Donāt Forget Your Costumeā¦
Overdue Halloween special + 2000 follower special
I flick my cigarette onto the empty driveway and squish it beneath my foot. Pulsing coloured lights from within the house briefly light up the slender garden, creating a multicoloured path to the front door. The music sounds muffled, but its definitely audible. It wouldnāt surprise me if neighbours complain. This is a culdesac after all. Police might even show up. Wouldnāt be a Stefan Party without that, would it?
I knock on the thick wooden door and wait. No answer. I can hear people inside. Chattering. Can see them through the garden windows too. I knock again, this time harder than before.
āMiles?!ā A voice yells from behind me, laughing. āYouāre late too! Thank God.ā
Itās Wyatt. The only other person I know at this party, apart form Stefan anyway. Me, Wyatt and Stefan go way back. Well, five years back, but thatās relatively long considering. I mean, Iāve only lived in Brooktane for five years. I donāt know many people apart from those in our course. Thatās where I met these two idiots. We both study business at Brooktane University. We sat beside each other the first day of college. Then, boom. Here we are.
āI texted you before I got here. Where were you?ā I call as he makes his way down the garden trail.
āI had to run and go get a stupid costume from that Halloween pop-up shop beside Archieās Pizzeria. You know the one.ā He walks past me and smacks the door loudly, never breaking eye contact.
āYou ran all the way downtown for a costume?ā I laugh. āI didnāt even bother bringing one.ā
āYeah, I can see that.ā Wyatt looks me up and down. āStefan said it was a costume party. He said we have to wear costumes.ā
āIām sure Iāll be fine.ā I dismiss my best friend. āWhatād you end up going for?ā
āIt was slim pickens down there, dude.ā He acts like heās about to profess something bad. āTurns out looking for a costume on Halloween isnāt going to give you the best choicesā
āSoā¦ā I smile, ready for the big reveal.
Wyatt takes out a plastic packet with neatly folded clothes in it.
āARABIAN PRINCEā it read.
I laugh and clap my hands.
āShut up.ā He laughs and smacks my shoulder. āIt was the only one they had left.ā
āA white boy dressing as an Arabian Prince...ā I take the packet from his hands, laughing at the costume up close. āItās a bit problematic, Iām not gonna lie.ā
āIāll make sure not to be in any photos.ā He snatches the costume back. He smiles. āThis could be a career ruining party for me.ā
āCut to you in ten years being cancelled.ā I grin, turning towards the door. āYouāll be forced to live off the grid as a farmer or some shit.ā
The chattering from inside grows infinitely louder as the door swings open. Weāre both met with a grinning drunk Stefan.
āWyatt! Miles!ā Stefan throws his arms open, spilling his half empty beer on the floor. āMake yourself at-ā
Stefan stops mid sentence and stares at us, as if it had taken this long for his brain to catch up to his sight.
āNo costumes?ā Stefan furrows his brow angrily. āWhat part of costume party do you not understand?ā
āI got a costume, dude. I just bought it. Itās still in this thing.ā Wyatt holds up the plastic packaging with the career ruining clothing inside.
āAh, thatās my man. Never let the Stefan down. You aināt gonna like letting me down, lemme tell you.ā Stefan slurs. āYou can use the bathroom under the stairs to put it on. Or just strip naked in front of everyone, Iām sure someone in that crowd would enjoy it.ā
Wyatt makes his way past Stefan and slips into the overcrowded hallway full of every type of costume you could imagine. Vampires. Genies. Werewolves. And youād expect, a lot of superheroes. Though, one by the window is particularly bad, which does arouse some amusement. Itās mostly what youād expect from a halloween costume party. āYou got one too then?ā Stefan gestures towards me.
I shrug. āSorry man. Was busy. Didnāt have time to get one.ā
āNo dude. Thatās not okay. You gotta be wearinā one by midnight, man. Itās already 11.30.ā He throws his head back in frustration. āListen. Come with me. Iāll get you sorted out. You owe me.ā
āNah, man. Thatās alright-ā
āCome with me.ā Stefan grabs me by the arm, taking me into the overly Halloweeny decorated house. Too decorated for a college student in his mid-20s. He must have a real hard on for Halloween, cause this is a lot. Fake cobwebs. An old smoke machine, coughing out whatever air it could muster up. Pumpkins taking up valuable space where people could be sitting.
He drags me past a blue genie and a caveman downing shots together. We hop up the stairs and into a secluded bedroom. I stare at Stefan, who is now arms deep in his closet, sifting through piles of dirty clothing which had clumped up on the closet floor.
āHere we go.ā He holds what could barely even be considered costumes. He lays the three of them on the bed. āAlways gotta keep spares. Since people always seem to forgetā¦ā He glares at me.
I stare at the costumes. Half in amusement. Half in dread. Am I actually going to have to wear one of these? I consider my options:
(1) A cowboy. That doesnāt sound too bad, right? But youāre wrong. Not just any cowboy. A slutty cowboy. Ah yes, Stefan couldnāt just lend a nice costume with lots of coverage. He needed to embarrass the people who forget their costumes, or like me, didnāt bother to get one. I feel like heās enjoying this. The outfit is barely even an outfit. An outfit implies thereās actual clothing. Not this costume. Oh boy, itās just a cowboy hat, a handkerchief, cowboy boots and a fringe thong. Could it get any worse than this?
(2) Apparently yes. This one is a dog. A god damn leather dog. Completed with a dog mask, a thick leather collar, skimpy pants with a zip in the ass area and a tail (which Iām pretty sure is a butt plug). This one is objectively more embarrassing, Iāll give him that. And itās on that note than I rule this costume out. Begone leather pup.
(3) The final costume (if you can even call it that) was a maid costume. Yep, thatās right. A slutty maid costume. Like the ones youād see for womenā¦ but in this case, I was expected to adorn a cropped skirt and a cleavage line which extenuates my chest. This ranks pretty high on the embarrassment scale. Is it leather pup high, no. But itās no lower than a sexy cowboy.
I stare at the ācostumesā blankly. Stefan must be into some weird shit. Though, if Iām gonna be immortalised in peopleās Instagram posts tonight, I sure as hell aināt getting pictured in a maid costume or a pupā¦ thing. I swallow my pride and point to the slutty cowboy.
āAh, the cowboy. Yeah thatās a good one, man.ā He gathers the pup and the maid and throws them back in his closet. āYouāre gonna be popular tonight, my dude.ā
I space out, still attempting to accept my fate as a half dressed cowboy. Stefan dances to the muffled music downstairs, as he heads towards the door. āItās ten minutes until midnight, so Iāll let you get that costume on, man.ā
āIāll go check on our white Arabian prince downstairs.ā He giggles. āAm I the only one who finds that a bit problematic?ā I stare at him in resentment for making me wear this thing.
āNo? Okayā He closes the door behind him.
I slip on the outfit. It barely fits. The thong is made for someone twice my size. It slips down my thighs every chance it gets. The cowboy boots are a size 13. Five sizes bigger than my feet. I feel like a son trying on his dadās boots. At least the handkerchief fitsā¦ right? My completely average body is on full display for everyone to see. I donāt look like a sexy cowboy. Just one that had its clothes stolen. I look at the clock
Wow. Midnight already. I should go find Wyatt. See how heās getting one. His Arabian prince outfit might be stupid, but at least it probably fits. Iāll even hazard a guess and say he looks ten times less ridiculous than I do- AGHHHH.
What the fuck was that? A green flash? The entire roomā¦ it just flashed green. As if a green thunder bolt had shot through the house. It felt like my entire body was justā¦ zapped. I feel all tingly and shit. Like a fuzziness all over my skin. I repeatedly tap my fingers together, my skin feeling particularly soft. I hear a cacophony of unintelligible sounds erupt downstairs. So they saw it too? At least Iām not going crazy. I donāt thinkā¦
āFuck! Whatās happening to us, man?!ā A man shouts downstairs. His voice sticking out among the frantic yelling. āI canāt thinkā¦ I canātā¦ I canā¦ I CAN SAVE YOU HELPLESS CITIZEN!ā
What is going on down there? And what the fuck is that guy on? His voiceā¦ it changed from high pitched terror to unwavering confidence in a matter of seconds. Itāsā¦ disturbing. I know I should check it outā¦ but it doesnāt sound good. Part of me is afraid. A large part, in fact. First a green flash. Then screaming. Now, this man. His voice.
I stand alone in Stefanās room, listening to the chaos downstairs. It suddenly dawns on me that, while all this is going down, I am standing up here in a cowboy costume which barely covers me. Speaking of the outfit, it feels uncomfortable. I donāt remember it feeling this bad when I put it on. It feels like its squeezing me. In factā¦ Iām not holding up my thong anymoreā¦ actuallyā¦ it feels really tight.
I feel an itchiness fill my bum cheek. I absentmindedly reach down to scratch my ass, but as I doā¦ my handā¦ it sinks into a soft round cheek. My hand recoils in shock. I crane my neck over my shoulder and let out a terror-filled scream. My assā¦ itās massive! So big that it filled in the XL costumeās thong. I look at myself in Stefanās bedroom mirror.
āHoly shitā¦ā I mutter.
This isnāt real. This isnāt happening. Iām dreaming. Thereās no way. My assā¦ I look like I have two wobbling beach balls for ass cheeks. I take a step closer, my ass cheeks bounce. They feel so restricted. Itās like my ass is being held captive by my skimpy thong. It feels like itās gonna burst open, displaying my new fuckable hole to the world. This is the kind of ass youād see in porns. Porns where the guy canāt step outside his house without some guy ripping his pants open and slipping his cock between the bouncy cheeks. My costume doesnāt cover my new curvaceous figure at all.
Now that Iām looking at myself, my muscles seem huge. Itās not just my ass cheeks which grew, it was all of me. These biceps are as big as footballs. Theyāre the kind of biceps youād see on a high school jock. Not me. I donāt even go to the gym. My veins are pronounced, drawing attention to my new arms. My neck looks strange too. Itās almost thicker than my head. I look so different. Sharp jawline. Thick brow. I canāt stop breathing through my mouth either. I look like a fucking meathead.
My legs are also bigger. Proportionately big, but that doesnāt say much. I mean, my ass cheeks look like they came from a guy who had gotten ass implants or some shit. Though theyāre proportionate, theyāre still huge. Speaking of huge, my chest underwent some changes too. And by some, I mean a lot. My pecs used to be non-existent. But now, they jut out from my body. Iām built like a shelf. These pecs have a mind of their own too. Jiggling at every movement. Bouncing with every step. They feel remarkably soft. My hand just sinks into them, fat seeping through my fingers. My nipples look larger too, like pegs. God, this is embarrassing. Imagine what people will say about these big boys. Imagine what Wyatt would sayā¦ Wyatt. Where is he? I should go find him. See if heās okay.
I tear my eyes away from my new self. I donāt see how it could get much worse than this. And if everything appears like it sounds, I donāt think Iām the only one whose undergone changes. I stumble to the door, adjusting to my new size. I put my new large hand on the doorās handle and throw the door open. Not used to this new strength. I breath in deeply. This is gonna be humiliatingā¦ but here we go. I take my first step down the stairs.
The crowds of people in the hall and living room remain. Though, itās noticeably more hectic. Itās definitely clear I wasnāt the only one who changed. The superhero I saw earlier was no longer in a corny spandex costume, but rather, he now adorned the kind of thick superhero suit youād see in a Marvel movie. The genie looks like heās changed too. His skin altered to a crystal blue. It shimmered beneath the flashing dance floor lights. He had lost the entire bottom half of his body. It was now just smoke, trailing from a golden lamp on the ground. People surrounded him. Iām guessing for wishes. This is so bizarre.
I step down the hallway, heading towards the kitchen. I glance at the transformations. A man, who must have been dressed as a stripper, is now humping the stairs I came down. I think I recognise him from college tooā¦ pretty sure he was a straight dude. God, thatās humiliating. I walk further down the hallway, passing every kind of costume you can imagine. A caveman. Wizards. Witches. Vampires. A clown. A strongman.
I continue my journey down the crowded hallway, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Suddenly, my journey is stopped by a massive brute blocking my way. He faces away from me. I stare at his back, contemplating my options. What even is he dressed as? I canāt tell from behind. All I can tell is, heās massive. My new body must be around 6ā0 and even heās two heads taller than me. His width must be the same as the door. I mean, itās the same as this damn hallway. I hesitantly reach up and tap him on the shoulder.
āCan ah git by ya thair, partner?ā I cover my mouth, humiliated by my own voice. I sound insane. Like a cowboy. A cartoon cowboy. No one fucking talks like this. God dammit, this night just keeps getting worse and worse.
The hulking figure slowly turns around, his massive feet stomping on the wooden floor. He faces me and peers down at me.
He looks familiar. I canāt quite place my finger on it. Heās of Arab descent, Iād say. His skin is dark and tanned. His nose is wide, taking up a good portion of his face. His brow is striking too. Itās thick and pronounced. He looks like one of those cavemen youād see in a cartoon. His forehead sticks out, giving him a brutish appearance. He does like familiar. In a weird way. Actually, he kinds reminds me of Wyatt. Well, if Wyatt was a 6ā5 giant Arab beastā¦ hold onā¦ what was Wyatt dressed up as againā¦ fuck dude. Not Wyatt.
āWyatt? Is that you?ā My voice sounds exaggeratedly southern and it sounds even more ridiculous coming out of a cowboy with this huge body of mine āWhat āappened to ya, partner?ā
The white boy turned Arabian hunk growls. Itās weird seeing Wyatt so hairy. Well, seeing Wyatt regress into a primitive Arab man is weird too. The whole situation is weird. Iām barely even used to my new body. So, I think itās gonna take a while to get used to seeing Wyatt like this. I see his a thick bush of hair sprout from underneath his armpit. It plasters to his skin, completely soaked in sweat. I scrunch my nose as Arab Wyattās sweat invades my nostrils. Itās a hot foul stench. The kind which stings the eyes.
āWho is you?ā The Arab beast looks me up and down. āYou cowā¦ you man cow.ā
His speech is broken. Doesnāt sound much like Wyatt, but then, why would it? The curse must have taken away his voice, same as it did mine. Though while I got a ridiculously exaggerated southern drawl, he got broken English. It sounds like English isnāt his first language anymore.
āItās me, Partner!ā I plead to my old friend. I can see he doesnāt recognise me. His stare is blank, but pitiless. As if there is nothing in that brain of his. No complex thought. No worries. Just power and domination.
āIn my country, cow is very good.ā He huffs through his nose. āYou are money. Property. I trade you.ā
āIām no cow, partner.ā I clarify again. I donāt think heās getting it. Itās the language barrier, I think. I donāt think heās getting it. āIah am a cowboy. Not a cow.ā
āUddersā¦ cowās udders need milking.ā He grunts, his gaze fixed on my pecs. I look down. My pecs seemed substantially bigger than before. I assume the transformation hasnāt stopped yet. Though, they do feel especially heavy. Theyāre weighing me down more than before. Itās weird. But Iāve learned to stop questioning things tonight.
āNah, partner.ā I deny. āMa chest iss just big.ā
āMilkā¦ā He grunts, licking his new Arab lips. His gaze remains on my chest. He reaches out and cups his meaty paw around my pec. He squeezes and a pleasureful moan escapes my mouth. His grasp makes my chest tingle with pleasure. Like an orgasm around my nipple.
āSeeā¦ā He exhales hot breath from his nose in amusement. āNothing more than cow.ā
I look down to see a shocking sight. As the Arab beast squeezes my pec, a drop of white liquid leaks from my nipple. Itās a sight I didnāt think Iād see today. Me. My pecs. Leaking, what I assume is milk. Like the beast said...
āYou walk around me, pretend you man. But you nothing more than property.ā He growls and squeezes my pec, causing a stream of milk to shoot down my chest. āNo cow be without owner. You need be claimed.ā
āNo, Wyatt!ā I moan through the pleasure of his meaty hand on my nipple. āIām a man. A cowboy. Not aā¦ cow!ā
āName is Amaad! No disrespect Arab prince, cow.ā He slaps my breast, causing them both to jiggle in pleasure.
āNoā¦ no Amaad!ā I stare down, watching my nipples leak milk all over the floor. āIāmā¦ Iām a person!ā
āCow has dream of being man.ā Amaad laughs deeply, causing the walls to shake. āBut he never be man. He always be object for me to stick brown cock. He always be object for friends to milk day long.ā
I take a step backwards, attempting an escape. But the hulk grabs me.
āI claim youā He grunts, grabbing both of my tits and squeezing them. Milk drips down my body as I scream in pleasure. āI MILKING COW, ISNāT THAT RIGHT? I MILKING MY COW?ā
I scream in pleasure. I know people are watching us. I know Iām being humiliated in front of everyone. I know theyāre looking at a man becoming a cow. But I donāt care. The pleasure is too powerful. Itās all consuming.
āAmaad!ā My moans fill the halls. āSt- stop Ahmaad!ā
āSAY YOU ARE NOTHING BUT DUMB COW!ā Ahmaad yells at me, milking me more intensely. Pulling on my nipples in a rhythmic motion.
āAmaad! I- I shouldnāt. Iām a man! Iām a-!ā I scream.
āSAY IT YOU DUMB FUCKABLE MINDLESS MILK SLUT!ā Ahmaad bends down and latches his lips around my nipple. Sucking the milk out of me. I feel my brains slip down into my chest and become milk. Milk that master Amaad drinks. Milk that master owns.
āIā¦ Iā¦ā I hesitate, my whole body filling with intense pleasure. Itās impossible to think. Whatās happening.
Ahmaad unlatches himself from my wet peg nipples and yells. āSAY IT YOU DUMB FUCKABLE MINDLESS COW!ā
āI AM A COW!ā I scream in unbearable pleasure. āI AM NOTHING BUT A COW. PROPERTY TO BE OWNED AND TRADED. I AM THE DUMBEST MOST EMPTY HEADED COW. AND YOU OWN ME!ā
My cock is on the verge of cumming everywhere. I canāt hold it back. I havenāt even touched it. But Iām gonnaā¦ Iām gonna cum all over my owner.
āSay my nameā¦ā Ahmaad grabs hold of my nipples one last time.
āAHMAA-ā I yell as master begins to pull on my nipple. āAHMA-ā
āSay itā¦ā He whispers.
āAHMā¦ AHMā I scream.
Ahmaad gives one last tug, my nipple encased in his meaty paw. My udders get pulled by master and my cock shoots everywhere. Without thought, I try scream his name, cumming out all my brainsā¦ but only one thing emerges.
āAhā¦ Ahā¦ MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOā
āāāāāāāāāāāā
And so, Stefanās Halloween costume party is going just as planned.
The warlock always knew how to throw a good Halloween party. Turn people into their costumes. It was a cliche among the Brooktane warlock community, but it was a classic. It seems like everyone is enjoying themselves.
Although Stefan doesnāt realise it yet, the spell he cursed the house with is permanent. How is he going to explain all these these superheroes, monsters and stereotypes running around Brooktaneās streets tomorrow morning.
Stefan is going to have a lot of explaining to do. Especially when students start asking what happened to his classmates, Marcus and Wyatt. Will he tell them the truth? That Ahmaad booked a flight back to his home country in the Middle East. And as for Marcusā¦ wellā¦ Marcus is now just a mindless cow on Ahmaadās farmā¦ do you think he will tell them?
areudirty
izzy806
stormborns
romaincrisis
titsay
ellievsbear
vaporwave
gummygunk
