Hey there I was wondering if you could help me out. I always been too lazy and shy, I was wondering if you could help me be the confidant, driven, hardworking been in and outside of work, cocky man I’ve always wanted to be.
Shy and lazy? I feel that on such a personal level...
Luckily for you, I have just the trick. Go ahead and close your eyes, and we'll transport you somewhere...
You open up your eyes and are shocked at first to find yourself in the middle of a gym locker room, with a handful of naked musclemen standing around you. Their muscles glisten underneath the bright fluorescents of the locker room, making their musculature pop even more noticeably.
Before you can ask what's happening, you finally feel the immense weight on your entire body. You look down at yourself and hold back a loud gasp at the sheer expanse of muscle that you now possess.
Your body is now massive, looking like it should belong to a competitive bodybuilder. Everything about you was huge. Your arms were so large that they hung akimbo at your side, your biceps resting atop flaring lats. Your pecs were so heavy and cumbersome, feeling enormous and swole as they protruded far out in front of you. To act as a counterbalance, your glutes had expanded to a large degree, looking more like you were smuggling two soccer balls in your pants.
Your inspection was interrupted when you began to realize that the rest of the musclemen in the room were still staring at you, a hungry gaze int heir eyes.
On instinct, you felt yourself start to flex.
Without a thought on your side, you flexed your massive biceps, making the large muscle curl up with power, ellicitng cheers from the other men. You bounced your huge muscletits, letting the large mounds bounce up and down, jiggling with every movement.
You stayed there in the locker room, showing off your muscles for every guy who would look, a cocky smirk on your face the entire time. And you loved every second of it!
But nothing could be more human than falling prey to the desires that have slipped beyond our control. I desired her beyond reason, beyond self-protection, beyond common sense, and it is just as difficult to call that love from afar as it is not to call it love when within it.
— Catherine Lacey, Biography of X: A Novel (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, March 21, 2023)
What I think the Leverage Team is truly afraid of:
Nate: Losing. Not just losing the con- but more importantly losing the team. Of course he never voices it. However the team knows. It's why they always come back. Nate already lost his son, his job, and his wife- can't lose his team. He can't lose his second family.
Sophie: Broken Masks. This may be a jump in the dark- but. Sophie has SO many personas. Mask's she's created all on her own that I don't think she even knows who she is anymore. I think she's afraid of somebody finally figuring her out and that terrifies her. Not only because she'll lose all sorts of control- but she'll think if they figure out the real her, all they'll see is a women that's weak.
Parker: Abandment. She's finally found people who are like her. In a way that of course their different- but still they are like her. These people know what it's like to be alone. To be lost. Having to figure out a way to get out, because it's a way to survive. She's afraid that one day- they'll walk away. Just like everyone else. And I think that's why she pokes and pushes. Trying to figure out what it'll take for them to walk away. They don't.
Hardison: Uselessness. I think this is why he's so outgoing. Why he's so out there and personal with everyone. He wants to be seen as strong. As being useful. I mean- he hacked into Sweden(?) to pay for his Nana's surgery. He felt useful then. Now, he's in a team- and with all these useful members. He's afraid they don't need him. That's why he's tried multiple times to be the mastermind. And of course he fails- not because he doesn't know what he's doing. But because even with the "I know what I'm doing," attitude- he's terrified that he'll do it wrong.
Eliot: The Dark. This I can't explain fully. Maybe it's from the tidbits I hear in conversations. But he's afraid of the dark. Not the actual dark. No. The darkness that's in him and that he tries to keep control of. It's the darkness he had when he was working for Monreau. The monster that was created in him every time he spilled innocent blood. Eliot is afraid that the darkness will come out and his family will see just how much of a monster he is.
Someone who's always composed starts sniffling a little during a work meeting. They know they either have to blow their nose or sneeze at some point so they discreetly try to get a tissue but are suddenly overwhelmed and sneeze supressed-but-still-loud, clumsily and suprised covering with their bare hands.
Vampire Caretaker a usually very kind and humble person, the sort to 'cure their cravings' by opting for synthetic blood created to help the Vampiric population live along side the Human population in unison.
Though sometimes on rare occasions for those who opt for it, these 'cravings' become to strong and the synthetic doesn't quite quench the deep thirst for the real thing.
One evening Caretaker is struggling to fighting those cravings while with their Human friend.
Eventually it becomes to much to bare, Caretaker utters a simple "Run" to their Friend before they unexpectedly lunge at them narrowly tackling them down, but with quick reflexes their Friend avoids the attack, quickly escaping from the area horrified.
Caretaker sits alone with the heavy guilt they feel now mixing with the deep hunger residing inside them.
Song messages in the deluxe version of the ¡Uno! book
Nuclear Family
'Pick a summer... and summer... take a peek at the salt water and who gives a fuck... ya know? That's where this begins'
Stay the Night
'Haven't felt an impulse like this in eons. I guess that heart burn never goes away... just a bit caged'
Carpe Diem
'"Too young to die?" Well I say "aren't all too young to die?" Does the future have enough time to live in the moment?
Let Yourself Go
'How much can I pay you not to finish your story? You keep telling the same story over & over & over & over & over & over & over punch me in the fucking face!'
Kill the DJ
'Ah yes, which leads us to this 4 on the floor. Sometimes I could drink my way through this era. Take pills & fuck the noise away. And dance in the ashes of nonsense.'
Fell For You
'Wet dreams for the middle-fuck crisis. Keep your heart in a box with a lock on it for god's sake!'
Billie Joe also said something similar on the closing night of American Idiot on Broadway: 'Keep your fucking heart young, goddammit. Keep it fucking all comfy all the time. Don’t fucking stop, there’s a reason why that hand is holding the heart. It just keeps squeeze that motherfucker till it still bleeds every goddamn day.'
'I remember you drinking Olde English driving all the way out. Sunbathing at Pinole Shores. My Minnesota Girl. Always.'
Rusty James
'I read your book... it was a piece of shit. You traded that spiked belt in for a killer job at Pete's Coffee. Way to go! By the way, I've always wanted to smash your fucking teeth in. 🖤'
Oh Love
'Love like a good horror film.' / 'The tattoo wore off. More like "Oh well." I talked myself out of you. Even though I was never considered. Tension.'
Frantic fingers spindle across the inky blackness, taking hold of taut strings the colour of poison. You retch slightly as they pull apart in your hands, bursting like blood vessels and staining everything they touch with the stench of death.
You snap wires.
And all the while, his voice bores into your skull, wheeling and dealing even as he tries to kill you. Even as you try your very hardest to give him what he wants.
You snap wires.
SOUL burning hot like a phoenix in its final moments, shooting down offer after offer, pleading with this jittering, broken creature to stop, stop, please stop before one of us does something we're both going to regret...
You snap wires.
You can't remember how long you've been doing this for. You don't even know what you're doing, why you ever listened to his words in the first place. What had he promised in the space between his outbursts... and to whom?
And still, you snap wires. It's either that or die.
So you snap, and you snap, and you snap, and you
snap
Then there's only one left, shimmering in the darklight, so gossamer-thin that you cannot comprehend how it can still support the clanking, man-shaped junk it's attached to. He spins around it like a demented ballerina, professing heartfelt thanks to the friends he was trying to murder mere seconds before. Pleading with you to cut the final cord, to make him a real boy.
Your fingers move before you can respond. And the sound of his cold, lifeless body slamming into the ground stays with you for the rest of your life. The shock is so great that you almost collapse yourself, adrenaline finally loosing its death-grip on your body.
You are wracked with a great and terrible sigh, before you--/
/--snap wires.
...strings the colour of poison... bursting like blood vessels... stench of death.
...you've been here before, you realise, as you snap wires.
He wheels and deals, firing everything he has at you in a vain attempt to get you to give him what he wants. You would if you could... if it had ever been in your power to do so.
All you can do now is snap wires. And that is all you do.
Your fingers move on their own, as if compelled by an outside force. Pinch and twist, reminding you of shelling peas with your mom before Sunday dinner.
You can't recall the last time you saw her. You think that perhaps you should apologise to her if you ever make it out of here alive. You were always such a wilful child. Always getting into trouble of some kind or another.
And now here you were, making deals with something you couldn't even begin to fathom.
You cannot hear your friends anymore - they do not respond to you calls. And the salesman seems to become all-encompassing before you, drunk on ill-gotten power - power you helped him acquire. You close your eyes as he makes you an offer that you are unable to refuse.
Pain washes over you, and you--/
/--snap wires.
Poison... Blood... Death... this could be the fifth time; it could be the five-hundredth time. It doesn't matter, because all you can do is snap wires.
The salesman screams at you, and your SOUL screams back, roaring with anger and pain and frustration. Does it want the same thing as you do? Is it... trying to help? Or... or is this just a game to it. Fighting the same battle again and again, trying for a high score?
You ponder this as it makes you snap wires.
Perhaps this was punishment for trying too hard. For trying to help somebody who seemed to be suffering. You never understood what your mother meant when she told you the road to hell was paved with good intentions. To your child's mind, not yet versed in the world's wicked ways, this statement was a nonsense, an affront.
But now you get it, as you snap wires. Oh God, do you understand.
You always knew he was the same as you. Something BIG had seized his heart, just as it has seized yours. Prisoners of a destiny that was not theirs. You saw a caged bird crying for release, but you did not see the venomous spider using its corpse as a suit. In trying to make him more like you, you exposed yourself to the risk of becoming more like him.
Damaged. Deranged. Desperate. Dangerous.
And as your fingers become snared in his wires, and you stare transfixed into each other's eyes, you see the fate set out before you, and scream.
Tristan really could not stand his roommate. Chad. Even the name. It was fitting for a ruthless jock like him.
Tristan liked Chad best, when he was out partying, which thankfully happened a lot. That meant a Chad-free evening for Tristan, which meant he could read and learn in peace for a change. Unfortunately, that peace usually ended rather abruptly when Chad came home late at night or early in the morning. Sometimes he brought buddies of his along, the same run-of-the-mill jock type who probably couldn't even write down their names without errors. Together, they were usually that noisy drinking and laughing that Tristan would wake up multiple times the night. But those were the good nights.
Other nights, Chad brought home one or two women. Always the same type, blond, big-busted and blockheaded. Tristan had no idea if it was the same girl every time, but he suspected it were different women - although he wasn't sure where all those similar women came from. Regardless of that, all of them had one thing in common: They were *loud*.
Tristan usually woke up from their high pitched giggles when they entered the dorm. Yes, Tristan had an own bedroom, but the walls were paper-thin, and he could usually hear everything. And "everything" meant in this case the moans and cries when Chad took them on his bed - which was just a paper-thin wall from Tristan’s bed. In these nights, Tristan had no chance of sleep and often tried to drown out the noises from the other room by wearing headphones with loud music.
Did it bother Tristan so much because he was gay? Probably! Because he was kind of envious that Chad had a fulfilling sex life? Perhaps.
However, in some ways the days were much worse than the days. Chad was quite possibly the worst roommate in the whole universe. He never cleaned (on the contrary, he *constantly* littered the floor with worn clothes, trash and even dishes) made fun of Tristan in front of his friends because he was gay and, of course, always got in trouble with the administration - last month for smoking in the room!
Of course, Tristan had tried to appeal to the administration to change rooms - or give him another roommate. However, the college didn't seem to care about that too much and they told him to resolve any issues with his roommate himself.
So, that's what Tristan did. Every night he couldn't sleep because of Chad, he began working on a permanent solution for the problem. Tristan was majoring in nanotechnology and had a major interest in data science. The raise of large language models everywhere fascinated him, so he figured he could find a technical solution to his roommate problem.
Finally, after countless sleepless nights, he was finished. All checkmarks were green, and the software confirmed connection to the hardware. His means of revenge were finally ready.
Early the next morning he made a coffee and added the silvery goo of nanobots he created for this. He knew that Chad wouldn't be able to resist it if he just left it on the counter as if he had forgotten it.
Tristan couldn't wait until, finally, the snoring from the other room stopped and he heard Chad get up and throw out his latest bimbo. Now it couldn't be long until...
"Yo, nerd! Your coffee tastes like shit!"
Tristan shook his head. So predictable.
He made his way into the common living room/kitchen and looked at Chad, just clad into some read sweatpants, flaunting his natural good looks. Time to test his invention.
"Well, I'm sorry *my* coffee was not to your liking." Tristan said sarcastically.
"Perhaps you could clean up the dishes around here, Chad. Including my cup of coffee, you drank."
"Or perhaps... no!" Chad said and laughed a dumb laugh. God, Tristan hated just every trait of this dumb brute.
"Could you please do the dishes... ChadGPT?" Tristan asked again with a sly smile.
Chad wanted to tell Tristan to fuck off, perhaps even insult him a bit along the way, but to his immense surprise, he was forced to say in a friendly tone:
"Of course, Tristan. I will gladly do the dishes now, including the cup of coffee that I just emptied." Against his will, his body began to move on its own as he started to collect the dishes.
"What is going on? What are you doing to me? I don't want this!" Chad exclaimed, but apparently had lost all control over his limbs. He needed to resist. He mentally strained against the foreign control, and really, could get his body to stop.
However, the next thing he said was, in the same calm and friendly tone:
"Apologies for the confusion. Apparently, there is an internal issue here. Please wait while the error is being corrected."
To his horror, he could see his hands change in front of him - instead of skin and flesh, they turned into hard skin colored plastic with joints that showed some dark metal underneath. He instantly lost all feeling in his hands. Needless to say, Chad was scared shitless.
"Okay, okay, I'll do the dishes, just stop this!", he begged and quickly resumed picking up the dishes.
The changes stopped and Tristan, who had sat down and enjoyed seeing his invention work so flawlessly, laughed at the scene. Oh, this would be good. What to do next...
As soon as Chad was finished with the dishes, he turned around to Tristan:
"Please change me back! I don't know what you did, but please undo it - look at my hands, that's unnatural!"
Tristan pretended to think about it before saying: "Naaah. Not yet at least. How about you tidy up the whole place first? Including my room, of course. Would you do that, ChadGPT?"
What Chad wanted to say was: "Come on! Don't be like that!". However, out of his mouth came:
"Apologies for the confusion. Apparently, there is an internal issue here. Please wait while the error is being corrected."
The numbness of his hands spread to his arms up to his armpits. They, too turned to plastic, modelled after a muscular, decidedly male set of arms. When they moved, Chad could hear a faint whirring from below the 'skin'. His feet and legs were next, the numbness spreading up quickly. Before they reached his groin, Chad caved.
"Alright, alright. I'll do it, I'll do everything!" And got to work quickly. He just surrendered control. A cold, systematic computational will took over his body and controlled it to systematically clean the whole place, room by room, piece by piece. He moved at a constant speed, never speeding up, never slowing down. Finally, he was done. He had worked up a bit of sweat but was finally finished. Hopefully, Tristan would stop this madness now.
"I've done it, now please..."
"Naaah, I think there's more to do for you. ChadGPT, please do the following: Clean out your room and throw away your stuff, you won't need it anymore. Then, exmatriculate from the college. And finally, send me all the money you have."
Chad was taken aback. What kind of sick joke was that? Tristan couldn't force him to give up his life. He shook his head with all might. While doing so, he said:
"Apologies for the confusion. Apparently, there is an internal issue here. Please wait while the error is being corrected."
This time, the feeling spread over his torso first. His skin was replaced by smooth plastic, with no body hair in sight. His pecs got pronounced and defined, with ridges in the plastic showing spectacular but artificial abs and pecs. Everything was perfectly symmetrical. At the same time, he felt his groin and ass change into a complex system of tubes and hydraulics, hidden behind a smooth removable bulge of plastic that gave the appearance of a large cock when he was wearing pants. His nipples changed to bright red dots, nothing more than colors on his sculpted chest.
The only thing that was left of him was his head, but Chad didn't want to risk that and started doing as he was told.
When he came back from cleaning out his room, he saw that Tristan had fished out his cock from and was idly playing with himself, while watching Chad. Apparently, that pervert even got off to humiliating him. Still, he continued his tasks, looking at Tristan as little as possible. It hurt a lot to transfer all his funds to Tristan, but better that than the alternative.
"I'm finished." He finally said, defeated.
Tristan looked at Chad with a wicked smile, while working his cock with the right hand. Oh, sweet revenge.
"Good. Then you're free to go..." Just as Tristan saw the relief on Chad's face, he added: "...almost. ChadGPT, please come here and give me a blowjob."
Chad's reaction came instinctively and without thinking:
"What? I'm not gonna give you fag a... a... Apologies for the confusion. Apparently, there is an internal issue here. Please wait while the error is being corrected."
No, nooo! He should have just given the asshole what he wanted. Chad's expression became neutral, as his head turned into plastic and silicone, with artificial hair and sharply defined eyebrows. His will was put into the back seat permanently, as his brain turned into a cold computer processor and ChadGPT took over for good. With a friendly, monotone voice he said:
"Of course, Master Tristan."
Chad could only scream internally, as his body, which was turned into some kind of human-like-sexdoll-android kneeled down to Tristan’s cock and activated the fleshlight mode.
Tristan leaned back content. He had solved the Chad-problem and had gotten a new permanent servant with ChadGPT.
Jaune was doing NNN with little difficulty, save for a clear swelling in his balls, he was nonetheless able to do his daily tasks without any issues. But something he didn't think about, was that others would react to this, in ways he couldn't possibly expect, nor prepare for. Particularly, Velvet, as her enhanced nose could pick up the musk coming from his pent up balls, her own body reacting and driving her to act!
Jaune hummed to himself as he went about his daily business, only having a bit trouble of doing things like his morning stretches and the like. He didn’t know why all the guys were bitching and complaining about being incredibly uncomfortable. True, it had its issues, since stretching was a bitch and the threat of sitting on your own balls was a much bigger danger than when you were getting constant release.
But then, he had seven sisters, so he was perhaps more used to this type of discomfort due to the fact that he rarely got to masturbate, since his sisters had very little belief that he deserved the same amount of privacy they felt they deserved. And well, sharing a dorm room with two girls (despite Nora having absolutely no shame) didn’t lend much time for privacy either, as excessive bathroom time would be investigated.
But he wasn’t too bothered by it. When he got restless, he just trained until he was tired enough to sleep. So it wasn’t too much of an issue to him to go without release for prolonged periods of time...even though it was an utter pain in the ass with all the teasing that the girls did, whether unknowingly, like Pyrrha always did to him in the dorms, or knowingly, Coco Adel, a second year did top practically everyone.
But honestly? Beyond the slight discomfort, he couldn’t see why this “No Nut November Challenge” was so bad!
~
Velvet despised the eleventh month of the year, as did a great many faunus women. Why? Three words. No. Nut. November. That stupid challenge that boys liked to do for some reason or another, which only made them not empty their balls, but made their musk increase and potency! She spent all of November needing extra padding in her bra so her nipples didn’t bleed through her shirt, and doing at least one underwear change from how wet she got!
...at least she wasn’t as bad as some other faunus she knew. Blake thought she was being discreet at the hastily carved gloryholes and glorywalls that always cropped up during this month to tempt boys into losing, but she wasn’t.
Even if her ass wasn’t something that was well known to the boys and girls of Beacon (although Velvet knew her own was better) the texture of her tongue and the fact that she wasn’t quiet meant everyone knew how much of a slut she was during the month of November, and the boys with sense took advantage of it, several times a day sometimes.
She shook herself free of those thoughts. They didn’t matter to her, and she just needed to focus on getting through the day. Neither Yatsuhashi nor Fox bothered with it (Coco took her handling of her team’s health very seriously, and was incredibly “Hands On” in her methods involving things like this, meaning that she personally milked them of their cum throughout the month. Honestly, Velvet just thought she should admit she had the hots for being double stuffed and take both as lovers, but that was her opinion on the matter), and her currently tending to them was why she was out and about at this time.
She sighed, before freezing as the most tantalizing musk tickled her nose. Her pupils dilated, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, her skin getting goosebumps, her nipples becoming hard as diamonds in her bra, scraping the material and sending bolts of sensation to towards her clit, which itself had swollen and was rubbing against the rapidly slickening cloth, feeling every single thread brushing against the bundle of nerves, the sudden intensity threatening to take her down to her knees as she sniffed the air, her body following the enticing musk on autopilot.
If anyone had looked closely at her, they would see glistening lines slowly making their way down her inner thighs.
~
Jaune panted as he slowed down from his run, sweat falling down his face as he took deep breaths of fresh air and wiped his face as he got off the treadmill. He was alone and had the run of the place, which was odd, but then, he wasn’t complaining. At least he wasn’t being mocked.
But he needed a shower now before he headed back to the dorms to relax a bit before the bane of homework.
He headed into the locker room, ready to get clean.
~
On some level, Velvet knew that she was being a slave to her own body, taking the ‘back seat’ as it were, and that it was somewhat horrifying on a level that she didn’t want to think about, but there was no stopping her body at this point. She needed this, and she knew that there was no way she could stop it. Her panties were soaked through, and she was drooling from both sets of lips freely, her body driven by her repressed need and physical urges.
Following her nose, she walked into the gym, bare of anyone inside it, following the wonderful musk that was making her body rebel against her. It was more intense, more saturated in here, easily picked up over the other, more stale scents that were in the area, heading towards the showers.
Velvet found her body moving towards the showers, the men’s showers, her hands moving up and beginning to undo the buttons on her top. Velvet knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop herself, she just hoped that it wasn’t a member of Team CRDL…
Her eyes moved around on their own as she entered the showers, and internally she sighed in utter relief as she saw it was Jaune. Her body responded by her pussy flooding even more from need, as she stripped herself of anything that would block her getting what she wanted, and made her way silently towards the naked young man who was nearing the shower heads.
~
Jaune hissed as the warm water washed over him. Okay, maybe he was a little more effected by not getting off than he thought. But it would be okay, he didn’t have too much longer to deal with it. Only a few more days-
Squish.
Jaune froze as softness that could only be breasts pressed against his back, and hands that weren’t his pressed against his belly and slowly slid down his body, making his way down between his legs, one hand cupping his shaft and the other cupping his heavy balls. He made no sound, the words strangled in his throat.
“Hmm, so big...so full…” Juane swallowed as the hands gently fondled him, giving his cock a gentle stroke and hefting his balls up. “Allow me to help you with that~” Jaune found himself spun around to see-
“Velvet!?” he choked out as he saw the cute rabbit faunus completely naked save for oddly enough, her knee length socks, kneeling down and staring at his dick with a hunger in her eyes that startled him. He watched her ears twitch, before she leaned forwards and opened her mouth, extending her tongue and licking a stripe along the underside of his dick.
Jaune’s hips bucked and he bit his lower lip to contain the groan that filled him, his fingers rolling against the ceramic of the shower wall as the lusty bunny opened her mouth and swallowed him.
He couldn’t contain the sound of bliss that escaped him as she bobbed her head fiercely, loud and lewd sucks and slurps echoing through the practically empty shower as she rubbed his balls.
He shook in place as he tried to contain himself. He knew his loads were rather large, and despite the sudden ‘attack’ in the shower by a cute girl (that he would admit that he had fantasized about in the few times he had been able to get off), but he didn’t want to choke her.
But he knew he was going to fail No Nut November from how hard she was sucking on him…
As his eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm erupted through him, hearing and feeling Velvet’s excited, squeaking moan around his dick as she eagerly gulped down his cum, her hands working his balls for more…
...he found he didn’t care. Especially when Velvet stood and spun around and rubbed her bubbly ass against his still hard cock, before taking him inside her wet furnace of a pussy and beginning to bounce against him.
Jaune Arc:
Status: FAILED
Time Survived: Ten Days
Reason/Method For Failure: Velvet’s Mind Being Overcome By His Pheromones
“I’m telling you, Dude,” Justin Howells vented to his workout bud as the both of them ran on the treadmills for cardio day, “his staring is getting to the point where I’m thinking about talking to the owner.”
Justin was annoyed about how when he’d walked into the locker room because he’d forgotten his reusable water bottle, he’d spotted Dave near his stuff. It wasn’t that Dave was a bad guy or anything. The 40ish year old man had been a competitive bodybuilder back in his prime, but after years of no longer competing, he’d grown a sizable muscle gut that gave him more of a bearish appearance— and he’d made it clear that he found the fitness influencer very attractive.
Justin carried on, not only pissed that he’d been under the impression that he’d caught Dave trying to mess with his stuff (he didn’t have any proof unfortunately), but that the ex-bodybuilder was across the gym at the barbells, not even trying to hide the fact that he was blatantly staring at Justin as he ran.
His friend, Mike, just grunted, too focused on his run than anything.
Justin went on though, mainly so that he could clear his head of all the rage he was feeling. “And the fuckin’ weirdo tries to play it off all cool,” he huffed, feeling his meaty pecs bouncing as he continued to run shirtless. “I tried to confront him, but he shoved my water bottle at me, as if he’d known that I’d go back for it.”
“…yeah, isn’t that something…” Mike panted.
Justin rolled his eyes as he grabbed his water bottle, unscrewing the top as he ran so that he could keep his heart rate up. “No lying, man, next time that roidhead messes with me…” he trailed off and took a sip from his water bottle, the cool liquid sending an odd tingling sensation throughout the stud. He ignored it and swallowed, his mouth feeling like he’d just licked a D battery.
He noticed Dave’s smile growing larger.
“Next time, what?” Mike teased.
Justin cleared his throat and grunted. “I’m gonna…” he coughed and felt his mouth twitch and his tongue seemingly move on its own, “…suck his cock.”
He paled at the words that left his mouth, having had absolutely zero intention of saying anything even remotely close to that. He’d wanted to say that he’d kick his ass.
Mike flinched and cocked his eyebrow. “Huh?” he asked, slowing down the smallest bit.
Justin Howells shook his head and cleared his throat again, even rubbing at it with a muscled hand. “Um,” he stammered, “I said that I was gonna… suck his big cock so hard until he shoots his fat load down my throat!”
The stud nearly fell off the treadmill in shock and horror. Not only had his mouth seemingly forced those strange words out by itself, but he even shouted it out loud, garnering the attention of a couple of other gym goers who gave him weirded out looks.
“Keep it down!” Mike hissed. “You can’t be joking like that so loudly. People are gonna think you and Dave are some kinda thing.”
Justin struggled to regain his footing, his heart racing in his bare chest. He locked eyes with Dave, who was red in the face as he tried to stifle a laugh. However, the second their eyes met, Justin winced internally as he felt a stirring in his cock.
Dave gave the mortified stud a knowing wink as he performed bicep curls, his massive, hairy muscles bulging with power. He then stood up and began to waddle back towards the locker room, his broad back swaying to and fro.
At the sight of such masculine power, Justin’s cock started to plump up. “Wh-what the fuck… is wrong with my slutty body?” he hissed to himself. He frantically looked around the gym, wanting to wail out as he noticed that the stirring in his loins calmed down whenever he looked at anyone else in the gym, but the second his eyes landed on the older bodybuilder, his cock twitched excitedly and he felt himself flex his asscheeks.
“Justin, you okay?” Mike asked as he looked at the other man’s pale face.
Justin turned to his friend, desperately wanting to tell him that something was horribly wrong— that he couldn’t control his words and that he was getting hard just by looking at Dave. Unfortunately, when Justin opened up his mouth, his mortified ears heard himself say, “I’ll be even better as soon as that muscle daddy fucks my tight hole.”
He didn’t wait for a confused response from Mike. Instead, Justin hopped off the treadmill and stomped his way over towards Dave, his hard cock tenting out the front of his shorts. He knew that something was wrong and based on the knowing look that’d been on Dave’s gruff, handsome, chiseled, stubble-covered face, Dave knew what it was. He rushed into the locker room and stopped right in front of the older bodybuilder and tried to lean over him in a threatening way, but his his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of the older man’s hairy pecs barely covered by his tank top ruined it.
Dave just smirked back at the red-faced man. “Can I help you, Bud?” he asked in his baritone-filled voice.
At the sound of the deep, manly bass emanating from the bodybuilder’s plump form, Justin felt his cock twitch and start to leak pre-cum. “Your sexy ass better tell me what you did to me,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down and wincing when he’d outwardly referred to the man as ‘sexy’.
Dave tried to look innocent, but the chuckle that escaped his full lips gave him away. “What do you mean?” he asked. “And you really find me sexy?”
Justin wanted so desperately to lash out at the older man, to demand that he fix whatever the hell was happening to him. His body, however, had other plans.
“You better shove that thick cock up my ass right now!” he barked, his eyes widening at the gay words that left his lips. Straining, he tried again, even clenching his jaw as he struggled to control his own words. “Wh-what… what the fuck d-did… did you do… me… Do me, Daddy!” He stomped his foot in frustration.
“Yeah, maybe later,” Dave winked, making the other man shudder. “First, I’m gonna let you suffer for a bit— I’ve always heard every time you’d talked shit about me in the gym. Well now, I think you’ll find it hard to say anything negative about me at all from now on.”
Justin paled at what Dave had admitted. He had no idea how, but somehow the muscle gut-having bodybuilder had cursed him, forcing him to constantly vocalize his need for the man’s cock, making him sound like some perpetually horny slut. He imagined himself at work or even the grocery store, unable to say anything besides how badly he wanted a man’s huge, veiny cock in his mouth or ass. Worse was that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dave’s hairy muscles, his own cock painfully hard now.
“You gotta fix this, Daddy!” he begged, even bringing his hands in front of himself. “Please, fuck me in the mouth and let me swallow your cum.” He coughed and tried again. “Let me be your little muscleslut! N-no, fuck my tight hole… lemme suck those muscletits…” He trailed off, starting to feel hopeless.
Dave stood up and started to head out of the locker room. “I’ll fuck you after my workout,” he promised. “In the meantime, why don’t you go out on the floor and finish what you were doing.”
Justin’s heart raced, but he found his legs moving on their own accord as he strutted back out onto the gym floor.
Mike found him and hurried over. “You alright?” he asked, concerned for his friend. “You rushed off so quickly, I thought you’d gotten sick.”
Justin could feel it bubbling up in his throat. He pleaded with himself to stay quiet, but his mouth started to move all without his say so.
“I’m great, Stud,” he chirped. “I just had to admire Dave’s huge, sexy muscles. They’re so big and manly, especially his massive cock. After my workout I’m gonna let him wreck my tight hole, and then I’m gonna suck him off and ask him to tug on my nips…” The words just kept pouring out of the humiliated stud, and Dave couldn’t help but smirk as he overheard.
A phrase on everyone's lips, passed around like a greeting, a blessing, a well-wishing.
"The Shadow King has fallen, and we are free."
General Nisha was at the head of the makeshift procession that paraded through the city, enemy shields and helmets held high like banners.
The war for the kingdom had been waged for five years. The fields outside the city were red with blood. But they'd won, they'd won. The undead legions had met their defeat, and their dark king had been imprisoned and was awaiting trial.
There was little doubt what his fate would be.
But before he could be executed, certain matters needed to be addressed. There were whispers in the streets, rumors of secret blood rituals, fail-safes emplaced by the Dark King to ensure he'd always be able to rise to power again. And if these rumors were true, they must be destroyed.
There were holy mages in cities further from the capital, wise men who could draw truths from a person's mind, but it would be weeks before their arrival. For now, Cerus the Shadow King would face Nisha.
They held a meager feast in the reclaimed castle; the city was still suffering from being besieged. Knights and lords and commoners dined together in celebration. Once the evening had turned to drinking and song, General Nisha took their leave, making the long journey down the stairs, to the dungeons.
Cerus hadn't moved an inch from the spot he'd been left in, Nisha had seen to that personally. The ex-king was blindfolded, chained spread-eagled on the ground with an iron bit in his mouth. Knight's gauntlets had been fitted over his hands, their joints fused together to form immobile metal gloves.
One could never be too careful when dealing with a mage, especially one as powerful as the Shadow King.
Nisha said nothing at first, unlocking the cell door and circling the prisoner inside.
Cerus's breathing quickened at the sound, his long black hair plastered to his face with sweat. He wore nothing but his restraints, leaving the multitude of wounds he'd sustained during his capture plainly visible.
How should they proceed? Normally, allowing a captive mage to speak would be exceedingly dangerous, but Nisha had taken precautions. One of their mages had crafted a runed cuff that would sap Cerus's power. The real question was, how would they get the man to respond?
They knew appealing to Cerus's morality was a lost cause. The former king had no issue razing whole villages to eliminate a single rebel. He'd executed entire families, burned the crops of his own people. There was no hope of finding any humanity in him.
Pain could be a motivator, but it would take time. And they had time, but pain alone wouldn't be enough. Someone like Cerus would need to be wholly broken before he'd give them anything worthwhile. Now fear… fear would be a useful tool, but how to employ it?
Nisha supposed they were already making some headway with their silent circling. Now to heighten it…
They eyed the rack of implements that lined one of the stone walls, selecting a slim wooden rod that looked like it had been freshly cut. Someone had stocked the dungeon for the occasion, then.
They tested it, watching Cerus's chest hitch as it cut through the air with a swish. Good. Instead of bringing it down on his exposed flesh, Nisha resumed their circling, letting the anticipation rise for a long moment before hovering over one of the deeper wounds on the chained man's torso and slowly, slowly forcing the tip of the implement into it, increasing pressure until Cerus was screaming around the bit.
Then without a word, they withdrew, the tip of the rod now slick with blood as they continued circling.
How would it feel, they wondered, to be in the Dark King's place? Dethroned, rendered powerless, in the hands of enemies who were hungry for blood. A prisoner in his own dungeon. They imagined it was terrifying. They hoped it was terrifying.
Nisha stopped, found another wound, and repeated the slow, pressured prodding. None of the cuts that littered Cerus's body were too deep; a few still oozed blood, and a few looked like they'd require stitches—or at least they would were Nisha inclined to grant the man any sort of medical aid. No, if Cerus were to be healed, it would only be to allow more pain. He deserved no mercy.
Nisha allowed themselves a few more jabs, a few more screams elicited from the tyrant, before even bothering to lock the runed cuff onto his wrist. They already knew they'd be up well into the night, whether Cerus elected to respond to their questions or not.
Whatever answers they were granted, they couldn't deny that they were going to enjoy this.