors could find no cause of the mysterious dissolution of his erectile tissue. As the days passed, it grew limper and limper until it was nothing but an empty bag of skin in the vague outline of his formerly magnificent cock. It sagged there, pathetic and laughable, a mockery of a man’s penis. Flattened out, it was more than five inches wide and a foot long but, rather than being impressive, it looked freakish. After all, what guy had an empty bag of skin between his legs?

He didn’t figure out Jake Hathaway was the culprit until he awoke one morning to discover tattoos now covered both forearms up to his elbows. He held up his arms, staring at them in disbelief. The strange writing curved around his wrists in an ever-growing spiral, tracing its way up his arms. With panicked premonition, he kicked off the sheets and looked down at his legs, groaning in despair when he realized tattoos covered his lower legs from his toes to his knees. The handiwork was so detailed he had to squint to decipher it; viewed from a distance, the ink looked nearly solid black.

Terrell moaned, trying to figure out how this could have happened. Then it hit him:

He couldn’t remember anything from the night before.

The last thing he remembered was leaving work at six o’clock and heading over to the gym to meet up with Dennis…but he had no memory of actually making it to the gym. There was a big, blank spot where his memories should be. 

And there was something else. Emerging like a specter from a mouldering crypt, his parting words to Jake at the end of their first meeting haunted his mind:

I’m a top and will remain one as long as my dick gets hard!

As long as my dick gets hard…

As long as my dick gets hard…

He screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. He hadn’t realized it at the time but Jake had taken his careless words as a personal challenge. His skin grew clammy and his pulse spiked as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. There was only one thing that explained his deflated cock, garish tattoos and gap in his memory and that thing had a name: Jake Hathaway.

Jake Hathaway was hypnotizing him and ruining his body!

Even worse, Terrell had practically begged him to do it. The last time he’d seen Jake, he implored him to seek revenge against Sammie and had told him that he would gladly pay any price. At the time, he’d thought that price would be monetary or sexual but now he saw that Jake had interpreted it differently. He was exacting his price from Terrell’s body itself, turning him into a perverted plaything, a freaky toy…

Taking his face in his hands, he sobbed aloud. Beside him, the vast mountain of flesh that was Dennis stirred. “Terry?” he rumbled. “Wah’s wrong?” He tried to turn onto his side but couldn’t; his huge muscles weighed him down, keeping him cemented in place on his back.

Terrell forced himself to remain calm as he replied, “It’s nothin’, Bae. I’ll be fine but I need to visit someone before we go to the gym. I’ll meet ya there, Ok?”

***

Three hours later he found Dennis sweating and grunting on the gym floor, wearing only a tiny thong. He was doing squats, lowering himself so far down that his giant peach cheeks split wide open, exposing his well-used hole, bisected tantalizingly by the tiny string running up his crack. The delectable sight was enough to snap Terrell out of his sour mood, temporarily at least. He halted, crossing his tatted arms and admiring the view. Dennis spotted him standing behind him in the mirror and let out a bellow of delight. Several of the other muscle bulls working out around them turned and eyed them before going back to lifting.

As arousing as Dennis’ huge ass and stretched-out hole were, they were also a sad reminder of everything Terrell had lost. He swallowed bile as he recalled his meeting with Jake (at least the part of the meeting he could remember before Jake had uttered the hypnotic trigger phrase again, sending him back into oblivion.) ‘Your days as a top are over, buddy,’ the big ex-marine had informed him with a self-satisfied grin, ‘and yer skin belongs to me. I’m gonna cover every inch of yer body with tats…except yer hands, neck, and face, that is. I wanna keep ya lookin’ respectable ‘cuz I need people to think yer squeaky clean. Can’t do that if I ink up yer face.’ He’d paused to snort, adding, ‘Not that I don’t wanna, ‘course. You’d look so hot with tats on yer face!’

Terrell sighed with resignation, looking down at his bare arms where the tattoos now reached up to his shoulders. On his legs, the situation was even worse; the tats had crept all the way up to his crotch. And speaking of his crotch…

“Grrrrr,” Dennis rumbled in a deep, sexy bass, “Daddy Bear wants his cub!”

“His cub?” Terrell repeated, laughing despite his mood. “Since when are you my daddy bear and I’m a cub? Neither of us are hairy enough to be bears!”

Dennis didn’t reply. He was too busy tugging Terrell by the waistband of his shorts into the locker room where he wasted no time shoving his hands down his underwear. He froze, though, when his fingers touched Terrell’s crotch. Eyes going wide, he mouthed the word, ‘Wow’ before letting out a loud whoop.

Terrell cheeks burned. “I shoulda known you’d be happy,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Looks like yer day as a top has finally arrived, Bae. Maybe we–”

He never finished. He couldn’t! It wasn’t possible to talk when Dennis was manhandling him into an empty stall in the showers and tearing off his clothes. The big brute didn’t stop until Terrell was naked, his tatted arms and legs on full display…along with the hideously bloated bag of skin swaying ineffectually between his legs.

This was Jake’s parting gift.

The reason he’d sent Terrell into a hypnotic trance once again.

He had finished his handiwork and transformed Terrell’s cock into an enormous–and completely useless–bag of silicone, inflating it with the viscous liquid and making it nearly impossible for Terrell to conceal within his trousers. When he’d awoken from the trance seated in his car, the crotch of his shorts had been ready to explode. The mere act of walking had become a serious challenge, to say nothing of the additional weight.

Terrell had paid the price for Sammie’s takedown and he’d paid it in full…a full, distended bag of silicone that had replaced his manhood, that is. He thought about this, wondering if it was worth it, as Dennis bent him over and jammed a fat finger into his virgin hole. Terrell let out a startled yelp and struggled to get free, but Dennis was having none of it. The huge brute spat in his palm and slathered his giant pole, ramming it with gusto inside Terrell’s captive sphincter. Soon, Terrell was howling at the top of his lungs as Dennis road him like a prize filly, his new giant sac of silicone slapping him in the face the whole time.

I guess I deserved this, Terrell thought when it was over, waiting for his vision to stop swimming as what felt like gallons of Dennis’ hot jizz trickled out of his newly vacuous hole. He was sore all over but especially in his nether regions. Despite all this, though, he managed to lift his head and smile up at Dennis. His giant ape of a lover smirked proudly down at him, huge pole still hard and dripping. 

Terrell sobered when he remembered that this was going to be his lot in life going forward. His days as a top were over; the only way he could cum now was with a fat cock slamming against his prostate. He dropped his gaze and shuddered when his eyes landed upon the hideously bloated bag of cockskin on his lap. 

This is what I get for being so damned cocky, he thought bitterly. I got what I deserved.

He froze in fear a moment later, though, when Dennis flipped him roughly onto his hands and knees, forcing his ass to stick out salaciously behind him. “If yer gonna be ma bottom bitch,” he drawled, “yer gonna need a bigger ass. And I know just the doc to give it to ya…”

***

Sammie Vanderbroek

The next week passed in a bloody blur for Sammie as his body was defiled, deformed, and disfigured by his captors. He ran out of tears after a few days which was good because the next day they tattooed the whites of his eyeballs, staining them blood-red and turning him into a demonic ghoul. When they drilled the titanium spikes into his skull, he thought he’d finally hit bottom…but then they split his cock down the middle with a razor and cauterized the bleeding halves with a red-hot poker. The skinny man caught his tongue when he opened his mouth to scream and split it in two as well, giving him a forked tongue like a serpent. Sammie was descending into unconsciousness when the man lifted the still-glowing poker and pressed it into his forehead. The air filled with the stench of burning flesh and he lifted his head, wailing at the top of his lungs, blood from his split tongue spraying onto the ceiling.

It was a long time before he recovered and when he did, he wished he was dead. He couldn’t stop his feverish mind from cataloging his so-called modifications, though.

A forked tongue and a forked penis.

Spikes in his skull.

Piercings through his septum, eyebrows, lips, nipples, ears, scrotum, taint, and asshole.

Giant plugs stretching his earlobes down to his shoulder blades.

Huge, thick rings around his balls.

And speaking of balls, the shit they’d injected had made them swell up to the size of basketballs. They hung down heavily, making his knees buckle and eyes water with pain. He had no idea how he would walk with balls that big, much less how he would conceal them in public! But then again, he had more than his giant balls to worry about because his tormentors hadn’t stopped there. No, they were far from done with him!

They had covered him with tats. Tattoos everywhere. Tattoos over every part of his body. Ugly, hateful, bold, racist and homophobic tattoos. His face. His neck. His balls. His ass. Even his asshole. Everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere. 

He hung his head as he looked down at himself. He couldn’t feel despair anymore. It was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Despair had given way to depression which had given way to numbness. When the skinny man appeared before him, sneering with derision, he barely registered his presence.

“Time for you to see yer new self, Freak!”

He pulled a full length mirror across the stained and filthy floor, pushing it so close that Sammie couldn’t look away. He willed himself to close his eyes, to drop his gaze, to turn away. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t resist the sick and depraved fascination that compelled him to stare at the freak in the mirror.

The freak who was Sammie Vanderbroek.

His blood-red eyeballs widened at the beast leering back at him.. He choked on a sob when he saw how his formerly fine features had been smashed beyond repair. His nose was flattened and his lips were torn; the gaps of his missing teeth were visible beneath the tattered flaps. When he tried to comprehend the extent to the ink, piercings, and gauges, he rebelled. He gagged, willing himself once again to look away but he was transfixed.

Devil.

He was a devil.

He’d been turned into a fucking devil!

“There’s just one more change, Freak,” the skinny man hissed, startling him out of his revulsion by holding up a syringe, “before I release you to yer new master.”

Sammie shuddered, trying feebly to pull away but it was no use. The syringe was already plunging into his neck and he knew no more.

***

Terrell Springer

Jake Hathway appeared unannounced at his apartment one evening after Terrell’s whole body (except for his neck, face, and hands) were covered with tattoos. He surveyed Terrell’s inked body and obscenely bulging crotch with pride, smiling broadly and clapping him on the back.

“Never looked better, my man!” he praised. “Never better!”

Terrell crossed his arms and glared up at him, spitting, “No thanks to you, asshole. I hope you’re happy.”

Jake nodded. “I’m ecstatic. I’ve never seen the physical manifestation of the ‘Kama Sutra of Gay Sex’ before. Yer a priceless work of art now, Terrell! And I can’t wait to try out every position on you.”

Terrell looked down at his tattoos, eyebrows rising. “This language. It’s…Sanskrit? You tattooed my body with the fucking Kama Sutra!?”

The big man nodded again. “Yep. And it’s far more…interesting…reading on you.”

“Oh, go fuck yerself.”

For some reason, Jake laughed heartily at this while Terrell fixed him with a withering glare that only seemed to heighten the man’s amusement. When he finally stopped chuckling, he revealed, “While there is lots of fucking in our future, that’s not why I’m here.”

Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me, asshole. Why are you here?” 

“Why, to make good on my pledge.” Sweeping his arm outward, he stepped aside to reveal a wooden crate behind him. 

Terrell stared at it, backing away slightly when the crate began to rattle. He opened his mouth questioningly and then closed it again when Jake flipped open the front of the crate, revealing the animal crouched inside.

Or at least Terrell thought it was an animal at first. Upon closer inspection, though, he realized it was human. Just barely. His eyes widened with shock as his beleaguered brain tried to figure out what he was seeing.

What appeared to be a naked man crouched inside the crate, staring balefully out at Terrell with a feral glint in its inhumanly red eyes. Terrell swallowed, noting that the thing’s hairless skin was covered with tattoos, piercings, spikes, and other unholy objects. Its face was disfigured due to a broken nose, shredded lips, and a shattered jaw. Huge plugs filled its earlobes and its balls…Shit, its balls! They were the size of fucking basketballs!

That’s wasn’t all.

Terrell’s skin broke out in a clammy sweat when his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the crate and he registered what had been done to the thing’s cock.

It had a forked penis!

The creature opened its mouth and Terrell blanched, grabbing the door frame to steady himself when he saw that it sported a forked tongue! As he stood aghast, the thing made a croaking sound reminiscent of a human voice but its mouth was so deformed that it was hard to understand him.

“Aw, don’t be shy, Sammie!” Jake teased, kicking the thing in the balls and making it whimper in pain. “C’mon out and meet yer new master.” He paused to snort before continuing, “Oh, I forgot! You already know Terrell, dontcha?” He smiled and turned to Terrell, urging, “Go on! He’s all yours. I never fail to deliver on a promise.” When Terrell remained frozen, he barked with laughter, chiding, “Aw, c’mon, Terrell! Don’t let his racist tattoos fool you! He’s been modified for your pleasure. I made him queer as shit as well as obedient. He’s just dying to fuck ya with his double dick!”

It was true. 

When Terrell looked back at the creature that had once been Sammie, he could see his forked cock had grown long and hard, each half curling away at the base like a revolting banana peel. He swallowed, belatedly reading some of the profane tattoos covering the thing’s body. They made his stomach turn. The most prominent tattoo, though, wasn’t a tattoo at all: The numbers ‘666’ had been branded on Sammie’s bald, spiked forehead. The huge, upgly scars were outlined with fire-red ink, making it impossible to miss them, even amongst the myriad of other lurid tattoos.

666.

The sign of the beast.

The mark of Satan.

He backed away from Jake and the Sammie creature, holding up his hands and stuttering, “N-N-N-No thanks, Jake. You can have him. I don’t want him!”

Jake shook his head. “Sorry, man. You bought him, you keep him. That’s the deal. And, speaking of deals…”

Terrell looked up sharply at him, chest clenching with dread.

“…the last part of our deal is on you,” Jake continued. “Yer my new marketing director. That’s why I kept yer face and hands ink-free. I need ya to recruit men to work for me at the factory and only a fine, upstanding man such as yerself can do that for me.”

“Wait! What?”

But Jake was already leaving. 

“Report work in the morning,” he ordered. “And enjoy yer new pet. Try not to get poked too hard, though. He’s a horny little devil.” With a final snort of laughter, he was gone.

***

Epilogue

Terrell and Dennis took Sammie in. What choice did they have? He was in no condition to live independently, much less be seen in public. His giant balls served perfectly as a tether, preventing him from wandering far, and his freakish tats, spikes, piercings, and other repulsive modifications were guaranteed to frighten away even the most kind-hearted bystanders. Jake was right: Sammie belonged to Terrell now and he proved to be a surprisingly loyal ‘pet.’

It took some doing but, acting in his new capacity as Jake’s, ahem, marketing director, Terrell managed to ensnare a physician. The guy was as beautiful as an angel and possessed such a lightning-sharp intellect that Terrell almost felt guilty when Jake hypnotized him and prepared to send him down the spiraling path of debasement and deformity. He intervened, though, before Jake dumbed the doctor down and convinced him to let him ‘borrow’ his expertise. That night, the hypnotized physician repaired Sammie’s shattered jaw and battered lips, granting him the ability to speak once again. Sammie had to spend several weeks with his jaw wired shut and forever afterwards talked with a distinctly reptilian hiss…but at least he could communicate intelligibly.

“Lovesssss my masssster,” he hissed, wiggling toward Terrell on his giant testes like he was riding a hopper ball. “Lovessss him ssssso much.” He flicked out his tongue and licked the side of Terrell’s face, making him laugh. Dennis intervened, though, when he started to pull down Terrell’s sweatpants and grab at his buttocks.

“Mah ass,” he grunted, shoving Sammie away. “Terry’s ass mine!”

With Sammie looking on enviously, Dennis reached out and massaged Terrell’s newly inflated butt cheeks. Dennis had been forcing him to go to the clinic on a near daily basis as his new obsession with growing Terrell’s ass took over their lives. It had gotten so bad that Jake had been forced to make him stop, worrying that if Terrell’s ass grew any bigger, he would have trouble passing as the wholesome guy that Jake needed him to be in order to lure in new ‘workers.’ It was already challenging enough finding pants that concealed his silicone-filled cock bag!

Terrell didn’t mind having a huge ass too much. He’d come to terms with his new role as a cum-hungry bottom and quickly ceded dominance to Dennis. It gave him a thrill being submissive to the big brute and he had grown particularly fond of being manhandled and raped by his lover’s huge, pulsing organ. Nothing got him going quite like being pounded from behind by Dennis while Sammie face-fucked him with his twin cocks. The way that mutilated organ twisted and twined inside his hungry mouth, tickling his vocal chords…Ungh!

That day, however, Dennis had other plans. Perhaps inspired by the way Sammie was forced to lean forward over his humungous testes, displaying his tattooed rosebud, Dennis tossed Terrell aside and shoved the mutant freak roughly forward on his balls, spreading his inked cheeks wide. The piercings glittered down the length of his taint like the lights on an airport runway, guiding Dennis’ “737 MAX” home. Soon Sammie was howling with pleasure as the muscle bull assailed his hole.

Terrell watched them with a mixture of pride, desire, and longing before shrugging and peeling off his sweatpants. Positioning himself on his hands and knees with his butt in front of Sammie’s ugly mug, he pushed backward, parting his massively-enhanced cheeks. Cool air caressed his manhole and he unpuckered, inviting his pet inside. His enticement worked and soon Sammie’s forked tongue was working perverse wonders, tossing Terrell’s eager salad like a pair of fleshy tongs.

Sure, it’s a weird, fucked-up life, Terrell thought as he writhed in ecstatic bliss on the carpet, but it’s my weird, fucked-up life and I love it.

***