âYour time at university will be one of the best times of your life!â
âI love looking back on my time at college. Thatâs where I met my best friends.â
âCollege? You might even meet the love of your life there. Christof and I have been married for 36 years now!â
âIâd love to be back at college⌠those parties were legendary!â
Every day, the comments of his family, the neighbours on his home street, his teachers, and whatever other people he knew swirled round in Hugoâs mind. For two months now, he had been away from his home on Deer Isle in beautiful Maine, living in a dorm room at Oxford Hall, University of Maine â surprisingly, also in Maine. As the first in his family to achieve more than a secondary school leaving certificate and thus be allowed to go to university, this was a special honour. Hugo had achieved good grades and been awarded a partial scholarship. Every day after submitting his application, he had waited for his acceptance letter. His parents had been absolutely over the moon and had accompanied him everywhere as he searched for a student room.
So now Hugo was sitting in this room, on the bed for which his grandmother had even sewn the bed linen, with his laptop on his lap â a gift his father had bought him with his overtime pay to mark the start of his university life. Actually, things couldnât have been better.
But then he heard a loud, dull thud and flinched. His flatmate Julian had come back from his lecture. And Julian was⌠the spawn of hell for anyone who possessed even the faintest sense of order. Whilst Hugoâs side of the room was tidy and reasonably clean â simply because he didnât own that many things heâd wanted to bring with him â Julianâs side was a completely different story. The whole floor was littered with worn, dirty AND freshly washed clothes; cables for Julianâs games controller and mobile phone criss-crossed the piles; half the bed linen was hanging down onto the floor and had become tangled with a pair of underpants â every door of the wardrobe was at least half open, and all sorts of stuff was peeking out of the wooden drawers, which was certainly not clothing.
And because it looked as though someone had walked into the room of a teenager whose mum usually tidies up after him and whoâs never had to worry about a thing in his life, it happened almost every day that Julian would either just trample all over everything in his outdoor shoes (!) or⌠that heâd go and fall flat on his face, just like he had now.
Hugo took a deep breath and closed his laptop. He peered over the edge of his bed and sure enough, there was Julian lying on the floor, his food from the campus cafĂŠ â a huge portion of chips and a burger already half-eaten â following suit and dripping grease onto the bed linen mentioned earlier. Hugo rolled his eyes before speaking to him.
âEverything all right down there?â Hugo asked, setting the laptop down beside him. There was no reply that could be described as words, more like a dull grumble. But as Julian stirred and sat up again, he seemed to be fine.
Julian was a bit taller than Hugo. But unlike Hugo, who had always helped out a lot on his grandparentsâ property, Julian was more of a laid-back sort. He was always relaxed and, above all, perpetually lazy. His father was wealthy, he was an only child, and heâd had a nanny his whole life. No wonder, then, that âtidying upâ wasnât in his vocabulary.
âIf youâd just tidy up for once, this wouldnât happen, Julian â your side of the bed looks like a pigsty!â Hugo added, slightly irritated, as Julian stood up again and had picked the greasy food off his duvet.
âOh, come on, chill out for once â youâre not my mum, Iâm a grown-up and I make my own decisions,â Julian retorted in the same tone. âWhat are the cleaners here for, anyway? Theyâve got to have something to do. Donât be such a pain, lad.â
Anger boiled up inside Hugo. âNot even a cleaner would dare touch your disgusting underpants â youâre a complete mess with no sense of cleanliness!â
Julian stomped over to Hugoâs bed and held a clenched fist out at him.
âNow listen here, I know how to keep things tidy â after all, Immanuel showed me how to do it before I went to uni and all that. So get a grip!â
âWasnât Immanuel your housekeeper, the one your father employs illegally and whoâs terrified of being deported every single day? No wonder heâs trying to teach you how to do it yourself! Itâs a hopeless endeavour with you!â Hugoâs carotid artery was throbbing wildly â he hated the way Julian always talked about other people. Especially when it came to domestic work, because Hugoâs mum worked as a chambermaid in a hotel and was so exhausted every day that she could barely make it to bed. Not to mention the rubbish pay!
âHe should be glad heâs got a job â even something as undignified as being a servant has to be done by someone,â Julian replied haughtily, sounding once again like the rich, spoilt little lad that he was.
Now Hugo jumped out of his bed too. âI wish youâd be in his shoes for once, because Iâm sure heâd make a better roommate than you, you filthy bastard!â
Suddenly, a clash erupted between the two young men and they were both flung onto their respective beds, whilst a blindingly bright ball of light suddenly rose from the ceiling (which, thanks to Julian, was also filthy). Hugo had to cover his eyes, so dazzling was the light.
âWhat on earth is going on here?â he gasped. Had the ceiling light just exploded? But even as he rubbed his aching shoulders, he remembered his flatmate again. His earlier annoyance quickly turned to concern. Julian might have been getting on his nerves terribly, but Hugo certainly didnât want anything to happen to him!
âJulian? Are you all right?â he asked cautiously, and once again the same grumbling sound came from the other side of the room. At least thatâs something, Hugo thought to himself, rubbing his eyes again. But then he was in for quite a surprise. A ball of light was floating in the middle of the room, and slowly something inside it became visible. Hugo narrowed his eyes slightly, but decided to keep his distance.
âThat⌠thatâs a bow tie in there,â muttered Julian, and without further ado he moved closer to the glowing sphere and reached out his hand towards it.
Everything in Hugo was screaming at him to warn Julian, to pull him away, but⌠he stayed where he was and watched as Julian stuck his dirty hand into the glowing sphere and actually pulled out a white bow tie. Then, with a soft âpopâ, the light vanished and the two men were left in the old, half-sided chaos.
âYou physics nerds are mad, arenât you? You did that on purpose â some sort of stunt just to get me to tidy up. And then just a stupid bow tie?â Julian sneered, waving the black object about so that the straps for fastening it round his neck dangled.
âWhat? No, it wasnât me, that sort of thingâŚ,â Hugo tried to defend himself, but he didnât get the chance. Because with a snapping sound, the bow tie flew out of Julianâs hands and settled around his neck.
âWHAT THE FUCK, MAN,â Julian shouted, yanking at the black ribbon around his neck, but no matter how hard he tried, it was no use. The bow tie didnât budge an inch. And then, all of a sudden, two things happened.
All of a sudden, Julian stopped fiddling with his neck and took a step into the room. âWhat⌠whatâs happening here?â Julian gasped; he seemed to have lost control of his body. Then he stood almost motionless.
âI, I donât know either,â Hugo stammered, now just as bewildered. What on earth was going on here? Was this a dream? It had to be a dream. And then, all of a sudden, the clothes Julian was wearing dissolved into a silvery dust and floated to the floor. So that he now stood naked in front of Hugo, who had a perfect view of his flatmate â a view he really didnât want to have.
But this silver dust didnât just lie on the floor; instead, it swirled across the floor and⌠dissolved everything of Julianâs that was lying there. One by one, accompanied by Julianâs whimpering, his washing, the cables and everything else vanished into the silver cloud. Hugo just stood there, staring. Until the silver mist suddenly began to move towards him.
âNo, no, no â not me, please not me,â he croaked in panic, but before the mist could even touch any of Hugoâs belongings, it rose up and formed a small swirl, which slowly solidified into a silver book that slowly opened.
Amid more panicked cries from Julian â and the urgent desire to stop seeing everything about his flatmate â Hugo initially looked past the book. Julianâs side of the room was perfectly tidy. In fact, it was perfectly empty, as if nothing had ever been there apart from old dormitory furniture. But then he looked inside the book.
âThere⌠thereâs something in here,â said Hugo, taking half a step closer. But Julian didnât notice a thing, frozen as if he were a breathing pillar of salt. Suddenly, glowing letters appeared in the book, forming a text before Hugoâs astonished eyes. He read the title aloud.
A Guide to Being the Perfect Butler â A Handbook for Beginners
But no sooner had he said this than Julianâs whimpering stopped. Hugo peered cautiously over the edge of the book and saw that Julian was looking at him. No longer with that annoyed look, because heâd brought up the mess again. It was a⌠look full of expectation.
âIs⌠is everything all right with you?â Hugo asked cautiously. The part of his mind that was screaming for him to get help seemed to have switched off. Instead, however, his whole body was tingling with the urge to carry on reading the book.
âRead the passage aloud,â Julian said suddenly, in a flat, toneless voice. Hugo hesitated briefly. But he felt drawn to the book. Besides, this whole business had already resulted in a decent second half of the room. So things could only get better from here. Hugo cleared his throat.
Firstly: the perfect butler must look good for his master. Personal grooming and daily physical exercise to maintain fitness are a must. Only a butler in excellent physical condition can serve his master excellently.
A gasp from Julianâs direction made Hugo look up. And what was happening there made his mouth go dry. Julianâs body, marked by a lack of physical activity and a life spent with others who tidied up after him, began to change. Before all this had started, there had been only a slight difference in height between the two young men, but that was gradually disappearing as a sudden, unpleasant crunching and cracking reached Hugoâs ears. Julianâs stocky frame began to stretch upwards. Bit by bit, his head rose higher, until he was now four inches taller than Hugo.
His blond hair, usually sporting a classic âjust-got-out-of-bedâ style, grew darker and thicker. Hugoâs gaze was fixed on Julianâs chest and stomach â as if in fast motion, the excess fat seemed to vanish, until all that remained was a slim waist with a flat stomach and a flat chest.
âJu-Julian? Whatâs going on here?â stammered Hugo, unable to take his eyes off the rise and fall of Julianâs chest. And with every breath, his roommateâs chest swelled with muscle, until he had a set of well-defined â but not overtrained â pecs. At the same rate, the changes spread further as his formerly flabby arms filled with muscle, veined and becoming stronger yet lean in build. His shoulders broadened and, with his narrow waist, Hugo could now make out a perfect V-shape. One by one, his abs began to emerge. Like a washboard for cleaning the linen in his masterâs bedroom. And indeed, there was one thing Hugo couldnât deny: he was slowly finding Julian more and more attractive. The sparse hair on Julianâs chest thickened and multiplied, creeping slowly across his rippling pectoral muscles and down his body. But then an invisible blade seemed to trim it, so that it emphasised the contours of his body even more. Hugo bit his lip.
âIâm on my way to becoming the perfect butler. Your perfect butler,â Julian said, now in the same flat tone.
But first, something else happened before his eyes. Julianâs cock twitched and suddenly began to rise, pointing at Hugo. Yet it seemed to be reaching out towards him, for it grew longer and thicker, pulsing in time with Julianâs heartbeat. Suddenly, Hugo felt his own trousers getting noticeably tighter, and he had to swallow hard as he saw Julianâs balls swell and brown hairs begin to sprout on them. They dropped lower against his hairy thighs. He liked the way this was unfolding, Hugo thought, watching as Julianâs feet and hands also grew longer and larger. Suddenly, Julian let out a groan and came, but no cum came out of his penis â just more silver dust.
âThe remnants of my old self have now been cast aside. I am on my way to becoming your perfect butler. Please do read on,â said Julian, somewhat haltingly, but his voice had changed. It was smoother, deeper, and it sent a tingling sensation through Hugoâs skin. This was all madness! Yet⌠his gaze fell once more on the book before him⌠he simply had to carry on reading.
Secondly: the perfect butler is impeccably dressed â appropriately, elegantly and in keeping with his station. His clothing and appearance are impeccably groomed. His demeanour is always polite, calm and unflappable.
As if moved by invisible hands, Julianâs dark hair fell neatly into place, so that not a single strand was out of place. Hugo had never seen such order on his flatmateâs head before. Then again, heâd never seen his flatmate⌠like this⌠before. His mouth felt very dry again.
Then, suddenly, a dark substance seemed to bubble up from the disgusting carpet. It crept slowly up Julianâs legs and, wherever it touched his skin, clothes suddenly appeared. But it wasnât the usual tracksuit bottoms that Julian wore day in, day out; it looked more like⌠suit fabric? Gradually, Julian was completely covered from neck to toe by the black mass, and the outline of a butlerâs uniform began to take shape. Hugo took a step closer to his roommate. But there wasnât much left of him, as he realised. Cautiously, he raised his hand and stretched it towards Julianâs chest, where the white shirt was just peeking out from beneath the black waistcoat. It looked⌠it looked⌠Hugo swallowed, still feeling the tightness in his own midsectionâŚ
âIf you find my attire objectionable, I can change my clothes at any time, sir,â âJulianâ interrupted his thoughts.
âNo, no⌠thatâs not it, IâŚ,â Hugo stammered again, letting his gaze wander over the other man. He was now wearing a perfectly tailored suit. There were no stains, not a single speck of dust to be seen. The suit was form-fitting in certain places, but without being indecent.
âIt⌠looks very good, a suitable⌠er⌠outfit,â Hugo added, rubbing the back of his neck. In comparison, he already felt underdressed in his jeans and plain T-shirt.
âThatâs very pleasing to hear, sir â please do carry on reading.â
Meanwhile, a new thought had taken root in Hugoâs mind. What would it be like to live with a personal butler? Because⌠he did rather like the fact that âJulianâ addressed him as âSirâ all the time. Unnoticed by Hugo, something within him was changing too. His attitude towards Julian was slowly shifting. He thought of him less and less as a âflatmateâ and more and more as a âservantâ. A feeling of superiority spread through his chest, a sense of authority. Over his butler.
Thirdly: the perfect butler has a keen eye for order and cleanliness. From a perfectly ironed shirt to silver cutlery arranged with millimetre precision, right through to the immaculate cleanliness of the house â a perfect butler leaves nothing to chance. Quality and precision are his top priorities.
Suddenly, Julian sprang into action and began to move about the room. As if out of nowhere, he found himself holding a feather duster and a cloth, and set about cleaning every available surface in the room. No corner seemed to escape his attention; he even wiped along the top of the wardrobe until he was satisfied.
âThe cleaning of the room is now complete, sir. May I now humbly ask if I may undress you, young master, so that I may iron and starch your garments,â asked âJulianâ with a slight bow, and⌠at first, Hugo had no idea what to make of it. But then that sublime feeling spread through his chest once more.
âThen take them off for me, Julius,â said Hugo, stepping in front of the others. Julius. Julius. Thatâs right. Not Julian. Julius was his butlerâs name, Hugo thought, as he waited to be undressed. Just as he always was. A proud smile crept across Hugoâs face. As was fitting for him.
âVery well, sir.â A few moments later, Hugo was standing in the room in nothing but his underpants, watching as Julius set to work. His clothes were now lying on the ironing board (which was always in his butlerâs room). But no sooner had the iron touched the fabric than the clothes changed. The simple T-shirt bearing the university logo became a pearly-white shirt â with skilful movements, the hot iron glided over the fabric, emitting steam here, whilst there he applied starch with a spray bottle. The finest material, well worth its price, deserved to be cared for in the finest manner, Hugo thought to himself. Julius pulled a hoodie from the coat rack, which transformed under his hands into a large, dark blue jacket. The jeans became grey suit trousers with dark stripes.
âHurry up with the outfit,â said Hugo, his voice laced with authoritative urgency. After all, he had appointments that shouldnât be delayed just because his butler was overdoing it! It was bad enough that heâd had to wait in his butlerâs parlour today because the dressing room wasnât available.
âEverything is ready, sir â may I dress you now whilst you continue reading?â Hugo nodded and Julius went about his duties.
Fourthly: the perfect butler obeys his master without question. It never even occurs to him to think of anything other than what might be best for his master â be it as early as the morning, deciding which newspaper his employer would like to read, when the coffee must be ready, and ensuring the umbrella is at the ready because the weather forecast predicts rain.
With professional movements, Julius now dressed Hugo: first the socks, then the shirt and jacket, the trousers, the shoes and, finally, the belt. Julius stepped back and Hugo looked down at himself. But he was not satisfied with the result. Not in the slightest â he could not let such work pass, not even from his loyal butler!
âIt seems to me that my outfit isnât sitting quite right today â Julius, do something about it so that I fill it out better,â Hugo ordered his servant, and Julius bowed before pulling up an armchair for Hugo to sit in. Then Julius knelt before him and unzipped the trouser fly of the suit trousers, which were far too loose.
âWhatever you command me, I shall do, Master Horatio,â said Julius respectfully, taking his masterâs cock into his mouth and working it. With every movement of his head and every breath, his masterâs form took shape â the shirt began to stretch in all the right places and every crease fell where it should. Dark hair filled empty patches of skin; a thick beard sprouted from his increasingly chiselled face. Well-formed muscles filled the fabricâs hollows, and more and more of His Highness Horatio VII came into view.
And with a sublime groan, the last memory of Hugo, the physics student in Maine, vanished from the room. Left behind were Horatio VII Vanderbilt and his faithful â and, above all, perfect â butler, Julius.
âHe has resolved that admirably; now, serveââ said Horatio, but Julius already had the daily newspaper ready on a silver tray and handed it to him.
âThe newspaper is ready. If my lord permits, I shall now attend to my duties throughout the rest of the house.â
Before turning his attention to the latest developments, just one thought crossed Horatioâs mind: what a perfect butler he had.
Hi tf-fans! This was a story for someone on FA I promised way to many years ago. I hope you like it!
