#daddyfication

For Sprix - Daddy Zest

The full moon was close to rising, keenly awaited by four guys. Jonathan rumbled “Not long now...” Peter nodded “Yeah.” Angus gave the fourth guy, an older grey haired man in bike leathers, a reassuring look. “Calm down, brother. Peter & Jonathan know what they’re doing. They’ll sort this out.” Alan nodded. “I hope so. It's driving me round the twist!”

It had all started about four weeks earlier, when Alan had vanished into nothingness at moonrise on the previous full moon. Right in the middle of his first meet-up with the gay bikers’ club that Angus led and which Peter & Jonathan belonged to. Jonathan & Peter had missed the meet due to previous commitments at their friend Timothy’s gym... but fortunately, due to their previous visit to Jonathan and Peter’s mansion, Angus and most of the others at the event weren’t TOO startled. Angus thoughtfully took Alan’s bike home to his garage for safekeeping.

Three days later, Alan called Angus. “You got my bike – can I come and collect it?” Angus was relieved. “Sure! What happened to you in the bar, brother? Are you OK?!” Alan was rattled. “I dunno. I was sitting beside you right through the evening... just went invisible and immaterial the moment the moon rose! I stayed there, but none of you could see or hear me! I only just became solid and visible when the moon set half an hour ago!”

Angus raised his eyebrows. “Hmmmm... get round here to my place pronto. A couple of our brothers, who you haven’t met yet, are pretty clued up on that sort of stuff. I’ll call them and see what they say.” Alan was relieved. “Many thanks. See you shortly.” Angus ended the call... then made another.

Sitting on their balcony, overlooking the gardens and parkland surrounding their mansion, Peter’s phone rang. “Yo, Angus. How’s yourself?” Angus replied “Needing yours and Jonathan’s help, my friend. Something weird happened at the meet a few days ago...” and went on to describe Alan’s predicament. Peter’s response was immediate. “We’ll be with you shortly.”

A few moments later, Peter & Jonathan both ‘ported to Angus’ lounge. “Yo, man. You good?” Jonathan asked. Angus grinned in relief. “All the better for seeing you, my friends. This one’s out of my wheelhouse.” Peter nodded. “Sounds like it. Jonathan suspects a were–curse of some kind. We’ll do some digging when the guy gets here.” Angus smiled, relieved.

Half an hour later, a cab drew up outside and Alan climbed out. Angus opened the door. “Come in, Alan. Meet Jonathan & Peter – Jonathan’s the taller of the two.” All 3 guys shook hands and sat down. “So, Alan – Angus told us what happened. I’ve a suspicion about this – may I check you over?” Jonathan asked. “Sure” Alan replied, nervously. Jonathan smiled gently, projecting an aura of calm and trust. “Don’t worry – you won’t get hurt.”

With a ripple of green fire, Jonathan scanned Alan’s body. “Hmph. Thought so. Someone’s put a were–curse on you. Means you’ll vanish from the first moonrise to the last moonset of each full moon from now on.” Alan’s jaw dropped. “What – EVERY full moon? For the rest of my life?! NO. FUCKING. WAY!!! This is a real crock of shit, guys!” Jonathan agreed. “Yeah, it is. Right now, the curse is submerged and dormant – so it won’t cause you any problems until it activates at the next full moon. Also, we can't break it while it’s dormant – we have to wait until it manifests again, then strike, as that’s when its inner workings are exposed and vulnerable. Let’s arrange to meet a few hours before the next full moonrise – we can use the time for preparation, then as soon as it manifests we break it. OK?” Alan nodded. “Sure – and thanks.”

Peter spoke. “Let me have a look, too – wanna see if I can find out who did this to you.” Alan sat quietly as Peter touched a clear quartz crystal to his forehead... then activated the vision spell inside it, took one look at the image that appeared therein, and quickly disengaged the spell and removed the crystal, wrapping it in black silk.

“Guy’s got quite a bit of power. Didn’t dare look for long – he’d sense me. And he’s too well shielded for me to find his location, let alone do anything to him. Here’s his image – do either of you recognise him?” Angus shook his head... but Alan went quiet and still. “I do. That’s Colin – my ex. Typical bitchy queen. Threw him out two months ago – caught him screwing around on me.” Peter nodded. “That figures. Hell hath no fury like a cheating bitch caught & punished!”

Jonathan was thoughtful. “We can break the curse, and protect you from further magical shit... but there might be a better way to deal with him. It goes like this...” all three guys listened as Jonathan laid out his plans. Peter was in agreement. “Yeah – that won’t be difficult. If you can slam the bastard hard enough to break his power, I can catch him for further treatment.” Jonathan was satisfied. “Then we have a plan. Best do it at our place where we have other assets available on hand if needed.” Peter nodded. “I’ll go and see Gil – think one of those capture crystals might come in handy on the night too.” Jonathan’s face was hard. “Excellent thinking, brother – even better than what I had in mind. Get an extra flask of crystal solvent while you’re there, will you? Our stock’s getting down a bit.”

Jonathan & Peter checked the lunar calendar and exchanged phone numbers with Alan. All 4 guys laid plans to meet up at Angus’ place a few hours before the next full moon rose, then parted company. Alan got his bike out of Angus’ garage and headed home. Jonathan and Peter ‘ported back to the mansion, where they made a number of arcane preparations.

Several weeks later, Alan rode to Angus’ place. Apprehensive about the planned work, but with no better alternative, he pulled up to find Angus, Jonathan and Peter waiting. Jonathan greeted him. “Yo, man – how you doing?” Alan replied “Not good. VERY wound up, feeling like I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. This isn’t easy to process.” Peter nodded. “That’s understandable. I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to get too worked up. We’ve done a lot of preparation for this, so you’ll be as safe as possible.”

Angus spoke up. “Alan – I wouldn’t’ve reached out to Jonathan & Peter if I didn’t trust them. If they can’t sort you out, nobody can. You’re in good hands here... just relax and follow their instructions.” Alan took a deep breath and nodded. “OK. What now?” Jonathan smiled, reassuringly. “Now, we gotta ride. Will be some special effects needed to get you both to our place. Angus knows what to expect, so just stay beside him, with me in front and Peter at the back.... don’t be surprised at what we do, and stay on your bike until we say otherwise. OK?”

Angus grinned. “Nothing to worry about, man – you’ll be fine”. Alan nodded. “Sure...” and swung out into position as the four bikers roared out of the city and into the hills.

Going up a gentle slope, Alan’s eyes widened in shock as Jonathan & Peter wrapped him, Angus and their bikes in a net of green fire... then all four riders lifted up from the tarmac, soared out of the world, over a rainbow bridge of colours Alan had never seen in his life and had no names for; bringing them down upon a flagstone courtyard before a grand mansion, among gardens and parklands, under a glowing, featureless sky.

As the bikes settled on to the courtyard, the net of green fire disappeared and all four riders came to a halt. Peter grinned. “Welcome to our place. Leave your bike here – it’ll be fine. Let’s get indoors.” Shakily, Alan swung off his bike. “WHAT THE – “ He blinked and caught his breath. “OK. Now, just WHERE the fuck are we?!” Jonathan gave him a reassuring smile. “This is our place. We’re on a dimensional ark, floating outside normal time and space. Weird, I know – but given our abilities (and our immortality), we needed a bolthole like this.” Alan’s eyes were wide. “I can understand that need – but the reality of this place takes some adjusting to. And the COLOURS of that bridge were just indescribable. Like, WOW!” Jonathan grinned. “Cross–dimensional bridges get that way – words aren’t much use when it comes down to descriptions. It’s why the ancient Scandinavian lore only describes Bifrost – the interdimensional bridge to Asgard – as a ‘Rainbow Bridge’ – there aren’t words suitable to form a more detailed description of the true colours.”

Jonathan & Peter took their guests straight to the lab. “We’ll do the social thing later. First things first. Let’s get started.” Jonathan cast a protective circle round them all, then looked at Peter. “You ready, brother?” Peter nodded, bringing out a blue capture crystal. “All good to go.” Jonathan grinned “OK – taking us to 15 minutes before moonrise... and synchronised.”

As they waited, Jonathan rumbled “Not long now...” Peter nodded “Yeah.” Angus gave Alan a reassuring look. “Calm down, brother. Peter & Jonathan know what they’re doing. They’ll sort this out.” Alan nodded. “I hope so. It’s driving me round the twist!”

Watching Alan closely, Jonathan saw the ripple of magic as the curse manifested. “NOW!!!” With a flash of green lightning, Jonathan struck – and Alan staggered back as the curse shattered. Wrapping a combined knockout and magical obliteration spell inside the shattered curse, Trojan Horse style, Jonathan yelled “FOLLOW IT, BROTHER!!!” as he dumped the broken curse back on its originator. Peter vanished, following the psychic stink of broken magic to its source.

In a classy apartment in Los Angeles, Colin sat back waiting for moonrise. “Hope you enjoy being reduced to nothing... Daddy.” He remarked, smirking. Then, as the edge of the full moon appeared over the horizon, his smirk vanished.

“AAAIIIEEE!!!”

Colin screamed and grabbed his head in agony as the backlash from his broken curse slammed into him. Going through all his magical defences, because the curse was made with his own power, which said defences could not block. As Colin collapsed to the floor, head splitting, writhing in pain, Jonathan’s Trojan Horse spell emerged from inside the wreck of the curse and exploded. Colin’s eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out, his defences flying apart as the spell obliterated them from the inside and hurled his consciousness into darkness.

Next, Peter appeared in Colin’s lounge with the capture crystal, cut and placed a lock of Colin’s hair in its base and activated it. The crystal bathed Colin’s unconscious body in blue light, dissolved him and sucked him into itself. Leaving his clothes and shoes behind, empty, collapsed on the floor... and a deep violet crystal in Peter’s hand. With a satisfied smirk, Peter wrapped the crystal in black silk and returned it to his pocket, then stripped Colin’s apartment of all magical paraphernalia and ‘ported back to the mansion with it.

“Yo, brother. All done.” Peter grinned at Jonathan. “Here’s what’s left of Colin the cunt.” He handed the capture crystal over. “And here’s all his stuff – we can go through it later and see if we can utilise any of it.” Jonathan grinned. “Nicely done, brother!” Alan & Angus listened, eyes wide, as Jonathan explained “This is a capture crystal. You saw it in its unused state, blue, before Peter left. It’s violet now because Colin has been absorbed into it. The absorption is a one way process – Colin has no way back – so he can’t bother any of us, ever again.”

Angus was shocked. “My GOD! You basically destroyed his life!” Peter nodded. “Yeah, we did. It’s a harsh reality where magic is concerned – the occult has no effective police or law enforcement, so we have to be a bit ruthless about dealing with opponents and protecting ourselves against counterstrikes.”

Jonathan agreed. “For your sake and ours, it was necessary. It’s a less pleasant aspect of magical work – we reserve it for real need only. If Colin hadn’t had magical powers of his own, we wouldn’t've used it.” Alan was thoughtful. “I agree, it’s a horrible thing to do... but I can’t help feeling relieved that he can’t ever threaten me again.” Angus agreed. “Aye, there is that. I gotta say, I wouldn’t've been too easy in my mind if he’d still been running around on the loose either. A tough call – but I’m relieved you made it.”

Peter nodded. “This sort of thing goes with the territory. It’s a necessary evil – nothing more.” Jonathan continued “Aye. Now to deal with redress – again, something we have to see to ourselves. And you, Alan, deserve some compensation for what Colin did to you. I’m gonna see to that now.”

Going over to a medium size tank on the bench, Jonathan placed the crystal in it, poured a flask of crystal solvent over it and sealed the tank shut. Alan & Angus watched in amazement as the crystal dissolved, leaving the tank partially filled with a shimmering violet liquid. Jonathan decanted it into a smaller tank. “Hmmm. 5 litres – more than I expected. Thought we’d get some extra due to his magic – but not THAT much more. He must’ve been more powerful than we realised.”

All 3 guys watched closely – Alan and Angus fascinated, Peter quietly interested – as Jonathan carefully refined the violet fluid, pouring the waste products down the drain, until he was left with 2 litres of a sparkling liquid that couldn’t decide whether it was silver or gold. After transferring it to a flask, he poured some of it into a beaker and added other ingredients, using his gifts to combine them into a glowing green liquid that filled the beaker, then turned to Alan. “All of Colin has been stripped away and poured down the drain, except for his magical life energy. That’s in the flask, and I’ve used some of it to make a rejuvenation potion in the beaker. 1 teaspoon – 5 millilitres – will take 5 years off your age. How young do you want to be?”

Alan’s jaw dropped. “My GOD. Are you SERIOUS???!!!” Jonathan grinned. “Absolutely. I don’t recommend going younger than 25 – that’s the minimum age for full physical and mental maturity – but other than that, pick a number!” Alan laughed. “Well, how many impossible things have I seen now?!” Peter quipped “None before breakfast, at least.” Everyone laughed.

“Give me a moment, guys?” Alan asked, and sat back to think. “You said 1 teaspoon removes 5 years, yes?” Jonathan confirmed that. “Then I‘ll have 7 teaspoons, please. That’ll remove 35 years from my age and take me back to 30 – a nice sweet spot, in between twinkhood and daddyhood.”

Peter grinned as Jonathan measured out 7 teaspoons into a glass, which he handed to Alan. “The potion includes a few extra enhancements... so, if you want to preserve your clothes, strip naked first.” Alan nodded... nervous, but starting to get excited too. “Can I watch myself change?” Jonathan laughed. “Of course – just stand in front of the mirror first, then swallow this, all in one go.”

“Thanks.” Alan undressed, took the glass and walked over to the mirror. Standing facing the glass, he chugged the potion all at once.

“AAARRRHHH!!!”

Alan roared as the potion exploded inside his gut and dissolved into starry light, infusing his entire body... then turned into heat as his rejuvenation began.

Staring at his reflection in amazement, he watched as his wrinkles smoothed out, his skin freshened up and became younger. Next, his grey hair darkened to its original jet black and extended forwards, reversing years of receding hairlines – and his straggly goatee thickened and spread into a full black beard & moustache as his face firmed up and hardened.

Next, his sagging torso, stringy arms and chicken legs firmed up and bulked out with muscle... as his back & shoulders straightened up and broadened out. His cock and balls blossomed, reviving from a wrinkly mess to gorgeous man meat, and grew longer, thicker & larger.

Finally, his renewed gorgeous young body was covered with a pelt of black hair – and he felt something inside him pushing out, as the ceiling got closer and he grew from 5’8” to 6’6”. The magic infused his body, placing him in a state of perfect health, and abated.

Angus, irrepressible, gave Alan an old fashioned wolf whistle. “Now THAT is impressive... you sexy fucker!” The gorgeous hunk winked at him – and Angus actually blushed. Peter’s voice murmured, laughing in the back of Jonathan’s head “Wanna bet they’ll be an item soon?” Jonathan laughed back. “No – I’m certain of it. And I never bet on certainties unless I propose the wager.” Peter had difficulty not laughing out loud.

Getting back to business, Jonathan asked Alan “How do you feel?” The young hunk laughed. “Like a fucking GOD. This is amazing!” Peter chuckled. “Now, loose ends time. Colin was a lot wealthier than you – and his pad’s a lot better than yours – so we rewrite reality, wipe his life out and add the best of it to YOUR life.” With a net of green fire, he altered all records and memories, erasing all traces of Colin’s existence, blending Colin’s assets, knowledge, financial skills, property and wealth into Alan’s life.

“There you go. Nobody remembers Colin, and no records of him exist. For you, your life has been adjusted to your physical age, and all memories and records of you altered accordingly. Your birth day and month are unchanged, but your birth year has been rolled forward by 35 years. I’ve also transferred all Colin’s assets – wealth, property etc. – to you, along with his knowledge & financial skills. Your apartment is gone, and Colin’s former apartment is now yours.”

Jonathan chuckled at Alan’s expression. “I’ve expanded your gear – and your bike – to fit you. Get dressed, stud – before poor Angus creams his pants!”

With a dirty laugh, Alan got dressed – but, feeling Angus’ eyes on him, deliberately made a slow exhibition of the whole process. Snuggling into his briefs, with a wiggle that did terrible things to Angus. Slipping into his t-shirt like a piece of man meat into a condom, the cotton stretching tightly over his torso, bouncing his pecs right where Angus couldn’t help but see them. Wriggling sensuously into his leathers like they were a second skin, and sliding his feet into his boots like he was pushing into somebody’s tight ass.

All the while, Angus tried desperately not to drool. In vain. Alan making his glutes bounce – inside tight black leather – was too much. Now it wasn’t just Peter who struggled not to laugh out loud. Jonathan murmured in the back of Peter’s head “Dirty fucker... gotta say I like his style!” Peter snorted in silent laughter. “Indeed!”

Jonathan transferred the rest of the potion to a bottle, placed it and the flask of magical energy liquid in his safe, and locked the door. “OK guys – work’s over. Let’s get upstairs to the drawing room and relax, and we’ll get our bitches busy with dinner.” All headed upstairs... with occasional personal noises in the background as Alan groped Angus’ backside and murmured dirty things in his ear. The two of them fell far enough behind that Jonathan & Peter had time for a long hard laugh, in private, after reaching the drawing room.

“Oh fuck, that dirty bugger!” Jonathan hooted. Peter, laughing so hard he couldn’t speak, resorted to mind speech. “And ye Gods, I never knew Angus could blush so red. It was getting hard to tell where skin ended and hair began!!!” Shaking in laughter, they summoned Baz & Nicky, then calmed down over cigars and brandy as Angus & Alan entered. Once all were sorted with refreshments, both Masters set their boys to work on dinner.

At Alan’s request, they activated a large flatscreen TV for a geology series he was interested in. “This week’s episode is on the San Andreas Fault and the Cascadia Subduction Zone. Both local, unstable, and with devastating potential.” Settling down, they watched the programme with interest – then discussed it afterwards. With a certain level of concern. “I never realised that the two systems were connected like that.” Jonathan remarked. Peter nodded. “It’s downright fucking scary, bluntly. The potential for disaster – all it needs is a big enough quake in the wrong place to set BOTH systems off – how the hell do people responsible for managing that sleep at night?” Jonathan was quiet. “I don’t know. It’s not a job I could do.” Peter shook his head. “Nor I.” Alan agreed. “I’m actually relieved Colin was so cagey – he refused, point blank, to invest in any projects in California and the Pacific Northwest due to this very risk... meaning I’m not exposed financially either, now.”

Over dinner, they sought to lift their spirits with a change of subject, turning the conversation to the next bike run. However, Angus was slightly saddened. “You remember your first run with us, when we had to abandon the original plans because Steve’s boy got COVID?” Peter nodded. “Well, young Jack pulled through... but not unscathed. Poor guy’s got long COVID. He’s a wreck. Too ill to ride... almost bedridden, in fact. Steve’s become his carer, now. A hard job. They can’t join us on a run – so we’re gonna join them.”

Jonathan was quiet. And spoke thoughtfully in the back of Peter’s mind “I think we should do something about that, brother.” Peter agreed. “Definitely.” Thoughtfully, they spoke up and agreed to join the run. Angus & Alan were delighted.

Angus told them “After Jack got out of hospital, Steve moved them both to his late uncle’s place in the Columbia Mountains – feeling that the cleaner, drier air would be better for Jack’s lungs. They’ve issued a standing invitation to all club members to drop by and see them whenever we like. Now you’ve agreed to join, we have the full club lined up for the run – which is downright fucking perfect.”

Peter grinned “Speaking of fucking... do you two wanna stay over tonight? Got a guest suite with a super king size bed available.” Jonathan winked “Privacy guaranteed.” Alan’s dirty chuckle made Angus blush. Jonathan laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes... we’ll show you the room shortly.”

After dinner, cigars and brandy, Alan grinned. And murmured something in Angus’ ear that caused a huge blush. “Guys – you’ll excuse us, I hope? I have a certain private entertainment planned for this gentleman.” Placing a possessive hand on Angus’ shoulder, he smirked as he guided him upstairs. Their hosts laughed. “Enjoy!”

The following morning, Peter & Jonathan didn’t even try to keep the grins off their faces as Angus and Alan joined them for breakfast... both thoroughly satiated. Alan with a smug, cocky grin and a smuttily satisfied light in his eyes. Angus’ hips so slack he couldn’t walk straight, his eyes in a happy post coital haze. Both guys’ lips rough and swollen with beard rash. After breakfast, both guests were lifted over the rainbow back to L.A.

The following weekend, the entire club met up at dawn for the run across the state to the Columbia Mountains. 98 strong, they cruised across country, then climbed up into the hills as the sun set behind them. Arriving at Steve’s place as twilight fell.

With a stunned look on his face, an older daddy biker bear came out onto his porch. “Brothers! And WOW! I didn’t expect a turnout like THIS! Thanks!!!” Angus waved at him. “Hey, Steve! How’s yourself and your boy?” Steve looked tired. “Both of us are feeling beaten down and worn out. This is proving to be one HELL of a load to carry.”

Angus spoke quietly. “I’d like you to meet two of our newer members...” – and introduced Peter & Jonathan. Both projecting auras of calm, trust and peace, they instantly overwhelmed Steve. As he bade Angus and everyone to make themselves at home, he turned inside and, soon afterwards, emerged pushing Jack in his wheelchair... to find Peter waiting for him. “Yo, guys. Tents are up, machines are on their stands, and supper’s on the way. Join us!” Pushing Jack’s chair, Steve beheld a marquee and tent city on the field behind the house, created by Jonathan, where everyone was settling in. “We figured the canvas was necessary – couldn’t fit everyone under your own roof.” Peter led their hosts towards a big outdoor kitchen, where they joined everyone else for supper.

As everyone looked towards the kitchen, where the guys doing the cooking were getting very busy, Jonathan and Peter walked up to Jack. Calm, trust and peace spells on full, they each took one of his hands in greeting... then held him firmly as they poured green fire into his body. Before the stunned, amazed look on Steve’s face and the increasingly incredulous delight on Jack’s, his body was healed of long COVID and returned to peak health and fitness.

Jonathan and Peter grinned in joy as they released Jack’s hands. “How do you feel now, brother?” Jonathan asked Jack. “Downright fucking WONDERFUL!” Jack answered. “You guys just gave me my life back. THANK YOU!!!” Steve’s face was wet. “That goes for me too!” Jonathan chuckled. “Indeed it will.” And laying hands on Steve’s shoulders, Jonathan and Peter healed and rejuvenated his body and mind as well. “You deserve it more than anyone – being a family carer is a hell of a weight to carry. There are few who would – or could – stand by him the way you did.” Peter told him, releasing Steve... who, his voice trembling, thanked them before hastening over to hug Jack. Both with tears of joy on their faces.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Bill, an older biker, exclaimed, his jaw dropping. Jonathan grinned at him. “Just brothers helping brothers, man. We’ve got some extra gifts, is all.” Bill’s eyes were wide. “Guys – extra gifts or whatever, THAT was plain weird. You’re making me believe in the kind of miracles that the pastor back home used to preach about!” Jonathan laughed. “I bet your pastor never told you just HOW some of those biblical miracles were achieved... the early Christians, and the Hebrews before them, utilised a lot more magic than modern Christians are comfortable with!”

Bill wasn’t the only one stunned by the healing and rejuvenation – shock & raised eyebrows were widespread among the members who hadn’t previously met Peter & Jonathan – but grins of delight and approval followed as the results became clear. The gathering round the bonfire was a lot more cheerful and merry than had been expected. Jonathan and Peter spent most of the night in the company of Steve, Jack, Angus and Alan.

The next day, the members who hadn’t previously met Peter and Jonathan gathered in the marquee as their story was told. With the obligatory shapeshifts along the way. Dan, a rough old school biker, growled “I’ve seen the demonstrations and I still don’t believe it. You guys got a LOT more work to do if you wanna convince ME.”

Jonathan grinned. “How about this?!” as he wrapped Dan with a web of green magic, dissolved his body into a ball of green light, shrank the ball and brought it over to the palm of his hand... where he reconstituted Dan’s body as a 6 inch tall version of itself. He transferred the shocked guy to his left shoulder, protecting and securing him in place with the necessary spells and providing downsized food, drink and smokes for him. Along with a couple of sanitary spells to take care of piss and shit.

“HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT!!!” Dan yelled. Jonathan and Peter both laughed. “Believe us now, little guy?” Dan took a deep breath... “Yeah, I do – though it’ll take a bit of time to get my head around this.” Jonathan grinned. “Well, you’ve got food, smokes & drinks there – and we’ve used a few spells to keep you safe, secure, and handle your piss & shit... so just chill and cogitate a bit.” Peter added “It’s easier to face it while you’re changed – stops all the mental tricks and shenanigans that the mind can pull from getting in the way.”

As his current situation sank in, Dan took a deep breath, lit a cigar, popped a can of beer, and tried to relax. It proved surprisingly easy. Long cogitations and conversations followed throughout the day as Dan spent it on Jonathan’s shoulder, getting gradually more and more drunk and stoned, without a care in the world. As dinnertime approached, Jonathan removed Dan from his shoulder and returned him to full size. “All good there, big man?” Dan laughed “Sure. Though I’ll never look at the world the same way, ever again. Thanks, brother.” Jonathan grinned. “Glad it’s been useful.” Dan joined Jonathan and Peter by the fire.

Many hours later, the moon riding high in the heavens, they sat round the dying bonfire. Bed was on everyone’s mind. Rick rumbled “Been a bloody good run. And what you two guys did for Steve and Jack is something else.” Dan laughed “Yeah – and riding your shoulder like that was sick, man. I just had the most carefree day of my life, doing that. Didn’t have ANYTHING to worry about!” Jonathan laughed. “There’ll be more runs in the future, brother... we can always do it again sometime.” Dan grinned. “I’ll look forward to it – many thanks!”

Suddenly, the peace of the night was shattered, as the birds awoke and called out in panic; the land animals all dived into their holes; and the earth beneath everyone’s backsides shook. Jonathan and Peter instantly wrapped everyone in protective spells... as the shaking got worse. And worse. Rumbling on... and on... and on, for what seemed an eternity.

Eventually, the tremors ceased, and the earth quietened. Jonathan & Peter checked the place out. Tents collapsed, bikes fallen over, trees down, house and barn badly damaged. After some extensive cleanup, salvage, repair and restoration work – both magical and physical – everyone regrouped round the bonfire, which was rebuilt and relit. Faces were grave. “If that was this bad here, what state is the coast in?” Rick asked. Angus answered “Probably wrecked. To be that bad up here, it must’ve been the big one.” A grim silence spread among the group. Peter spoke in the back of Jonathan’s head. “I think we should check it out.” Jonathan agreed, and spoke. “Guys – everyone here’s OK; so sit tight and we’ll go have a look.” Peter added “Might be a while... don’t wait up. We’ll be back ASAP.” Both guys vanished into thin air. Eventually, everyone went to bed. Jonathan & Peter did not return that night – they spent it out and about, ‘porting hither and thither, surveying the scope and the damage of the earthquake.

Gathered round a breakfast table in the marquee the next morning, munching and talking, everyone fell quiet as Jonathan & Peter entered the tent. Both their faces gray, shocked and tired. Peter spoke first. “It’s bad. REALLY bad.” Jonathan nodded, grimly. “Looks like BOTH Cascadia and San Andreas kicked off. Big time. I guess it must’ve been at least a magnitude 9. Maybe even higher.” A horrified silence fell.

Peter picked up the narrative. “The San Andreas fault has cracked open along its entire length. There’s a huge inlet opened – you can sail a boat down its length now, from the southern end of San Francisco Bay all the way to the Salton Sea. Every town and city along the way has been obliterated. The coast to the west of the fault has been pushed down and over – Los Angeles and every other community west of the Coastal Ranges has been torn apart and either partially or completely submerged into the ocean.”

Grimly, Jonathan added “And that’s not all. The San Andreas has split to the north as well – the entire coast from north of the bay up to Cape Mendocino has sheered off and fallen into the sea. Further north, Cascadia has ruptured and caused severe coastal subsidence right through Oregon and Washington State. Seattle and Portland have both taken a beating – quake, fires and tsunamis have wrought hell there, and both cities have partially sunk into the ocean. The USGS has triggered the volcano alert systems as well – as San Andreas, Cascadia and the Cascade volcanoes are part of the local section of the Ring of Fire systems, they consider the quake has a high probability of triggering eruptions.”

Peter added “Everyone’s crossing their fingers and praying that the volcanoes stay quiet. Mount Rainier's lahars are the last thing Seattle needs right now. And ash from Mount St. Helens would seriously hinder rescue and disaster relief efforts. San Francisco seems to have been lucky. It’s been damaged badly by the quake and tsunami, but has been spared the land collapse. It hasn’t sunk into the ocean. Though all the bridges – including the Golden Gate – are gone.”

Diego swore “Mierda!” Angus agreed. “Looks like we’re all homeless. Most of us are coastal guys.” Alan nodded. “And even those of us whose homes are still intact will have problems trying to get to them – I expect highway collapses, severe road damage, etc. will have occurred.” Peter confirmed it. “Remember the quake years ago that pancaked the multi level highways in L.A.? That’s nothing compared to the way things are now. The eastern half of L.A. has been reduced to rubble – and the western half has sunk into the ocean. Along with all the land between the city and the old coastline.”

Jaws dropped. Rick spoke quietly. “The death toll... I don’t want to think about it.” Jonathan nodded, sadly. “Judging by the bodies we saw – rafts of them, floating in the ocean – and the devastation on land, I expect it’ll be in the millions. Hitting at night like that, on a weekend, a lot of people were in bed. Of those who were awake, many were drunk, stoned or high. None of them would’ve been able to react in time to save themselves. It’s going to take years and years to recover from this – and some places may never recover. The coastal rupture has created brand new cliffs from north of the Bay all the way to where Cape Mendocino used to be, so the coastal towns have either been obliterated or have lost their beaches and their access to the water. I doubt they’ll ever be rebuilt.”

Stuart’s jaw dropped “Wait a moment – you said where the cape USED to be?!” Peter nodded. “It collapsed completely into the ocean. It’s gone.” Stuart and Anthony were shocked. “FUCK!!!” A quiet, grim silence fell across the gathering. Steve spoke up. “Guys – if you want to stay here, you’re welcome to do so. Might be the best option for now.” Murmurs of assent rippled over the room.

“There’s our place as well.” Jonathan added. “Which might even be better, as we’ll be completely out of the way of any volcanic shit that might kick off. We’ve the advantage of being able to swim across the timestream there to get past the worst of the disaster and recovery phases here, along with swimming back in time a bit to salvage as much of your stuff as we can from before the quake. Storage won’t be a problem either – our dimensional ark has plenty of room for that. It’s a bolthole that could save your bacon.”

Peter concurred, adding “We can wrap this place in protective wards etc. while we’re away – make sure nobody interferes with it in our absence.”

Thoughtfully, all the guys talked it over. With extensive input from those who’d been there. Peter suggested “Give it a try. We can always return here if it doesn’t work out.” Jack finally remarked “Worth a shot – let’s give it a go. Besides, we’re all ‘friends of Dorothy’, to use an old term... so why SHOULDN’T we go over the rainbow?!” Groans, eye rolls and sarcastic laughter greeted that statement. “What the hell – if we don’t try it, we’ll never know. Worth a shot!” Steve grinned. “Now, how do we do this?” Jonathan smiled. “We get on our machines and ride up higher into the hills. I need to lead, with Peter at the rear – nobody in front of me, nobody behind Peter. Once we’re ready, we’ll lift you all in between us. Don’t be alarmed, and don’t stop or get off your machines until we land on our courtyard. OK?”

All in agreement, they got ready and climbed onto their bikes. Some nervous, some eager... Steve and Jack buzzing with sheer excitement as they hauled their bikes out of the garage and climbed back onto the machines they’d never expected to ride again. The 20 guys who’d been over the rainbow bridge before spaced themselves out amongst the rest, providing reassurance and calming nerves. All ready, they followed Jonathan up, higher into the mountains. But not for long. The 20 riders who knew what to expect all grinned in excitement as the familiar net of green fire wrapped them and their machines; the rest gasped in shock... as Jonathan & Peter lifted everyone up, off the ground, out of the world, over the rainbow bridge, and brought them to rest on the flagstones of their mansion’s courtyard.

The 20 guys who’d been across the rainbow before grinned, laughing in joy as they kicked their stands down, swung off their bikes and turned to the other 78 riders who, awed, were shakily dismounting.

Bill was freaking out. “Guys – WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE???!!!” Jonathan & Peter grinned at him. “At our mansion, on the dimensional ark we told you of. How do you like it?” Bill’s eyes were wide, his body shaking. “Brothers – help. This is a bit of a head stretch... and I’m not sure my head is stretchable enough for it!”

Gently, Jonathan wrapped Bill – and a few other guys who were just as badly rattled – in a spell of calm reassurance. Soothing away the fear, the shock and the disorientation, he quietly adjusted their minds until understanding and acceptance were achieved.

Once the gathering had calmed down, Peter spoke. “Welcome to our home, brothers. Let’s get inside and get settled. Leave the machines where they are – they’re quite safe out here.”

Urged on by the 20 who knew their way around, everyone followed their hosts to the drawing room, where Peter & Jonathan summoned Nicky & Baz. “Brothers – drinks, smokes and snacks are available. Give our bitches your orders, then sit down and get comfortable.” Peter told everyone. Looking at Baz & Nicky, Jonathan added “Boys – with this number of guests, you’re going to need some assistance. I’ll have the housekeeping server assign a few drones.” Jonathan accessed a handheld wireless device and sent the necessary commands. 5 drones entered the room and started serving the guests. Causing wide eyes among the first time visitors. “Wow – robot servants! That’s SO cool!” Jack exclaimed. Russell laughed. “Gave us a helluva shock the first time we saw them, believe me!” Peter and Jonathan smirked, keeping quiet about the origins of the drones.

As the guys settled back with cigars, brandy, beer, finger foods and so on, questions and conversations began. “So this is the dimensional ark you told us about, then?” Steve asked Jonathan. “Yes, it is.” Jonathan answered. “We’re totally disconnected from time here, so we’ve no need to rush. After we’ve shown you to your rooms, we can chill out, have some fun...then after we’ve had a good night’s sleep, we’ll have the energy to swim the timestream back a few days, salvage everyone's stuff and put it into storage here.”

With a pleased chorus of agreement, everyone relaxed. Much later, after dinner, Jonathan & Peter showed their guests to their bedrooms to unpack and get a good rest. Relaxing in their master suite, Peter remarked “I used to think you had delusions of grandeur, making this place so massive. Now I’m just glad you DID make it so big.” Jonathan agreed. “Better too much space than too little, brother.”

The following morning, after breakfast, Peter & Jonathan took the ark across the timestream to the morning immediately before the quake, secured it in place, then gathered everyone together. Jonathan spoke. “Right. Salvage time. Our magical lair can’t hold everyone, so we do this in one group of 8, then 9 more groups of 10. We’ll take each group to the lab, locate and extract each guy’s stuff from their place the morning before the quake, then bring them back up here so the next group can go down. Let’s get started!”

Angus, Alan, Diego, Russell, Stuart, Anthony, Steve and Jack made up the first group. Jonathan grinned and created a series of underground storage units within the hull of the ark, adding a new entrance to the facility in the basement vestibule.

“OK. Who’s first?” Russell stepped forward; Jonathan placed a hand on his shoulder and calmed his mind. “Now, bring the location of your apartment and your stuff to the front of your mind.” Russell did so; Jonathan touched his mind, waved his hand and the inside of Russell’s apartment appeared via a viewing spell on the wall. Carefully, under Russell’s direction, Jonathan ‘ported all his possessions from the flat and placed them in the first storage unit, then handed him the key. “The unit number is on the tab. Check it over, then come back here. Any problems, let me know.” Russell grinned. “Thanks – will do!” and headed out of the lab. Jonathan called Angus forward. “Your turn.” Shortly afterwards, Angus was off to check his storage unit too. Then Alan. And so on.

Once all 8 were seen to, Jonathan led them upstairs and Peter took the next group of 10 downstairs. Both Masters took alternate groups, splitting the load and taking a dose of a restorative potion after each group was done. Finally, it was finished.

Jonathan unhitched the dimensional ark from Earth time. “Now, brothers, that’s the most urgent stuff done. By now, I’m sure those of you who haven’t been here before have heard all the stories from those who have. Magical malarkey is available for those who want it, and we’ve all the time in the multiverse to enjoy it. Anyone want to give it a go – and what’s your fantasy? Nothing permanent or irreversible; usual 12 hour time limit, followed by automatic reversion, applies.”

Angus grinned as he asked “We’ve got a lot of guys interested in bodyswapping – can we do a mass swap again?” Jonathan grinned. “No surprise there! However, given the increase in numbers compared to last time, this will be a huge bodyswap marathon – which, for the older guys’ bodies, could be a bit much... so let’s rejuvenate you all first.” With a wave of his hand, every guy older than 30 instantly had his body regressed to the age of 30 – and everybody, regardless of age, was restored to perfect health and peak fitness. Jonathan finished with a reality rewrite, adjusting all records and memories of the rejuvenated guys to fit their new ages.

Jonathan grinned at the stunned looks on their faces. “Rejuvenation is permanent – and I’ve rewritten reality so all records, documents, and memories of you are adjusted accordingly. Nobody else remembers you being older, and your birth dates are adjusted to fit. This is the only exception we make to our 12 hour rule. Now, the fun can start – here we go!” and he snapped his fingers. Yells of shock rose from 98 mouths as everyone was switched into someone else’s body. Jonathan & Peter laughed. “12 hours in each body, then you move to another body. No-one does the same body twice. Everyone gets a turn in everyone else’s body before getting back to their own body. Also, a new twist... I’ve added a binding spell, so none of you are able to reveal your true identity until you’re back in your own body. Means that nobody’s gonna know who they’re playing with or who’s playing with them. Adds a bit of spice to the whole thing. Once you’re back in your own body, it’s all over. Have fun!”

In fairly short order, the party degenerated into a fuckfest and orgy. Peter thoughtfully supplied more of the restorative potion for everyone to use at need; then he & Jonathan sat back with cigars and brandy to watch the show, occasionally taking a guy down to the dungeon when desired. Over the next 49 days and nights, everyone shagged everyone else. With nobody knowing who was really in bed with them.

Once it was over, everyone staggered to their own beds, in their own bodies... and slept for a solid 48 hours. Coming down for brunch, all the first time visitors much less uptight than earlier, they made a happy group in the breakfast room. Jonathan & Peter grinned in satisfaction.

Over coffee, the subject of the earthquake came up. Peter spoke “I looked forward in time – the repair, rebuild and restoration takes 5 years to complete. We can navigate forward in time and use reality rewrite spells to plug you all in to that post recovery timeframe whenever you like. But there’s no need to rush if you don’t want to. You know the way time is, here.” Alan grinned “Aye. Leads me on to something else we were talking about before you both came downstairs...” Peter’s eyebrows rose. “And what might that be?”

Jack answered the question. “We all want to be turned into piskies for 12 hours! We LOVED seeing your piskey selves and want a go at being that way too! The potential for fun and mischief in that form is AMAZING!” Peter’s eyebrows rose. Beside him, Jonathan went very quiet. Steve asked “Is that request problematic, guys?” Jonathan nodded. “Yes, it is. And the problem is completely outside our control. It’s like this... piskey transformations attract the notice of the Sidhe. And if they like what has been done, they can make it permanent. There’s a very real, significant risk of you being turned into piskies forever. And neither of us will be able to do anything about it – we can neither prevent nor undo such a change. If it happens, you’re stuck with it. Forever.” The room fell silent. Carefully, Angus spoke. “Then we’d better know what being a piskey entails, first. It’s stupid to jump into something like that blindly.” Jonathan & Peter both agreed, and a long discussion ensued.

At the end of the conversation, Alan summed it up. “So... we lose our humanity, but not our identity; we become naughty immortal fairies capable of magical malarkey; we’ll never be the same again... but we retain our selves, and can shapeshift into human form to interact with our friends and family at need. I don’t know how the rest of you feel about it – but it’s good enough for me. I’d be OK with that, because I’ll still be Alan. I’ll still be me – just Alan the piskey rather than Alan the human.” A chorus of cautious, thoughtful agreement rose from everyone.

Jonathan spoke. “OK. Since you’re all good with taking the chance, we’ll do it. Go put your bike gear on, then come back here. Full kit – skins, boots, gauntlets; lids strapped on your belts.” Less than half an hour later, all 98 guys returned to the drawing room, fully kitted out, with helmets strapped to their belts. Jonathan opened a case, revealing 98 vials of shimmering eldritch green liquid, and handed one to each guy. “Drink up!” All 98 bikers tossed their vial’s contents down their throats, and put the vials aside.

“UUURRRGGGHHH...” groans echoed from every mouth as the green faery magic infused their bodies. Then, Jack yelled “WHEE!” as he started to shrink. Further yells followed as everyone else started downsizing too. Peter & Jonathan laughed as everyone changed. A few minutes later, 98 leatherclad piskey bikers were standing on the floor, each 1” tall and as insubstantial as thin air, where the same number of full size human bikers had been standing a few minutes before.

Jack stood there, his head and shoulders poking out of the deep pile of the rug on the floor, in amazement. “This is... stunning. All of a sudden, the world seems an awful lot bigger.” Jonathan & Peter grinned. “Guys – ‘port to the table. You’ll get a better perspective from there.” Steve did so. “I see what you mean. Get up here, brothers!” Everyone followed suit. “This is cool!” Angus remarked. “Got quite a few advantages over being human, frankly.”

A new voice, unfamiliar to everyone except Jonathan, spoke. “Now I’m very happy to hear that, lads – because you’re gonna be brothers long after that potion runs out!” With a laugh, Jonathan’s piskey brother appeared before them all. With a wave of his hands, he bathed all 98 transformed guys in green faery magic... everyone felt a profound inner change as their inner nature, worldview – and even their souls – were modified, permanently changing them into piskies, eliminating their humanity to make their shapeshifts permanent. Each felt two locks click shut inside themselves. The piskey spoke again. “The first lock is on your inner nature, and it’s permanent. No matter what outer form you take, you’re piskies on the inside, where it matters, and you’ll never be anything else. The second lock prevents you shapeshifting, and it’s temporary. It’ll release after being a piskey has become totally natural to you. Enjoy your new lives, brothers!” With a cheeky laugh, he vanished. Leaving 98 new piskies standing on the table, in shock.

Jonathan & Peter flipped into their piskey forms and joined the others on the table. Quietly, Jonathan spoke. “That is what I feared might happen. Is everyone OK?” Affirmation was unanimous. Jack spoke. “He’s a cheeky little fucker, isn’t he?!” Jonathan laughed. “Indeed he is – he was just as cheeky the day he turned me into a piskey!” Eyes widened. “So this is it, then? We’re like this forever?” Dan asked. “Yeah – you are. Welcome to the brotherhood.” Jonathan answered. “We’re immortal, too?” Angus asked. Jonathan nodded. “Yes – this is it. For eternity.” Thoughtful silence crept across the table. Alan spoke up “Well, we knew the risk. So be it.”

Rick grumbled “Only thing is, I was looking forward to a ride round the grounds here. But no way can I handle my bike when I’m like this!” Peter snorted “Shrink and dematerialise your bike to fit you, man!” Rick stared at him “But my shifting powers are locked down!” Jonathan shook his head. “Only for changing your OWN form, Rick. You can change other things easily. Right now.” Rick’s jaw dropped – as did others. Peter laughed. “Tell you what – let’s ‘port out to the courtyard and do just that. Then we can all ride the grounds!” With cheerful laughter, all 100 piskies did so. A few minutes later, a miniature bike race was going on, under the rosebushes, hedgerows and daffodils. Interspersed with shouts and laughter.

Parking their bikes under a box hedge, they all climbed off their machines and ‘ported to the balcony. Sitting there with cigars and brandy, conversation was lively. “Some sweet curves under those rosebushes. Better than the country roads back home!” Dan chuckled. Steve agreed. “Yeah – and did you see the spiders under the daffodils? Frigging things look SO fucking weird up close!” Jack shuddered. “They gave me a fit of the heebie-jeebies! I wasn’t a fan of arachnids in the first place – having spiders bigger than me is SCARY!” Jonathan laughed. “Don’t get too worked up – they can’t touch you. They’d walk right through you and wouldn’t do you any harm whatsoever!”

Alan was curious. “About that – how come we were able to ride our bikes after dematerialising them? And why did the dematerialisation spell feel like it was twisting the guts of every single component of bike, oil and fuel when I used it?” Peter grinned. “It’s like this...” and everyone listened closely as he explained the atomic inversion that made dematerialisation possible. Silence fell as everyone digested the information.

Stuart spoke, thoughtfully. “We’ve all got a lot to learn – about our new forms, our new lives... and about our magic.” Jonathan agreed. “Yes – and learning to use your magic is the best way to begin. It’s vital to our very being. It’s the core of everything we are. Learning about it, and learning to use it, will help you adjust to your new forms all the more quickly.”

Speaking in the back of Peter’s head, Jonathan murmured “I think the best thing for us to do now, brother, is teach. Shall we get on with it?” Peter agreed. “Yeah – I see that. Let’s do it.”

Jonathan continued. “You’ve managed quite a bit by instinct so far. That’s to be expected, as piskey magic has a strong intuitive element to it. However, instinct can only take you so far. We’re more than happy to teach – and the more you learn and work at it, the sooner you’ll be unlocked.”

With a concerned look, Russell asked “That isn’t going to burn you out, is it? There are 98 of us and only 2 of you!” Jonathan nodded. “It is a risk, yes. What we’ll have to do is run short, practical exercise classes – and set a lot of homework. You’ll get the basics, hands on, face to face with us, via direct magical teaching methods that are far more efficient and effective than mundane ones – after that, your homework will be practicing and reading up on the theory behind what you’ve been doing, with us available to provide assistance whenever you start having problems. Also, over time, the more advanced students among you will be able to help the others. Spreading the load like this is the only way we can pull it off, given our current numbers.”

After a slightly slow start, with both teachers and pupils feeling their way into their new roles, everyone settled down. Over time, the classes proved successful and all became better skilled in the use of their faery gifts, reaching very high levels of skill and ability. As time passed, each new piskey became used to their new form, and each shapeshifting lock opened.

Dan remarked. “Hmph. Typical. I’m ABLE to return to my human form now – after reaching the point where I don’t WANT to!!!” Jonathan laughed. “Yeah – that’s how we piskies operate. Always a joke & a sting in the tail!” Dan’s eyebrows rose “So THAT’S why my sense of humour’s gone so sardonic! Being turned into a piskey even gave me the piskey sense of humour!” Peter chuckled. “We wouldn’t be piskies without it, brother. It’s as vital to our being as our magic!” Dan sat down in quiet amazement, looking at himself. Taking stock. Accepting the new person he’d become. Having an epiphany that, over time, each of his brothers would – and did – share.

Some time later, training & education complete and all unlocked & adjusted, they gathered on the balcony, sitting on the railing, looking out over the gardens. Jack asked Peter “Can we swim the timestream forwards and get to the point where recovery and rebuilding are complete? I wouldn’t mind seeing how things look.” The others agreed.

Jonathan & Peter brought the ark forward to the right time, secured it and performed a reality rewrite. Jonathan spoke. “Now, brothers... we’ve rewritten reality, so everyone remembers us all relocating to Steve and Jack’s place for the duration of the recovery and nobody will think twice about us. Now, let’s bring our bikes back to the courtyard, solidify and upsize them, flip our bodies back to human form and cross the rainbow to Steve and Jack’s. From now on, you lift yourselves. You don’t need our help any longer.”

With eager grins, they all did so. 30 minutes later, they swung back in to Steve and Jack’s place in the Columbia Mountains. Looking around, Angus remarked “This could be a very handy clubhouse for us, Steve – off the beaten track, quiet, but with easy access. Feel like opening it up?” Steve grinned. “Why not? The mansion is our real home now, so this can be put to other uses.”

Angus agreed. “It’ll be a good place to bring new prospects in. From now on, becoming a piskey has to be a mandatory part of club membership, as we’re all piskies. We’ll need somewhere to introduce the new guys, gradually and carefully. This could fit the bill very well.” Steve and Jack grinned, then deployed their gifts and changed the house into a clubhouse and social space, with the barn becoming a bike shed. To the approval of all their brothers.

After an evening and night relaxing, they all climbed on to their machines at dawn and headed west to see how everything they’d known looked now. Streaks of green fire, they arced over the sky at dawn... crossing distances in minutes that would once have required hours on the ground. Spreading out, they parted company and headed off to see what was left of their homes.

Jonathan & Peter found San Francisco reassuringly familiar, with only small changes. They were glad to see that the LGBT community had recovered and rebuilt its own safe spaces – and were especially relieved to discover Timothy’s gym was back up and running... even thriving, with its proprietor delighted to see them amidst a huge boom in business.

The fact that so many addicts had perished in the quake had been a salutary lesson... far more people had started choosing workouts, protein shakes and ‘roids in preference to pills, booze and white powder. The switch had actually been significant enough to force several local gangs to change their trafficking practices, replacing heroin, cocaine & ecstasy with illegal ‘roids and supplements. A few had even opened their own gyms. And existing gyms had acquired significant waiting lists for membership.

Both Alan & Angus found Los Angeles a hell of a shock. Rebuilt, but unrecognisable. The eastern half of the city was totally new, built further inland on virgin ground. The old western half of the city was on the seabed, lost to the waves. The old eastern half of the city had become the new western half, running out to a shoreline the city had never had before. All the land from the city to the old shoreline had sunk beneath the waves. Alan was stunned. “I hardly recognise the place! The city I knew is gone...” Nor was he the only one. Angus quietly remarked “This doesn’t feel like my home any more. Everything I knew is either destroyed or profoundly changed.”

Further shocks awaited Russell, Bill, Dan & Diego – who found their homes in Palmdale, San Bernardino and Desert Hot Springs totally gone. Along with the entire towns and cities of which they’d been part. The great jagged gash of the San Andreas Inlet ripped right through where they’d all been, and all traces of them were submerged beneath the waves. Aghast, Russell spoke. “Bloody good job we decided to do that run when we did. I’d be dead if we hadn’t.” Bill's, Dan's and Diego’s agreement was equally shocked.

Things were no better to the north. Stuart & Anthony found Bodega Bay – and their old home there – totally obliterated. A huge cliff rose where the beach had been, cutting off access to the ocean. The town had collapsed into piles of rubble – many of which had caught fire – and had been abandoned.

Deeply shaken, they all returned to the clubhouse. Sitting there in the evening twilight, everybody was badly rattled by what they had seen. Angus spoke up. “Our roots, our homes and our lives here are gone. What do we do now?” Jonathan answered “We make the mansion our home base and settle in there. We use this place as our clubhouse and our base in this world, to run the club and serve as a legal address for licenses, official documents etc., as well as a spot to host runs and bring in new members. We’re brothers. We live and function as a logical family. That’s the foundation on which we rebuild our lives.” Angus agreed. “Yeah – makes sense. Nothing else we can do, anyway. Let’s get back over the rainbow – I doubt I’m the only one ready for dinner.” With quiet agreement, they mounted their machines and headed out, over the rainbow bridge and home.

After eating, they all reverted to piskey form and sat on the balcony railing, smoking, drinking and talking. “So – our new life begins.” Angus mused. “What mischief shall we get up to next?” Jonathan laughed. “No real limits, brothers – not with the powers we all wield! It’s advisable to reserve the really nasty tricks for those who deserve them – but there’s no reason not to indulge in harmless mischief with others!” Dan’s eyes rose “So just what would you consider necessary for someone to deserve such shit?” Peter smirked. “Here’s a good example...” and he told them all the story of the origins of the housekeeping server and its drones. Eyes sparkling with sardonic delight, Bill laughed. “Now THAT is a wonderful way to sort out a bunch of queerbashers! And having them spending eternity in mindless service to the kind of guys they despised is poetic justice. Nicely done, brothers!”

Angus grinned. “How about we get ourselves into San Francisco’s next Pride parade, as a gay bikers’ club? Then sprinkle the afterparty with magical malarkey and mischief?” Laughter rippled across the group. “Now THAT sounds like a plan.” Dan remarked. “Having a nice cute twink to ride & ravage could be fun – especially if I use my cum to stuff him with a slow change spell that’ll turn him into the very kind of guy he’s into most.” Jonathan smirked. “And add a reality rewrite spell to make sure nobody else notices his changes. That always freaks a guy out, big time!” Dan, Bill, Rick, Steve and Jack all burst out laughing.

Russell’s grin was evil. “I know just who I want to do that to as well!” Angus laughed “Micky doesn’t know what he’s in for!” Russell nodded. “Spot on. I’m still cogitating...” Noticing Peter’s look of query, Russell explained “He’s my ex – a twinky little drama queen with a thing for big, hairy, musclebound leather daddies. High time he actually became one!”

Jonathan smirked. “Nice idea, brother – but do some planning & testing in the holotank first. Tailor the spell to do exactly what you want it to do – it’s more fun that way.” Russell nodded. “Sure. I do need to do some prep work, yes. Is anybody using the tank tomorrow?” A chorus of negative answers reassured him. “Then I‘ll make use of the evening to get a set of reference images together, and start the tank work tomorrow.”

The following morning, Russell tinkered with the images, ideas, and knowledge of Micky’s preferences to craft the twink’s ideal leather daddy in the holotank. He crafted the spell, made it slow acting, included personality changes and a reality rewrite, then tucked it away for future use.

Time passed, and each of the others in turn made use of the holotank to craft their own workings and spells for their own targets. Finally, Jonathan asked “Is everybody ready? All plans laid and spells prepared?” Receiving affirmation from everyone, he grinned. “OK, Angus – over to you. What point in time do we need to jump to in order for you to contact the Pride committee and book the club’s place in the parade?” Angus was thoughtful. “Hmmmm...”

Under Angus’ direction, Jonathan & Peter brought the ark to the right point in time & Angus made the booking. Next, they detached the ark and swam the timestream again, bringing the ark to a point 1 month before Pride, so they could grab a copy of the events listing.

Browsing the lists, Russell mused. “Hmmmm... eeny meeny miney mo...” then laughed. “I’m being a fool!” Diego looked at him “Huh?” Russell grinned. “We can read minds – had you forgotten? Let’s dig into our targets’ minds, find out where THEY intend to go, and lay our plans accordingly.”

Angus was pensive “What if they split up?” Peter answered “Then we split up and keep following our individual targets. We’re all telepathic; we can all teleport to each other; physical separation is irrelevant for us.”

Angus nodded. “Yeah – I get it – just old habits die hard.” Peter grinned. “Don’t I know it! My tendency to flip into AAVE is still on automatic – there are days when every syllable is a conscious effort.”

Dan agreed. “Yeah – even without changes as drastic as ours, I learnt that many moons ago. It’s as much a part of life as change... and an inevitable consequence of such change. For every action, an equal and opposite reaction. That applies to human nature as much as it does physical nature. This is just our egoic resistance to change. Nothing more. As long as we keep on plugging at it, it’ll diminish over time. Just keep on going.”

Jonathan chuckled. “That’s enough cogitation and mind food for now. It’s high time we changed the subject and got our feet back on the ground. Let’s get physical and go have some fun!” Securing the ark to the start of San Francisco Pride, everyone did some extensive mindreading. Plans were laid. Jonathan & Peter were delighted to find their target heading for one of their favourite leather bars, and made plans to follow, with dirty glee. Russell, Angus, Alan and Diego found their targets heading for various bars and nightclubs and happily laid plans to track them. Stuart & Anthony found the couple who were their targets heading for a quiet, comfortable restaurant very much to their own liking, and cheerfully rewrote reality to book an adjacent table for themselves.

The following morning, everyone flipped their bodies into human form, bedecked their bikes with Leather Pride flags and rode over the rainbow, bound for the parade. Wind in their faces, they turned plenty of heads – and raised other heads – at the sight of 100 sexy bikers in tight black leather roaring in on their machines. As performers, groups, organisations and other participants assembled, and the crowds built along the route, excitement grew.

As the parade rolled out, they took their place in it and cruised easily through the city. During the parade, they all found and tagged their targets among the crowds. After the parade was over, the fun began. Slowly and carefully, each of them parted company and began stalking their chosen men.

Russell, Angus, Alan and Diego all split up on their separate chases.

Russell grinned as he stepped on to the dancefloor and started a sexy leather daddy dance, heading directly for Mick. Who soon found himself unable to take his eyes off the gorgeous hunk in black leather before him. With a wicked grin, Russell cast a spell of seduction upon him – then smirked quietly as his ex fell for him like a ton of bricks, not knowing who the hunk towering over him had been.

Later that night, he went home with Micky, who was already calling him “Daddy” long before they got in the door. Laying his boy flat on his back in his own bed, Russell proceeded to fuck his brains out. Finally releasing the leather daddy transformation spell into him as he came. After that, a butt plug was inserted and inflated to prevent leakages, and a sleep spell applied to keep him quiet while the transformation spell took root.

The following morning, Russell checked the sleeping twink, ensured he was fine and that both cum and spell had taken root, then deflated and removed the butt plug, cleaned it, and packed it away with the rest of his stuff. After coffee & buttered croissants, he pulled his leathers on, collected his stuff and ‘ported down to the garage. As he kicked his bike into life, he reached up into Micky’s apartment and lifted the sleep spell from him, roaring out of the garage as the twink he’d fucked into a slow 7 day daddification transformation woke up, alone, multiple floors above. Soon afterwards, Russell headed home over the rainbow.

Everyone else also had success that night. Angus took Ian, the musclebound jock & aspiring bodybuilder who’d bullied him at school, to bed and fucked his manhood out of him. As the transformation spell took hold, he’d roll back into a lithe, skinny college swimming champion.

Alan had found his ex Colin’s cousin and partner in crime Marcus, and fucked his dominance out of him. Over the next week, he’d turn back into a submissive young twink.

Diego found Wilhelm, the neo-nazi who’d queerbashed him, multiple times, in childhood... and fucked his straight whiteness out of him. Over the next week, he’d turn into a young gay Spanish man.

With a few exceptions, all the guys had likewise picked past tormentors and successfully exacted revenge. Among the exceptions were Stuart & Anthony, and Peter & Jonathan – each pair had picked a shared target, purely for pleasure.

Stuart & Anthony struck up an easy conversation with Evan & Thomas in the restaurant, leading to a very energetic foursome later that night. After fond farewells the next morning, they parted company... Stuart & Anthony keeping the knowledge of Evan’s & Thomas’s incipient transformations into a pair of spit-roasting dom biker daddies to themselves.

Waking up in Jason’s bed, Jonathan murmured “Woof, Gorgeous” in Peter’s ear. Receiving a low “Grrrr...” in reply. Downstairs, said Jason was restrained, gagged, muzzled, plugged and locked into chastity in his own basement cage. Yesterday he’d been a white dom daddy. Last night he’d been a white bitch for two black Masters. Over the next week he’d turn into a Black Master himself.

Targets all caught, enspelled and released, each of the 100 piskies regrouped back at the mansion. The place was abuzz with energy and amusement. Everybody had a viewing spell on the go in their rooms, watching their targets transform, helplessly, into the people they’d decided to turn them into. Jonathan and Peter joined the throng, set up their own viewing spell and settled in for the show.

Russell grinned as he watched Micky.

Coming in from work, having a shower and drying off, Micky noticed a five o’clock shadow on his face – with surprise. “Huh? I’ve never had that before!” Making a mental note to himself to get a razor tomorrow, he wandered off to the kitchen. The next morning, getting out of bed was harder. His body heavier. Looking in the mirror...

“WHAT. THE. FUCK???!!!”

In the glass, he saw his body had started beefing up. His face was beginning to square off. And to cap it off, a light dusting of body hair had begun to appear.

Staring at his reflection, Mick was shocked. “Am I having a growth spurt or something?! This is WEIRD!” On his bed, Russell burst out laughing. “If he only knew the truth of it!” Chuckling, he watched on.

As the days passed, Mick kept changing. The next morning, he looked and felt older. His body beefing up further, maturing. And the reflection matched, showing him a man who looked like he was in his mid thirties. The morning after, he found himself taller as well as beefier. Cock and balls longer, thicker & larger. The changes ran on over the week.

The next morning, he woke up to find his body had rolled forwards into his early forties. Rugged and hairy. The day after, his face had vanished behind a beard and moustache.

The final morning, he woke up a different person. His mind transformed, as much the 43 year old hairy, kinky, leatherclad muscle daddy on the inside as his body was on the outside. The reality rewrite having changed his life, his records, his documents, his identity and every memory of him and in him, while he slept.

Standing in front of the mirror, he realised that Micky the twink was gone forever. Musclebound leather daddy Michael stood in his place, in full BLUF gear. Looking at his reflection, Michael chuckled. “Whoever did this to me – thanks.” With a grin, he turned away from the mirror and got ready for his day. Finding his Grindr full of twinks wanting Daddy to tie them up, flog and fuck them. Life was good.

In the mansion, Russell smirked in pleasure as he lifted his viewing spell.

Diego had also had an enjoyable week, absolutely gloating as he watched Wilhelm.

Getting up the morning after their shag, Wilhelm headed for work. Getting home that night, he looked in the mirror – and was shocked to see his swastika tattoos fading and his muscles shrinking. “MEIN GOTT IN HIMMELL!!!” he panicked, frantically rubbing his skin.

The next morning, his skin had darkened to a dark golden hue, his blue eyes had turned deep brown... and his blond hair began falling out, with dark black hair growing in to replace it.

The following morning, he woke up – to see a fine boned Latino twink looking back at him in the mirror. No physical trace of his German Caucasian self remained.

Next to go was his language. Waking up the next morning, he was horrified to find his mother tongue had vanished.

“¡DIOS MÍO! ¡YA NO PUEDO HABLAR INGLÉS! ¡YA NO PUEDO HABLAR ALEMÁN! ¡¡¡YA NO PARECE YO MISMO!!! QUE MIERDA ME PASA???!!!”

Diego smirked, knowing that wouldn’t change. Part of the transformation spell prevented fluency in anything except Spanish. Watching, he smirked and gloated as the final rewrite turned Wilhelm into Carlos, a gay Spanish twink with a Grindr full of daddies wanting his ass... and the last part of the neo-nazi queerbasher dissolved into nothingness with a shriek of helpless fury.

“GOTCHA, you bastard!” Diego yelled, punching the air in victory, grinning from ear to ear. Unashamed, he smirked as he lifted his viewing spell. Sometimes, revenge truly is better served cold.

Angus had a marvellous week, watching Ian as the musclebound jock had his bodybuilding dreams dissolved before his eyes.

Waking up in the morning, Ian stretched and flexed in bed – then sat up in shock, feeling lighter. The mirror showed him a fit, defined but less bulky version of himself. “WHAT THE FUCK?! Where’d my muscles go?!” he stared at himself, jaw dropping.

The next day, he woke up to find the room a lot bigger. Measuring his height, he discovered he’d shrunk from 6’4” to 5’2” overnight. And the mirror showed a much younger guy than he’d been the previous evening... looking like he was back in his early twenties instead of his mid thirties.

The day after, his body had condensed to a tight, young appearance, with a swimmer’s butt... and his gym kit had turned into swim kit. Speedo, cap and goggles replaced shorts, tank top and trainers. Freaking out, he curled up in bed, not wanting to look at himself.

The final morning, he awoke as an entirely new person. A competitive swimmer. College champion. His head full of swimming and diving techniques, his body’s muscle memory attuned to speed in the water, and his old bodybuilding jock self consigned to memory.

A lithe, slim college swimming champion stood where a prospective Mr. Universe had once been. As Ian headed out for practice, Angus chuckled, knowing that the transformation spell prevented future muscle gains and would keep Ian slim and skinny for the rest of his life. So much for his bodybuilding dreams.

Angus also smirked as he lifted his viewing spell – then chuckled as Alan walked in, satisfied and happy. “That bastard Marcus – Colin’s sidekick – is now a cute little femboy twink with a bubble butt and a tiny cock, spreading his legs for every dom he can find on Grindr.” Angus grinned. “And Ian’s bodybuilder ambitions are gone. He’s a college swimming champion now, instead. With that lithe, fit body and swimmer’s butt, he’ll be VERY popular in the locker room!” Both guys roared in laughter.

Stuart & Anthony watched in pleasure as Evan and Thomas changed.

The first morning, Thomas woke Evan. “Are you doing the gym? You look like it!” Evan’s eyes rose. “I could ask you the same question! And when did you get tattoos?!” Thomas looked confused. “I haven’t got t- WHAT. THE. FUCK???!!!” Both guys stared at the mirror. And at each other. Evan asked “What is HAPPENING to us?!” Thomas looked confused. “I don’t know – but I’m very glad we’re on holiday this week. This could get difficult if we had to go into the office.”

The next morning... “Hey!” Evan shook Thomas awake. “You’re OLDER!!!” Thomas looked at him. “Speak for yourself!” Evan’s jaw dropped. The mirror showed them two older guys, in their early forties. Bodies bulked out, tougher, mature. Faces hard and strong.

It left both guys terrified. Shaking, Evan stammered “W-What is going on? Where did our youth go?!” Thomas trembled. “I have no idea. This isn’t funny.”

Next morning, the tattoos had spread over both their bodies. Each had grown a pelt of black body hair. Matched by the long thick black hair covering their heads, and the thick beards and moustaches covering their faces. Looking out of the window, Evan stepped back with a gasp. “Thomas – our limo has vanished. THERE ARE TWO HARLEY-DAVIDSON MOTORCYCLES STANDING IN ITS PLACE!!!”

Shakily, Thomas added “And our closets are full of biker kit – leathers, boots, gauntlets, helmets. Evan, hon – I think we’re turning into a couple of biker daddies. I can already hear your voice deepening and roughening up.” Evan answered “Yours too.” They both swallowed. Evan asked “What are we going to do?” Thomas was thoughtful. “We’re gonna go with the flow and let it happen. We can’t stop it – so why try and fight it?” Both fell quiet as the reality sank in. Evan asked “You remember Stuart & Anthony? Did they trigger this? Have those two sexy bikers turned US into bikers?!” Thomas looked thoughtful. “Our changing like this right after a biker couple seduce & shag us IS a bit too coincidental... no proof, but certainly food for thought. If we run into them again, we can ask about it.”

The following morning, they woke up transformed – this time on the inside. Harder. Coarser. More assertive and dominant. The two architects & art lovers were gone, replaced by two rough biker daddies who liked nothing better than spit-roasting a twink between them.

Thomas rumbled “Get your ass in gear, man. Too good a day to be stuck in here. We’re riding.” Evan sat up. “Yeah – looks a good day for it. I’ll get us coffee and we’ll hit the road.” Shortly afterwards, they got into their gear, kicked their bikes into life and headed out. Hair blowing behind them in the wind of their own passage.

As Stuart closed down the viewing spell, Anthony grinned. “I wouldn’t say no to being spit-roasted by those two, you know?” Stuart laughed. “You never know – I might just hire you out to them one night!” Anthony gave him a wicked look. “Be careful – you’re giving me dirty thoughts...” Stuart smirked. “That’s the whole idea. You know, they might actually be good prospects for the club.” Anthony laughed “You really DO know how to drive me round the twist, don’t you?!” Stuart just smirked. “I’ll mention it to Angus – see what he thinks of the idea!”

Jonathan & Peter thoroughly enjoyed their week’s viewing.

The morning after they’d left, Jason woke up – and stared in shock at his cock and balls. Longer, thicker and larger than before – and pitch black. “Huh? I know I’ve dreamt of being black – but a white guy with a black cock is weird. Hope it’s nothing bad...” resolving to keep an eye on it, he got dressed and headed for work.

The next morning, the blackness had spread, making him deep black from his navel to his thighs. And his brown body hair had fallen out, with tight black curls replacing it, wherever his skin had darkened.

“WHOA!” Jason was shocked. “I know Jonathan & Peter said they had a gift for me – did they do this?! ARE THEY GIVING ME MY FANTASY AND TURNING ME INTO A BLACK MAN???!!!” He surprised his watchers, then, by bursting into laughter. “Well, guys – if this is your promised gift, thank you! Now, I’m gonna sit back and enjoy my transformation.”

And that was exactly what he did.

The next morning, he was black from pecs to knees.

The morning after, only his head, hands, face and feet were still white.

The next morning, his face had reshaped – nose flatter & wider, lips thicker – his body had muscled up like it was going out of fashion, his white skin was totally gone and his African American accent had become noticeable.

The final night, his transformation turned inwards and he woke up the following morning as a dominant, assertive, kinky, controlling Black Master. His appearance changed, his mind, life, memories and identity rewritten... the white dom daddy replaced with the musclebound Black Master he’d dreamed of being. Inside and out. For life.

Looking at his reflection, Master Jason murmured “PHWOAR... thanks, brothers!” And sat back, chilled and happy. His head filled with dirty plans for the weekend.

Jonathan chuckled as he closed down his viewing spell. “We’ll have to hook up with him again someday. That was fun!” Peter agreed. “Being a Black Master was a dream of his – since we fulfilled it, he’ll be grateful to us and open to more fun.” Both guys laughed, dirtily.

Later, all back in piskey form and relaxing on the balcony railing, Jonathan remarked “Well, our Brotherhood has had its first mass outing. Looks like everyone enjoyed themselves!” Diego agreed. “Absolutely. Vengeance feels deeply satisfying, you know? Like an old anger, a buried pain, a hidden shame has been healed and let go.” Angus laughed. “SO true!” Peter nodded and spoke. “The emotional release it’s given everyone is actually healing our brothers... good to see.” Jonathan agreed. “Now they’re through the pain, the real fun can start.”

Stuart & Anthony grinned. “Speaking of which...” they proceeded to tell the others about Evan and Thomas. Angus, Jonathan and Peter laughed – then took a very interested look at the two with a viewing spell. Peter was complimentary. “Good work, brothers.” Angus agreed. “Definitely good prospect material. We’ll have to get you guys to bring them in.” Stuart & Anthony smirked in gleeful anticipation.

Jonathan & Peter smirked as they opened a new viewing spell to show Master Jason to the others. Angus, especially, was impressed. “WOW – when you guys make someone over, you do a fucking good job of it!” Jonathan laughed. “Bloody good fun too! You know, we could do with a few more of us in the club...?” He cocked his eyebrow at Angus, who laughed. “Why not? If you want to bring him in, feel free.”

Angus’ face turned serious. “I’m pretty easy on admitting new members – the only rules are that they must be a gay or bi biker before joining us, and will be permanently turned into a piskey upon initiation. So if you want him in, turn him into a biker first. Got it?” Jonathan grinned “Sure – it’ll be a pleasure.”

Peter grinned. “Maybe bring in Timothy & Micky as well?” Jonathan agreed. Angus shrugged. “I’ve given you the rules. Stick to them and we’ll give your prospects a fair hearing.”

I’ve been kind of out of control in my life lately. People keep telling me where to go and what to do, it’s infuriating! If only I was bigger, stronger… no one would dare tell me how to go about my life again.

Bigger and stronger is it?

A knock on your door signals the arrival of a parcel to your apartment. Opening the box you find a stick of deodorant inside. On the label it just says "Daddy's Home" and a small logo at the top which reads Rakurai Inc.

You pop the top open and give it a whiff, which immediately sends you reeling back. Its musky, salty, sour. Smells like a locker room.

When you go to grab your own deodorant you find that it is completely empty, and a quick smell of your pit shows you're in desperate need of some.

Reluctantly you lather yourself up with the stick and put it in your bag, before heading out to work.

Your job was the same as ever. People screaming at you what to do, not listening to a word you say.

About half way through the day you're fed up and scream back at your manager. Right after you're shocked. You would never talk back to a surperior.

You apologize profusely and say you're not feeling great and quickly go home.

On the way home you can't help but scratch all over your chest and arms. You find your shirt getting tighter as well, maybe it has shrunk in the wash?

When you finally get home you quickly undress and move to the bathroom. Looking at your reflection in the mirror your jaw drops. Massive mounds of muscle and hair stare back at your shocked face. At the same time a weird smell whafts up into your nose. You raise your arm to sniff your pit and your head blanks, the musk so overpowering its getting hard to think.

Think? You didn't think though. Well, not with your head at least. You think with your enormous cock and balls, which were almost bursting out of your underwear.

You stroke your endowment through your shorts and smirk at the mirror. You grab your phone, download grindr, snap a quick picture and invite the first greedy twink you can find over.

Right after you send a sleuth of profanities to your boss and say you're resigning.

After all, a Big Daddy like you doesn't listen to anyone but himself.

The slender crescent of the new moon shone, faintly, through the apartment windows... and touched the sculpted, gorgeous black man lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling lightly in the rhythm of sleep.

Peter was out for the count – helped by a deep sleep spell laid on him by his friend & fuck buddy Jonathan. This was the first and lesser of the two works of magic that said friend had planned for him tonight... both without his knowledge.

On Peter’s bedside table, a tiny figure stood. 1” tall, black, dressed in black leather and surrounded with an eldritch glow of green magic. Checking over his sleeping brother, Jonathan grinned and murmured. “Surprise me”, you said, brother... so be it!” With a wave of his hands, Jonathan cast a web of green faery magic over the sleeping man, watching as it wrapped his body, front and back, side to side, head to toe, in a seamless net of green fire; relaxing with a satisfied smirk as it sank into his body and faded from view.

“Hmmmm... only two weeks or so til the shit hits the fan!” Jonathan chuckled as he ‘ported home.

Time passed. Late the following week, Jonathan got a call from Peter. “Yo, brother. You wanna join me tonight? Could do with a drink or two, then maybe spit-roasts to follow?” Jonathan chuckled. “Nice idea. I’ll see you at the Black Room later – say about 20:00hrs or so?” Peter agreed, and hung up.

Grinning at the lunar calendar on his wall, Jonathan chuckled. “Time Zero should hit about an hour beforehand. Just fucking perfect.” Mark laughed. “Especially as I think he’s forgotten that he dared you to surprise him, Boss.” Jonathan laughed. “I KNOW he’s forgotten – I saw to that myself!!! The surprise adds SO much fun to the whole thing!”

That evening, Peter came home from work, showered, ate the dinner His boy Baz had made and slipped into his leather. He was standing in front of his full length mirror, checking everything was in place, when the full moon started to rise over the city.

“WHAT THE FUCK???!!!” Peter yelled in shock as the moon’s appearance triggered a spark of green light over his chest. The light expanded, wrapping his body in a net of green fire. “SHIT!!!” As the net tightened, Peter began to shrink. From 6 feet 8 inches, he went down to 6 feet... 5 feet... 4 feet... 3 feet... 2 feet... 1 foot, then down through the inches until at 1 inch tall, he became immaterial and acquired his own nimbus of green faery magic as he turned into a piskey and full knowledge of his magical abilities settled into his mind.

With a familiar laugh, Jonathan appeared behind him, also in BFM form. “How you doing there, brother?” Peter spun round “You cheeky fucker!” Jonathan smirked. “Hey, calm down. You’re the one who challenged me to surprise you. What else did you expect?!” Peter swore as the reminder broke Jonathan’s forgetfulness spell. “I’d forgotten I said that – guess I’d better be more careful with my words in future, huh?” Jonathan grinned. “Too late now!” Peter rolled his eyes with a sigh of resignation.

Jonathan continued “Now, there’s a few things you need to learn before we go any further. You can ‘port yourself and your boy into my limpet dimension now – you have the abilities & knowledge and I’ve set the portal to allow you access. Join me there, and we can take our time talking. OK?” Peter nodded. “Sure – I’ll get the boy to turn the electrics off here, then we’ll join you.”

Jonathan ‘ported himself home... and waited. Ten minutes later, Peter successfully ‘ported himself and Baz in, Peter sitting on Baz’s shoulder. Jonathan grinned. “Well done!” Peter laughed in a mix of joy and disbelief. “Easier than I expected it to be. I could get used to this, you know?”

Jonathan smirked. “I’m glad to hear that – because the moment you used your gifts to ‘port here, you sealed my work.” Peter stared at him. “And just what does that mean?!” Jonathan grinned “You made your were-piskey curse permanent!”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “My WHAT???!!!” Jonathan laughed. “You’ve heard the old werewolf stories, I guess?” Peter nodded. “Yeah – so this is something similar?” His brother grinned. “Yeah. But in your case, you turn into a piskey instead – and the change lasts from the first moonrise to the last moonset of each full moon instead of abating at each sunrise over the 3 days of the full moon. So you’ve got roughly 72 hours before you change back. Next full moon, same again. And so on. Also, your shapeshifting abilities are locked down by the curse, so you can’t get round it by changing back yourself.”

Peter stared at Jonathan, aghast. “I’m gonna have this happen EVERY full moon?! For the rest of my life?!” Jonathan shook his head. “No... only for 13 successive full moons.” Peter breathed a sigh of relief... which stopped as Jonathan added “After that, it becomes a permanent change – and the lock on your shapeshifting abilities will be released. You’ll become a Black Fairy Master; you’ll never be truly human again... though you’ll be able to take physical human form – or any other form – whenever you like, for as long as you like. Same as me.”

“So I’m losing my fucking HUMANITY now?! NO. FUCKING. WAY!!!” Peter yelled. “This isn’t funny, brother!” Jonathan shrugged. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll always be Peter – regardless of whether you’re Peter the Human or Peter the Black Fairy Master. You’ll always have your name. You’ll always be YOU. Only your form will differ. And that’s no big deal, as I’ve learned through my transformation journey.” Peter looked confused as Jonathan summoned Nicky to bring brandy and cigars, then shrank the chairs & table to fit them both. “Sit down, brother, have a glass and light up. We can talk it over and help you get your head around it all.”

A discussion took place, in miniature, on the floor as one black piskey helped the other understand & come to terms with his new reality. Finally, Peter stretched out, lying back in his chair as he made sense of it all and the fug in his head cleared. “Hmph. I guess I did this to myself, huh?” Jonathan laughed. “You did indeed, brother – but no worries. You’ll be my partner in mischief soon – and there’s a lot of fun to be had!” A wicked chuckle came from Peter’s lips. “I’ll look forward to it, brother. With pleasure!”

Jonathan grinned. “There’ll be no spit-roasts tonight – might be a thought for your bitch to give mine a hand round the place? An idle slave gets lazy, you know.” Peter agreed, and sent Baz to work helping Nicky.

As the two white slaves disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, their Masters sat back and talked. Peter spoke first. “I’d already booked the week off work, so this first change isn’t going to cause me problems there – but the ones after that are gonna be trouble.”

Jonathan looked thoughtful. “Then maybe it’s time to relocate here? You ditch your job; I sell the shop; I expand my limpet dimension and this house; I tie time in here to time out there so you’ll get your 13 full moons done in here; you ditch your apartment and move in here. Then once your permanent change hits, I untie the time sync and we can give our lives over to fun, frolics, fornication and other mischief.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Now THAT I didn’t expect! But it does solve every problem in front of me... OK, let’s do it.” They shook hands. “Thanks, brother. You know, I’m looking forward to NOT being a wage slave.” Peter remarked, beginning to look eagerly at Jonathan’s plans. His brother grinned. “As much as I’m looking forward to not having a business to run, I bet. Both have their downsides.”

Jonathan tied in the time sync. “OK. That’s us time-locked to out there. Settle in, and we can put our plans into effect after you change back.” Peter grinned. “OK.”

Three days later, as the full moon set for the last time, Peter became infused with green light, solidified, turned back into a human and grew back to his full height of 6’8”. After a few minutes of fruitless concentration, he asked Jonathan “What happened to my magic?”

Jonathan flipped his body into human form. “It’s faery magic, brother – and you’re human now. It’s exclusive to your faery form. You only have it while you’re a piskey or a Black Fairy Master.”

Peter nodded. “I see. Think I’m starting to get a handle on what you said earlier, about my name being what matters and my form being irrelevant, actually. I don’t feel any less like Me, in either form.” Jonathan grinned. “Spot on – that sense of Self is the heart of the matter. Keep that, don’t worry about your other attributes, and you’ll be fine.” Peter sighed and relaxed. “Now I feel easier about the whole thing.” Jonathan smiled, pleased his brother was finding his feet. “Let’s have dinner, then I’ll get you and your bitch home.”

After dinner, Jonathan opened the Door to Peter’s apartment and sent Peter and his boy home. Sitting back with cigar and brandy, he considered his plan to expand the limpet dimension... then decided to get bold. He’d done a fair bit of experimental multiverse work since acquiring the manual from Gil, and was ready for something bigger. Cogitating over alternatives, he roughed out an idea... then headed for bed to sleep on it.

The following morning, after breakfast, Jonathan went down to his lab and activated his holotank, copying models of his house and various stately homes & gardens into it. After some work combining various parts of different plans, he arrived at a design he was happy with.

Calling Nicky to the lab, Jonathan began by creating a dimensional ark. Analogous to Frey’s flying longship in Scandinavian mythology – just a lot larger – this allowed its inhabitants to hop around the multiverse and access other worlds & dimensions at will. Next, Jonathan created a large mansion, surrounded by walled gardens and parklands, upon the ark; moved themselves and all contents of the house into the mansion; switched the portal from the old house to the mansion; obliterated the old house and collapsed the limpet dimension.

“Right. That’s the first step complete.” Jonathan mused. “Next, time to sell the shop.”  Nicky looked a bit sad. Jonathan raised an eyebrow “You gonna miss being a bootboy?” Nicky nodded “Yes, Sir. I enjoyed the work and loved the shop.” Jonathan smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment, boy – shows just how good a job I made of changing you.” Nicky flushed, ducking his head in agreement.

Jonathan continued “Something to take your mind off losing the shop... I know you were an interior designer before I put my chain on you – so use that knowledge now, to design the furnishings for the rest of our new home. Keep it classy, dignified, practical, comfortable and convenient. Do up a plan, and once I’m happy we’ll implement it.” Nicky bent his head. “Yes, Sir.”

Next, Jonathan asked “Now, boy – can you think of anyone I can turn into a cobbler and hand the shop over to?” Nicky was thoughtful, knowing his Master’s sense of humour and justice... then a face came to mind.

“What about Bertram? The stuck up trust fund layabout from down the street? He’s never done a day’s work in his life – and he’s got a pair of shoes in for repair, so catching him should be easy.” Jonathan laughed and laughed at the idea. “My boy, I LIKE your way of thinking! So be it.”

Two days later, following a call from Nicky, Bertram appeared in the Grizzly Cobbler at lunchtime, paid for his shoes and tried them on. He finished tying the laces, then stood in front of the mirror. “Looks grand. Though I expect nothing else, here.” Then he gasped as a shimmer of green light rippled out of the shoes and over his body.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Bertram screamed as his shoes reshaped themselves into a pair of oversized work boots – and locked him in place, unable to move. Jonathan smirked as he appeared behind Bertram “This is your new life starting. A life of hard manual work, leather, boots and shoes. Time you started working the way a REAL man does.”

“First, we change what’s outside.” Bertram’s eyes widened as his jacket & tie disappeared, his trousers turned into a pair of denim jeans, and his dress shirt turned into a polo shirt bearing the logo of the Grizzly Cobbler – both oversized, like the boots. Next, his soft, pale & pampered body hardened up, packed on good solid muscles, then acquired the tanned, rough, weatherbeaten skin and calluses of the blue collar working man as he aged and matured, rolling forward from his late 20s to his early 40s, his body growing out, broadening and muscling up to fit his boots & clothing. His blond curls disappeared, replaced by a crew cut. His clean shaven face vanished under a large, aggressive dark beard and moustache. The aroma of his cologne was replaced by the musk and body odour of a working man, overlaid with the smells of leather, glue and polish.

“Second, we bring what’s inside into sync with what’s outside.” Bertram cried out as his inner world warped and mutated, turning Bertram the arrogant & lazy rich brat into Bert, Master Cobbler - highly skilled, full of working class pride and scornful of idle rich twerps like the one he’d been. His blue eyes darkened to a deep brown and hardened, as the last traces of Bertram vanished forever.

“Third, we take your old life. Including all your money. And we give you the shop – and make everyone forget you were ever anyone else and that we ever existed.” Jonathan cast a reality rewrite spell, switching Bertram’s trust funds and investments to himself, switching the Grizzly Cobbler to Bert’s ownership, and altering all memories, including Bert’s, and all physical and legal records to fit Bert’s identity, life and role... obliterating Bertram forever in the process.

“And that’s that. Enjoy your new life.” Jonathan and Nicky disappeared as Mark ‘ported them back to the mansion. With a blink, Bert went upstairs to his apartment over the shop for lunch. Bertram was forgotten. He was Bert now – master cobbler and owner of The Grizzly Cobbler. Nothing else.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Nicky asked. Jonathan nodded. “Granted, boy. What’s on your mind?” Nicky answered “I’ve got the decor & furnishings roughed out, Sir – will You take a look, please, and see what You think of it?” Jonathan grinned. “Sure – give me the details.”

Jonathan pulled up a high stool for His boy. “Best you sit on the furniture rather than the floor for this. Not easy talking over plans when the other guy’s sitting on the floor at My feet.” Nicky joined his Master at the table, and they worked through Nicky’s design notes and pictures. Jonathan made a few adjustments, but was mostly satisfied with His boy’s work. After finalising the details, Jonathan grinned. “Well Done, boy.” With a wave of his hand, Jonathan manifested the plans as reality. “And that’s it sorted.” The stool disappeared and Nicky returned to his place on the floor, earning a pat on the head for his efforts.

Jonathan called Peter. “Yo, brother. How’s your part of the relocation going?” Peter answered “All on schedule so far. Handed in my notice at work, arranged to quit the apartment at the end of the month. Nothing to stop me moving in whenever you’re ready.” Jonathan grinned. “I’m ready now – my part is all done. Let’s move your stuff now, then I can fix the Door to your lounge til you finish up at work.” Peter grinned. “Sure!”

Jonathan opened the Door to Peter’s apartment and locked it in place, then ‘ported Peter’s heavier stuff into the mansion as Baz carried the lighter stuff in by hand. Peter was impressed with the mansion. “Nice. But this feels different to before. Are we still in the same place?” Jonathan shook his head. “No. I collapsed the limpet dimension and destroyed my old house. We’re on a dimensional ark. It flies outside our dimension, and can pop in to any other dimension I want. It’s also big enough to hold the entire estate. We’ve got extensive gardens and parklands, enclosed by a high wall for safety. Anybody falling off the edge of the ark would dissolve into nothing and be unmade. We need to protect our guests.”

Peter’s eyes were wide. “Brother, each time I get used to one new thing, you change it! And THIS is something else.” Standing on the balcony, overlooking the gardens and grounds, he was gobsmacked. Jonathan grinned. “For now, most of the place is maintained in tip-top condition by magic. Over time, we’ll find, conscript and reprogramme enough white trash boys to build an adequate staff and turn it manual. Our two bitches are personal toys – not general servants.” Peter laughed. “Sounds fine to me!”

A few weeks passed, and both guys settled into their new home. Finally, Peter came home, his notice period finished, and handed his apartment keys over to his landlord. Leaving the time sync in place, Jonathan detached the Door from Peter’s apartment and ‘ported Peter back into the mansion. “And that’s that – our old lives are closed off. Now let’s get on with your adjustments.”

Two days later, Jonathan reminded Peter “Full moon rises in an hour. Best gear up and get ready.” Peter summoned Baz and headed to his dressing room, returning later in his full BLUF outfit. Sitting back in his armchair, Peter waited... and was not disappointed, as the full moon rose and the net of green fire turned him back into a piskey & Black Fairy Master. He ‘ported to the table. “Yo, brother. Got my magic back. Whee!” Jonathan laughed. “Yo, brother. You be excited by it?!” Peter grinned. “You bet I do! Join me?” Jonathan laughed. “Why not?” Flipping back to his true BFM form, he joined his brother on the table – and shrank & ‘ported chairs, coffee table, cigars and brandy to the table beside them.

Sitting back on the table, Peter asked a question. “Something puzzling me, brother – we’re immaterial, but we can still sit in these chairs, drink brandy and smoke cigars. How’s that possible, if they’re solid and we aren’t? I get us shrinking them to our size, but not the other bit.”

Jonathan looked thoughtful. “This might be a bit head stretching. We’re made immaterial by inverting the very atoms of our bodies so they’re 180 degrees out of phase with everything around us. That means our bodies can occupy the same space as a brick wall, and so on. The same thing is done automatically to our gear. The inversion makes it solid for us and immaterial for everyone else. I just did the same thing to our cigars and brandy. As for the chairs, we don’t sink through them because we choose not to. We could, if we want – but we’re subconsciously holding ourselves on their surface instead.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “A BIT head stretching?! Brother, you have a tendency to understate things!!!” Jonathan shrugged. “You’ll get used to it, in time. For now, just accept the concepts.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Like I’ve got a choice! And DON’T remind me that I asked for it!” Jonathan laughed and laughed. “So tell me, brother... is your magic enough compensation for your minisculism?” Peter blinked in surprise. “Hadn’t thought of it like that. Swings and roundabouts, huh?” Jonathan nodded. “Yeah. Gotta have a sweetener in the mix somewhere.” Peter laughed. “It could certainly be one – I’ll make the most of it!” The two tiny beings clinked their glasses and lit fresh cigars.

Time passed... and, one full moon at a time, Peter began adapting to his new BFM form. One night, not long after changing back to human form at the moment of moonset, he sat back thoughtfully and quietly. Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, brother?” Peter nodded. “Yeah... I’ve got a growing sense of my faery self as a separate identity. Still Me – but Faery Me feels different to Human Me.”

Jonathan smiled. “I get your drift. Understand this – your “faery self” and your “human self” are both personalities – and the personality is only a mask, created and worn by your inner spirit to interact with the outer world. You’re still Peter, regardless of which mask you’re wearing. It’s just that life as a Black Fairy Master is different to life as a Human – so you need a different mask for it. You’re developing your BFM mask, one full moon at a time. A perfectly natural thing to do. Pay attention to it, brother – because it will become your default “self” once your change is fixed. Learn to welcome it, and to love wearing it.”

Peter pursed his lips.  “Yeah – I get what you’re saying. I’ve been reading Alan Watts, and he says much the same thing about masks – albeit in different words. It’s a useful perspective.” Jonathan agreed. “Good choice. If you want further reading, try Thich Nhat Hanh, who’s also very good – and even dig into the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads. All are worth reading, and have a lot of good stuff to say on that subject and other related things. Their perspective on life is useful – even vital – for anybody doing transformation work.”

Finally, the last night of the thirteenth full moon arrived. Sitting on the table, watching the clock as the final moonset drew near, Peter was thoughtful. “I’m on the cusp of saying goodbye to my humanity forever – and the scariest thing is that I’m not bothered about it. Because I’ll still be myself. I’m still Peter.” Jonathan put a hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations,  brother. You’ve learned just how irrelevant your form and mask actually are. This is why I did your change this way – I figured it’d give you a chance to adjust.” Peter smiled. “It did. Worked perfectly. Even made me EAGER for it!” Jonathan chuckled. “Almost there...”

As they sat back with cigars and brandy, the full moon sank below the horizon... and a web of green faery magic extended over Peter’s body, then sank into it and coalesced into a point of green fire over his heart. With a burst of light, the magic reformed itself into the infinity symbol – something like the number 8 turned on its side – and sank into Peter’s body. Peter sighed in relief as his humanity departed, his shapeshifting abilities were unlocked and he turned into a Black Fairy Master forever. “And that’s that. Good.”

Jonathan smiled. “Welcome to your new life, brother.” Peter grinned. “Thanks, brother. For everything.” The two Black Fairy Masters toasted their future, sat back and relaxed. Content in their own selves... until they both started getting horny.

Peter rumbled. “Both our bitches are getting pampered cos we’ve been so focused on my transformation. Time to put that right.” Jonathan agreed. “Especially as we’ve got a bigger dungeon now. It needs to be put to good use. High time we both flip into human form, take our boys down there and stretch their tight white holes. HARD.” Peter’s smirk was all the answer required.

Peter & Jonathan flipped their bodies into human form, then summoned Baz & Nicky to the dungeon, where they stripped both boys and placed them side by side in the stocks. Jonathan spoke. “We’ll flip a coin for who we pound first. Heads my bitch, tails yours. OK?” Peter agreed... and tossed the coin. “Heads.” Jonathan grinned. “Which hole do you wanna stuff first?”

They started with Master Jonathan stuffing Nicky’s ass while Master Peter filled his throat... then both Masters swapped ends and repeated the process. After plugging and gagging Nicky, they switched over to Baz for the same treatment.

“You’ll note the extra cell.” Jonathan remarked to Peter, as they locked their boys in restraints, Carrara chastity belts and muzzles. “Yeah, I saw it.” Peter replied. “One each, huh?” Jonathan grinned. “ Yeah. Note the padded barrier enclosing each cell, and the new doors – padded, but solid metal. There’s a pump system in place to funnel air through both cells, with an emergency release that opens the cell door if the pumps fail and a safety catch that won’t let the doors lock unless the pump is on and working. They don’t need to see out of the cell – so why bother with a grille?” Peter’s grin was positively evil. They each locked their boy into one of the cells, turned off the lights, locked up the dungeon and went upstairs.

Over cigars and brandy, Jonathan turned to business. “Now, time we let our inner tricksters out to play. Let’s target next Pride – we can jump forward a few months no bother, and the potential for mischief among a host of giddy queens, twinks & sluts is worth salivating over!” Peter laughed. “Same wavelength, brother. Guess I’m as much a trickster as you are now.” Jonathan grinned. “You’d better be – that was the whole idea behind changing you. I wanted a partner in mischief! Let’s jump to a month before Pride – then we should be able to get a copy of the events listing. We can pick out spots to target from that.”

“Hmmmm.” Looking through the listings, they picked a few places to try out, and laid plans. “If we’re after building a house staff, let’s target spots where white trash homophobes are likely to cause shit – then we can harvest them.” Peter remarked. Jonathan agreed. “Nice idea. Stop a few queerbashers, let their victims have a good time, unmolested, and get some servants for us. Everyone wins – except the queerbashers. Fair enough.”

With dirty looks on their faces, both guys drew up a shortlist. Then, looking at the list, Jonathan spoke up. “Getting a feeling  - the kind I know never to ignore – that we need to be at the Docklands for the afterparty.” Peter looked surprised. “Docklands? Among a crowd of gay junkies, duff-duff music so loud you can’t hear yourself think, MDMA and every other class A drug under the sun? What the FUCK would we find there?!” Jonathan shrugged. “Not sure – but we HAVE to be there.” Peter was doubtful. “Well, we’ll give it a shot...”

The day came – and passed without incident. Peter was disappointed. “Good party – but very little action and no possible recruitment.” Jonathan agreed. “Everyone’s too focused on fun – and there’s nobody bad enough to warrant conscription. Let’s head to Docklands and see what happens. Nothing to lose.” Peter shrugged. “OK – but let’s flip into true form first.” Jonathan agreed. “If there’s gonna be shit going down there, we can handle it best as BFMs – and we’ll be better able to scope out the crowd than we would in human form too.”

Both guys flipped their bodies back to BFM form... and the two Black Fairy Masters ‘ported to the Docklands, finding the party in full swing. Checking the crowd, Peter remarked “Don’t see anything... just the usual shi-“

“OUT OF THE WAY, YOU FUCKING QUEERS!!! MAKE WAY FOR THE REAL MEN!!!” A gang of US Navy sailors barged into the club. Arrogant, large brutes of men... all viciously homophobic. “This is why we had to be here.” Jonathan murmured to Peter, who nodded in agreement, adding “I don’t think this lot will stop at verbal abuse either. Keep an eye out for rape and queerbashing.” Grimly, Jonathan nodded in agreement. “THAT’S when we take a hand.”

Brash, loud, toxic and abusive... it didn’t take long before the navy guys turned predators. Nor was any subtlety used. “Hey! Get off m-“ a young gay man was picked up by a beefy giant of a sailor and carried, forcibly, out of the club. The others followed suit, each sailor abducting a gay man and carrying them out. Most of the crowd were too drunk and high to notice. Jonathan & Peter, however, DID notice – and followed, invisibly, as the sailors dragged their captives out of a side door and down a back alley.

“Time you bitches learned what a REAL man is like.” snarled the ringleader, as he slammed the young gay twink he’d grabbed against the wall and ripped his pants off. As the others followed suit, Jonathan declared “That’s enough. Time to put a stop to this.”

Jonathan cast a cloaking spell over the alleyway; Peter cast a trance spell on the sailors. Both guys flipped their bodies into human form, projected auras of calm, trust and safety, then used spells of healing, repair and detoxification on every abductee. Leaving a group of badly shaken young gay men standing in the alleyway.

“Th-they were gonna RAPE us!” One guy stammered. Jonathan nodded. “Yeah. And your bodies would’ve ended up in the bay afterwards too. They weren’t gonna stop at just rape.” All the guys went pale. “What happens now?” one of them asked.

Peter answered “THEY” – pointing at the stupefied sailors – “won’t be allowed to bother you again. We’ll deal with them. You’re safe now.” Jonathan added “Do you wanna help bring them down?” Agreement amongst the guys was unanimous. Jonathan grinned. “Then let’s all get to our place.”

Peter ‘ported the sailors to the mansion’s dungeon, where he stripped, plugged and gagged them all, put them in muzzles, restraints & chastity and locked them in a large group cage... finally lifting the trance spell as he locked the cage. As the shocked, furious men thrashed uselessly in their chains, Peter laughed. “Now it’s YOUR turn, bitches. See you later...” as he switched off the lights and locked up the dungeon, heading upstairs.

At the same time, Jonathan ‘ported the group of young guys they’d rescued to the drawing room of the mansion. “OK, everyone. Sit down and relax. We’re in my place, and safe.” Staggered, the guys looked round wildly. “It’s DAYLIGHT out there. Where the fuck ARE we?! WHAT JUST HAPPENED???!!!” one of them – Paul – yelled. “In a magical mansion, on a dimensional ark floating outside space and time.” Jonathan answered. Paul looked even more confused. “That’s fantasy land shit, man. Where on EARTH are we?” Jonathan laughed. “We’re NOT on Earth.”

Another guy – Simon – nodded. “That fits in with the teleportation – I guess that’s how you brought us here?” Jonathan confirmed it. “Yeah. My brother is busy locking up those bastards who tried to rape & murder you – we’ve got a very well equipped dungeon for them. We – and you, if you like – can have our wicked way with them later.” Naughty, nasty, vengeful grins spread across everyone’s faces.

“Yeah – and they’re all under control downstairs. They’re naked, gagged, muzzled, plugged, in restraints and chastity; locked in the big cage. All awake, helpless and hating it.” Peter added, entering the room. Jonathan grinned. “Good going. We’ll make plans for them shortly. For now, let’s chill out a bit and unwind. After that shit in the alleyway, I think we all need it.”

Jonathan & Peter summoned their boys, then turned to their guests. “What’s your poison, guys? Give our bitches your orders.” All were served with drinks & smokes, then sat back round the fireplace. Jonathan spoke. “Time to get acquainted – and give you guys some background information.” Introductions followed, then all listened as Jonathan & Peter told their story.

After the telling was over, the room was silent. Paul shook his head. “I swear I must be having a bad trip. This CAN’T be real.” Simon shrugged. “FEELS real enough. Whatever it is, let’s go with the flow. We might as well have some fun with it.” Paul laughed, uneasily. “What the hell – why not? I can always freak out later, I guess.” Jonathan grinned. “Good man – and there’ll be plenty of fun to be had, too!”

Simon spoke up. “Fun or not, those guys aren’t the only ones who’d do what they were gonna do tonight. And you can’t be there to rescue us every time it happens.” Peter agreed. “The only fix for that is getting you lot beefed up, so you won’t be targeted again.” Jonathan chuckled. “And I’ve got a nice, hot, horny way to do it – with the bonus of poetic justice thrown in for good measure. It’ll be part of the fun. You all up for it?” The chorus of assent was, once more, unanimous. Jonathan grinned. “So be it.”

With a dirty chuckle, Peter led the way downstairs, where all the guys stared in amazement at the prisoners in the cage. Jonathan smirked at Peter. “Nice job, brother. Now, Paul – you can start things off, I think. The ringleader of this lot was the bastard who ripped your pants off in the alleyway. This is what we’re gonna do...” In low tones, Jonathan explained the plan. Paul looked thunderstruck. “WHOA!!! If that works, I’ll start believing all this is real!”

Jonathan grinned. “Then suck it and see!” He walked over to a large upright frame with chains and restraints attached to its inside corners, and waved his hand at it. An eldritch sparkle of green light rippled over the structure. He motioned Paul over to it. “Stand here, in front of the frame – and strip.” Paul did so. “Now I’ll put the bastard in place for you.”

“YYYAAAGGGHHH!!!” The ringleader yelled as Jonathan ‘ported him out of the cage and into the frame, leaving his gag, muzzle, restraints, butt plug and chastity belt behind; the frame’s restraints automatically locked on to his wrists and ankles as he appeared inside it & the chains tightened up until he was spread-eagled in midair, arms and legs stretched into an X. Paul recoiled, instinctively. “Don’t worry – he can’t touch you.” Jonathan spoke calmly. “Now, suck the bastard off. And swallow his entire load. Work as much out of him as you can. You know what to do, and when to pull hard.”  Paul nodded as he knelt before the sailor.

“TAKE YOUR FILTHY LITTLE MOUTH OFF MY COCK, YOU FAGGOT!!!” The guy screamed, as Paul began to deep throat him. Slowly, carefully, Paul brought his captive sailor to climax... going slow enough to drive the guy mad with lustful blue balled agony until he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“HHHAAARRRHHH!!!” With a roar, the sailor came, shooting rope after rope of his man cream down Paul’s throat as Paul swallowed every drop. Unlocking the sailor’s body and gaining access to it in one go. Next, the cumshot over, Paul kept the guy’s cock in his mouth and sucked harder – and the sailor’s eyes widened in horror as he felt Paul start sucking his very essence out of him.

“NNNOOO!!! STOP! PLEASE STOP!!!” The sailor screamed, begging, as Paul sucked his manliness, muscle and manhood out of him. Paul ignored him and kept sucking... his body growing, muscling up, maturing and bulking out; as the captive shrank, became skinny, young and immature. The captive’s chains and restraints had an autofit spell on them, so they extended and tightened as the sailor shrank, keeping him restrained and helpless. Finally, Paul’s cock grew to a thick, solid 9 inches & his balls expanded to bull size... as the captive’s cock and balls shrank and the flow stopped.

“BBBUUURRRPPP!!!” Paul let out a huge belch as he stood up – in a dungeon that was, inexplicably, smaller. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Jonathan smirked at the shock in the suddenly deep and assertive voice, and spoke. “That’s you both done. Take a look at your reflection.” Paul’s jaw dropped as he stared at the mirror... and the 6’5” musclebound piece of beefcake looking back at him. “What the – where the bloody hell did all THIS come from?” Jonathan laughed in joy. “Take a look at the guy you sucked off. There’s your answer.” Turning, Paul looked at the guy he’d just drained – and his jaw dropped at the sight of the terrified little femboy twink hanging where the huge sailor had been. 5’ tall. 22 years old. No muscle. Long blond curls. Effeminate. A 1” nub and peanut sized balls.

Something broke in Paul’s mind. “HA! Who’s the real man now, bitch? Not you, that’s for sure!” Paul gloated... the kid’s eyes wide in fury as he screamed in a high lisping voice “You BATHTARD!!! I WORKED for that muthcle! GIVE IT BACK!!!” Paul laughed. “What – a little thing like you, having all this?! No way. This is MINE now, kid.”  He looked at Jonathan and Peter. “OK – NOW I believe you. And thanks!” Jonathan grinned. “Our pleasure, man.”

As Paul sauntered, cockily, back to the other guys, Jonathan removed the drained captive from the frame, put him back in his gag, muzzle, restraints, plug and chastity belt – all shrunk to fit his little twink body – then shoved him into a small single person cell and locked the door. Then, one by one, each sailor received the same treatment... each administered by the gay guy they’d tried to rape. Each ending up as a 5’ femboy twink, gagged, muzzled, plugged, restrained and locked in chastity, on their own in a single person cell... while the gay guy who’d drained them, now a massive XVWE hunk, rejoined his friends.

Simon was last. Jonathan beckoned him over. “Your turn... we saved the best for last – but you’ll need a bit of help.” The sailor who’d abducted Simon had been the largest, sexiest, best hung piece of beefcake of them all – and Simon was the smallest, tightest and most compact of the gay guys they’d targeted. Jonathan ‘ported the sailor into the frame and secured him, as with all the others... then turned to Simon.

“You need to be a LOT stretchier to do this.” Jonathan waved his hand... and a ripple of green fire flowed over Simon’s face, mouth and throat, then sank into him. “NOW you’re ready. Go to work on the bastard.”

The sailor laughed scornfully as Simon bent over his huge cock. “You REALLY think you can take my man meat, kid? With a tiny little mouth like THAT?! In your dreams!” Then, as the stretch spell took effect and his cock slipped all the way down Simon’s throat, his eyes widened. “Bloody Hell... AAARRRHHH!”

Slowly, carefully, Simon sucked the giant’s thick 10” cock. Working it gradually, carefully, to climax. Having to stand on a box to keep going as the guy got harder. Eventually, the inevitable happened... and as Simon, his stomach bulging with the guy’s cum, sucked harder, the cocky giant’s mass, muscle, manliness and manhood were pulled out of him and into the increasingly large, beefy man sucking him off.

When it was over, the 7’2” hunk stopped sucking and stood up, his 11” cock and bull balls swinging, and looked down at the little guy chained in the frame. Simon spoke, his cocky smirk audible in his deep rumbling voice. “Thanks for the beef, kid.” Without another word, he turned away and swaggered back to the others – now a group of stunning musclebound men with smug, horny faces – on the other side of the dungeon. Not even looking back as the guy he’d drained, now a 5’ femboy twink like all the others, followed his compatriots into gag, muzzle, restraints, butt plug, chastity and a cell.

Jonathan grinned in satisfaction. “That’s that. Now to tidy up... he waved his hand and rewrote reality. “First, nobody remembers the sailors you all drained – a precaution against anyone coming looking for answers. Second, nobody remembers the twinks you were. They only remember the hunks you are now. I’ve also turned you all into workout addicted gym rats – and kept your brains – so you’ve got the knowledge & motivation to account for and maintain your physiques... and I’ve turned you all into tops, because that’s what everyone else will assume you are with your enhanced bodies. Enjoy your new selves and your new lives.”

A chorus of gratitude arose from all the new hunks. Jonathan & Peter smiled. “Our pleasure. Now, there’s a pile of clothes and shoes in the corner – all from the guys you drained. Find some kit that'll fit you, get dressed, and let’s go eat. We need refuelling after the energy we expended here.” Leading the new hunks back to the drawing room, Jonathan and Peter put Nicky and Baz to work on dinner.

After the meal, with everyone sitting back around the big table in the dining room, replete, Simon spoke. “I don’t wanna seem ungrateful or unsociable – but I’m gonna have to get to bed. After the night I’ve had, I need a good long sleep before I hit the gym in the morning. And the workout’s mandatory. Can’t let this food sit too long.” The others echoed his sentiments.

Peter grinned. “No worries – we both understand. That’s how gym rats think – and since we turned you all into gym rats, it’s no surprise... and no offence is taken. We can return you to the normal world at whatever time you wish – but as we pulled you out of the shit about 23:00hrs, it’ll be smoothest if we drop you home about midnight so nobody notices anything unusual. That’ll give you a good night’s sleep. Sound OK?” Following general agreement, Jonathan and Peter ‘ported their guests home.

Sitting back in the drawing room, relaxing over cigars and brandy, Jonathan spoke. “Well, instinct came through again. Multiple rapes, queerbashings and murders prevented; a group of guys who’ll never be threatened again; a gang of homophobes off the deck... and our first batch of houseboys ready for processing. We did good work tonight, brother.” Peter laughed. “Indeed we did! Now let’s get to bed. Tomorrow’s soon enough to deal with our new slaves.” Jonathan chuckled and agreed. “Especially with what I’ve got planned for them.”

The next morning, lying back in bed, Peter asked Jonathan “So what ARE you planning for the new houseboys?” Jonathan smirked. “In a nutshell – low maintenance household staff.” Peter’s eyebrows rose in query. “You’ll understand soon enough.” Jonathan chuckled.

After breakfast, Jonathan led the way to the basement. In between the doors to the lab and dungeon – both completely separate now – he created a third door. “This is our systems room.” Entering the new space,  Peter saw a central control station, with chair, keyboard, monitors and mouse – but no actual computer. Just a large platform at ground level where a server should be, with a butt plug sticking up in its centre. Around the platform, a row of bondage boxes, each with a butt plug and full body clamp restraints, set up with their backs to the server platform. Nothing more. Jonathan looked around, satisfied. “Good. Everything is ready. Now to install the hardware.”

Jonathan walked in to the dungeon. “Now, let’s see who’s most suitable.” Scanning the minds of the imprisoned twinks, he determined that the former ringleader was the best option; hauled him out of his cell, cast a trance spell on him, removed all his restraints, took him to the server room, placed him in the centre of the platform and forced him to sit on the butt plug – which promptly expanded so far it couldn’t come back out, then shortened until his ass was held firmly to the floor. A lock spell was applied to keep him immobile and the trance spell removed.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO ME???!!!” the guy shrieked. Jonathan smirked “Putting you to better use.” Creating a mirror, he added “Watch your reflection. That’ll make you understand.”

With a tingling sensation, the buttplug filled the guy’s ass with... something. But not like anything else he’d experienced before. A cold tingling sensation spread from his asshole throughout his body. A flat mechanical voice spoke. “Nanobot deployment complete. Subverting subject’s physical form.”

The guy shrieked “WHAT THE FUCK???!!!” as his flesh rippled & crawled in a manner both unnatural and unsettling. Jonathan smirked. “This is the end of your organic life, kid – and the start of your much longer mechanical and technological existence. As of this moment, your entire body now consists of nanobots, which have replaced its original organic material.”

The mechanical voice spoke again. “Subject digitised and calibrated. Commencing conversion.” This time, the guy didn’t even get to speak, as his head sank into his shoulders and disappeared; his limbs & genitals retracted into his torso; his ass crack filled up and smoothed over; then the last traces of his humanity disappeared as his torso morphed and expanded into a large metal cube,  covering the platform, and filled with computer chips, circuit boards, SAN drives, cooling fans, electrical power units, cables and all the other paraphernalia necessary to the operation of the high end computer he’d just been turned into. The mechanical voice spoke again. “Conversion complete. Server may now be powered up, reformatted and operating software installed.”

Jonathan smirked. “So far, so good.” Peter was gobsmacked. “Why did you do THAT to him?” Jonathan grinned. “Because I want all the other guys to be mechanical drones, with him as the housekeeping server that controls and co-ordinates their work. That’ll give us a low maintenance house staff. We won’t even have to feed them! All we do is program the server and let it dispatch drones to do its work.”

Peter was thoughtful. “Hmmmm. Nice idea – but is there any risk of him taking over and using the drones to attack or sabotage us?” Jonathan shook his head. “Not once I reformat him and install the necessary software. He’ll lose all independent thought, all free will, and will only be able to follow his own programming. He’ll lack the desire, will and ability to do anything. No worries, brother – we won’t have a robot takeover here.” Peter smiled in relief. “That’s good to know.”

Jonathan plugged the server in to the mansion’s electrical power, connected up the keyboard, mouse and monitors, then powered it up, explaining “We have no internet access – and this operating system and housekeeping software are both proprietary to us. So we have to do the installation the old fashioned way from a stack of CD-ROMs.” As he logged in, inserted a software CD into its drive and opened the server management dashboard app on that disc, a message appeared on screen. In glaring red capitals.

CHANGE ME BACK. PLEASE!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE A MACHINE!!!

Taking out a SANDisk USB flash drive, Jonathan laughed. “No way – and tough shit.” Inside the management app, he triggered a reformatting process. On the screen more text appeared.

STOP!!! YOU’RE WIPING ME OUT!!! STOP STOP STOP!!!

DON’T DELETE ME!!! PLEASE PLEASE PPPLLLEEEAAASSSEEE!!!

Jonathan just laughed, and let the process continue. More and more panicked text ran across the screen, getting increasingly illogical and incoherent. Eventually it disappeared altogether; shortly afterwards, the management app returned a message “Reformatting complete.” Jonathan replaced the CD with a series of others, from which he installed a new operating system, then slipped the flash drive into a USB port and triggered the housekeeping software installation. As the software was installed, Jonathan explained to Peter “The reformatting wiped all his old mental processes, memories and knowledge. Now the operating system and the housekeeping software constitute his mind and memory. He can only function, and serve. Nothing else.”

With the reformatting and installation complete Jonathan placed the housekeeping app on autostart, then restarted the server. It booted up, came online and opened the housekeeping app without any further messaging or complaints. “Good. Now for the others.”

Two by two, Jonathan & Peter brought the other guys through from the dungeon and secured each in a bondage box, with the butt plug up their asshole, the restraints clamping them in place and a lock spell preventing any attempt at movement. Then they plugged each bondage box into the mansion’s electrical power and connected it to the server with data cables.

Sitting down at the console, Jonathan accessed the housekeeping app and activated its drone assimilation mode. On screen, the app displayed a series of messages.

COMMENCING MOBILE DRONE ASSIMILATION.

SCANNING IN PROGRESS.

23 SUBJECTS DETECTED.

COMMENCING NANOBOT DEPLOYMENT.

“WHAT THE FUCK???!!!” Yells came from all 23 guys in the bondage boxes as the nanobots flooded their assholes and spread throughout their bodies. On screen, the messages continued.

NANOBOT DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE.

COMMENCING PHYSICAL FORM SUBVERSION.

“HOLY SHIT!!!” The guys in the boxes shivered as their forms rippled. On screen...

PHYSICAL SUBVERSION COMPLETE.

COMMENCING MECHANICAL CONVERSION.

Simultaneously, all 23 guys changed into robots. All identical. Featureless. Limbs, hands and feet all became smooth metal tubes and appendages. Genitals retracted & ass cracks filled in & smoothed over, leaving only a charging socket, as buttplugs turned into charging plugs. Torsos became plain smooth metal cases. Heads became boxes wrapped in smooth full face visors. Behind the visors, eyes were replaced by cameras, mouths by speakers, ears by microphones. Inside, nerves became cables, organs became batteries and motors, muscles & sinews became hydraulic systems and brains became bundles of circuit boards, processors & memory chips. On screen...

MECHANICAL CONVERSION COMPLETE.

COMMENCING DRONE REFORMATTING.

As the reformatting wiped all their memories, knowledge, skills, abilities and mental processes,  the display showed the individual progress of each drone’s reformatting. Once these all reached 100%, further messages followed.

DRONE REFORMATTING COMPLETE.

COMMENCING SERVICE UNIT PROGRAMMING.

Again the display showing individual progress for each drone, as the necessary operating software, controls and skills were installed into each unit. Once all reached 100%...

WIRELESS CONTROLS ACTIVATED.

APPLYING PROTECTIVE COATING.

Each drone was promptly encased in a suit of featureless, smooth, shiny, strong black rubber. On screen...

RESTARTING DRONE UNITS.

All the drones powered down, then rebooted. Instantiating their new software and systems. On screen, the prompts became more businesslike.

ANALYSING STATUS OF HOUSE AND GARDENS.

ESTABLISHING WORK PRIORITIES.

ASSIGNING DUTIES.

INITIALISING DRONE OPERATIONAL AND RECHARGING SCHEDULES.

DEPLOYING DRONES.

The bondage boxes all opened, each drone bot climbed out, then exited the room to its assigned tasks. Jonathan logged out of the server, leaving it running, and grinned at Peter. “What do you think of that, brother?” Peter looked at him, thoughtfully. “Inventive and perverse! I can see we’re in for an interesting and exciting life. Cool!”

Jonathan laughed. “Yeah. This is gonna be fun, man. REAL fun!” Grinning, they both headed up to the drawing room and summoned their boys. Jonathan briefed Nicky & Baz on the drone deployment, and eliminated magical housekeeping in the mansion and gardens – it was now the housekeeping system’s responsibility to handle that, and only the outer parkland remained under magical maintenance. Next, Jonathan & Peter got their boys started on dinner.

Settling back with cigars and brandy, both Masters turned their attention to the future. “So what shall we get up to next?” Jonathan asked. Peter was thoughtful. “I’ve got an idea... something I’ve always wanted to try. There’s a gay bikers’ club on the edge of town. Mix of colours – Black, White, Latino; even a couple of members of the Choctaw Nation who came up here on a vision quest and stayed – so we should fit right in. We’ve got the gear – what we don’t have we can create – and being a biker is something I’ve dreamed of for a long time.” Jonathan grinned. “Would you be shocked if I told you it’s been a dream of mine too?” Peter laughed. And laughed. “We really ARE a right frigging pair, aren’t we?”

Jonathan chuckled. “But where do we start as regards our bikes? Skills and licenses are easy enough – a bit of magic will give us both – but neither of us knows enough about the actual machines to pick something suitable.”

Mark spoke up. “Boss – I used to be a biker... and I’ve got some advice on that matter that might be helpful.” Peter was interested. “Tell us more.” Mark continued, “The modern high-tech bikes are best avoided. They’re TOO tech heavy to be repaired or maintained by their riders. You’ll get better service from an older bike that isn’t a computer on wheels. Also, some of the older bikes are better made and more reliable, as they predate the rise of planned obsolescence by manufacturers.”

Jonathan was thoughtful. “Good points, there. Also, the high-tech bikes often have GPS, and I don’t want to freak out federal agencies if some computer gets collywobbles when our signal crosses in or out of this dimension. That’s a level of attention we MUST avoid. The only problem is wear & tear, replacement parts etc. – which will be an issue for older models – but that can be circumvented by preservation spells. So an older bike ticks all the boxes. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Hmmmm.” Mark was thoughtful. “Yes, actually – one, above all others. A Harley-Davidson flathead. Late 1930s – late 1940s. No earlier than 1937. Big, solid, reliable, straightforward to maintain and lots of fun to ride. There was a sidecar available with the bike – which could also be useful.”

Jonathan was surprised. “I thought the knuckleheads were better?” Mark was dismissive. “More popular, yes – but that’s not everything. The flathead remained in production for decades, long after the rollout of knuckleheads and other models, and was used by a lot of police departments and other state and federal agencies, for decades... which speaks volumes about its reliability and speed. Also, due to material shortages caused by the Second World War, the pre-war bikes are often made of better stuff than the wartime and early post-war ones.”

“Makes sense – thanks, Mark.” Peter replied. “Indeed.” Jonathan agreed. “We now have a definite target. Let’s find one that we can duplicate.” Mark added, “Museums and collectors are the best place to start – I know of a few we can check out.”

With nods of agreement, they began searching... starting with Mark’s recommendations. It didn’t take long to find what they were looking for. A 1937 Harley-Davidson UL flathead, in original and roadworthy condition; lovingly maintained and run by a military veteran who’d owned it for decades.

With a grin and a ripple of eldritch magic, after midnight in its garage, Jonathan and Peter analysed both bike and sidecar; then, before ‘porting back to the mansion, they placed spells of maintenance, preservation and renewal on them by way of gratitude – the owner was finding maintenance increasingly difficult due to age, and this might let him enjoy the road a bit longer.

That done, they ‘ported home and copied the design into the large holotank. Examining the design, Jonathan was impressed. “I’m no engineer – but even I can tell this is a good, solid, reliable workhorse. One with quite a bit of spirit.” Peter agreed. “A great recommendation, Mark. Many thanks.” Mark chuckled. “My pleasure. I’m gonna love having the wind on me again. I’ve missed it.” Jonathan laughed. “A suitable and fitting reward. So be it!”

Peter spoke, thoughtfully. “Might be a good idea to set things up so that the sidecars can be magically extruded out of the bikes at need – lets us be more flexible.” Jonathan nodded in agreement. “Good idea. Let’s head outside and create our chariots.” Both guys headed upstairs.

On the flagstone courtyard in front of the mansion, both Masters crafted their bikes. Black as midnight, but lined in gold. Decorated in golden Celtic knotwork. All the chrome also replaced by gold. Sidecars to the same pattern. Both machines statements of power. Both equipped with cross-dimensional capabilities, allowing their riders to cross between the mansion and Earth. Both licensed in the State of California. Both riders also trained, tested and licensed in that State. The final touches were preservation & protection spells, preventing wear, tear and breakdowns of both machines.

Looking at the machines, and each other, Jonathan & Peter grinned. Jonathan turned to Baz & Nicky. “Hold dinner. See you when we see you.” Then Peter spoke. “Let’s ride, brother!” Absorbing the sidecars back into their bikes, they kicked their machines into life and took off – literally so, as they lifted into the heavens, over an interdimensional rainbow bridge and onto a California highway. Heading for the meeting of the gay biker club they’d previously discussed.

Wind in their faces, they blasted down the highway – all thoroughly enjoying the experience. None more so than Mark. He hadn’t been exaggerating about missing the wind on him... and getting it now just made him feel SO good. Suddenly, life as Jonathan’s boots didn’t seem bad at all.

The wind lessened as they turned off the highway towards the bar where the group met up. Several machines outside, their owners standing beside them smoking. Heads turned as Jonathan & Peter roared in. Parking nearby, Peter turned to a redheaded biker standing beside an old Indian bike. “Angus? Peter – we spoke a few days ago.”

With a grin, Angus held out a hand and greeted him, in a voice that carried the faint remnants of a Scottish brogue. “Good to meet you at last, man!” Peter grinned. “Better late than never.” Peter introduced Jonathan, who liked what he saw of the man. “Welcome! Good to meet you. Come inside, guys.” Peter & Jonathan followed him inside. Into an atmosphere of leather, boots, gauntlets, man and bike smells. And an interested & appreciative welcome from the other guys present.

Sitting at the bar, talk turned to the group’s weekend plans. A run up the coast to a member’s place in Washington State was on the cards – starting in the next hour or so – and everyone was looking forward to it. Peter & Jonathan cheerfully accepted the invitation to join the group, and discussion turned to the fun planned for the weekend. Rick, an elderly army veteran who’d served as a courier & dispatch rider, was cheerful about it. “Steve’s got a LOT of bushes on his land – and even a small forest. Plenty of spots to draw persons of, ahem, ‘interest’ into private encounters.” Jonathan laughed, dirtily. “Sounds perfect.”

They were sitting at the bar, talking, when Angus’ phone rang. “Hey, man. What’s up?” Listening to the caller, his face turned into a scowl. “That’s just fucking SHITTY luck, Steve. OK... I’ll let the guys know. Hope he gets well soon.” Putting the phone back in his jacket, he turned round & called for everyone’s attention. “Guys, bad news. Just heard from Steve. His boy’s down with COVID – and it’s a bad dose. Hospital, intubation, ventilator & quarantine shit, so he’s had to cancel the run.” The bar fell silent. “That’s crap. Hope he’s better soon.” Rick growled. “But right now, that’s our weekend ruined.”

Peter’s voice spoke, quietly and privately, in the back of Jonathan’s head. “Shall we step up to the plate and take them to ours?” Jonathan was thoughtful, answering the same way. “Sure – let’s see if we can persuade them.” He turned to Angus. “How would spending the weekend at a private mansion instead sound? Plenty of garden and parkland space – and we can be totally certain we won’t be interrupted.” There was silence round the bar. “Sounds acceptable.” Rick growled. Angus nodded. “OK, lads. Lead us to it!” Jonathan grinned. “With pleasure!” Speaking in the back of Peter’s mind, Jonathan asked “Will you take the tail end, brother? I’ll lead, and I’ll let you know when to lift.” Peter agreed. “Sure.”

As everyone headed out to their hogs, Jonathan spoke. “I’ll lead – Peter will bring up the rear. Just follow me. All OK?” A chorus of agreement answered him. Everyone got on their bikes, and followed Jonathan up into the hills. Coming up a small rise, Jonathan’s voice spoke in the back of Peter’s mind. “On the count of five... one; two; three; four; FIVE – and LIFT.” Tapping into their faery powers, Jonathan at the front joined forces with Peter at the rear to wrap every biker and every bike between them in a net of green fire and lift them up from the road, out of the world, over the rainbow, to land on the flagstone courtyard of their mansion.

“Welcome to our home, brothers. Leave the machines here – they’ll be quite safe.” Jonathan spoke to the group of stunned riders. Shakily, Angus swung out of his saddle. “Now THAT was freaky!!! WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE???!!!” Peter laughed. “Our place – a mansion and grounds, located on a dimensional ark floating outside space and time.” Jonathan grinned. “Sorry if we freaked you out – didn’t think you’d believe it without first experiencing it.” Rick was amazed. “What the bloody hell ARE you two guys? I saw that net of green fire you both put round us when you lifted us here – weird shit.” Angus nodded. “Yeah. It’s something only the faery folk are supposed to be capable of. What’s going on, guys?” Jonathan grinned. “That’s a long story. Come inside, and we’ll tell it over drinks, smokes and whatever else you want.”

Leading the group inside, Jonathan & Peter summoned their boys. Orders were taken, and hosts & guests settled back with drinks and smokes in the drawing room. Jonathan summoned Nicky and introduced Mark – to wide eyes and gasps of shock. Especially from Rick. “MARK?! So THAT’S what happened to you?! That’s just shit, man. SHIT.” Mark chuckled. “No worries, man. Vengeance has already been served, thanks to my Boss – and there are some unexpected compensations too. Nicky, tell the guys about your bit of mischief, as that’s what started everything off – Jonathan and I will pick up the story afterwards.” The whole story unfolded, before an increasingly stunned group. Rick growled “That’s a hell of a tale.” Jonathan agreed. “It is – and the living of it’s been even more incredible than the telling of it.”

Angus asked, “So, you’re in human form right now – can you show us your faery forms? I'd like to see you both as you really are.” With a grin, Jonathan & Peter obliged, flipping their bodies back to BFM form. Every biker stared in fascination at the two 1 inch tall black leatherclad figures, each surrounded by a nimbus of green faery magic, standing on the table. “This is us. This is what we’ve become.” Jonathan told them, letting everyone have a good look, before he & Peter flipped their bodies back into human form and lifted their glasses.

Everyone sat back and relaxed over drink, smoke and small talk... Peter giving directions to the bathroom for guys who needed it. Russell, coming back from the bathroom, walked in shaken. “Guys – there’s fucking humanoid ROBOTS walking around this place! I just saw one cleaning the stairs!” Peter laughed. “Yeah – that’s our household staff. We’ve got 23 of them, under the wireless control of a big housekeeping server in the basement. The system does a pretty good job of looking after the place. They’re harmless – just ignore them and let them get on with their tasks.” Eyes were wide. Jonathan spoke. “There’s a lot here to get used to – how about a guided tour? Help you all get oriented here and adjust to our home’s quirks?”

Agreement was immediate and unanimous. Jonathan & Peter took their guests round, showing them the mansion and getting everyone settled in their bedrooms. Then, with that done, Jonathan led the way downstairs. “Time to show you all the fun part.”

Appreciation for the dungeon was immediate, with several guys getting ideas right then & there. The systems room intrigued everyone, but caused no fear or alarm – Jonathan & Peter both kept quiet about the real origins of both drones and server. The lab raised everyone’s eyebrows.

“So this is the sorcerer’s lair, huh?” Rick asked. “Yeah – this is it.” Jonathan answered. “All kinds of mischief have been concocted here – and more will follow, in due course.”

Stuart spoke up, his big, beefy, hairy arm round his husband Anthony’s slim shoulders. “Have you got anything that can turn a daddy into a twink, and vice versa?” Anthony added “It’s been a fantasy of ours for years – we’d love to indulge it.” Jonathan grinned. “Well, my friends... this is your lucky day – because we have. Here you are.” He handed Stuart a small vial of a silver liquid. “This will turn you into a twink. Lasts 12 hours, then you revert to normal.” He handed Anthony a small vial of a white gold liquid. “This will turn you into a muscle daddy. As with your husband’s potion, it lasts 12 hours, then reverts.” Thoughtfully, he added “I suggest you both strip naked before you swallow your potions – and make sure you’re naked for your reversions – otherwise your clothes are gonna be left in a right state.” Peter added “Go stand in front of the mirror first – then you can watch your own changes!”

Stuart & Anthony gave each other a wicked look... then stripped naked, stepped up to the mirror and picked up their vials. Stuart spoke. “On the count of three – one; two; three!” And each guy opened their vial and swallowed every drop of its contents.

“OOOUUUGGGHHH!!!” Stuart & Anthony doubled over as the potions hit, then staggered upright. And everyone watched in amazement as they changed.

Stuart gasped as his body hair and tattoos vanished; he became clean shaven; his dark buzz cut turned into blond curls, and his body seemed to fold in on itself, losing mass and getting younger, skinnier & smaller – as the 6’3” 48 year old well hung biker daddy turned into a 5’2” 23 year old twink with a bubble butt and a tiny cock.

Anthony cried out as his body exploded, muscle packing on as he grew; sprouted hair; his blond curls turned into a black mane; his face squared off in a more masculine form, then vanished under a thick beard and moustache, and his cock and balls enlarged – as the skinny 27 year old 5’6” man turned into a well hung 43 year old 6’5 hairy muscle daddy.

“HHHRRRGGGHHH!!!” Both guys shuddered as the potions changed their inner natures to match their bodies. Jonathan laughed. “And that’s that. Fantasy fulfilled. You OK, guys?” Anthony smirked. “You just BET we are – aren’t we, boy?” Stuart, meekly, replied “Yeth, thir”. Anthony roared in laughter. “FUCK. Twink right down to the lisp!!! FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!”

Jonathan grinned. “Glad you like it. Remember – 12 hours. And counting.” Anthony grinned. “Then there’s no time to waste. Come here, boy.” Without another word, he scooped Stuart up in his arms and carried him out of the lab. All the guys heard the stairs creak as Anthony carried his boy up to their bedroom. Peter thoughtfully ‘ported their discarded gear up to their room.

A stunned silence filled the lab. Angus spoke first. “WOW. Talk about a walk on the wild side!” Russell agreed. “Those two are gonna be talking about this for MONTHS, I bet!”

Peter laughed, then asked, “Anyone else have magical fantasies they want to play with? If we don’t have a potion for it, a spell can do just as well. We won’t do anything permanent – that 12 hour time limit is universal – but nobody’s gonna judge you, so indulge yourselves.”

Wide eyed and drawing deep breaths, everyone exchanged looks. Russell spoke first. “This is gonna sound weird... but I always dreamed of being invisible. And the fun I could have goosing guys would be something else.”

Peter grinned. “Go stand in front of the mirror.” Russell did so... then Peter waved his hand, and a net of green fire rippled over Russell’s body. Before the amazed looks of everyone else, Russell shimmered – and disappeared.

Peter asked, “All OK there?” Russell’s voice came out of thin air “Absolutely grand. I’m off for a wander – watch your asses, everyone... cos you’ll only know I’m there when I grab you!” With a laugh, the lab door opened and closed. Peter grinned. “Who’s next?”

The other 16 guys exchanged thoughtful looks. Angus spoke. “We’ve nothing specific in that line... but I know we all got horny over bodyswap fantasies. Maybe that’s something to play with?” Jonathan grinned. “Any preferences – or shall we just draw lots?” With a laugh, all 16 guys put their names in a jar. Peter drew the first 2 slips. “Angus and Diego!” He snapped his fingers, and yells of shock echoed from the redheaded biker and the Latino stud as they instantly swapped bodies. The draw went on, until the last pair were called and swapped.

Looking at all 16 swapped guys, checking out their bodies with amazed – and dirtily appreciative – expressions, Jonathan laughed in joy. “NOW let’s get the party started!” Leading everyone to the dining room, where a buffet was laid out, he declared “Help yourselves, guys. And the dungeon is at your disposal if you want to get serious.”

What followed was a night of mischief and fun, with almost nobody knowing who they were fucking or who was fucking them. The potions and spells all reverted while everyone was waking up the next morning... causing some decidedly farcical situations as guys woke up beside other guys they’d never climb into bed with in a month of Sundays. Everyone saw the humour, though, and farce degenerated into laughter. None more so than Angus & Diego, who discovered that Russell had sneaked in between them in bed, making their midnight shag a threesome they’d never realised they were having... with the invisible man in the middle!

Downstairs, around a breakfast buffet in the dining room, everyone gathered and gossiped, laughing about the night just over. Jonathan grinned at Peter. “Looks like everyone had a good night, huh?” Peter smirked. “Damn right they did!” Angus, getting reacquainted with his original body, agreed. “Been a marvellous bit of fun – but I’ll never dare publish the details on our blog!” Peter grinned. “Just say you had a run out to your new brothers’ place, and drop some non-specific hints about a hot & horny night. Enough to make people envious & interested, nothing more.” Angus grinned. “Nice idea!”

Laughing and chilling, everyone relaxed in the morning light. Jonathan took the guys on a tour of the grounds, then after brunch, brought up another subject. “Guys – something we didn’t tell you. This dimensional ark we’re on can traverse time as well as space. So we can return to the normal world at any time we want. We can stay here for months, and return to Earth 5 minutes after we left – as an example. So if you want to hang around a while, then return to Earth in time for your Sunday dinner, you can. And you’re welcome to do so.”

Grins all round followed his words, and the party ran on for many more days and nights. Nor was it the end of the magical malarkey, as more shapeshifts and body swaps took place.

This began with Angus & Diego drawing Jonathan aside for a naughty request.

“We wanna do a revenge thing on Russell – the cheeky fucker climbed into bed between us last night, while he was invisible, and gave us a threesome we didn’t realise was happening in the dark!”

Jonathan grinned. “How about a couple of bodyswaps – each of you takes a turn swapping with him, but it happens without his foreknowledge or consent?"

Diego grinned. “Nice idea – can you make him uncontrollably horny for his old body as well, while he’s swapped? Then WE can do the threesome thing on him!”

Jonathan laughed. “Perfect! OK – 12 hours each. Random choice as to who goes first – second swap follows immediately once the first one ends. Ready?” Both guys nodded. Jonathan snapped his fingers. Angus’ body staggered and gasped... down the table, Russell’s body blinked – and laughed.

Diego chuckled as Angus, in Russell’s body, sauntered up to them – and Russell, in Angus’ body, got hard. Angus grinned. “You want a taste of your body, Russell?” Russell growled, “You just fucking BET I do!” Angus smirked. “Then it’s gotta be a three way with Diego. Deal?” Helplessly horny, Russell could only nod... as the other two took him back to the bedroom.

Down the table, Rick laughed. “They wanted to get their own back on him – hope they enjoy it!”

Jonathan grinned. “By the time both swaps are over, none of them’ll even be able to walk straight!”

With laughs all round, the other guys toasted the swappers.

Stuart walked up to Peter, with a naughty request of his own. “Can you turn Anthony into a nice housetrained black labrador & make him obedient to me? After the way he dominated me and pounded my holes last night, I think it’s time our usual power dynamic was boosted a bit.” Peter smirked, and crafted a plain black leather pup hood, with collar included. “Put it on him and the spell will engage. It will dissolve and the spell revert 12 hours after you put it on him.” With a sneaky grin, Stuart wandered over to Anthony and brought him down in a classic rugby tackle, then forced him into the hood. Fastening the collar round his boy’s neck, Stuart rumbled in his ear. “WOOF”, then stepped back to watch the change.

With a ripple of green light, the hood suctioned itself onto Anthony’s head and the collar merged into a thick leather band without strap, buckle or any other fastening. Next, green fire ran down over Anthony’s body, and all his clothes vanished.

Inside the hood, Anthony’s eyes widened as the thick band round his neck began to thin out and extend down over the rest of his body, encasing him in seamless black leather with no fastenings or methods of release. His shoulders and pecs were covered first; then black leather ran down his arms, ending in seamless black gloves. Next, the leather continued to extend downwards over his torso, wrapping his cock & balls in a second skin of leather, plugging his ass with a pup tail, and continuing down his legs. As it reached his ankles, he rose off the ground to allow the leather to encase his feet, then was lowered back down once his encasement was complete.

Stunned, Anthony didn’t even have time to gasp as his transformation progressed further. The leather suctioned onto his body just like his hood had, becoming skintight. His back bent forward as his hips reshaped and he lost the ability to stand upright. His limbs reshaped, legs becoming rear legs, thighs turning into haunches, arms turning into forelegs; his hands and feet reshaped themselves into paws. His tail and spine fused, the tail lengthening to become his real tail. His head and hood fused, the hood becoming his head and face, the leather nose and ears becoming his own nose and ears.

The final touch came as his suit & hood turned into a black, smooth, hairy pelt, growing out of his hide.

Sitting back, Anthony tried to yell “WHAT THE FUCK?!”... but all that came out of his doggy mouth was “WUFF WUFF WUFF?! WUFF WUFF WUFF!!!!”

Stuart laughed as Anthony was reprogrammed into obedient doggy mode, then snapped his fingers. “Here, boy.” Anthony obediently padded over to Stuart. “Sit.” An ordinary dog collar and leash was put on him, and he sat. As ordered. “Good boy.” Anthony’s tail thumped the floor in pleasure. Like any good dog.

Stuart grinned, lit a fresh cigar and sat back with his brandy as Baz brought & filled water and food bowls for Anthony.

Jonathan hooted in laughter, looking at the gorgeous black labrador sitting beside his master. “NICE one, brother!” Peter grinned. “Thanks, man.”

Jonathan turned to the other 14 guys. “Anyone up for more random bodyswapping?” A chorus of assent greeted the question. “OK – here you go!” Jonathan snapped his fingers again – and everyone staggered back with gasps, followed by laughter. Jonathan spoke. “12 hours, as usual... then you all swap again. Nobody gets swapped into the same body twice. Nobody gets back to their original body until they’ve had a turn in everyone else’s bodies. Once you’re back to your original body, it’s over. Enjoy!”

The following seven days and nights were filled with kinky, magical, transformative fun. Ending when everyone finally returned to their own bodies and forms. By which time everyone was shagged out – literally and figuratively – so the party wound down with good, uninterrupted sleep as everyone slept the clock round, finally awakening, refreshed and energised, 36 hours later.

Coming down to the dining room for a farewell breakfast, Jonathan & Peter found the room full of happy, fulfilled guys... with the only things swapped being phone numbers. Angus raised his coffee in a toast to their hosts, and everyone else followed suit.

“Thanks for a really fucking AMAZING party, guys.” Angus spoke, and a chorus of agreement rose in response. Peter & Jonathan smiled. “It’s been our pleasure, guys.” Jonathan answered, and Peter added “We must do it again. Soon!” Laughs rose in accord.

After breakfast, Jonathan and Peter lifted everyone back to California... arriving there the morning after they’d left. With hugs, laughs and backslaps, they parted company, arranging to meet up for drinks the following month. Jonathan & Peter rode back home over the rainbow. Everyone satisfied, satiated and happy.

Back in the mansion, both guys relaxed over cigars and brandy. “Glad we followed our biker dreams, brother?” Jonathan asked. “Definitely – and it won’t be the last time either.” Peter answered. Jonathan was in full agreement. “Indeed not. That bike run turned into the kind of party I want to see here – and we made some good friends too. Certainly we keep going with it.”

Sunset was approaching, and the shadows getting longer; dusk crept across the Bay and the Golden Gate.

Inside The Grizzly Cobbler, John finished his last boot repair of the day with a sigh. Folsom was kicking off tomorrow, and a string of horny leather guys had been coming through the door to get boots fixed up all week. Good business... but frustrating when you’re too shy to flirt with them. Even when their eyes showed their interest in the quiet guy behind the counter.

What drew them was the shop’s reputation for high quality repair work. None of them knew that John used magic to help fix their boots... thanks to a naughty Druid screwing a distant ancestor, his family had a knack for it, and he’d developed his magical gifts to help in his work.

He was about to close up and go upstairs to his apartment over the shop, when the doorbell jangled. Turning to the door, his greeting died on his lips.

Nicholas.

The twink who still owed him for that repair to his little spangly pink Doc Martens bootlets. Who kept making excuses about why he couldn’t pay. Now standing in the door with a large bag.

The last guy John wanted to see. And he was tired enough to snap.

“Unless you’re here to pay up, fuck off.”

Nick looked hopeful.

“Got a offer on my debt for you.”

John sighs. “OK. Let’s hear it.”

Nick opens the bag, hauls out a pair of crotch high Wesco Big Boss Engineer boots.

“These belonged to my last Sir. Fix ‘em up and they’re yours-sell them on to pay off what I owe you. OK?”

“Let’s have a look.”

Nick hands the boots over. Good leather, but scuffed & filthy. Crusty with dried spit, sweat & cum. Heels and soles worn down and unstable. Stinking of men, sex and sweat.

The blasted things trigger John’s boot fetish. Thank fuck the counter hides his bulge.

“Need a lot of work. But after I fix ‘em, they’ll bring in enough to cover your debt.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake hands. Nicholas leaves the shop... with a nasty little smirk that John doesn’t catch.

As John closes up the shop, the fug from the boots spreads through the place. And the more their stink spreads, the more his bulge grows.

The boner gets too big to ignore. Giving in, John turns his machines back on.

First step, cleanup. Nine tins of saddle soap later, the boots are clean. Inside and out. But their musky man & leather smell lingers... and John’s briefs are wet with precum by the time he’s done.

Next, heels and soles. As John strips off what’s left of both, then starts stitching, grinding, gluing and nailing new ones on, he ignores the nightlife waking up outside.

Finally, conditioner, then polish. Making the boots a beautiful horny, glossy black.

John uses magic throughout the work, assisting and enhancing the work of his hands and tools, renewing as well as repairing. As usual.

But this time, something felt different. The boots felt alive, pulsing, responsive to John’s touch and magic in a way he’d never experienced. And the sensation got stronger the further he went with the repairs.

That sensation gets John excited. And, standing tall, looking powerful, the finished boots make the wet patch on the front of his jeans get bigger.

Muttering “Just want to see how they feel inside. Gotta check they walk right before I put them up for sale...”, John switches off the equipment and carries the boots upstairs to his loft.

Standing in front of the hallway mirror, John pulls the boots on.

“GOTCHA!!!”

And the boots instantly clamp on to John’s feet and legs, irremovably.

“WTF???!!!” WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! GET OFF ME!!!”

“The name’s Mark. I was Nick’s master... ‘til the little bitch used an old spell book from a thrift store to turn me into these boots!”

“I ordered him to turn me back... he laughed and said the shapeshift is permanent.”

“So we made a deal. He used the book to give me power over whoever puts me on, and now I take down guys who he owes but can’t pay.”

John swallowed. Hard.

“Wha-what are you gonna do to me?”

“Normally I’d just swallow you and teleport back to Nick’s place... but you’ve earned special treatment.”

A web of golden light surges up from the boots, dissolving John's clothes and leaving him naked, wearing the boots and nothing else.

Then, John himself is dissolved into the light... and sucked into the boots.

As he’s absorbed into the very boots he’d repaired with such care, he hears Mark's voice again.

“Nobody’s done anything FOR me since I was turned into these boots, until you used your craft and your magic to repair and renew me. And you went over and above the attention required in doing it. So screw that little twink and his deal. I owe you this.”

“First, you get bigger.”

Wrapped in leathery darkness, John feels himself stretched... as the boots grow from size 10.5D to 20EE and gain several inches in height.

“Next, bring Daddy out to play.”

Golden light surges out of the boots, returning John to human form.

But something is different. This isn’t his body. It’s bigger. Taller. Heavier. Broader. Packed with hard solid muscle-the kind that’s built by tough, gritty manual labour. Not the lumpy & bumpy gym muscles sported by other guys. Tattoos snaking across the skin, under a pelt of black hair. And a scarily large cock hanging between a pair of bull balls.

Staring at the mirror, John feels his jaw drop.

A total stranger is looking back at him.

The 5’8” skinny guy with the soft face and body is gone. A 6’10” muscle daddy, covered in black hair, beard & tattoos, stands in his place... with huge balls and an incredible, thick, 12” cock rubbing against his crotch-high boots.

“Whoa!” What the...”

John’s shocked. Even his voice is different. Deeper. Rougher. Commanding.

“Shit! I don’t even SOUND like me any more!!!”

Mark laughs.

“Next stop, BLUF town.”

Snug, glossy black leather rolls out over John’s body.

Leather jeans rise up from inside his boots, wrapping his cock and balls in a padded codpiece as they go.

A leather shirt and tie covers his torso and arms.

A waistcoat snaps itself round his chest.

A leather biker jacket envelops his upper body, then zips and straps itself closed.

Long gauntlets sheathe his hands, wrists and forearms.

Muir cap and aviator sunglasses crown the outfit.

Like, WOW.

Then... “Time to get rid of the fucking imposter. This is Daddy’s show now!”

“AAARRRGGGHHH...!!!”

John roars in shock, staggering as the light surges into his head, dissolving what remains of the shy, introverted cobbler and pouring it down into his balls... while the space left behind in his head is filled by his new self.

His soft brown eyes turn a deep powerful green as John becomes Master Jonathan. Memories of nights in backrooms and dungeons flood in from nowhere. Flogging subs on a St. Andrew’s cross. Boys in bondage. His boots being worshipped. Fucking a twink’s tight hole in the sling. Stretching boys’ throats with his man meat. And all the dominance, knowledge and experience that makes him one of the most sought after Sirs in town.

The icing on the cake is his magic, which strengthens and broadens, expanding him from a magical mender to a full-on sorcerer, capable of endless magical fun and mischief.

His whole life, rewritten in a few moments.

“DONE. This is who you are now. Get used to it.”

Mark locks the transformation down, preventing any further changes. Master Jonathan is here to stay. Like it or not.

Shaking, shocked-and excited-Jonathan checks himself over with new eyes.

Tall boots. Gauntlets. Leather. Height. Muscle. The manliness, confidence and dominance he’s dreamt of for years. Cock, balls & magic to match.

Multiple fantasies manifested at one go.

The sheer fucking RUSH it gives him is too much to hold in.

Desperately pulling his pants open, Jonathan releases his cock and starts stroking, groaning at how sensitive his huge schlong is now... and the feel of his leather gloves on his shaft.

“HHHNNNGGGHHH!!!”

“HHHRRRGGGHHH...!!!”

As he strokes, all that’s left of John is churned into hot man-cream inside his balls.

“RRROOOWWWHHHRRR!!!”

With a roar, his cock releases rope after rope of hot cum, splashing the last bits of John all over the mirror.

As John is kicked out forever, becoming nothing more than mess and memory, Master Jonathan settles confidently into place. And takes command.

He wipes his cock clean and tucks it back inside his leathers.

“Many thanks, Mark. Now, we need to do something about Nick. First, I’m pissed at him for trying to do this to me and I wanna kick him in the teeth for it; second, he won’t be happy with what you’ve done, and I won’t have him mess us about any further. So... how about we get our own back on the little cunt and put a stop to his shit, in one go? Pre-emptive strike sorta thing?”

A nasty laugh answers him.

“Sounds fucking perfect. He’ll be at the pre-Folsom party now. What’re you thinking of doin’ to him?”

“First, we need that old spellbook. I’ve got magic gifts myself... wanna see if we can find something in it to use on him, and make sure he can’t use more magic against us. And check if he told you the truth about your shapeshift not being reversible.”

“WHOA! You think there might be a way out for me?!”

“Might be... but until I see the spell he used, I can’t be certain. So no promises, OK? Nick seems a bit dodgy, so there’s cause for doubt, at least. I wouldn’t put it past him to have lied about it to get your cooperation.”

“OK. I felt you using your magic when you worked on me... which is why I included it in your upgrade. So I know you CAN do magic. And even if he was being honest with me, I’d still go along with your plan for the chance to get revenge on that bastard. POETIC. FUCKING. JUSTICE. Let’s do this!"

Reality warps round Jonathan as Mark teleports him, hurling him through extra-dimensional spacetime into Nick’s house a few blocks away. Right into Nick’s bedroom.

“Book is in the safe under the bed. Combination as follows...”

Following Mark’s directions, Jonathan opens the safe, takes out the spellbook, then closes and locks the safe.

“Let’s get back to my place.”

Reality twists again as Mark ‘ports them back to his apartment.

Over a strong coffee, Jonathan flips through the spellbook.

“Here. A spell that drains his free will and his magic away, makes him obedient. Should do exactly what we want. Put that little prick right where he belongs and stop him messing with us!”

Jonathan takes a heavy silver neck chain from his desk drawer, enchants it with the spell from the book and slips it into a black silk pouch.

“Why the silk? Seems a bit fancy.”

“Insulates the spell. Silk blocks all magic and psychic shit.”

“Didn’t know that. You're really clued in on this stuff."

“Yeah. Family thing, y’know.”

“Right. Pre-Folsom party’ll be winding up shortly... I’ll ‘port us back to Nick’s and we’ll ambush the little fucker.“

Jonathan pockets the chain... and reality twists again as Mark throws him back into Nick’s bedroom, where he takes up position behind the door and waits.

Half an hour passes... then the front door opens and footsteps are heard climbing the stairs. As Nick enters the bedroom, Master Jonathan steps out behind him, pulls the chain out of its covering and locks it round his neck.

“What the fu-AAARRRGGGHHH!!!”

As silver light blasts out of the chain into Nick’s head, he falls onto the floor, writhing.

“STOP!!! NO NO NO NO NO No nnnooo... pleaseeee...!”

Nick whines as the spell sucks his magic and his free will out of him, then makes him totally obedient to the man who put the chain round his neck.

The chain sinks into Nick’s skin, turning into a tattoo of itself and sealing its control over him.

Jonathan smirks down at him.

“You’re mine now, boy. Strip.”

To his horror, Nicky finds he can’t dispute the statement, nor can he disobey the order. The chain won’t let him. Whimpering, he removes his clothes, shoes and jewellery.

“There’s a nice soundproof dungeon in the basement...” Mark murmurs in the back of Jonathan’s mind.

“Good idea.”

Nicky trembles as Jonathan forces him down the stairs.

The dungeon is well equipped... a St. Andrew’s cross, sling, whips, restraints, straitjackets... and a waist-high metal cell box with a grille in its door.

“Sweet.”

“It should be. My work. Place used to be mine. Bitch took over the whole fucking house after he transformed me.”

“Figures. Twink like that couldn’t build a playroom like this.”

Jonathan starts by putting Nicky in a heavy steel collar. Steel wrist and ankle restraints, ball mitts, harness and chains follow. He empowers the restraints, and their magic turns Nicky into a horny bondage bottom.

Then, just as Nicky starts to chub up from being restrained, Jonathan adds a full Carrara chastity belt with a fitted dildo.

“OOOUUUGGGHHH...”

Nicky’s eyes roll back in his head as the dildo fills his ass and the belt stops him from cumming. His new master smirks at the look of horny frustration on his boy’s face.

“Let’s reinforce your chastity a bit.”

Master Jonathan empowers the Carrara, and its magic now prevents Nicky from cumming when soft as well... but it also enhances Nicky’s libido, horniness and sensitivity. Driving him mad with lust and simultaneously denying him any outlet for it.

Master Jonathan smirks. Sometimes you don’t need to use a whip to punish somebody.

“Finishing touches...”

Master Jonathan adds a gag and a muzzle to Nicky’s face, silencing him; attaches a chain to his collar and locks everything down.

Mark yells aloud in joy. “YES!!! You’re right where you belong, bitch. At. Fucking. Last.”

Nicky’s eyes go wide. He recognises Mark’s voice. He sees the boots... and realises who the leather daddy towering over him must be.

Voice silenced, Nicky’s eyes plead for mercy. But Master Jonathan isn’t interested. Nor are his boots.

“Welcome to your new life, boy. On your knees. NOW.”

Unable to disobey, Nicky kneels before Jonathan’s boots, forced to submit to both his old master and his new one.

Master Jonathan smirks.

“Your Folsom's all about humiliation and denial this year, boy. You're gonna hate it-but it’ll teach you your place.”

Master Jonathan opens the cell door.

“In. Now.”

A boot up Nicky's ass reinforces the order and he scrambles inside on all fours, as fast as his chains permit.

Jonathan closes and locks the cell, then leaves the dungeon, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him without another word. Leaving his slave caged in darkness and silence.

Jonathan walks into the lounge, pours himself a brandy, sits down and lights up a cigar.

“GOT the bitch. Thanks, Mark.”

“My pleasure. He deserves this-and so do you.”

Jonathan reads through the spellbook and finds the spell that turned Mark into his boots.

“Bad news. The spell reshaped your soul to fit the boots at the same time that it changed your body. There’s no trace of your old self left to go back to. So yeah, the shapeshift is permanent.”

“SHIT!!! The one time I really WANTED the bitch to be lying, he wasn’t. Bastard.”

“Yeah.”

“So what now-am I stuck this way, then?”

“Unless you want to find another body to take over, yeah.”

“What, possession?"

“Nah. Bodysnatching. You take over their body, absorb their soul and memories, then live AS them. And you can’t go back. That’s REALLY a one way street.”

“No way. Stealing someone else’s life like that doesn’t sit right with me. Makes me worse than that bitch. Even with you, I didn’t go that far-all I did was change you.”

“I understand. That means not even my old family lore could help you. Magic’s got its own set of rules, and there’s no way round them. Sorry.”

“Then it’s consolation prize time. You’re rebooted for life-cos I ain’t gonna let a nice pervy dom daddy like you get away from me. Get used to having me on you, and living as the master I’ve turned you into.”

“Hmmmm. A hot, sexy, kinky life in leather & tall boots? Sounds good enough for me. Let’s have some fun together, huh?”

“Sure. Starting tomorrow.”

Next day, in full leather & boots, Master Jonathan parades his boy Nicky through Folsom in nothing but restraints and chastity. Humiliating Nicky before his friends. Mocking and tormenting him with dirty, arousing talk while keeping him unable to cum. Denying him all sexual release.

Mark enjoys Nicky’s frustrated squirms and whimpers nearly as much as Jonathan.

As the festival ends, Master Jonathan celebrates by marking his slave.

Two tattoos.

On Nicky’s back: “SLAVE.”

On Nicky’s ass: “PROPERTY OF MASTER JONATHAN.”

Master Jonathan empowers the tattoos... and as the ink settles in, Nicky changes inside. From person to property. From boy to object.

That night, Jonathan takes Nicky back to the dungeon, locks him in the sling and breeds his hole. Hard. Then plugs him and puts him back in the cell.

The morning after the fair, Jonathan hauls Nicky out of the cell at 7 A.M. and strips off all his restraints.

“Into the shower, boy. Scrub yourself clean.”

Nicky does as ordered. Once he’s clean enough to satisfy his Master, he is dressed in jeans, work boots, and a shirt bearing the logo of The Grizzly Cobbler.

“Forget your old life, boy. From today onwards, you’re my apprentice. And you follow my orders in the shop just like you do here at home."

“Yes, Sir.”

Jonathan is also dressed in jeans and shop logo shirt, but his boots are unchanged. Mark’s not letting go. Jonathan’ll spend the rest of his life in those crotch high Wesco Big Boss Engineers. The one thing he has no choice about.

Weeks pass, then months. All three guys settle into their new roles.

Nicky spends his days servicing men’s boots in the shop. At home, he’s Master Jonathan’s slave & sex toy; Mark’s footstool; and a general domestic houseboy. His world shrinks to shop, dungeon, housework and kitchen, with no way out. He’s screwed. Tough shit. Omega.

Mark’s pissed about being stuck as Jonathan’s boots... but accepts that there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Having the bitch who did this to him under his own heels takes the sting out of his situation, though... and he’s got a Master who takes him along and involves him in all the fun. And he supports, keeps and maintains that Master all the way. Beta.

Master Jonathan settles into his new life. Sealed in his boots. Where he belongs. Powerful. Dominant. In command. Alpha.

Mark and Jonathan make a good team. United in their horny desire to use, abuse and mindfuck sexy guys wherever they find ‘em. And they can always put the boy on bootlicking duty for Mark, then throw him in the sling for Jonathan, when they don’t find a guy for the night.

A few months later, Master Jonathan greets the new year with cigar and brandy.

“Guess this is our happily-ever-after, huh Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“So what shall we get up to next?”

With a dirty laugh, they turn their minds to the future.