The Fetish Gun is Loose! (Part 7) [Interactive]

Sorry for the slight hiatus! Life is getting a bit hectic at the moment.


Now that Rick had a pair of boots, like he should–he could even feel the two of them gently massaging his feet, hungry for his sweat and stink–he turned his attention back to the gun, and noticed that one part seemed to be emitting some sparks. A bit concerned, he tapped the side, where a panel had popped off slightly, tried to push it back into place, but when he did, there was a sudden surge of electricity that slammed into him, and he stumbled backwards into a booth and slumped down, unconscious for the moment.

The gun hit the ground, and when it did, the sparks seemed to be getting worse, the gun shaking and spinning on the ground, arcs of yellow electricity leaping in every direction, building up into one large spray of light that shot out of the gun, slamming right into a young man on the dance floor, and sending him stumbling several feet away. He’d arrived to the bar dressed in jeans and a western shirt, and had been an early target of the gun’s creator, making him a bit more…country flavored, with a lip full of chaw, cowboy hat on his head and cowboy boots on his feet. Now, where he was sitting on the floor, feeling rather out of sorts, he looked…quite a bit older than he had before. His face was weathered from years spent outside on various ranches and farms on the rural side of the state, though he liked to come over to the city regularly to let loose at the bars.

A younger man walked over to help the old cowboy daddy up, but as soon as he touched him, there was a static shot that leapt off of the daddy and sunk into the young man, and he began to change as well, his skimpy club clothes becoming well worn jeans and a long sleeve shirt like the man on the ground. More changes followed, a full goatee around his still young face, one lip full of chaw just like the man he helped up–just like his daddy. They embraced, the son glad his dad was alright, and then looked over to where the gun was still spraying sparks and light–just in time to see another blast launch off in a different direction, where it hit a glass on the bar, and it refracted into a wide swath of light, catching two bartenders and the whole wall of liquor in its path.

No one noticed any changes right away, until an older fellow grabbed their affected drink from the bar and took a sip, not noticing as years began to melt away from his face, his body shrinking lightly and becoming more toned, his hips and booty catching the beat on the dance floor as his clothes shifted to something much more revealing. Soon enough, the new twink had finished his drink and joined the throng on the dance floor, though the gun wasn’t finished yet. There was one more blast of light, this one was a wide swath cutting low along the ground, catching several tables and chairs in its path, the furniture beginning to shake and rattle–along with the people sitting on them–and the wood and cloth they had been made off began to warp and discolor, until they were all made from leather and rubber stretched over metal frames.

Before anyone sitting in them, or near them, could do anything, the leather and rubber had come alive, and was wrapping itself around the men sitting on them, or dragging nearby men into a sitting position. They all struggled at first, but as the leather and rubber dissolved their clothes and replaced them, they all began to moan and grind into the strange furniture. Some of them were absorbed entirely, becoming human-esque chairs and tables held in bondage, quaking with desire. Others were simply covered by the substances, their minds warped with new, kinky desires. One in particular, Now a rubber covered gimp wearing a gasmask and covered with leather straps, eyed the gun they had noticed send off the light, and then the rest of the room.

On the floor, the gun had stopped sending off sparks, finally, and the small screen on the side was flashing–Critical Error!–Reboot and Repair. The gun shutdown, and glowed for a moment, as the nanites buried inside went to work, repairing the damage from the fight, and after a few moments, the gun was back to normal–and back online–ready to be used by whoever picked it up next.


Who gets a hold of it next?

  1. Davie sees the commotion and reclaims the gun.
  2. The new twink from the dance floor gets it–he’s looking for a daddy play with–and decides to use Rick, still passed out in the booth.
  3. The rednecks get hold of it, and want a few more guys for their family.
  4. The gimp gets it, and makes himself a rubber master, and decides to use Davie.

Here’s the twitter poll

Here’s the Patron only poll

Voting ends Thursday!

Something…odd’s been going on with my roommate, Titus, lately. We were getting along pretty well–he was an athlete but not too much of an asshole about it, and I was a pretty run-of-the-mill college student. Both of us were looking for girls, and he decided to rush a frat…but I wasn’t really that interested to be honest. The frat challenged him and a few other pledges to a panty raid on a sorority. I don’t know what happened, but the next morning I woke up and found him passed out, face down on his bed, in just a pair of the strangest looking underwear–a bit like a jock, made out of mesh. I saw the pouch when he rolled over–or I suppose, the lack of one. I could make out every vein on his cock–I blushed and covered him up, but ever since…

I think he might be gay, for one thing. I don’t have anything against fags, but it’s just…a surprise. He seemed so obsessed with women before, but I’ve caught him jacking off in our room to gay porn a few times now. His body is changing too–away from his stocky build to something a bit trimmer, his ass fuller, his body hair going away as well. He shaved off his goatee and trimmed his hair down, picked up a lisp–you see what I mean, right? It all started with that sorority, so…so I think I’m going to go over there, and find out what happened to my roommate.


Fuck, I have to stop this, I have to. I don’t remember what happened at that place–I just woke up in my room the next morning, wearing the nastiest pair of boxer briefs I’d ever seen. The crotch was stained and crusty with cum, they reeked of piss and musk…and I haven’t been able to take them off for days now–I can barely manage to get them down to piss and shit, and I have to cum in them…and I’ve been cumming a lot, thinking about…about Titus’s ass…

It’s right there–he’s not really asleep, he’s just…pretending. Needs…daddy to breed him good. 

No! No no no, I’m not some fucking daddy! I might look like I’m in my 40′s, and I have so much damn body hair now it’s not even funny, but I’m not a daddy, fuck those bitches…but I…I am so damn horny, and the boy’s ass is right there…

The boxers slip down, and my seven inch, uncut cock springs out, dribbling cum already. Maybe…just one fuck. Feel the boy’s hole one time, and we can both stop this damn charade. He don’t need no damn school, not when he can strip for a livin’, payin’ his daddy’s bills…fuck! He’s so damn tight! Yeah boy, moan for daddy–think I’ll be renting this hole out to a few of my friends tonight!

Patreon Commission: Liam’s Grandfather

I met Liam’s grandfather by accident. The two of us had early release from high school on Wednesdays, and we’d usually go to this little cafe in town for coffee and to work on our homework. We’d been friends since kindergarten, and lived down the street from each other. Both of us were on the swim team–tall, lean, and generally hairless. He’d hung around with each other for so long, some people would mistake us for blonde haired, green eyed brothers, but Liam…Liam had been acting a bit strange lately. He told me that a few months ago his grandfather had moved in with his parents, because he couldn’t afford the mortgage payments on the house he’d been living in across the country, and while he hadn’t told me anything in particular, he was just being…well, it made more sense once I met his grandfather myself

So anyway, we get to the cafe. It’s early afternoon, after the lunch rush, but the place is still busy. We get in line to order, when Liam looks around and spots his grandfather sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He freaks out, and says we have to leave before he notices us. I don’t get what the big deal is, but then we hear a loud, gravelly voice calling Liam’s name, and it’s like someone flipped a switch, and Liam is calm as can be, even…happy.

He waves at his grandfather, and without ordering he heads over to where the old man is seated. I don’t hear what they say, but then his grandfather grabs Liam’s chin and pulls his mouth down, and starts making out with him right in the middle of the room, and no one says a thing. That was the strangest part. Telling you about it now, sure, it was fucked up. No one kisses their grandfather like that. But when I was there, staring right at them, it seemed like the most normal thing in the world. It didn’t bother me at all.

I knew what Liam liked to drink, so I ordered for the both of us and then took them over to the table where his grandfather was sitting. They didn’t pay me any mind, and as I watched the two of them make out, I started to get…kind of jealous. Now that I was closer, Liam’s grandfather…he suddenly looked really sexy. That bushy, untrimmed beard, the gut hanging out the bottom if his shirt. A real sleazy sexy. I mean, I know…I don’t feel that way right now, but when I was close to him, I just…the thoughts were just–there. Obvious. And I was jealous. How lucky was Liam that he got to live with a hot daddy like that?

I think I cleared my throat or something, but they broke off the kiss, his grandfather smiled up at me, a couple gold teeth in his mouth, and my heart started pounding as he looked me up and down. He said, “Oh Liam, now where have you been hiding this handsome young man from me?” and I swooned into him. He had smoker’s breath, I didn’t care. I told him my name, he tweaked one of my nipples through my shirt, and I nearly came in the front of my jeans.

Liam was furious, and pushed me away, placing himself between us, blurting out something like, “He’s no one Gramps, just a friend.” Then he said he wanted to show him something, and pulled off his shirt in the middle of the cafe revealing two freshly pierced nipples, and also dropped his pants. He was wearing a jockstrap, and he turned around, showing his grandfather his bare ass, which I saw had a tattoo on it which I had never seen before in the showers after swim practice. His grandfather whistled, and when Liam turned back around he nodded approvingly and pulled Liam into his lap. I wished that I had something I could show off, Liam’s grandfather looked so happy, twisting his grandson’s tits, pulling him close, reaching around to knead his ass. He let go long enough to unzip the fly of his pants, letting his cock flop out. It was huge–I’d never seen one so thick, but before I could do anything, Liam was on his knees, sucking on the head, moaning.

I was hurt, but he beckoned me closer and we made out. One of his hands was on the back of Liam’s head, the other reached down the back of my pants, fingering my asshole. Between kisses, he’d tell me how hot I’d look if I was a bit…edgier. Some piercings, maybe a tattoo. Then I’d be fuckable. He said I’d be fuckin’ irresistible. I came, two of his fingers deep in my hole, grinding my crotch against the side of his gut, his tongue running it’s way around the inside of my mouth. He gave a couple of grunts, and then he was filling up Liam’s mouth. Liam had, at some point, started jacking off, and at the taste of his grandfather’s cum, he shot his own load across the ceramic floor of the cafe.

Then we got up, like nothing strange had happened. We all sat at the table and had our drinks, flirting, vying for his attention for a couple of hours, and then he excused himself, and waddled out of the cafe. As he left, the horror descended on both of us. I couldn’t even look at Liam, I just stood up, grabbed my bag, and fled. I couldn’t tell anyone. Who would even believe me? Hell, everyone in the cafe had just watched it happen, and no one had done anything! No–I was bound to take the reality of what had happened to the grave.

Liam and I grew distant. Everyone at school was talking about him, how he’d turned into a bit of a bad boy. He got more tattoos and piercings. He shaved his head down to the skin. He was smoking cigarettes and failing his classes. I knew why, of course, but the worst part was…that I want it to be me. Fuck, I want it to be me so badly. I know he’s disgusting, I know it’s wrong, I know I’m straight, and yet all I can think about is him.

So that’s why I need these tattoos and piercings. That’s why I can’t ask my parents. I…I heard you’d bend the rules for…for a blow job. I could…do that. You look a bit like him, if I squint.

***

I’m on Patreon! If you’d like to see more stories like this, help me out with a monthly pledge here, and gain instant access to a massive archive of unreleased stories.

Commission ~ Roadhouse Men (Danny Boy)

~July, 1986~

Dan’s old sedan rattled a bit as it drove down the two lane highway. Surely he should have hit Sparksville by now–had he missed the turn off? The road had been winding quite a bit, and he was no longer certain whether he was even heading East. The convention was in Chicago in a few days, but he’d been hoping to hit a few stops along the way to check in on some customers, but it was looking like he might be lucky just to get to the convention on time. When he saw a neon sign up ahead, flashing “Ed’s Roadhouse and Inn”, he breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully they could at least show him where he was, and help him get back on the proper highway. He pulled up in front of the building, grabbed his map from the passenger seat, and took it in with him to see if anyone might be able to help him out.

Apparently, men started drinking pretty early, wherever he was now. The bar was already loud with drunken laughter, and he could barely hear the old Dolly Parton single in the jukebox scratch away in the corner. Surprisingly enough, there was an empty spot at the bar; Dan walked up, laid out the map, and waved over the bartender. The older man, chubby, balding, but with a face that flipped between youthful and aging at a whim of the light, say him wave, poured a draft walked over, and set it down in front of Dan, and was off filling another order before Dan could ask him anything. Scowling, Dan waved at him again, but he was deep in conversation with a regular. Dan sipped at the beer, was surprised at how nice it was, and decided that he might as well stay for a drink before continuing on. In fact, it was getting late–maybe the inn had a room for him, and he could worry about getting back on the road tomorrow.

He settled in at the bar. No one engaged him in conversation, but the atmosphere, and the beer, did wonders to lift his mood. In fact, by the end of the first beer, he was positively giddy–the bartender came over, set another down in front of him, but this time stopped to chat.

“I haven’t seen you here before–what’s your name?”

“Oh…it’s Daniel. Hey…uh, I was wondering if you could tell me where I am?”

“You’re at Ed’s Roadhouse.”

“No–No, I mean, on the map–” Dan said, but realized he no longer had the map with him. Where had it gone?

“What map?”

“I had it here, I did…”

“You’re about twenty miles south of Sutherland–that help?”

It didn’t.

“I’m heading for Chicago.”

“Ah–big city man.”

“I’m a salesman actually, there’s a convention.”

“A lot of hot guys in Chicago too–you can have some fun at night too.”

Dan was taken aback–guys? The bartender winked at him and slipped away before he could answer. Put off, Dan looked around the room and had a realization–this wasn’t just a bar…this was a faggot bar. Some of the rugged men had paired off and were making out in dusty corners. He was pretty sure that one guy was getting a blowjob by the jukebox. His stomach knotted–this place was probably infected with AIDS. He’d fucking taken a drink from that faggot! He got up off the barstool and tried to head for the door, but a burly man dressed in biker leathers–most likely a bouncer–pushed him back. “Where you goin’ so fast?” he said, “You weren’t about to leave without payin’, were you? Sit back down–Ed will settle up with you.”

Dan shouted an obscenity, the bouncer shoved him back onto the barstool and stood behind him, keeping him there. Dan found himself nervously sipping at his second beer, against his better judgement, and by the time the glass was half empty, he’d forgotten to be so concerned. Everyone was just having such a good time here! He kind of wished he could have a good time too, but he wasn’t gay.

Ed came back up to him when the second beer was gone, Dan swaying a bit in his seat, his mind in a happy haze. “Hey, big city man, most of these guys aren’t interested in stuff like this, but I just got imported a high grade Absinthe out of Europe. I haven’t sold any yet, but it’s pretty fantastic stuff–how’d you like a glass?”

Dan was all too happy to nod his head, but he wasn’t quite sure what he’d just agreed too. Ed set down a glass, set a spoon across it with a sugar cube on it, and then started slowly pouring drops of an emerald green liquor over the sugar, where it dribbled into the glass below. He was fascinated by the stream, and couldn’t peel his eyes away from it. He’d heard stories of absinthe, debaucherous stories from post-war Berlin. He’d been disgusted at the time, but now this whole idea seemed somehow so exciting and adventurous. The sugar had all dissolved, and Ed took away the spoon. The room was silent; all of their eyes had moved to Dan, but he was oblivious. He had heard that absinthe could cause one to hallucinate, but he hadn’t even drank it yet–how could it look like liquid emerald and still be real? He lifted the glass, trying to leave the surface as undisturbed as possible, with no ripples or waves, and took a sip. Anise, bitter, the sweet sugar, it rolled over his tongue and down his throat like quicksilver. He took another drink, this one larger and longer, and drained it on the third daught.

“Alright boys! Oldest gets the first fuck! Raise your hand if you’re over eighty.”

Way too many hands went up in the room. Dan didn’t hear the call for licenses and proof of age, he was running his tongue around his mouth, trying to figure out what the shape of it was. He felt…smaller, somehow. Lighter, like he could fly. He’d heard tales of fairies appearing in absinthe haze, but it couldn’t be striking him this fast, could it? The back of the bar was mirrored. He stood up, but was too short to see himself clearly; he climbed up on the barstool, balancing on his knees, and refused to believe that the young slender man, more of a boy really, balancing in the glass could possibly be him. Had he…become a fairy? He reached up and felt the clean, green hair cascading down to his shoulders, ran a hand along his graceful, smooth jaw line, unbuttoned his baggy shirt and saw his lean torso and abs. All he seemed to be missing were wings, and yet, on his knees on the barstool, he could almost imagine himself levitating, and then a drunk biker, heavy gutted with a grey beard and furry belly, came up behind him and picked him up effortlessly, chuckling, and pulling him close.

“Hey boy, how about you come on over here–we’re all gonna have some fun.”

Dan looked at the man’s lined face, his speckled beard. He was so handsome–such a daddy. He reached up with his soft, small hands and ran them through the man’s beard; the touch surprised him, and reddened his cheeks while Dan laughed. “Some…somebody likes what he sees,” he said, but was that really his voice? It was so high, with a lilt or even a lisp, and yet he could see something in the man’s eyes, a reflection of himself, almost like he could see how the man saw him. Young, pure, loving. He was all of those things, and the man reluctantly set him down in the midst of the men. Ed was off with a few white bearded men who were all disputing each other’s ages, and the rest were staring at Danny, like he was a void. Like they were trying to fill him with all of their longing, with all of their desire, and Danny took it all in, his own cock hardening at the thought of these men filling him. He could be empty. He could hold their wishes and…and their cocks. Yes, oh could he take their cocks! He singled one out, and slipped up to him, wrapping a slender arm around his shoulders, the man smelling mint and anise on Danny’s breath. “You wanna fuck me daddy?” he asked, and laughed, “I love being fucked by daddies, you know…”

“Now now, hold on Danny Boy,” Ed said behind him, “Don’t you want to have some fun with the oldest first? Jerrod here, he’s eighty-one, but goodness, does it look like he wants to fuck you…”

Danny looked at Jerrod, a short, somewhat withered figure with a bulging gut, and a long, matted white beard, a horseshoe of hair behind. Danny could feel the desire, feel the longing. Oh, he could be filled up so full, and Jerrod wanted him. He wanted him more than anyone in the room, he could feel it, and he wanted to be filled by him. The older man pulled him close, and the warmth of the young skin filled his old muscles with strength, he ran his tongue up Danny’s neck, tasting sea salt and fennel.

“I never thought something like you could exist.”

“Fill me daddy, fill me up, I’m everything you’ve ever wanted.”

The men cheered, Jerrod ripped down the ill fitting jeans that clung to Danny’s now slender waist, revealing the curve of his hip bones, a wisps of green around his cock and balls, but Jerrod had only one interest, reaching around, one old finger slipping into the young slut’s hole. Danny gasped, allowing himself to be pulled closer into Jerrod’s grip, sucking the older man’s tongue into his mouth, grinding up against his hairy body. The room was a blur, everyone tinged green. The energy of the men around him, he could feel the ebb, he could sense the need of these men to fill him, but Jerrod first, Ed told him Jerrod first. Ed was different. Ed was…the energy flowed around everyone else, but it went through Ed. He was a hub, he was controlling it, controlling Danny, as he spun around, dropped his ass a bit and let Jerrod work his cock into his eager, young hole.

The drink, this had to be an hallucination. He couldn’t focus on anything beyond that old cock in his ass, filling him after a few minutes with a load of cum, and then, as soon as Jerrod pulled out, two more men, just as old, were surrounding him, one sliding into his ass, while the other guided his head into his crotch, letting Danny suck his impotent cock back to life, giving him a taste of that youth he’d lost, man after man taking from him, giving him. He was for them, he thought. All of this was for them. All of him–his youth, his body–was for them. The room filled up with green, and he remembered almost nothing else until the morning, when he awoke to a pounding headache on the sawdust floor of the roadhouse. He groaned, his ass hurt, what the fuck had he drank last night?

“You finally up, Danny Boy?”

Ed, it was Ed–the bartender. He pushed himself up, but his arms were so thin and fragile. He wasn’t drunk, and yet that same lightness he’d felt in the room was still there, but it was just the fact that he’d lost so much weight. He’d never been this thin in his life, he was thin, and yet he, for some reason, was behaving like all of this was somehow normal. He was naked, why was he naked? Ed was behind the bar, cleaning glasses. Handsome, fuck. Did Ed fuck him last night? He hadn’t actually looked at him the night before, hadn’t paid much attention to him at all, but that beard speckled with grey, the muscular body coated with a firm layer of fat. Suddenly his cock was hard, and he was stroking it. He was walking up and taking a seat, smirking, his young lips curling, watching Ed watch him move. “I…I think you need to tell me what’s…what’s going on, Daddy…” Danny said, unable to keep the sex from his inflection.

Ed set down the glass he was cleaning, reached out and wrapped his hand in the back of Danny Boy’s green hair, and pulled him over the bar into a deep kiss. Answers could wait; Danny wanted him. He reached out rested his hands on Ed’s shoulders, moaning into his mouth.

“You dumb slut,” Ed said.

“Shut up and fuck my boy hole, I fuckin’ need it.”

“You always fucking need it.”

This should be wrong. He shouldn’t be getting up on the bar, letting Ed spread his ass and start licking his hole, but fuck, that’s what he fucking wanted. Ed climbed up after him, they fucked doggie star on the bar. Danny would watch their reflection for a few minutes until the dysphoria drove him to look away, but his eyes would always creep back to himself. To that hair, to that young toned body, to Ed, balls deep in his ass with unfocused eyes. He was almost there. Danny tightened up and felt the cock pulse inside him, and Ed slid out, gave him a kiss, and told him he should get to work before they fuck the day away.

Danny swept the bar–mostly. In the end, they fucked most of their time away anyway. And when men started arriving, Danny served them drinks, flirted, and if they paid enough–or were old enough for a freebie–he’d slip into the back with them for a bit of personal attention. And that was the way it was for a couple of years, until Ed decided he’d like to expand his collection further.

Bait and Switch (Part 2)

He was back in the ether again, facing Bruce bare across the strange space, and this time, he had no hesitations about approaching him. He wanted him–badly. However, this time, their cocks didn’t connect. In fact, their cocks passed right through one another, as though they were ghosts. The contact they did make was at the belly–or their belly button to be exact, the two holes coming together in perfect alignment, despite the fact that Bruce was several inches taller than Charles was. The shock passed through him as before, but didn’t throw him back immediately. If anything, he felt even more drawn towards Bruce…and as he watched, his roommate was starting to change. His chubby frame started pulling in, deflating and shrinking a bit, though the muscle grew more defined as it did. His face uncreased, skin looking younger as his hair turned from grey to light brown. But if Bruce was getting younger, than that meant–

Sure enough, Charles looked down and saw that he was changing as well, though in reverse, packing on fat in a generous belly as his muscular frame sagged with age. He did grow taller, feeling his bones lengthen and stretch while Bruce’s contracted, but when the two of them finally were flung back and away, Charles was no longer the young, muscular cub he’d been the day before–he was now a full fledged daddy bear. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be terrified and angry. In this space, he had a clearer memory of the earlier dream as well. Someone–something was doing this to him and Bruce and he had no idea why, and yet, looking down at his new body, he found himself loving it. He loved bears after all, why shouldn’t he want to look like one too? It was already starting to feel more natural, like this is who he was supposed to be, and the grey ether slowly dissolved away around him. Before disappearing however, he caught sight of someone else in the middle distance watching him. It wasn’t Bruce–at least, not the new Bruce, but he knew that there was no way he could reach the man before the dream faded, and even if he’d had time, the ether’s physics would have thwarted him anyway. Instead, he focused hard, trying to commit the image to memory as he fell back into his own sleep, dreams of sex with bears, all bearing the same half-formed shadow visage.

The next morning, while Charles couldn’t find anything immediately wrong with his new, older body, the rest of reality didn’t seem so accommodating. He started the day with a cigar out on the balcony, watching the staff of the bear convention set up for a pool party scheduled for later that afternoon. He found himself wishing he’d known about the other event so he could have signed himself up for that convention too–still, maybe he’d have a chance to sneak in if he was careful. The first troubles of the morning came when he tried to put on his suits–none of them–absolutely none of them fit. They seemed to have been made for someone the size of Bruce–a twink–not for a big bear like himself. Still, he had to wear something nice to the convention, so he squeezed his way into something and headed downstairs, eating a very large breakfast before heading to the convention.

He didn’t stick around for long. Between his discomfort in the suit, his raging cock, and his constant need to break for a cigar back up in his room, he wasn’t all that present anyway. He cut out early to give himself at least an hour for a hearty, greasy lunch. He knew he should eat healthier–in fact, it seemed like just yesterday that he’d been on a strict diet, but he did need to keep this belly fed. He couldn’t have it shriveling up and disappearing on him after all, he liked having one far too much..didn’t he? He spent most of the hour eyeing the various bears eating there as well, and was pleased to see he got as many appreciative glances as he was giving–and again he regretted the fact that he was here for work and not play. Still…what harm was there in taking a break? That pool party was today, why not enjoy himself a bit?

He headed back to his room, wondering what to do. He didn’t even have a swimsuit with him…or did he? He looked at the two sets of luggage on the ground, suddenly unsure of which was his. He’d surely come with a bunch of suits…but then why didn’t any of them fit? Suddenly, the bag of denim, flannel and leather was looking much more comfortable, and digging through Bruce’s (or was it his?) things, he found a pair of XXXL swim trunks, and he was thrilled, stripping out of his itchy, ill-fitting suit and pulling on the trunks, along with a tank showing off his fur, and a pair of sunglasses. He saw on the table a convention badge for the bear convention with Bruce’s name on it…and he grabbed it. He could pretend to be someone else for a bit–what was the harm? From the balcony he saw that the party was already well underway, and with his borrowed badge in hand, no one questioned whether he was supposed to be there, and he lit up another cigar in celebration.

He mingled for a little while, happy to chat, fondle and be fondled for the moment, though he was mostly interested in finding someone to fuck around with in earnest. It was then that the bear caught his eye. He knew him from somewhere, but he didn’t quite know where. He had a sense that he’d been seeing him…everywhere. Was he the guy he’d seen watching him when he stepped on the elevator? Who’d watched him on the balcony last night? The shadow from his dream? His gut told him that it was, but he had no way of knowing for sure. Still, the man certainly seemed interested in him–as soon as Charles had caught his eye, he’d grinned and started over.

“Hey there…Bruce,” the man said, reading the name off the badge with a grin. “Funny, you don’t seem much like a ‘Bruce’ to me.”

“Hell daddy, you can call me anything you want, and I’ll be happy?”

“Oh? Can I call you Carl? I’d like that.”

Confused, Charles just stared at him, not sure what to make of that response.

“Oh never mind,” the bear said, flashing a smile nice enough to make him not worry about it too much. “Still, it’s nice to see you again. You were looking pretty hot last night, though you’re looking hotter right now. Having you down here saves me the trip up to your room.”

“So that was you watching me. You liked what you saw then? You wanna…get a closer look? We…uh, could head up to my room anyway, if you want.”

“Sorry Carl, but we have to wait until after dark–those are the rules.”

Again, Charles was confused. “Why do you keep calling me Carl? And I don’t see why we need to wait, we could just head–”

Charles was stopped by the bear shoving him up against the fence around the pool and giving him a deep, sensual kiss which he happily returned, though the bear broke it off far too soon for Charles’ liking. “There’s a bar close by–most of the bears are heading to an afterparty at a bigger place, but I think we might need something a bit more intimate. Come after sundown–I’ll be waiting.” the bear said, slipping a card into Charles’ hand, “Oh, and one more thing–don’t play with anyone else before then–I want you all to myself, and virgin.”

Charles had many more questions, but the man had left before he could even get his name. He looked around at the bears surrounding him, still horny, but something about what the man had said–or how he’d said it–made the mere thought of sexing any of them up a bit…repulsive. He had to save himself for later after all, just like the bear had told him to…though he wasn’t sure why he was doing what the strange man said. Still, hanging here wasn’t going to be any fun now if he couldn’t play around, so he skulked back to his room, but found that Bruce had returned at some point while he was at the party–and was trying on one of the suits, staring down at it as though it were the strangest thing for him to be wearing in the world, and looking at the young twink, Charles felt a strange possessiveness take over. “Hey! Get out of that, those…those are mine…” The words didn’t feel right. They felt like a lie, but the confusion on both their faces did more to demonstrate the possessive grey area than anything else. In fact, Charles felt like it wasn’t the suits he was being possessive over, but his roommate’s body…but that made even less sense.

“Look…I was…I was just trying one on. Nothing else in here fits me, so I mean–if they fit me this good, why wouldn’t…why wouldn’t they be mine?” Bruce said, hesitantly, and Charles couldn’t deny the fact that he was probably right.

“You’re…you’re right, I think. I’m just…I haven’t been sleeping well, and everything has just been so weird these last couple days.”

“No kidding,” Bruce said, I’ve been having these crazy dreams, and you’re in them of all people.”

Charles just stared at him for a second. “Dreams…do they…are you in this weird grey place, and we’re both naked?”

“Yeah, and then we always come closer, and touch somehow, and things…change…don’t tell me–”

“I’ve been having them too.”

“That’s nuts.”

They were silent for a few moments, trying to figure out what was going on. It had to mean something, but what?

“Hey…have you–have you noticed a guy following you at all?” Charles finally asked, “There’s this guy, this bear, he’s been watching me, or I think, us. I just ran into him at the pool, and it was so weird. He’s tall, older, full beard with a shaved head?”

“You mean like half of you bears here? Sorry, I don’t swing that way, so I don’t notice you when I don’t have to.”

“You don’t have to be mean.”

“I’m sorry, It’s just some men have no business strutting around half naked in the light of day.” Charles rolled his eyes, and yet…something about the sentiment seemed familiar. Like it was something he’d have said, or had said before. Regardless, Bruce could sense that he’d crossed a line, and he stepped closer. “Look, it’s not really any of my business, who you like. I’m sorry. And…now that I think about it, I might have had a run in with someone like you describe. It was pretty weird too.”

“When was it?”

“Two nights ago, the night the first dream happened. I went out for a drink with some…some friends, and this guy came up and started chatting with me at the bar. He wanted to know where I was staying, and he seemed really curious about…well, about you. It was strange.”

The two of them pondered that for a moment, feeling more unnerved by the minute. “Look,” Charles finally said, “I think something really strange is going on. The guy wants to meet me at this bar near here after dark…and maybe we should both go, and try to get some answers from him. I think he knows something about whatever’s been happening here, and we should try to see what he knows.”

Bruce was obviously nervous, but he agreed. Tonight they would have a date with the mysterious bear, and get to the bottom of whatever was going on here once and for all.