The life of a lowly intern–first into the office, and nearly always the last to leave–it was well into night by the time Wade freed himself from his menial work, packed some things up in his briefcase, and started the walk home. It was friday night and the streets were busy–he had to pass through a hub of bars and small concert venues to get to his apartment, and while he always imagined on Fridays that he’d just go straight from the office to the bar, he was almost always too tired to do much beyond walk home and fall into bed–he could always go have some fun on Saturday night, right? Miranda had seemed to enjoy their last date–maybe he’d give her a call and see if she wanted to go out, if he wasn’t too tired. Fuck, twenty-five, and he already sounded like he was middle aged.
He turned into an alley which cut between a brick wall and the back of a small nightclub…though the clientele seemed a bit strange tonight. Usually there were a few straight couples smoking out back, talking quietly, but as he walked down, he saw that the small crowd was all men, and they seemed to be especially…fetishy. Leather, rubber, guys on their hands and knees in dog masks. It was almost enough to convince him to turn around, but there was no reason he couldn’t skirt the edge, right? He moved around the group, and felt everyone…staring at him. As he tried to escape the crowd around him, someone inside shouted, “Hey Greg! There’s one, out back.”
Some odd light covered Wade’s body for a moment, holding him in place, and then it was gone a second later. He stopped, trying to figure out what had just happened…and why he was so much colder all of a sudden. He looked down at himself and quickly saw why–he was nearly naked. The suit he’d been wearing (Suit? Had he been wearing a suit? It seemed…hard to imagine, him in a suit…) had simply disappeared, and in its place he was wearing a leather bulldog harness, a leather jockstrap, and two boots–nothing more. He gawked at himself, and then looked at everyone else around him–their eyes…some looked at him eagerly, but others…it looked like pity, or maybe just resignation.
“Did I get him?”
“Fuck yeah, your aim is impeccable.”
“Oh please, it’s just the guidance system, but thanks anyway.”
Two men emerged from the club, both of them nearly six and a half feet tall, heavily muscled, and wearing identical black leather uniforms. The men standing around and smoking all ducked back into the club almost immediately, aside from a few who hung back, and Wade tried to figure out what he had been doing. He’d been going home, right? Or…or had he been in the club…this whole time? He felt rather uncomfortable, his body bared for these two men. He wasn’t in very good shape–or rather, he had almost no shape at all–and the harness did nothing to hide it. He wasn’t exactly fat–though he did have a bit of a potbelly. More, he just looked like he spent his days behind a desk, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about the men in front of him…he’d never felt much attraction towards men, but suddenly…looking at these two huge muscle gods, he’d never felt this horny in his whole life.
“How’s the ratio in there?”
“I’d say make him a sub,” the other replied, and lifted up the strange looking gun he had in his hand, adjusting some of the knobs on the side, “Can always use more subs, right? Any preference?”
“Eh, surprise me.”
Before Wade could ask what was going on, the man pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger–the same light enveloping him as before, and disappeared a moment later–leaving him mostly the same, but with…several differences. His…physique, for one thing, and gone through a remarkable improvement. It looked like he had spent hours in the gym, bulking and building muscle–but with a sudden loss of height, he’d become a stout fireplug. Unfortunately, as he’d grown bigger, his cock had shrunk to a nub, while his balls had exploded in size, each nearly as large as a lemon, forcing the jockstrap to bulge out. With a grunt, unable to control himself, Wade dropped to his knees, the man with the gun releasing his seven inch cock from his pants. Wade felt drool immediately start flowing from his mouth, and he walked forward on his knees and swallowed it to the hilt.
“Nice muscle pig.”
“Thanks–he’s got a very nice mouth too. But try squeezing his balls.”
The other man knelt down, reach down and gave Wade’s sack a squeeze–immediately Wade felt a series of spasms and grunts wrack its way through him, his tiny cock releasing a massive amount of cum right into his jock.
“Dang, that’s pretty sensitive man–like, what would happen if I did…this?” He stood up again, and delivered a solid kick right to Wade’s massive balls with his boot.
It hurt–it hurt so much that he crumpled to the ground away from the cock he’d been sucking and curled up on the ground, but the pain eased away and pleasure took over–his cock pumping out blast after blast of cum for half a minute, his seed soaking and overflowing the jock he had on until it formed a puddle on the pavement beneath him as he shivered, grunted and groaned.
“He could go further though.”
“What would you suggest?”
“How about a complete pain pig? Piercings, tattoos.”
“I could see that, but what if we–”
He had to get out of here. he had to get away from these guys, but even if he did, he’d just be trapped like this…wouldn’t he? Wade took a few deep breaths–the men were still talking…or plotting, rather, what to do to him. The man’s grip on the gun was loose, and a plan formed in his mind. He rolled over slowly, to his knees, and as quick as he could, grabbed the gun from the man’s hand, and before either of them could stop him, he fired the gun at them both, watching their nuts swell in their pants–perfect targets. While they both gawked at their crotches, he pummeled each of them into submission, until they were sobbing on the ground, their cocks pumping cum into their pants, and then he took off running as fast as he could towards home, gun in hand–praying he could figure out how to fix what they’d done to him.
Bracken's Corner 