#jockified

[jockifier]

Hey. Hey buddy, listen to me. That’s it, good boy. Alright listen up, when I say these words, they’re going to entrench so deep into your psyche you’re not even gonna remember they’re there. But they’re still gonna have the biggest inpact on you it’ll be hard not to follow them still. Ready?

You wanna fuck big dumb jocks. You wanna get fucked by big dumb jocks. And most importantly, you wanna be a big dumb jock. There’s no better feeling in the world that you could imagine than being muscle bound and having no thoughts. Go to the gym and get big muscles for other guys with big muscles to cum all over when they ride you. Work your legs and ass for other guys with big muscles to stare at and rim. Chug creatine and protein shakes. And most importantly, remember how much people love big dumb jocks. No thoughts, no brains, just muscles and hard-ons for other guys with big muscles. Good job, big boy.

[grizzmantfs69]

BOOT MASTER CHAPTER 6: GYM RATS

Late evening… the gym was emptying slowly as the regular crowd finished their workouts and headed for sauna, steamroom, pool or home.

This was when guys who liked to work out undisturbed, at their own pace, usually came in. And Timothy was waiting for one such man, who’d reserved the services of the young personal trainer, only recently qualified… for a very unusual training session.

Earlier that day, Timothy’s boss had called him into the office. “Congratulations on getting your P.T. certification, Tim. Your advanced training starts this evening.” Michael went on to explain. “Our training programme is a bit different to those of other gyms – here, we find it more effective to let newly certified trainers be trained up by their clientele. That lets them learn about what their clients want, and improves their customer service skills. We have many highly experienced muscle men & fitness specialists amongst our clientele, some of whom assist us in that capacity for suitable remuneration.”

Michael went on to give Timothy the details of his client. “Meet him here 19:00hrs. What he says, goes. Take the afternoon off, as you’ll likely be working late tonight – and keep your schedule, both inside and outside your normal hours, free unless and until he releases you.” Timothy accepted, and headed home, returning to the gym an hour before his client was due… after having cancelled his plans for forthcoming evenings and weekends. Just in case.

“Timothy?” A deep voice spoke, behind and above him. “Yes?” He turned round… to find himself face to chest with blackness. A black tank top, stretched tight across a massive chest. Black shorts. Black socks and trainers. Their wearer so dark it was hard to tell where fabric ended and skin began. Above the tank top, a dark and authoritative head & face looking down at him. “I’m Peter.”

“Hi.” Timothy answered… feeling small as he added “Thanks for taking me on.” Peter grinned. “I think you’ll find the experience worthwhile. I prefer to use my own gym – are you up for offsite work? Accommodation compulsory – works better if you’re on site. Board & Lodging on me.” Timothy blinked, surprised – “Yeah, sure.” Peter grinned. “Good. Grab your stuff and let’s go. Your place first – you’ll need to pack a few things.”

Once Timothy had picked up his backpack, Peter laid a hand on his shoulder & filled him with a calm so deep he was unable to move. Then he felt Peter’s mind touch his… and reality distorted around them as Peter ‘ported them both into Timothy’s apartment. Arriving in his lounge.

Sitting Timothy down, Peter released his hold. “You OK?” Timothy shivered as his body was released to his own control. “What the FUCK just happened?! How the bloody hell did we get here?!” Peter grinned “I teleported us here – saves time.” Timothy’s jaw dropped… and a nervous look crept over his face. “That’s supposed to be sci-fi and fantasy stuff – what the fuck ARE you? And” – Timothy swallowed – “just what have I let myself in for?!”

Peter broadcast an aura of calm and trust, dissolving Timothy’s agitation. “I – and my brother, who you’ll meet shortly – are guys with special gifts. We were ordinary once – how we ended up this way is a long story. We’ll tell you about it later, OK? For now, you’re in for an intense training session that will use magic to enhance its results. It will be tough – but you’ll come to no harm, and the enhancements to your physical, mental, emotional and psychological capabilities and capacities will make it all worthwhile. You’ll be the king of the gym by the time you’re done!”

Timothy, knowing – somehow – that Peter was speaking truth, and was trustworthy, relaxed. “OK. Bit of a shock – but I’m no stranger to putting in the effort. Let’s get on with this!” Peter grinned in satisfaction. “Cool. Now, you need to go and pack. Pack lycra rather than ordinary gym kit – it’s the better option, for reasons you’ll understand later. Plan on being away a week - I’ve already sorted things with your boss, and he’ll keep an eye on your apartment for you.”

A quarter of an hour later, Timothy returned to the lounge with a duffel. “OK – ready when you are.” Peter grinned as he laid his hand on Timothy’s shoulder. This time, when reality untwisted, he found himself standing on a flagstone courtyard before a very grand – almost palatial – mansion, underneath a glowing, iridescent sky devoid of either sun, moon or stars.

Peter grinned as a new voice spoke behind him. “Welcome Home!” Turning to face the speaker, Timothy beheld an even greater blackness, also dressed in gym gear. “Hi. I’m Jonathan.” Feeling decidedly diminutive before this black mountain, he offered his hand. “Hi. I’m Timothy.” A huge black hand encapsulated his and withdrew.

Jonathan grinned as Peter added, “Happy Birthday, brother!” Jonathan chuckled. “Thank you most kindly, brother. Shall we share the bounty and whip this guy into shape together?” Peter grinned and spoke in the back of Jonathan’s head “You know the agreement with his boss – fancy going a bit further and turning him into a skilled, inspirational, charming, horny fitness guru as well?” Jonathan chuckled in the back of Peter’s head “Only if we also make him kinky, dominant and controlling.” Peter laughed “Deal.”

Unaware of the fate in store for him, Timothy picked up his duffel and turned towards the mansion… halting a moment later as two black right hands placed a heavy silver chain round his neck and fastened it. Then his senses were overwhelmed with silver light as the slave chain dissolved his free will and replaced it with total obedience to the two men who’d put the chain round his neck.

Shocked and bewildered, he blinked in surprise and confusion as Master Jonathan and Master Peter reached into his mind, installed a mandatory code of behaviour, and locked it in place. As they released his mind, the code was instantly triggered – and a moment later, Timmy was on his knees before his Masters.

Peter chuckled at Timmy’s expression – “The control helps guarantee the results, boy… and your boss is paying us top dollar for this, so we take no chances!” – and smirked at Jonathan. “That idea of yours was brilliant, brother… programming a boy this way saves SO much work!” Jonathan chuckled. “Yeah – it has its uses! Let’s get him indoors.” On his Masters’ orders, Timmy picked up his duffel and followed them into the mansion.

Walking a few steps behind, Timmy followed his Masters downstairs to the basement. Finding himself in a small vestibule with 4 doors, labelled LAB, SYSTEMS ROOM, DUNGEON and GYM. Jonathan & Peter turned to the fourth door, leading the way into a very well equipped and surprisingly large gym.

Peter instructed Timmy “The locker room on the right-hand side is now yours. Get in there, sort out your stuff, get your kit on and get back here pronto.” Timmy bent his head in obedience “Yes Sir.” and did as ordered.

Returning to the gym, he found Master Jonathan waiting for him. “Our training has certain assets that others don’t, boy.” Jonathan smirked as he handed Timmy a shake made of shimmering liquid fire that looked like no protein shake Timmy had ever seen. “Drink this. Now. All of it.”

Obediently, Timmy drank the shake… feeling it filling his whole body with an internal heat so intense that he almost melted. Once he put the empty shaker down, the work began.

Peter started by driving Timmy through a brutal core strength programme, designed to strip his body down to an iron hard core. As he worked out, Timmy could feel the heat from the shake inside, melting his softer, bulkier parts, infusing and toughening his harder, leaner parts… assisting the workout to strip his body down to a strong core of tendon, sinew and lean, hard functional muscle.

At the end of his first circuit, Peter asked Timmy “How do you feel?” Timmy answered, thoughtfully, “Like the remnants of a turkey being rendered down for soup. All the dross is being melted away – leaving only the bare bones.” Jonathan’s eyebrows rose. “Nicely put. Here’s a boost – a triple R shake. It will rejuvenate, refresh and repair you – cuts out the recovery time.”

Timmy chugged the shake – and was stunned at the wave of energy that flooded his body, mind and spirit. Rejuvenating and repairing all three parts of himself. “Wow!” Jonathan grinned. “Nice, huh?” Timmy nodded “Very much so, Sir.” Peter smirked. “No excuses now, boy. You know your workout programme – get back to it for another circuit.” Jonathan added “After which, it’s shake, swig and repeat. Get the picture, boy?” Timmy meekly bent his head. “Yes, Sir.” And started his second circuit.

As he followed the process, more and more of his softness dissolved… eventually, after multiple circuits & RRR shakes, Timmy realised that every bit of softer flesh and mass was gone. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw a thin, stringy young man with sinews like cables. Skinny, but inexplicably strong. Peter spoke. “This is your first lesson, boy. Mass and strength are not the same thing. You’re stronger than many bodybuilders right now, with only a fraction of their bulk. And the knowledge of how to achieve that has been ingrained in your mind.”

Next, Jonathan measured Timmy’s height – 5’6” – and marked it on a whiteboard against “First Core”. He handed a new shake to Timmy – this one a sparkling golden yellow. “Drink.”

Timmy swallowed the shake, trying not to gag at its musky taste & odour. This one felt different, swelling inside him and making his body feel like a hot air balloon, internal pressure trying to push out. “BBBUUURRRPPP!!!” A huge rumble of gas erupted from his mouth.

Master Peter chuckled. “New workout, boy. This time we add some mass.” and started Timmy on a heavy power circuit. As he worked out, Timmy could feel the inner pressure from the shake condense and solidify into muscle mass, bone, sinew and bodily growth… his height increasing with each circuit. As before, each circuit ended with the usual triple R shake before starting again.

Eventually, all the internal pressure had been transformed into solid muscle and mass. Timmy realised that there was nothing more to use up. Jonathan measured his height – 6’3” – and logged it on the board against “First Bulk”.

Peter spoke. “Second lesson. This is the first step to combining strength and sexiness. Physical muscular beauty on top of true strength. Again, knowledge of how to achieve it is also ingrained in your mind.”

Jonathan added “This is the sort of approach we look for in a workout. Now you understand the core of what your clients want.” Timmy nodded “Yes, Sir – I do”. Jonathan nodded. “Good. But that’s only the start.”

Timmy listened closely as Master Jonathan continued. “As a trainer, you must also encourage, support, guide and inspire your clients to achieve their dreams. They’re people, like you. They have dreams, nightmares, strengths, weaknesses, successes and failings. They need to trust you to develop them. To earn that trust, your mind, body and spirit need to be far greater than they are now. You have to make your clients look up to you. You have to be the fitness & lifestyle guru they need – someone who can help them shape their minds as well as their bodies. True fitness requires true health… and you can’t get that unless all parts of you – body, mind and spirit – are in tip-top condition.”

Timmy asked “Permission to speak, please, Sir?” Jonathan assented. “What’s on your mind, boy?” Timmy answered “I’m not sure I’ve got the qualities for that, Sir.” Peter spoke out “I know you haven’t – which is why you’ll be made to develop them as your programme continues.” Jonathan confirmed it. “Your training is designed to build your mind & spirit as well as your body.”

A second core shake and workout followed, with Timmy’s body being compressed as bones, muscles and sinews were all squeezed into ever smaller, tighter masses. Again, feeling the heat from the shake inside himself condensing his new bulk into hardness; infusing, toughening and concentrating his harder, leaner core of bones, muscles and sinews as he progressed through a sequence of core circuits, his height dropping and his body becoming more densely packed with each circuit.

Eventually, Jonathan logged Timmy’s height – 5’7” – on the board against “Second Core”. “How are you feeling, boy?” Peter asked Timmy. “A bit harder packed, Sir.”, Timmy replied. Peter chuckled. “I should hope so – that’s the way this process works!”

Jonathan explained “Each time you bulk out, you add more mass to your body. Each time you core down, you compress that mass and pack your body more and more densely. You’ll also notice that your mental focus, power and strength of spirit are growing with each repeat. The process will continue until your body, mind and spirit reach their optimal configuration – packed, hard, tight, focused and powerful. Each bulk & core cycle adds 1 inch to your final height and packs your body more and more densely. Each core will be less stringy and more densely bulked than the core before. There’s no hard and fast rule on how far you'll go – everyone’s different – so we repeat ad infinitum until your optimal point is reached. Until then, you keep turning your body into iron, refining its quality further and further as you go.”

He chuckled at Timmy's worried look. “Forget about time here. The dimensional ark this place is built on can cross the timestream with ease. Regardless of how long we need here, we’ll return you home a week after you left.” Timmy was relieved. “Thank You for explaining that, Sir. I was getting a bit worried about it, yes.” Peter spoke. “Let’s get on with it.” And Timmy was put straight into another bulking power circuit.

Time passed… and Timmy’s world shrank to the gym. His head filled with weights, machines, reps and sets. Everything else blurred – and Timmy learned how comfortable it was to have so little to think about… until Jonathan grinned at Peter. “Time for the internal changes!”

Carefully and subtly, as Timmy’s workout cycle progressed, Jonathan & Peter tweaked and developed his mind & spirit. Every bulking workout added more strength and clarity to said mind and spirit. Each core workout dissolved more unwanted parts of both and concentrated & focused the rest. As he worked his way round and round, the naïve young white man was dissolved and replaced with the skilled, confident, inspirational, charming, kinky, dominant, controlling, sexy, horny personal trainer & fitness guru that Jonathan & Peter wanted him to be.

With a naughty, wicked grin, Jonathan also added a set of psychic abilities to Timmy’s mind, enabling him to control and sculpt the minds of his clients as well as their bodies.

Finally, at his 14th core, Timmy’s 6’7” body was refined, hardened and muscled up; his spirit bursting with energy; and his mind clear, strong and focused. His inner transformation was also complete – he had become the man Peter & Jonathan intended him to be – and neither his mind, body nor spirit could grow further. Peter spoke. “Looks like he’s close, brother.” Jonathan agreed, chuckling “Wait for it…”

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” Timmy roared as he finished his core cycle and his cock and balls suddenly exploded, pushing his singlet out painfully. Clawing it off, he gasped as a thick 11” cock and a pair of bull balls emerged, hanging down in front of him, with precum dripping from his tip.

Peter & Jonathan both cheered. “That’s your optimal point reached, boy. And WHAT a nice package!” Timmy’s eyes widened. Jonathan handed him a RRR shake. “This is your last one, boy. Workouts are done.” As Timmy swigged it, Jonathan continued. “Now let’s activate what’s on the inside… and have some fun while we do it!” Peter agreed, chuckling dirtily as he added “Yeah – high time we enjoy the fruits of our labours!” All 3 guys headed for the locker room and the showers.

Emerging from the showers, Timmy found his gym kit, clothes and duffel gone. “You won’t need your stuff for a while.” Peter told him. Timmy’s eyes widened as he realised both Masters were wearing full black leather gear. The sort he’d only seen in some rather kinky porn videos. Jonathan laughed. Dirtily. “Time to power up your inner changes. Follow Us, boy.”

Naked, Timmy followed his Masters out of the gym and into the lab. “Drink this.” Jonathan ordered, handing him a vial of a dark black liquid. Obediently, Timmy drank the contents. Feeling it slither down his gullet and settle in his gut like a statement of intent.

“Good… the programme gave him compression, and I’ve added fuel. Now to spark it up!” Jonathan remarked, leading them to the dungeon as Peter laughed “Brother, you’ve been working on bikes far too long. He’s not a Harley!” Jonathan winked “But he should still be a nice ride…”

Timmy’s eyes widened as he entered the dungeon – he’d heard stories of such places, but never been in one. Until now. Peter grinned at Jonathan. “Spit-roast time!!! AT. FUCKING. LAST.” Timmy was placed in the stocks and secured. Peter brought out a coin. “Heads, you get his mouth first. Tails, you get his ass first.” Jonathan tossed the coin. “Tails.” Timmy swallowed as Master Jonathan moved behind him… and Master Peter in front of him.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” Timmy groaned as Jonathan’s 14” rod pushed into his ass. Further groans were stifled as Peter’s black shaft was pushed down his throat & his eyes rolled back in his head. As his Masters began pistoning both his holes, Timmy got hard. And harder. The sensation of being stretched and pounded like this was incredible.

“HHHRRRGGGHHH… HHHNNNGGGHHH… HHHAAARRRHHH!!!... HHHAAARRRHHH!!!... HHHAAARRRGGGHHH!!!... HHHRRROOOWWWHHHRRR!!!” With roars of ecstasy, Jonathan and Peter shot massive loads into Timmy’s ass and throat. Swallowing desperately, he gasped as the potion in his gut was triggered by his Masters’ seed.

It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t easy. The heat in his gut exploded as potion met man cream. Timmy felt like his insides were melting, dissolving… then his Masters wiped their cocks clean and swapped positions for the second round.

As Jonathan and Peter shot their second loads into Timmy, his mind and body were overloaded; he shot his own load because his body couldn’t hold on to it; then his mind melted, and he was left floating in a glorious haze – unable even to think.

Looking at the gorgeous spaced out white hunk in the stocks, Jonathan spoke. “Best we lock him down until he’s ready.” Peter agreed, and Timmy was gagged, plugged, removed from the stocks, muzzled and locked in chastity. Finally, Peter & Jonathan put him into a full body black leather straitjacket, locked his legs and ankles in metal bar restraints, strapped him down on a bench and left him to rest.

Throughout the next few days, Timmy stayed locked in the straitjacket, quivering and twisting while the potion and man cream inside him merged, matured, stabilised and prepared… with Jonathan & Peter both checking on progress, frequently. Finally, Jonathan turned to Peter. “He’s ready.” Peter agreed “Yeah – the mix is locked and loaded. Time to pull the trigger.”

Timmy was released from the straitjacket and stripped of muzzle, gag, chastity belt and butt plug, then led to the mirror. Checking himself out in the glass as Peter spoke. “Don’t get TOO attached to the way you look right now, boy.” Jonathan grinned. “True words. Shall we?”

Both Masters reached out and touched the chain tattoo round Timmy’s neck… the chain leaped out of his skin, reverting from ink to silver, then the flood of silver light recurred, filling his head again – but this time reversing its earlier work as his obedience to Peter & Jonathan was removed and his free will restored. Jonathan & Peter opened and removed the chain as Timothy grinned in joy. The grin vanished a moment later, as the potion, charged by black man cream and no longer held in check by the chain, was triggered.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” Timothy staggered as heat exploded from the core of his body. “Watch your reflection.” Jonathan warned him. Timothy looked at the mirror. “WHAT THE – “ as all his hair vanished and his face & features reshaped themselves, nose becoming flatter & wider, lips thickening… and his skin darkening.

“YYYAAAGGGHHH!!!” Timothy clutched his head as his white man memories and persona melted away to be replaced by new black ones, the inner blackness seeped into his very soul, and his eyes darkened. With a convulsive shudder, he quietened. And stood up. In the mirror, a 6’7” black hunk looked back at him.

“PHWOAR!!!” The mental reset made him horny for his new black self. Helplessly, he began stroking himself, groaning and cursing as his dark man meat distended and rose.

“HHHNNNGGGHHH!!! HHHRRRGGGHHH!!! PPPHHHRRROOOAAARR!!!” With a roar of ecstasy, Timothy shot his load. Feeling like he’d shed an old skin, as his former white self was churned down into his balls and shot out over the mirror.

With old white Timothy gone, the final changes to new black Timothy filled the space left behind… as his powers of seduction, subversion, control and dominance manifested. The unassuming short white personal trainer was gone – replaced by a fit, sexy, seductive, dominant, controlling, kinky black giant capable of having his way with anyone he wanted.

Peter grinned – and added one last touch. “Since you’ve been turned into the big black gym stud your boss wanted, I think it’s only fair you be given the option of turning him – or anyone else you want – into your bitch. Here you go.” He laid a spell on Timothy’s cock & balls, then added a mental link to give him control of it. “Feel the link? You already have the power to seduce, overwhelm and dominate another guy. Now, if you trigger that spell and shoot your load inside him as well, it’ll make him fixated on being your bitch. It’ll take hold overnight after you fuck him. Next day, he’ll be putty in your hands. Just be careful with the power – it’s way too easy to let go in the heat of passion and inadvertently trigger it unintentionally. The spell’s permanent. Yours to deploy as you see fit, on whoever you see fit.”

Jonathan laughed. “Nice one, brother. Now, time to lock him down!” Casting paralysis and cleanup spells on Timothy, he waved his hand; 3 silver discs, each with a keyhole in the centre, appeared over Timothy’s groin, heart and forehead; then Jonathan took out his key and inserted it into the keyhole over Timothy’s groin. “Be Locked.” He turned it. “Once, for the past.” And removed the key. Again, over the heart “Twice, for the present.” Then the forehead “Thrice, for the future.”

Smiling, Jonathan stepped back and dropped his paralysis spell as the locks sank into Timothy’s body and disappeared. “And that’s that. You’re locked. Apart from aging, your body will never change – you’re a fit black stud for the rest of your life. You’ll still be a stunner at seventy!”

Timothy gaped at his reflection - then gave himself a shake and turned to face his brothers. “Yo, brother. How you feeling?” Peter asked him. “Yo, fam. I be reborn!” Timothy answered. “But why did you turn me black?” Jonathan smirked. “That’s what your boss specified when he asked us to work you over. Your gym’s getting a lot of black clients, and some of them don’t like taking instructions from white guys. He wants some black personal trainers available for them, and figured you were the easiest option for us to work over as you’re the youngest, newest and have no surviving family. Makes the life rewrite easier.”

Timothy nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve seen quite a few guys like that recently. Thanks for the training – and the sexy new me. Gonna have trouble making everyone believe I’m me, though.” Jonathan shook his head. “I’ll see to that”… and rewrote reality. “OK – done. Nobody remembers the old white Timothy – everyone remembers you as the black hunk you are now. Check your memories – some of your oldest friendships have disappeared or been drastically altered, and others have been added.” Timothy’s eyes widened. “Yeah – I see. Lot of changes in my friend circle.” Jonathan nodded. “Goes with the territory. You OK with it all?” Timothy nodded. “Gonna take some getting used to – but I’ll do it. I fucking well LOVE this new Me!”

Peter grinned. “That’s enough talking. Let’s get to bed and REST.” Timothy’s eyes rose. “No dungeon for me?” Peter shook his head. “No – restraints etc. in this house are only for white guys… and even then, only at need. We never tie up a brother – unless he wants it.” With tired, fulfilled chuckles, all 3 black hunks made their way to the master bedroom and its super king sized bed. Timothy’s duffel lying in the corner of the bedroom.

After a good long sleep, the three guys woke up, took care of each other’s morning glories, then followed with a shower. Over breakfast, Jonathan gave Timothy a thoughtful look. “You’re planning mischief, brother. I know that look!” Timothy smirked. “Just thinking… Peter’s words about turning my boss into my bitch have taken root. Plans for seducing Michael are being formulated as I speak.” With dirty chuckles, Jonathan & Peter clinked their glasses of orange juice with Timothy’s in approval. “Go for it!”

Once breakfast was over, Peter stood up. “Shall I take you home, brother?” Timothy accepted the offer. “Sure – just let me grab my bag.” Jonathan grinned “No need – here it is.” And he ‘ported Timothy’s duffel from the master bedroom. Picking it up, Timothy turned to Jonathan and offered his hand. “Many thanks for all your help.” Jonathan grinned and shook hands. “It’s been our pleasure, brother. All The Best.” Peter laid a hand on Timothy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you home.” Arriving back in his lounge, Timothy put his duffel down and shook hands with Peter. “Thanks again. For everything.” Peter grinned. “As my brother said – it’s our pleasure. See you around.” The two men parted company as Peter ‘ported back to the mansion.

Walking into the gym the next day, Timothy knocked on his boss’s door, entering in response to Michael’s “Come in!”. Looking at the man sitting behind the desk, his mouth agape, Timothy asked “Yo boss. Like what you see?” The look on Michael’s face was all the answer needed. “Wow. Peter & Jonathan really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Timothy chuckled. “You just bet they did!” and wiggled his hips, activating his inner powers of seduction, subversion and dominance. Michael flushed. Bright red. Desperately trying to look anywhere but at the black hunk standing in the doorway.

Timothy laughed. A very dirty, sexy, suggestive laugh. “Stop trying not to look – I know you want this…” as he stroked his bulge. Eyes wide, desperate to hide his own bulge, Michael tried not to drool. Timothy winked – dirtily – which pushed Michael over the edge. With a moan, Michael closed & locked the office door, put his phone on hold and let Timothy push him over the side of his desk, ass in the air, pull down his trousers and ride him.

“AAARR-“ A huge black hand closed Michael’s mouth, silencing his moan. Timothy rumbled “Silence is wiser, here.” And kept his hand in place while he fucked his boss’s brains out… triggering the spell at the appropriate point. Once they were done, Timothy pushed a butt plug in to prevent his cum leaking out of Michael’s ass and handed his boss a spare pair of tightie whities. “Your boxers are soaked with your cum. Keep the plug in to stop leaks, and wear this for the day – I’ll get both back from you later.” After a deft touch to Michael’s mind to make sure he wouldn’t take the butt plug out, Timothy picked up his appointments schedule and left the office, heading for the locker room while his boss cleaned himself up and got back to work.

In their lab, watching via a viewing spell, Jonathan & Peter laughed. “A fitting recompense for our efforts!” Jonathan chuckled as he closed down the spell and summoned Nicky to bring cigars and brandy. “Indeed.” Peter smirked. “Boss Michael is gonna be Timothy’s bitch soon.” Jonathan laughed, nastily. “Which is exactly where he belongs – white guys got no business ordering black guys around.”

As Michael slept that night, Timothy’s enspelled cum did its work… sending him into a succession of horny, wet dreams of himself being Timothy’s bitch. Each dream remaking his sexual desires, orientation, role and preferences. By the time he woke the following morning, he was unable to stop thinking about Sir Timothy, and could not get hard or perform sexually for anyone else. Which was exactly as intended.

After a shower and breakfast, Michael’s phone rang. “Morning, boy. You ready for another taste of the man meat you had yesterday?” Michael’s moan of “Yes Please, Sir” elicited a deep, dirty chuckle. “Good – I know you want it. Just like I know you were having wet dreams about Me last night!” Michael blushed, unable to deny it. Timothy’s smirk was audible in his voice. “My place, 22:00hrs. Plan on staying over.” Michael’s assent was mandatory and inevitable. “Yes, Sir.” Eagerly, Michael cancelled his plans for the evening – and packed an overnight bag.

That night, Michael showed up at Timothy’s apartment as ordered… and his new life began. Gym boss by day. Bitch and fuckboi by night. Over time, both guys settled into their new roles. As Master Timothy’s control and dominance grew, He started sculpting Michael’s mind with His psychic gifts, turning him into the boy He wanted him to be. As Michael underwent his Master’s remaking, his need & submission deepened.

Things came to a head one evening, when Master Timothy rumbled “I think you’re ready for a chain, boy…” and Michael flushed. “Thank You, Sir. I’d be honoured to wear Your chain.” Timothy ordered Michael “Call Peter & Jonathan tomorrow, boy – I need to speak to them.” Michael’s eyes widened in apprehension. “Yes, Sir.”

The following day, Michael made the call – and Jonathan, with a naughty grin, ‘ported to the gym to see Timothy. “Yo, brother. How’s life, the universe and everything?” he greeted Timothy in the locker room. “Doing good.” Timothy replied. “Got my boy ready for a chain… and can’t stop thinking about that one you & Peter put on me. Is there any way you could-“ Jonathan stopped him with a laugh, handing him a black silk pouch. “We guessed you’d be looking for one – here you go. Fasten it round his neck, directly on his skin, with your own hands and let it do its work. After that, he’s your slave. Permanently.” Timothy smirked. “Many thanks, brother.” He took the black silk pouch from Jonathan and they parted company.

That night, kneeling before his Master, Michael felt the cold metal of the chain settle round his neck – and heard the click as Timothy closed it in place. But the next part was unexpected, as his vision was flooded with silver light which dissolved his free will and replaced it with total obedience to the man who put the chain round his neck. Reinforcing his submission and service, as the chain sank into his skin and turned into a tattoo. “Welcome to your new life, boy.” Master Timothy spoke from above. Michael answered the only way he could “Thank You, Sir.” And kissed his Master’s boots in gratitude. Feeling content, like he was finally where he was supposed to be. Under Master Timothy’s control.

Closing down his viewing spell, Peter laughed. Nastily. “Good work!” Jonathan smirked. “Indeed. Let’s invite them to pay us a visit. I’m sure Timothy will enjoy using our facilities from the other side – and it’s high time Michael gained first–hand experience of the equipment we’ve utilised at his expense!” Peter agreed. “Nice idea.”

Mark sighed. “Boss – does that mean I’m gonna be compressed into your trainers again? Like I was this time?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you like it? Thought you’d be happier with a change of form for a while.” Mark sighed “The difference was good – it’s the way you did it that I disliked. I felt like a bug being squashed, and I didn’t enjoy it.” Jonathan was thoughtful. “Hmmmm. It won’t be an issue for their visit – we’ll be in leather – but going forward, I’ll have a dig and see if I can figure out an alternative method.”

The following week, Jonathan called Timothy. “Yo, brother. You up for a private party this weekend at our place? Bring your bitch and we’ll all have fun – no shortage of white meat!” Timothy chuckled “Sounds good to me – when & where do you wanna pick us up?” Arrangements were made; Timothy ordered Michael “Clear my schedule – and yours – for the weekend, boy. We’re off to a party.” Michael bent his head “Yes, Sir”… and did as ordered.

Late Friday evening, Timothy & Michael finished up at the gym, grabbed their bags and headed to Timothy’s apartment. Sitting in the lounge, waiting, Michael’s eyes widened as the Door to Jonathan & Peter’s mansion appeared in the wall… to be opened by Peter. “Yo, brother. Get yourself and your boy in here. Fun, frolics & fornication await!”

With a dirty chuckle, Timothy ordered Michael “Lights out”, then led the way in through the Door, Michael following with their bags. As Peter closed the Door behind them, it shimmered and vanished from the wall of their lounge.

In the drawing room of the mansion, Jonathan greeted Timothy. “Welcome, brother. Good to see you!” Timothy grinned. “Glad to be here, brother – many thanks.” Timothy turned round and looked at Michael. “Jonathan & Peter are my brothers, boy. From now on, if either of them gives you an order, you obey it as if it came from me. And while we’re here, you conform to Their house rules. Understood?” Michael bent his head. “Yes, Sir.” Jonathan smiled. “Thanks for the courtesy, brother.” Timothy grinned. “No problem. Part & parcel of keeping boys in their proper place, is all.” All three Masters laughed.

Peter & Jonathan inscribed the house rules and code of behaviour into Michael’s mind, then summoned Baz & Nicky. “Take Master Timothy’s boy with you.” Then, to Michael “Boy, drop the luggage in the guest suite – our boys will show you where – and join our bitches in the kitchen. We’ll summon you when we need you – til then, amuse yourselves as per house rules.” All three boys bent their heads. “Yes Sir.”

As their bitches departed, Jonathan, Peter and Timothy sat back with cigars and brandy. “So, brother – happy with your new life?” Jonathan asked. Timothy was thoughtful. “Mostly, yes – but not totally. My bitch still runs things at work, as the gym’s manager. I want that changed.” Jonathan & Peter agreed. “In that case, let’s do some remodelling…” Peter remarked. Jonathan agreed. “I’ve got a few ideas – how does this sound…?” A discussion ensued – and a plan was laid. Timothy chuckled. “Sounds perfect – thanks, guys.” With smirks of anticipation, they clinked their glasses, lit fresh cigars and relaxed.

While their Masters took their ease, Nicky & Baz settled down with Michael on a mattress & duvet, set on the floor in a corner of the kitchen, talking quietly in low voices. “So, Michael – welcome to the boys’ brigade!” Baz greeted him. Michael smiled. A quiet, uncertain smile. “Still adjusting to it?” Nicky asked him. “Yeah… it’s a helluva change” Michael answered. “All of a sudden, the quiet young white trainer who worked for me is now the bold, dominant black Master who controls me and my life. It’s a huge switch – all the more so because I neither expected nor chose it.”

Baz agreed. “None of us got a choice. All of us were taken.” Nicky concurred. “While it could be said that I deserved it – which is quite true – I was given no choice either.” Baz & Michael were silent as Nicky added “The major benefit is the total loss of stress. None of us have to worry about anything except serving our Masters. They don’t harm us – they just use and abuse us. And whatever weird shit they may do, they never cause us permanent damage. We’ve been reduced to boytoys without a care in the world. And it leads to a very calm and peaceful mental state… with some thoroughly enjoyable sexual interludes servicing horny, sexy men.”

Michael was thoughtful. “I see what you mean. So I guess I should just go with the flow, then?” Baz confirmed it. “Bluntly, there’s nothing else you can do. You’re a slave now. Period. You can’t fight it – the chain won’t let you resist – so give in and learn to enjoy your new life. There are compensations – the lack of responsibility and the freedom from stress being the biggest one. Let your Master take over the task of running your life. That’s His job – and His burden.”

Sitting back with glasses of water, all three slaves chatted amiably, as Baz & Nicky helped Michael come to terms with his new life.

Later, Peter & Timothy summoned Michael to the dungeon, while Jonathan detoured to the lab – joining them in the dungeon a few minutes later with two vials. He opened one and took it over to Michael. “Drink this, boy – all of it.” Obediently, Michael swallowed the potion, which popped and sparkled all the way down his gullet, fizzing around inside his stomach.

Jonathan handed the other vial to Timothy. “Here’s your part of the process. Drink up.” Timothy grinned and did so – his potion oily, heavy, spiralling down into his stomach, where it coiled up & lay in wait like a sleeping vortex waiting to be activated. “Now, you know what you have to do. Get on with it.” With a grin, Timothy walked over to Michael, forced him to his knees and started fucking his face.

“MMMPPPHHH!!! OOOMMMFFF!!! UUUGGGHHH!!!” Michael spluttered as Timothy’s cock simultaneously caused and smothered his moans. Then, as his Master’s seed was shot down into his stomach, it charged the potion and made his stomach bloat… after which the potion transformed into a spell and permeated his entire body with a sparkling silver light.

Jonathan smirked. “That’s the extraction spell primed. Now it’s your turn.” Grinning, Timothy pulled out, hauled his boy to his feet and put him in the sling. “Here goes!”

“HHHAAARRRHHH!!!” “AAAHHH!!!“ Simultaneously, Master Timothy and His boy cried out as Timothy pushed his large black cock into Michael’s tight white ass… the roars and cries increasing in volume, intensity and frequency as Timothy came closer to climax.

“HHHRRROOOWWWHHHRRR!!!” with a roar, Timothy filled His boy’s ass with his man cream – activating the vortex spell in his own potion. Michael screamed as the two spells connected – and the vortex spell sucked his manhood out of him, transferring it to his Master.

Jonathan and Peter cheered as Timothy matured into the prime of manhood, rolling forward from his mid-twenties to his late thirties, while Michael rolled back from his mid thirties to his early twenties, going from a man to a soft, submissive twink – and gasped as the last traces of his manliness vanished and the truth of Baz & Nicky’s advice became apparent. With no alternative, Michael surrendered without a fight and resigned himself to twinky slavehood.

Once the transfer was done, Timothy pulled out… then blinked as Peter waved a hand, rewriting reality and changing his memories. “There you go. You’re the gym manager – and owner - now, brother; and your bitch is demoted to your secretary & administrative assistant. Nobody remembers that either of you were ever anything else. Also, your boy’s apartment is now yours – it’s a better pad than your old one – and yours is gone. That’s your life now, as it should be.”

Master Timothy smirked at His boy Mikey. “Perfect. JUST. FUCKING. PERFECT. Now you and I are both exactly where we belong – Me in charge and you under My thumb. And that’s the way it should be.” Mikey bowed his head. “Absolutely, Sir.”

Jonathan grinned “One other change… Masters should have the appropriate gear!” He waved his hand, put Timothy in full formal BLUF rig and installed the necessary skills, abilities and knowledge to maintain his Master’s leather into Mikey’s mind. “MUCH more fitting for Your new life, brother – and Your slave is now an expert in caring for and maintaining Your gear, as he should be.” Timothy laughed. “My thanks, brother – again!”

Timothy smirked at His boy, then turned to Jonathan & Peter. “Thank you SO fucking much, brothers. Wanna put My bitch in the stocks and go to town on him - just a small gesture of appreciation on My part?” His hosts chuckled in pleasure. “Thanks, brother. That’s MOST appreciated!” Jonathan grinned. Peter added “Tell you what – let’s put our boys in the stocks beside him, and do a round-robin thing on them all!” Jonathan & Timothy both burst out laughing. “Why the hell not?!” Timothy smirked. “The more the merrier. Let’s see how sloppy we can make their holes by the time we finish!”

Peter & Jonathan ‘ported Baz, Nicky & Mikey into the stocks, then all three Masters got busy. Later, once all three boys had been plugged, gagged, removed from the stocks, muzzled, locked in Carrara chastity, strapped into sleepsacks and locked in their cells, their Masters retired to the drawing room for cigars and brandy. Sitting round the fireplace, talk turned to the future.

“Doing the gym rat thing has been a LOT of fun.” Jonathan rumbled. Peter agreed. “Haven’t had so much sexy beefcake around since we caught that gang of sailors!” Timothy’s eyebrows rose in query. “Sounds interesting… tell me more!” With a laugh, Jonathan told him the story. Timothy was gobsmacked. “You mean that server – and those robots – were HUMAN once?! WOW! What a way to sort out a bunch of queerbashers! I take my hat off to you, brothers. THAT is something else! I’m impressed!” Jonathan smirked. “Thanks for the compliment, brother. You might as well know the rest of our story now…” Jonathan introduced Mark, and the three of them brought Timothy up to speed. Including brief shapeshifts to let Timothy see their true Black Fairy Master forms.

“WHOA!!! That sounds like one hell of an experience, guys!” Timothy exclaimed. “Thanks for telling me about it!” Thoughtfully, he continued “As you’re enjoying the beefcake brigade, why not keep on playing with it? I own a gym, remember – which could be an ideal hunting ground.” Peter was thoughtful. “Nice idea… we could repay you in kind by turning a few guys into personal trainers and so on for you as well. Then we all benefit.”

“Yeah...” Timothy mused. “Gotta say I like the idea of turning a few brainy little nerds into big dumb jocks, too… I know it’s a very overused trope in stories, but it’s always fascinated me!” Jonathan grinned. “Might even be more fun if we do a moonshot thing – find a skinny, clever twinky little nerd and put a were-jock curse on him.” Peter laughed. “But this time, we make sure he keeps all his memories. I wanna see him freak out!”

With a very dirty grin, Timothy added “Or maybe… we do it the other way round – find a nice big beefy dumb jock and put a were-nerd curse on him…?” Peter & Jonathan burst out laughing. “Now THAT could be real fun…” Jonathan mused. “Hmmmm… indeed it could!” Peter agreed. “And there’ll be plenty of suitable specimens in Timothy’s gym too – should be good fun!”

Timothy agreed. “Yeah – I can think of a few guys who’d fit the bill. Can you do it so the dumber the jock is, the brainier the nerd they become? The whole from-one-extreme-to-the-other thing could cause some BRILLIANT meltdowns!” Jonathan laughed. “Brother, you got an EVIL mind! And I LIKE that!”

With dirty mutual chuckles, all three Masters sat back and contemplated the future through a haze of cigar smoke and horniness. Neither jock nor nerd was safe now. And they all looked forward to exploiting that.

[forthegaze123]

The jockification process is almost finish... Let the headband insert all the cocky arrogant persona into her... Well, his brain.

[reformhim]

The Curse of Heat and Hair

Jasper was used to getting what he wanted. With fiery red hair, a slim sculpted frame, perfect freckles, and a smile that could disarm anyone, he’d long been the object of desire wherever he went. In the world of clubs, private lounges, and curated hook-up apps, Jasper was a twink in high demand—spoiled, praised, pampered. And he loved it.

He never had to try too hard. Men doted on him, from older daddies to cocky jocks, all eager to take care of their "sweet ginger prince." Jasper ate up the attention, enjoyed being delicate, pretty, the one being worshipped.

That all changed on a Saturday night.

He was out, slightly tipsy, shirt open, laughing with a friend when an Indian man approached him. Strong-looking, masculine, wearing a tight black tee and sleek glasses that only made him look more confident. He smelled good—musk, sweat, spice. His chest hair peeked from his collar.

"You’re stunning," the man said with a gentle smile. "Let me buy you a drink?"

Jasper scoffed. “Not interested.”

The man didn’t press. He just nodded and walked away, calm and collected. But Jasper kept going.

“To think he really thought I’d be into that,” he said to his friend, loud enough for the man to hear. “So hairy. So… earthy.”

The man paused in the crowd and turned. His smile never broke. “Careful with your words,” he said. “Some things you say stay with you. Some things… change you.”

And with that, he vanished.

---

That night, Jasper’s dreams were strange—humid, sticky dreams where he was sweating, panting, growing. He awoke with a start, his groin aching. His cock felt... off.

Pulling down the sheets, he stared in disbelief.

His cock was darker. Not just slightly tanned—deep brown, thickened. His balls had dropped lower, heavier, and a new scent hovered around them—spicy, unfamiliar. He gasped. “What the fuck…”

By the next morning, his pubes had thickened into coarse black curls. A trail of hair ran up his smooth stomach. His armpits were dense now, his chest beginning to itch.

He panicked.

He tried shaving. The hair grew back within hours—darker, thicker. He scrubbed and scrubbed but the scent never faded. He tried makeup to hide his deepening tan. Useless. It only got darker, warmer, richer. His freckled complexion gave way to smooth, tawny skin.

By day three, he was unrecognizable.

Jasper stood in the gym bathroom, staring into the mirror. His shoulders were broader, chest thicker, now covered in a lush forest of black chest hair. A deep treasure trail ran down from his pecs, disappearing into tight black shorts. His beard had come in fast and precise—dark and sharp. His eyebrows had thickened, his eyes now framed with eyeglasses and intensity.

He looked… like the kind of man he used to mock.

And worse, he felt it.

He took a photo with trembling fingers, not even knowing why. Just to document the end of his old self. This hairy, sweaty, intoxicatingly masculine body was his now. The curse had sealed in. His voice dropped into a deep baritone when he tried to speak. Every move felt heavier, thicker, like he carried a new gravity. His cock was huge now—and always throbbing. And his scent… it turned heads, both male and female.

He hadn’t even gone home since the change completed. There was nowhere to return to. His old life was gone. Men didn’t want to pamper him now—they wanted to submit to him. He reeked of power, testosterone, and hair.

But he didn’t want it. He missed his slim form, his delicate charm. He wasn’t meant to be this man.

He stared into the mirror, eyes heavy with regret. “Please,” he whispered, hoping the one who cursed him might hear. “I take it back. I’m sorry. I’ll never mock again. Just… let me go back. Please…”

But there was no answer.

Only the mirror. And the hairy Indian man in it.

[reformhim]

Under the Stars

Andrew and Samuel were an unlikely pair. Andrew was the kind of man who turned heads without even trying—tall, built like a lumberjack with that thick, dark chest hair, the smoldering eyes, and that signature red flannel he wore like a second skin. Samuel, on the other hand, was softer. Thin, pale, bespectacled. His strength was in his mind, in the gentle care he gave the world, and in the quiet courage he carried like a secret.

They’d been friends since college, their bond surviving the trials of time and the glaring contrast between their bodies and energies. What they had was deeper than appearances, deeper than most friendships dared to go. And still—until this weekend—they had never crossed the invisible line.

It was on their third night in the mountains, campfire crackling low and the moon silvering the inside of their tent, that Andrew leaned over and confessed:

"I think I’ve always loved you, Sam. Your kindness, your wit, the way you think, the way you look at the world. You make me want to be better."

Samuel's face flushed. "I’ve felt the same. I’ve always admired how you carry yourself—your confidence, your strength, your body... but also your heart."

Without hesitation, Andrew cupped the back of Samuel’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. It started gentle, exploratory, but soon bloomed into something raw, carnal, and deeply emotional. They shed their clothes slowly, deliberately. Andrew whispered affirmations with each breath, and Samuel clung to him like a lifeline, needing to feel every inch of the man he adored.

The sex was a dance of dominance and surrender, of bodies that didn't fit traditionally, but souls that did.

Above them, unnoticed, a shooting star streaked across the sky—silent, powerful, ancient.

They collapsed afterward, tangled together in sweat, cum, and warmth, the air between them buzzing with something electric. Sleep took them swiftly.

---

The morning came strange.

Samuel stirred first, blinking against the hazy morning light. But something was wrong. His limbs felt heavier, thicker. His breath came from a broader chest. When he sat up, he felt the soft tug of body hair across his abs and the satisfying weight of muscle along his arms.

Confused, he looked down—and gasped.

Tattoo on his side. Beard. Dense hair covering a hard chest and trail leading down to... Andrew's cock. Samuel’s mind reeled as he grabbed at the flannel shirt beside him, slipping it over this new body like it was his birthright.

His heart pounded—Andrew’s heart—and yet he felt a rising thrill, something he never expected: power. Weight. Sex. The overwhelming, intoxicating feeling of being... him.

A groan came from beside him.

Andrew stretched and rubbed his face—only his hands were smaller. His voice came out lighter, “Wha—what the fuck...?”

His eyes darted open and widened in horror as he saw Samuel—his body, naked, massive, hairy, beautiful—looking down at him in wide-eyed wonder.

He scrambled to his feet, wobbling on Samuel’s long legs. “Why the hell do I—why do you look like—”

“I think...” Samuel said, still seated, still marveling at his strong arms, “something happened last night. After the star. After we...”

Their eyes met. The realization was mutual. Something supernatural had answered their mutual longing, their complete devotion, by giving them what the other had admired most.

Andrew sat down in his old body, stunned, lips parted in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to freak out or kiss you.”

Samuel smirked, Andrew’s deep voice now his own. “Then do both.”

The kiss that followed was even more powerful than the first—because now they both knew what it was like to be the other, to love the other from both sides.

**I dedicate this story to @checkinitout76 a loyal confidant, dedicated fan, and inspiring companion to whom I express profound gratitude.**

The tent glowed blue around them, like a blessing from the heavens. Whatever magic had done this, it had done so out of love. And neither man was in a rush to undo it.

[reformhim]

Still Learning to Be Him

He sat outside in the afternoon sun, muscles baking beneath his black tee, a light breeze threading through the hair on his thighs. To anyone passing by, he looked like any other confident, casual hunk — a man who knew his place in the world, who had always been this way. But inside, Marco was still catching up.

Not long ago, Marco had been a twink. Smooth-skinned, soft-voiced, boyish in frame and nature. His world revolved around being wanted, being held, being small. But he’d wanted more — not just to be admired, but to be the man others admired.

He’d whispered that desire in the dark, to a man who only grinned and said, “I can make that happen. But remember — you might look like a man. Doesn’t mean you’ll feel like one… yet.”

The changes came fast. His limbs thickened. Shoulders broadened. Hair sprouted like wildfire — chest, pits, thighs, arms. His beard grew in sharp and black, matching the confident glint in his new green eyes. He was stronger now, deeper-voiced, and undeniably masculine.

But sometimes he caught himself sitting too delicately, arms folded the way he used to when he was smaller. Or he’d meet another man’s gaze and instinctively look down, forgetting what he'd become. And the way people looked at him now — hungered for him — it still made him blush.

He shifted in the lawn chair, watching the way the shadows moved across his furry thigh. He tugged at his short gym shorts, feeling a bit shy and insecure - they clung tightly to his thick quads heavy bulge. He adjusted himself — a move he was still getting used to.

“You can take the twink and make a man,” he murmured to himself, “but you can never take the twink out of the man.”

And maybe that was okay.

Because there was power in softness too. Power in the contrast — in the way his gentler spirit now filled this dominant frame. He’d figure it out, eventually. How to walk like a man. How to sit like a man. How to own it.

But for now, he just sat in the sun, letting the hair on his legs gleam, his scent grow stronger with sweat, and waited for someone to come by and help him learn what this new body could do.

He was a man now.

Even if he didn’t always know how to be one.

[forthegaze123]

Chloe gasped, a sound that was a mix of shock and a nascent, deep-throated rumble, as the coarse rope bit into the skin of her arms, which were now growing thick and striated with muscle she'd never possessed. The rough fiber scraped against her wrists, but the sensation was less of pain and more of an electrifying friction that traveled up her newly defined forearms and into her biceps, which swelled with a palpable, almost audible pop of tissue and fiber.

Her thin, reedy voice was swallowed by a sudden wave of deep bass, and she found herself groaning, the sound a wet, guttural exhalation that vibrated in her chest. Her small, A-cup breasts were a memory, replaced by the hard, pectoral mounds that strained against the flimsy white fabric of her button-down shirt.

One button shot off with a sharp ping, another following suit, leaving her torso exposed. She looked down, a mixture of disbelief and intense arousal flooding her as she saw the washboard abs, a six-pack that rippled and tensed with every shift of her core.

The schoolgirl skirt, once a drab, knee-length affair, was now a tattered, shredded thing, the fabric tearing away in strips to reveal her burgeoning quads and thick, muscular thighs. A low chuckle, foreign and yet utterly arousing, bubbled up from deep within her chest.

"Well, shit," the new voice rumbled, the words laced with a cocky confidence that made her heart pound. "Looks like someone tied me up for a reason, huh? 'Cause I gotta say, this body's a helluva lot more fun than the last one."

A lewd smirk spread across her face, the soft, round features of her old self hardening into the sharp, chiseled lines of a jock, all high cheekbones and a squared-off jaw. The transformation was complete, and with it, the change in her mind was fully realized, a shift from timid to dominant, from a nervous nerd to a horny, insatiable jock ready to play.

"Care to help me, brah?"

[grizzmantfs69]

BOOT MASTER CHAPTER 2: CUFFED AND RINGED

Late Friday afternoon… the Grizzly Cobbler was stinking of leather, glue, saddle soap and sweat.

Six months had passed since Folsom and the reboot that had changed three lives and brought a quirky, kinky, magical gay leather family into being.

Master Jonathan watched His boy finish repairing a customer’s Redwings. Nicky had learned fast. Training spells and the whip had seen to that. And enchanted tools helped his work meet his Master’s standards… Nicky did most of the shop work now, with Master helping out if things got too busy.

Master Jonathan spent more time developing His magic now, combining Nicky’s former spellbook and His own family’s magical lore. The safe under His bed was filling up with potions, charms and talismans.

Mark relaxed in the warm fug of the shop. Warm & comfortable on his Master’s feet and legs, he was usually a silent observer here. Talking boots scare customers, which is bad for business. He was looking forward to the weekend, when he had more opportunity to talk – and talk dirty, while Nicky licked him clean.

Nicky was nervous about the weekend. Master did a lot of magical experiments then – and often used him as a guinea pig. Last weekend, Master had used his great-aunt’s potion to transform him into a canary, and locked him in a bird cage. Master laughed when Nicky freaked out… then covered the cage for the night after he refused to calm down. The next morning, he was the most quiet, well behaved bird you could meet. Lesson learned. Be a good crash test dummy for Master. Drama queens not wanted.

Shaking off his nerves, Nicky put the Redwings aside for collection - then the doorbell chimed and his friend Anthony entered the shop. Normally bright & chirpy, today the young twink was limping, bruised and scared.

“Hi Nicky. Can you fix these for me, please?” Anthony laid a pair of burgundy oxfords on the counter – scuffed and stinking of piss, setting off alarm bells in Jonathan’s head. “What the - I fixed those last month. What happened to them? And you’ve been attacked, kid. What the fuck’s going on?”.

Anthony swallowed, trying not to break down. Nicky asked “Was it…?” Anthony’s face quivered. “Yeah. Stephen. Please - I don’t want any trouble with him. Can you just fix my shoes and - ”

Jonathan laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tell me about this guy.” Anthony stammered, trembling. Nicky spoke for him. “He’s toxic, Sir. Jock turned thug. Killed Anthony’s brother in high school. Got off with probation for juvenile manslaughter after his friends lied to cover his ass.”

Anthony swallowed and spoke. “I saw him kill Arthur. And it was premeditated. It was murder. Last week, he found out that I know. He and his gang beat me up to keep my mouth shut. And they won’t stop stalking me.”

Jonathan looked at Anthony, eyes full of green fire. “Sounds like he’s gonna kill you too”. White, shaking, Anthony nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of. But two of his gang are cops now – so I can’t even go to the law for help.”

Nicky looked out of the shop window, to see two thugs standing outside, others joining them. “Sir – the gang’s  gathering outside.”

Anthony, shaking, started to cry. “They’re gonna kill me!” Jonathan grabbed him by the shoulder. “Not if I have anything to say about it, they’re not.” He put his other hand on Nicky’s shoulder and spoke to Mark. “Home. Now.”

Anthony’s shocked gasp was left behind, hanging in the empty air of the shop, as Mark obeyed Jonathan, distorted reality and hurled them all through a tunnel of stars to Jonathan’s place.

Arriving in the lounge, shaken & disoriented, Anthony found himself clinging to a pair of huge arms. Above him, Jonathan’s deep voice. “It’s OK. We’re safe now. Sit down, kid, and catch your breath.”

Anthony sat, eyes wide, stunned. “Where are we? What just happened?!” Jonathan smiled, reassuringly. “My place. A few blocks away. We teleported here, so they’ve no way to follow us or find us.” Anthony looked even more confused. “Teleported? I don’t get it. That’s sci-fi stuff! What’s going on?”

In response, Jonathan, Mark and Nicky brought Anthony up to speed on their situation. “Wow. That’s…” Anthony shook his head. “If not for the teleportation and the talking boots, I’d be questioning your sanity. It’s a lot to take in, though.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah. Well done for NOT freaking out. Now, let’s have a coffee and regroup. I expect Stephen's gang will stake out the shop, so best we steer clear of it until we’re ready to deal with them.”

As the coffee machine hissed & bubbled, Jonathan went upstairs for his spellbook and a vial of pitch black liquid. Back in the kitchen, he spiked Anthony’s coffee & took everyone’s cups through to the lounge.

Nicky lifted his cup. “Cheers.” Jonathan sat down beside Anthony, handing him the cup. With thanks, still nervous and stressed, Anthony swigged the cup and its contents. “Nice hit of aniseed in this. What’s your blend? I kinda like it – tastes g–“ his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Jonathan chuckled “Good old knockout potion. Grandma’s recipe never fails! Now, let’s get him settled.” He carried Anthony upstairs to the guest bedroom, tucked him in to bed, laid sleep & healing spells on him, then added protective wards around him. “That’ll keep him safe and sound while we make plans.”

Back downstairs, Jonathan scanned through his spellbook. “Hmph. Nothing here I can use to sort those fuckers out properly. Damn.”

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Nicky asked.

“Go ahead, boy.”

“The shop where I got the spellbook might be a good place to look for other spellbooks and devices, Sir. It isn’t a thrift store – it’s a magic shop. A real one, not gimmicks.”

“That figures…” Mark commented. “I’d’ve laughed at the idea once – but that was before you transformed me.”

"Worth a look.” Jonathan decided. “Let’s gear up.” In full BLUF rig, with Nicky in jeans, short harness boots, white t-shirt, chaps and biker jacket, he grabbed Nicky’s shoulder. “Tell Mark where this shop is". Nicky directed Mark to a street near Fisherman’s Wharf. Mark twisted reality around them… and they found themselves outside a very unusual store.

“Hmmmm. Gilgamesh’s Magic Shop – for all your magical needs? Interesting…” Jonathan led the way into the warm, ordered, ornate place of magical wonder Nicky remembered.

“Good evening, Sir.” A golden-blond man appeared behind the front desk. His uniform looked like something spawned by crossbreeding a wizard’s robe with a suit – but the guy’s aura was something else. Recognition of another magical practitioner was immediate – and mutual.

“The name’s Gilgamesh – call me Gil.”

“Jonathan.”

They shook hands. Then Gil saw who was standing behind his new customer. “Nicholas! Good to see you.”

“Hi Gil. It’s Nicky now. I’m Jonathan’s boy.”

“What happened to Mark?” Jonathan’s boots answered… “I’m down here. So you’re the one who sold him that spellbook, then? The same fucking book he used to turn me into these boots!”

Gil laughed. “Please! This is a shop, not a kindergarten. We only sell to adults - and we take no responsibility for what they do with what we sell to them.”

“Hmph.”

Gil’s eyes sparked with interest. “So, Jonathan. Are you looking for spellbooks?” Jonathan raised his eyebrows. “Are you reading my mind?” Gil laughed as he answered, “No – just second guessing… I can tell you’re a sorcerer, and based on experience of other sorcerers, I know the most likely object of your attention.”

“Unlike warlocks, sorcerers can’t apply magical energy directly. It’s a different gift - you need an external delivery mechanism to apply it, so you have to work via potions, spells, artifacts, charms and talismans. Knowledge and power go hand in hand for your kind, and I never met one who wasn’t looking for more.”

“However, caution is needed - each sorcerer has a limit to their skills, and it’s dangerous to exceed that.” Gil brought a crystal ball out from under the desk. “Place your hands on this. The colour the ball stops at will show the highest level of knowledge and skill you can safely hold and use.”

In response to Jonathan’s touch, the ball glowed red, then rose through orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, pure silver white… finally turning a deep glossy black, where it stopped. Gil’s eyebrows raised. “Hmmmm…”

While Jonathan released the crystal, Gil unlocked a large chest in the corner and took a black leather bound book out of it. “The Grimoire of the Black Sorcerer. This should be perfect for you”. Jonathan grinned, feeling the book vibrating in harmony with his spirit. “Feels like it.” Gil chuckled. “Thanks. Good to know I haven’t lost my touch!”

Jonathan grinned, then went serious again. “Now, something else. A friend of Nicky’s is in trouble. He’s being targeted by the thug who murdered his brother, and his gang – and they’re out to kill him. I need to stop them – do you have anything that I can use for that?”

“Hmmmm…” Gil looked thoughtful. “How large a gang are we talking about?” Nicky answered. “Twelve, plus Stephen, their boss. All MMA jocks gone bad.”

“Oh HO! Then I have just the thing – that is, if you’re willing to cut a deal, Jonathan?”

“What’ve you got in mind?”

“These.” Gil disappeared between the shelves, returning with twelve deep blue rectangular crystals, each measuring 3”×1”×1”, and a silver cock ring, open, with hinge and clasp.

“These are capture crystals. Put a lock of the target’s hair in the base, then activate the crystal. The target will be dissolved and assimilated into the crystal. He’ll be one with the crystal, permanently. No way out. Only one person per crystal. These will deal with the 12 gang members.”

“The cock ring is a draining device – the guy who wants to drain someone’s manliness, size, muscle and dominance puts it on the cock of the guy they want to drain, then rides that cock. The more cum they get, the more they drain. Should be a fun way for your friend to screw over the gang boss.”

“Sounds good.” Jonathan grinned.

Gil nodded. “But there’s more. This is where your part comes in…” A detailed discussion followed. 20 minutes later, Gil and Jonathan shook hands and some extra items were added to Jonathan’s purchases. Gil finished by handing a small black box to Jonathan. “A bonus for you, on the house. Best use it before you start on that lot. It’ll help you with the work. May even be vital.”

“Thanks, Gil. See you later.” Jonathan grinned as Mark ‘ported him and Nicky home, with their purchases.

“Gil’s a lifesaver. This should sort out Stephen’s gang quite nicely, boy.” Jonathan remarked. “Absolutely, Sir – and Anthony is going to love using that cock ring.” Nicky grinned, looking forward to it.

“Now, let’s inspect this bonus package.” Jonathan opened the box, finding an instruction booklet and two silver bracelets. Each bracelet etched with 5 circles. One bracelet labelled “Sinister”, the other “Dexter”. The booklet gave the following instructions:

Sorcerer’s Enhancement Kit.

These bracelets contain ten rings of power, subsumed within them. Once activated, they will deploy those rings and grant you full use & knowledge of their magical attributes. Each ring has different capabilities. Together, they facilitate direct deployment of your gifts. This will bring your magical application abilities as close as possible to those of a warlock.

Gloves may safely be worn over rings and bracelets once deployed.

Activate the spell as follows:

1.      Remove all your current wrist & hand coverings & adornments – gloves, rings, watches, bracelets etc.

2.      Place the bracelet labelled “Sinister” around your left wrist, directly on your skin, and close it.

3.      Place the bracelet labelled “Dexter” around your right wrist, directly on your skin, and close it.

4.      Use your sorcerer’s gift to simultaneously trigger the magic in both bracelets.

5.      Rings will deploy to thumbs & fingers and make their powers available to you.

Following instructions, Jonathan bared his hands and wrists, put the bracelets on, closed and activated them. The bracelets fused into seamless bands snug against his skin… and started glowing with a silver light.

That light poured over Jonathan’s hands, then coalesced into ten silver rings, one at the base of each thumb and finger. Each ring established a magical link to Jonathan’s mind, inscribed full knowledge of its attributes therein, and sealed itself in place.

“Nice. Gil was right about these. They will help. A lot. And not just for this job.” Jonathan grinned in satisfaction, pulling his gauntlets back on.

The instant his gauntlets were back in place, a flash of light exploded from them and filled his whole body. As Jonathan staggered back, he felt his body stop aging. Removing his gauntlets again, he saw that the bracelets were smooth, seamless, with the infinity symbol – something like the number 8, but rotated 90 degrees – etched into the metal… and on his fingers & thumbs, each ring bore a different set of inscriptions, in Ogham.

“I didn’t expect THIS!” Jonathan exclaimed, as he pulled the gauntlets back over his hands again.

“Are you OK? What happened?” Mark asked. Thoughtfully, Jonathan answered. “It feels like my body just stopped aging – and the bracelets are marked with the infinity symbol. I’ll have to ask Gil about this – there wasn’t anything in the instructions about it.”

“It’s also interesting that the rings are inscribed with Ogham – the ancient Celtic counterpart of the Scandinavian runes. Not something I expected – the ancient Scandinavian lore is better documented & preserved, and is more often used in magic for that reason.”

“Boss – something's happening.” Mark spoke. “Feels like some kind of energy is flowing out of you, soaking into me and the rest of your gear.”

“Is it going out of you as well?” Jonathan asked. Mark answered “No. It’s saturating me, but going no further. Same with the rest of your leather.”

“Hmmmm.” Jonathan noticed his boots and gear turning an even deeper, glossier black than before.

“I’m full – and the flow has stopped” Mark told him… then yelled “WHAT. THE. FUCK???!!!” as the infinity loop appeared on both his toes. And on every other item of leather on Jonathan’s body.

Jonathan’s eyebrows rose. “Well now. Looks like you’re preserved for eternity too. Neither of us are going anywhere. This is it, I guess.”

“Yeah. Looks that way”, Mark chuckled, as the infinity symbols sank into him and the rest of Jonathan’s gear, then vanished.

“So be it.” Jonathan inspected his reflection. “Wow. Almost a pity I’m not black myself. A deep black Master in this deep black leather could be a very sexy piece of midnight made flesh.”

“Filed for future reference.” Mark responded. “I still have control of your size, shape & nature, remember? Had it since the night John first put me on.”

“Oh Ho HO HO!” Jonathan laughs. “Nice idea! We’ll revisit it later. However, we have other priorities now. We’ve got all the time in the world - but Anthony hasn’t.” He opened the grimoire and began reading.

A while later, having read enough, Jonathan closed the book and headed downstairs. “Time to expand the facilities.”

In the dungeon, he tapped into his rings. With a ripple of silver light, the back wall dissolved and the solid earth beyond was hollowed out into an arcane laboratory and workspace. Tiled walls, floor and ceiling. A dividing wall and door splitting lab from dungeon.

“NICE. These rings make life SO much easier.” Jonathan chuckled, as he created a large safe at the back of the lab and teleported all his magical texts, items & paraphernalia inside. Other shelves, benches and equipment appeared around the room, and Jonathan placed permanent protective wards around lab, dungeon and house. Magical work of this scale required a bit more security than his bedroom safe had.

“Good. Now, time to wake the kid.”

Jonathan returned to the guest bedroom, lifted his wards and spells, projected an aura of calm and trust via his rings, then sat down on the bed as Anthony woke up.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better. A lot better.” Anthony looked up, his face clearer & calmer, bruises & pain gone, and the fear reduced to a shadow at the back of his eyes… any lingering nervousness blanketed by a deep, calm trust of the leather master sitting beside him.

“Glad to hear it. You’ve slept long enough… it’s 9:00 pm.” Jonathan grinned. “WHAT?!” Anthony shot upright. “Shit!”

Jonathan calmed him down. “Don’t worry about that. You needed the time asleep for my healing spells to work… and we’ve used the time to sort out a way to help you. We can get rid of Stephen’s gang and help you exact vengeance. You up for it? I realise this is a lot to take in, but – ”

Anthony interrupted “Yeah, it is… but I know your magical abilities are real – my healing emphasises that, yet again – so I believe the rest of it too. And I’m desperate enough to try anything that might help. I’m in.”

“Grand. Now, we need to snatch the gang. Let’s check the shop - but first, we need to give you a safe ringside seat for the show”… and Jonathan tapped into his rings again.

“YOW!!!“ Anthony yelled, as he rapidly shrank down to a height of 6 inches.

“Come, sit on my shoulder.” Gently, Jonathan picked Anthony up and placed him on his shoulder, applying security and comfort spells to keep him in place, safe, warm and comfortable.

“Easy, there… you OK, little fella?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then let’s go hunting.”

Jonathan cast a vanishment spell, making himself and Anthony invisible, immaterial and impalpable; then Mark ‘ported them back to the Grizzly Cobbler.

Jonathan glared round the shop in fury. Downstairs, drawers were pulled out, the whole place had been turned over; the cash register was broken open and ransacked. Beer bottles and cigarette butts were strewn around, and the walls were stinking of piss. In the midst of this, ten thugs, two of them in cop uniforms, were sprawled on the couches, drinking and smoking.

Upstairs, the apartment was also trashed. Three more thugs in the lounge, squatting on chairs and couch. Smoking, but not drinking. Looking at them, Anthony whispered in Jonathan’s ear, “The big guy with cauliflower ears and the scarred face - that’s Stephen. The others are his lieutenants.”

Stephen growled to the other two: “Where IS the fucking brat? High tide’s due in an hour. We need time enough to slit his throat and throw him into the Bay before it turns.“

Anthony flinched. Jonathan murmured “Don’t worry – that’s not happening. These lowlifes just don’t know it…”

Jonathan cast a trance spell, immobilising all three guys in an obedient stupor, then repeated the spell on the ten guys downstairs. He laid a cloaking spell over the whole building to ensure they wouldn’t be seen or disturbed, dropped his vanishment spell and got busy.

“All shaven boneheads. Gonna have to use their pits…” Jonathan muttered as, downstairs, taking scissors and a capture crystal from his jacket, he approached the first entranced thug and made him open his jacket & shirt and lift his arms, exposing his armpits.

“YUCK.” The stinķ of unwashed pit hair joined the reek of piss, stale booze and smoke. The guy couldn’t have washed in a week. At least. Ignoring the smell, Jonathan took a snip of the pit hair, placed it in the base of the crystal and activated the spell.

Blue light flowed out of the crystal, dissolved the thug into a purple fog, and sucked him into the stone while his emptied clothing collapsed on the floor. As he and the crystal became one, the crystal turned red.

Jonathan put the crystal into a black silk pouch and slipped it into his jacket. Then, one by one, he did the same to the remaining nine thugs and to both lieutenants upstairs. All reduced to 12 blood red crystals in Jonathan’s pocket.

Only Stephen was left. “He’s reserved for you.” Jonathan told Anthony. “I’ve got something special lined up for the two of you. You’ll love it – but he won’t.” Anthony gives him a questioning look. “Tell you later.”

After locking up the shop, and putting a “Closed for Repairs – open Monday” sign on the door, Jonathan placed a hand on the entranced thug’s shoulder and spoke to Mark. “Home.”

The shop twisted out of sight as Mark returned them to Jonathan’s dungeon. Anthony and Nicky watched as Jonathan made Stephen strip and used restraint spells to lock the stupefied thug in place, naked, flat on his back on a bench.

Jonathan freed Anthony from his shoulder and returned him to full size. “That’s the first step complete. The 12 guys in the crystals have no way out. They can’t hurt you any more, so forget about them.”

Anthony smiled, happy but also apprehensive. “So what about Stephen?”

Jonathan grinned. “That’s where this comes in.” Bringing out the cock ring, he explained his plan. The grin on Anthony’s face was all the answer he needed. “Then strip. Clothes, shoes, jewellery – all off.”

Anthony undressed. “Can he be conscious while I drain him?”

“Heh heh heh… man after my own heart”, Jonathan chuckled. “Sure, why not? More fun that way. Here goes…” and he lifted his trance spell from Stephen.

“WHAT THE FUCK???!!! LET ME LOOSE, YOU PERVERTED BASTARD!!! I’LL FUCKING WELL KILL YOU!!!” Stephen roared, as he tried to break the bonds of silver light that held him in place. Realising he can’t free himself only made his shouts and abuse get worse.

Anthony smiled, quietly. Not a nice smile either. Jonathan smirked. “You know what to do. Go ahead.”

Anthony lifted Stephen’s 8” cock and balls, slipped the cock ring round their base and clicked it shut. A ripple of silver light flowed from it into Stephen’s cock & balls.

“GET YOUR FILTHY LITTLE HANDS OFF MY - AAAHHH!!!” Stephen’s roar turns into a moan as his cock chubs up and starts to rise.

As Stephen’s 8 inches rose to full thick meatiness, Jonathan helped Anthony up on to the bench. “Up you go. Hold on to the bar above your head and lower yourself on to his rod. Milk the fucker – as hard and long as you can. You want to get the biggest load possible out of him, at one go.”

“Sure.” Anthony climbed into position and started to go down on Stephen’s fuckstick.

“YOU FUCKING PERVERT! GET OFF ME, YOU LITTLE WORM!!!” Stephen roared as he felt Anthony’s ass enclose his man meat and push down. As Anthony pulled himself up and down on Stephen’s shaft, working his arousal, the roars became interspersed with groans of unwilling pleasure.

The groans increased as Anthony brought Stephen to climax, so slowly it drove the thug out of his mind – and backfilled his balls to the point of sheer blue agony.

“HHHHHAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHH!!!!!” Stephen groaned in ecstatic, unwilling relief… as Anthony finally let his abused cock yield and shoot the greatest load of his life. Which Anthony took, grinning.

And then, the real fun started. As he filled Anthony’s ass, Stephen cried out, feeling his essence being shot out along with his cum. And to his horror, the twink riding his cock grew taller and bulked up with muscle… while he shrank and became skinnier.

“NNNOOO!!!”

Anthony smirked at Stephen’s wail of protest, while he groaned in pleasure as he absorbed Stephen’s strength, muscle, manliness, maturity and dominance. All the while, he worked Stephen’s cock to keep him pumping more, and took it all. The helpless wails of his brother’s murderer beneath him became more & more satisfying as Anthony drained the bastard.

Anthony’s body bulked up with muscle, his face cracked and rearranged itself into a strong, square jawed masculine visage; Stephen’s body became weak & skinny and his face softened into a rounded, less mature appearance. Anthony’s bones enlarged and thickened as he grew from 5’2” to 6’5”; Stephen’s bones became smaller and lighter as he shrank from 6’3” to 5’0”.

The final changes happened swiftly. Stephen wailed as his cock shrank to a 1” nub and his balls became the size of small grapes; Anthony roared as his grew, giving him a thick meaty 10” cock & a pair of bull balls. Last, Anthony’s bubble butt became a top’s tight ass and Stephen’s ass expanded into a bubble butt. With that, the flow between them stopped.

The changes in testosterone levels enhanced their alterations… as Stephen popped out of Anthony’s ass, Anthony became a mature, ripped, shaven headed muscle jock in his mid thirties, and Stephen a little blond femboy twink in his early twenties. The restraints shrank to fit, keeping Stephen immobilised.

Jonathan grinned. “That’s the draining done. How do you feel?”

“Fucking GORGEOUS. Phwoar…” With a wicked light in his eyes, Anthony deliberately started inspecting and worshipping his new form. Tweaking his nipples, jiggling his pecs, running a hand down his washboard eight-pack abs and over his thighs; curling his biceps; stroking his huge cock; flaunting his manliness, muscle and manhood… in the face of the guy he just took it all away from.

Stroking his massive man meat, Anthony smirked at Stephen. “Look at this. All mine. While you’re a pathetic little pipsqueak with a cocktail sausage between your legs!”

Stephen was flushed, reduced to a young guy struggling to hold back tears of humiliated fury as the big musclebound jock taunted him with his own stolen power and maturity.

“YOU BATHTARD!!! THAT’TH MY MUTHCLE! MY MANLINETH! MINE! GIVE IT BACK, YOU THIEF!!!” Stephen shrieked, hating the sound of the high pitched lisping coming out of his mouth.

“No way, bitch. This is MINE. And I’m keeping it… you murderer.”

Jonathan smirked. “Anthony – if you’re serious about keeping it, take the cock ring off. That’ll seal the change.”

Anthony grinned… and to Stephen’s horrified wail of protest, removed the ring. As he lifted it up before Stephen’s face, it sparkled and dissolved into nothing. Jonathan explained, “The ring no longer exists – and there’s no way to reverse the draining without it.” Anthony’s roar of joy drowned out Stephen’s wail of horror.

But things were about to get even worse for the former gang boss. Jonathan grinned at Anthony. “Now, you’ve taken Stephen’s power and manhood for yourself. Do you want him as well? As your slave, your boy and your property?”

“Yeah. Perfect penance – take over his life in payment for my brother’s life which HE took.“

“Fair enough”… Jonathan grinned as he handed Anthony a black silk pouch. “It’s a slave chain. Put it round his neck and fasten it.”

Anthony clicked the chain into place round Stephen’s neck; Stephen screamed as silver light flooded up from the chain into his head, sucked out his free will and replaced it with total obedience to the man who put the chain round his neck.

While Stephen was being enslaved, Jonathan inscribed a full set of BDSM kinks, knowledge and experience into Anthony’s mind; finishing as the chain sank into Stephen’s neck and turned into a tattoo, sealing him into slavery.

Jonathan removed the magical restraints, grinning at Anthony… “He’s all yours.”

Master Tony barked at his boy Stevie ”Off that bench & on your knees. NOW!” Shocked and terrified to find the chain won’t let him protest or disobey the order, Stevie knelt before his Master. “Welcome to your new life, boy.”

Tony forced his boy to bring Stephen’s former clothing over to him, then dressed himself in it. Knowing that it underlines everything he‘s taken from his bitch by having him hand over the clothes he once wore and seeing his Master wear them. The polo shirt, braces, bleachers, knee high shitkickers and MA1 on Tony’s body, in sharp contrast to Stevie’s nakedness, emphasised their dominance & submission. Perfect.

“On the ground. Flat on your back.” Master Tony’s boot slammed onto Stevie’s chest and forced him to the floor. With His boy trembling under His boots, Master Tony glared and snarled “There’s a part of me wants to put you on that Saint Andrew’s cross and beat the fucking shit out of you, for Arthur & Anthony both… just be grateful that I’m a better man than you were. There are other ways to deal with little shits like you.”

“Wise man. Dungeon’s at your disposal for tonight. Do what you will with him.” Jonathan grinned as he inserted full knowledge of the dungeon equipment and its capabilities into Tony’s mind. Knowing that Tony wasn’t gonna go off the rails over his old pain & deep trauma. Though Jonathan wouldn’t blame him if he did – not everyone is strong enough to hold back in such a scenario.

Tony shook Jonathan’s hand. “Thank you.” Jonathan grinned. “You’re welcome. Now, I need to sort out the crystals in my lab, so I’ll let you get on with it.”

Master Tony hauled his boy to his feet. “It’s full coverage bondage for you.” Stevie quivered, giving his Master a pleading look. To no avail. “Yeah, I know you’re claustrophobic, boy. That’s why I’m doing it. Like I said, there are other ways to deal with your sort. You will make no attempt to resist or fight the phobia, and you will submit to all physical and mental conditioning & control without resistance. Those are orders.”

Master Tony forced a blacked out gasmask on to Stevie’s head & sealed it round his neck; put him into a heavy rubber sleepsack, sealed it so only the front of the mask was visible… and flipped a switch. The vacuum pump started; sealed in black rubbery silence, Stevie shook in fear as the air was sucked out of the sleepsack and the rubber closed in. His claustrophobia is triggered… and this time he can’t fight it. His Master has taken his willpower and ordered him not to fight, so he can only suffer.

Master Tony made it worse by laying him onto an inflatable rubber mattress inside a vac bed, inside a gimp box, positioning the heavy oversheet so its airhole was over the gasmask, and switching on the pump. As the rubber closed in on him, the mattress immobilised him from below, and Master Tony closed the box, Stevie’s mind began to wobble.

It’s then that Stevie found out the gasmask had integrated earbuds. And a hypno display in its blacked out lenses… as Master Tony started a hypno file designed to exacerbate his claustrophobia and turn it into a tool of mind control. And he had to submit to it. No choice.

Master Tony grinned. A very nasty grin. He sat back and enjoyed the sight of Stevie’s suffering… facilitated by the presence of a control device, on the box, that utilised magic to display and control the occupant’s mental and physical condition. Monitoring his boy’s mind, he fine tunes it as desired. Thoroughly enjoying the experience.

While Tony got busy, Jonathan took Nicky into the lab and got to work. He transferred the 12 capture crystals to a large tank, took a flask of crystal solvent from the safe, emptied it all over the crystals and sealed the tank shut.

Inside the tank, the crystals dissolved… and the thugs they assimilated dissolved with them. As they liquefied, absorbing the solvent, they expanded and combined into a concentrated red fluid, partly filling the tank.

Jonathan decanted the red liquid into a smaller tank. “18 litres. Nice haul. Now to refine out the impurities. The egos, the toxic masculinity, the criminality, the drug use, the love of violence… all need to go, until only the essence of the confident musclebound jock remains.”

Nicky watched, fascinated… as slowly, carefully, Jonathan used a series of magical refining techniques to strip away every unwanted element, pouring the waste material down the drain. When he was done, he had 6 litres of pure, transparent golden blond essence, with a strong musky & sweaty jock smell.

“Perfect.”  Jonathan split the golden essence into two flasks, holding 2 litres and 4 litres respectively, and placed both in his safe. “Now we’re done.”

In the dungeon, Master Tony had successfully turned Stevie’s claustrophobia into an iron fist of mental control, making Stevie unable to even think unless Master Tony ordered him to do so. Even without the chain’s control, that would keep him under Master Tony’s boots for the rest of his life. Which was exactly where Master Tony wanted him.

Grimly satisfied, and judging correctly that the full coverage bondage had done its job, Master Tony extricated His boy from it, put him in steel restraints, chastity, gag and muzzle, and locked him, trembling and silent, to a set of rings in the wall and floor for the night.

“Is that you finished, Tony?” Jonathan asked. "Yeah.” Tony’s face is calm, at peace – but his eyes are burning. “You look horny.” Jonathan grinned.

“I AM!!!” Tony yelled. “It’s driving me mad. I’ve NEVER been bursting like this before!” Jonathan chuckled. Dirtily. “I’m not surprised. All the manliness you drained from your boy needed space, so your old twink self was pushed down into your balls and turned into cum to make room for it. The pressure will be intense – wanna help spitroast my boy to relieve it?”

“Sure!”

Jonathan stripped Nicky and put him in the stocks. “Ready when you are. Which hole do you wanna take first?”

A while later, they put Nicky in his cell. Filled with both Masters’ cum, in both ends; plugged and gagged to keep it all in.

Nicky didn’t know it, but Master Jonathan had added an enhancement spell to boost the potency of Antony’s old twink self in Tony’s cum – and as Nicky absorbed it overnight, the cocktail of enhanced twinkiness overloaded his body and stopped its aging processes, making him a twink forever. Exactly as Master Jonathan wanted him to be.

Upstairs, Jonathan and Tony relaxed over a late supper, followed by drinks and cigars. Tony raised a glass. “MAN, that was good. Thanks again.” Jonathan smiled, satisfied, raising his glass of brandy, a lit cigar in his other hand. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s tidy up the loose ends."

Jonathan tapped into his rings and rewrote reality. “There you go. Nobody else remembers Stephen, his gang, your brother or the twink you were. They only remember Tony, the man you are now – and your little femboy Stevie, who's been your pet ever since he went to school with your cousin. You’ll find your family album, identification and documentation all reflects your new reality too, since I rewrote your past. Stephen’s apartment is gone – Anthony’s house is better, and I’ve added a basement and dungeon to it for you. I’ve also plugged you into the gay kink community, so you have plenty of connections when you want company etc. You’re free of danger, safe, horny and happy – and you’ve both got a new set of memories to square you with these changes.”

“Thanks, man. Thanks SO much.”

”My pleasure. Now, I need my bed… join me?”

“Sure!”

The next morning… “UUUUUURRRRRRHHHHHH…” Tony’s lusty moan over his morning glory roused Jonathan from sleep.

“Heh Heh Heh… that makes two of us.” Jonathan chuckled, languidly.

With slow, easy motions, each stroked the other in foreplay… then Jonathan turned Tony onto his chest, got on top of him and fucked him in a long, slow, pleasurable release for them both.

“Wanna swap numbers?”

“Sure.”

Jonathan took Nicky out of his cell, removed his restraints and set him to work on breakfast.

Tony removed Stevie’s restraints, cleaned him up & dressed him in Anthony’s former clothes. After breakfast and farewells, Tony took his bitch home.

“And that’s that – the really important part of the job is done. A murder prevented, vengeance obtained and a gang off the streets.” Jonathan remarked. “Now to finish up OUR loose ends”.

Mark ‘ported Jonathan and Nicky to The Grizzly Cobbler for a major – and mostly magical – cleanup and restoration. Shop and apartment were cleaned, disinfected and restored to order; cash register, machines and tools were repaired and made whole. Customers’ shoes & boots waiting for collection were restored and made ready as necessary.

Finishing off, they set all the gang’s boots aside for repair, intending to sell them off later to compensate for the cash their former owners took from the register. Jonathan took some of the thugs’ clothes and other possessions as well, for use in spellcraft. All the cash that was on the gang went into the register. Every other trace of the gang was obliterated.

Later, they took the larger flask of jock essence back to Gil’s shop. Behind the desk was a different man. A rather handsome older guy, wearing glasses, looking like a teacher on the verge of silver fox-hood.

“Good Afternoon, Sir. How may I help you?”

“Is Gil around? I made a deal with him a few days ago, for a grimoire, a cock ring and a bunch of crystals… I’m here to make good on my part of it.”

“Oh, the jock essence? Yes, Gil told me about that. I’m Simon, by the way - Gil’s boyfriend.”

“Jonathan. Nice to meet you.” After shaking hands, Jonathan lifted the flask out of his satchel. “Here you are.”

Simon opened the flask, took a sniff and smiled. “Smells REALLY pure. Well done!” Jonathan grinned. “Thank you.”

Gil entered from the back of the shop. “Ah, Jonathan! Did everything work out?”

“Yes – but with some unexpected twists and turns. The instructions never mentioned THIS.” Jonathan removed his gauntlets, revealing the markings on rings & bracelets.

“OH HO HO HO!!!” Gil laughed. “So THAT’S where that piskey was hiding. Sneaky little bugger! He smuggled himself into the shop in a consignment of Cornish crystals last year, then disappeared.”

Jonathan sighed. “That explains the Ogham, I guess. I’ve read enough – mainly Evans-Wentz - to know that piskies are tricksters… I bet the little fucker is laughing at me somewhere! Seriously, though, immortality in a mortal world will cause us problems of its own. I’ll have to do some careful planning to handle it.”

Simon chipped in. “Jonathan’s brought us 4 litres of jock essence. And it’s really pure!” Gil smiled. “Brilliant! That’s more than I expected. Did you keep some for yourself like I suggested, Jonathan?”

“Yeah - 2 litres. Think I'll have fun finding a few nerds to jockify… and maybe mix some of it with my uncle’s inversion elixir to twinkify a few jocks too.” Jonathan grinned, wìckedly.

Gil chuckled. “Look for cases where big meathead jocks are bullying smaller nerds and twinks. That combines fun with social justice. It’s a bonus.”

Jonathan grinned. “Nice idea – thanks. The cock ring also worked a treat. Nicky’s friend is now a musclebound skinhead jock master; the guy who was targeting him is now a twink and his slave. I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble from that quarter.”

“Nice one. What’d you do with the new jock’s old twink self?”

“Got him to shoot it into Nicky when we spit-roasted him… and used an enhancement spell to make it turn Nicky into an immortal twink.” Master Jonathan smirked at His boy’s stunned face. “Yeah – that was done last night. Your body isn’t gonna age now either. Get used to being My bitch and twinky little cumdump for eternity.”

Gil grinned at Simon. “Your turn to test our newest delivery out…”

Simon rolled his eyes. “OK. But if it turns me into a mindless meathead you’ll never hear the last of it!”

Jonathan laughed. “In it’s pure form, it won’t. But no more than 5 millilitres – one teaspoon - unless you want it to be permanent!”

Gil exclaimed “WOW. It’s THAT strong?!”, then laughed as Simon measured out 5 millilitres of the essence and swallowed it in one gulp.

“FAUGH! Stuff always tastes dreadful… AAAHHH!!!”

Jonathan and Gil laughed as Simon morphed from a bespectacled silver fox to be into a young, muscular golden blond jock.

“Dude! That stuff is sick, bro!!!” Simon exclaimed.

Gil laughed. “You sound and look like a college quarterback. Even your mindset is altered to make you a jock on the inside. That’s the REAL stuff!”

“You BET it is, dude!”

Jonathan asked Gil, “So the deal is done, then?” Gil smiled. “Definitely. We’ll look forward to seeing you again soon, my friend.” Jonathan smiled, keeping quiet as he saw Simon spike Gil’s coffee with a teaspoon of the jock essence. Bros will be bros, after all.

Gil and Jonathan shook hands. As they left, Gil swigged his coffee… and his jockification groan followed them as they stepped out on to the street. Jonathan had a dirty chuckle as the Closed sign went up in the window and Mark ‘ported them home.

Looks like Gilgamesh’s Magic Shop has a new name on their most favoured customer list. For a very long time to come.