#jockification tf

A redux/redo of the previous Nerd to Jock transformation but instead it's now from their PoV, which I've wanted to do for some time but weren't able to due to the limitations on A.I understanding

Cigar smoke wafted over the balcony, mixed with the aroma of old brandy, as three leatherclad bikers sat back and talked. As Peter finished speaking, Angus was thoughtful. “Yeah... I agree with you. I've seen and heard some of the guys getting frustrated about it – just hadn’t realised it was that widespread. We do need to bring some fresh meat home to play with, in that case. But we’ve gotta do it carefully. This isn’t like it used to be – being magical mischievous piskies and living here instead of on Earth adds a whole new dimension to things.”

Jonathan quipped “Yeah – literally as well as figuratively!” All 3 guys laughed. Jonathan continued “We've gotta be slow and careful with new prospects to prevent them freaking out. In that you’re quite right. So induction of new prospects has to be carefully managed and controlled.”

Mark spoke up and suggested “Maybe do a recruitment drive for new prospects? Start with guys who one or more brothers have already had fun with – and even better, have transformed – and throw in a slave hunt for good measure? Most of the brothers will be far happier if they get a bitch of their own. And where a chained slave is concerned, you don’t have to be too gentle. Once the slave chain is on, problem solved.”

Peter added “Just be careful – when we change or take somebody, a reality rewrite has to be mandatory. The kind of attention that can grow when people disappear or modify is NOT something we want to trigger. This has to stay firmly under the radar, for all our sakes.”

Angus agreed. “Good ideas, guys. Let’s make plans, see who wants to go out recruiting, who wants to go hunting, and equip them with any necessary magical devices, potions etc. to fulfil their plans.” With dirty chuckles, all three Masters got down to business.

Since being turned into piskies, mastering their powers and taking up residence at the mansion, certain realignments had taken place among the 100 members of the gay bikers club. Angus remained the club’s chairman – but Jonathan & Peter had shifted roles, forsaking their place as hosts, handing the place over to the club and becoming Angus’ lieutenants and arcane/technical specialists... with Mark chipping in with useful ideas and life advice, as – despite no longer being in human form – he was older than anyone else in the club and had more life experience. This also meant that everyone else brought their problems to them – which had triggered the discussion just ended, as many guys were getting itchy feet.

After a tumultuous experience when the Great Earthquake had left the mansion as their only home, everyone had settled down. Some members often flew over the rainbow bridge for nights out, fun and fornication; others did it for mischief. But the shortage of fresh meat at home was becoming an issue.

All 3 guys headed for the drawing room and summoned the others to join them. Calling for order, Angus spoke to everyone. “Guys – we’ve just had a chat. We all think it’s time to bring some fresh beef home for fun. So... who wants to go recruiting for new prospects; who wants to go hunting for a personal slave & sex toy; and what magical devices and potions do you need and want to help with the process?”

Peter suggested “For new prospects, best to focus on guys you know. Even better if you’ve already transformed them. They’ll be more receptive than total newbies.”

Jonathan added “Also, I recommend those who want to go slave hunting come and see me first for a slave chain. More certain and less fuss, doing it that way.”

Peter advised everyone “Whether you’re bringing in new prospects or slaves, bring them to the clubhouse – not here to the mansion. We need to go slow and easy, so we get them comfortable there first, THEN bring them here en masse.”

Angus added a final word of caution. “Whatever you do, a full reality rewrite to make sure nobody Out There remembers the people you catch, recruit, transform etc. as they were beforehand is mandatory. Otherwise we will end up triggering scores of missing person cases with the cops, which is a level of official attention we simply cannot have. All of you who go out slave hunting, make sure your targets disappear from the life & memories of those who know them after you bring them here... along with all official records of their existence. When we accept and initiate a prospect, rewrite their life so the clubhouse becomes their official address.”

Smirks and dirty laughter spread throughout the room as everyone started getting ideas... the smut and horniness was palpable. Bill looked at Dan. “Does your friend Charlie still dream about being a rubber drone?” Dan responded with an evil grin. “Yeah – definitely. And the longer he gets to spend in black latex, the happier he is. Guy’d be on cloud nine if someone sealed him up for ever!” Jonathan laughed. “I’ve got just the thing for that... if you catch him, I’ll help you do the necessary.” Bill smirked. “Sounds good to me...”

Dirty laughs spread as others became enamoured of the prospect. And it wasn’t just the thought of going hunting for slaves that was running around in people’s heads. Jonathan murmured to Peter “How about we try recruiting Jason & Timothy as brothers? Micky’s already Timothy’s bitch, so he’ll come along for the ride anyway...” Peter grinned. “Nice idea – and maybe find a bitch for Jason as well!”

Russell remarked “I’m thinking of doing the same with Michael.” Stuart & Anthony had similar ideas for Thomas & Evan. As smirks spread across the room, Angus & Alan were thoughtful too... Ian and Marcus on their minds. Diego was thinking about Carlos, a young gay Spanish twink who’d been Wilhelm the neo-nazi queerbasher until he’d exacted a revenge race change and twinkification on him. Others were giving serious consideration to guys they had crushes on.

Peter smirked at Jonathan and Angus. “Looks like our idea is catching on.” Angus laughed. “No surprise there, brother. Becoming piskies didn’t alter our tastes for man meat!” Jonathan quietly mused. “Think I’d better expand the dungeon before we start... with a batch of sex slaves and boy toys arriving, we’re going to need the extra space.” Angus nodded “Aye, we will indeed. Good thinking.” Peter interrupted “I’ll see to that... you need to get busy making slave chains!” Jonathan grinned. “Thanks, brother.”

As brothers gathered round Jonathan, getting their names on the list for chains and discussing what potions, spells and artifacts they wanted to use once their slaves were caught, chained and brought to the mansion, Peter headed to the dungeon, where he used his faery powers to enlarge the space, add extra equipment and upgrade some of the stuff already there. On the way back upstairs, he ran into Jonathan in the vestibule. Hands full of lists and notes. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you there, brother. Need a hand?” Jonathan gave him a grateful look. “I’d welcome the help, thanks, brother. Got scores of slave chains to make up – if you can help with that, I can get started on the more difficult stuff for the afterparty. Some of the gadgets requested are gonna need a good bit of work and time to create.”

Both guys headed into the lab, where Peter started creating and enspelling slave chains while Jonathan got busy on potions and magical devices. The most difficult and convoluted of which resulted in a black rubber ball about 1 centimetre in diameter, accompanied by a vial of thick black liquid... but many other devices & potions were also brought into being. Jonathan stored the afterparty specials in the safe, then joined Peter in making the last batch of slave chains.

A tap on the lab door, and Peter opened it to admit Angus. “Come in, chief. We’ve just finished up – but both of us are knackered. Jonathan more so than me. Think we’ll need a good night’s rest before we start anything.” Looking at their faces, Angus agreed. “Yeah – I can see that. The others are all busy with viewing spells, identifying & tracking targets and plotting their hunting strategies, so a waiting period will work for everyone. Get yourselves upstairs and let’s have your bitches see to dinner. After that, an early night. We need to be well rested before starting our collective shenanigans.”

All 3 guys made their way upstairs to the drawing room. Peter got Baz & Nicky busy on dinner, with a few drones assisting, while he & Jonathan relaxed and Angus passed word of the planned delay round the other members. Food, drink, smokes, bed and a good long night’s sleep followed.

The next morning, everyone gathered on the courtyard in front of the mansion. Jonathan & Peter passed slave chains round to all who wanted them. Angus called everyone to order “Right. Has everyone finished laying plans?” Upon receiving affirmative responses from all, he grinned and declared “Then, at your leisure, get started on your pleasure!” Bikes were kicked into life and everyone soared out over the rainbow bridge.

Most of the guys’ plans were straightforward and uncomplicated... they wanted a slave, bitch & sex toy to serve them and be used and abused by them. Targets had been chosen and the hunt was on. This was the reason so many slave chains had been needed.

However, a few guys had other plans.

Russell walked in to the leather bar now frequented by his ex, Michael... a former twink who he’d turned into a leather daddy on their last encounter. Entering the bar, he grinned as Michael’s head snapped round in shock. “Hey... I want a word with you, man!” Russell smirked and joined him.

“I guess you’ve got some questions for me, huh?” Russell asked. Michael’s eyes narrowed. “THAT is the understatement of the century, man! You picked me up, fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk straight for 3 days, buggered off before I woke up... then over the next week I turned into THIS! Not that I mind the change – it’s a LOT more fun being a leather daddy than it was being a twink – but it’s impossible! I wake up every morning thinking it was all a dream... then I check the mirror and realise it wasn’t and isn’t.”

He continued “The REALLY freaky thing is that nobody else remembers my old twink self either – even my own memories have been substituted, with the daddy ones taking precedence and my original twink memories fading into the background – and all my records, photos and family have been adjusted to the older daddy I’ve become! Even the date on my birth certificate has changed! My old life is turning into a dream, and my dream life into reality!”

Russell laughed. “Well, it’s no dream – and yes, I did do this to you. Shot a transformation spell into you when I fucked you, and added a progressive reality rewrite spell... which is why nobody remembers your old twink self,  and your old life has vanished from record. Simple as that!” Michael’s jaw dropped. “You call that SIMPLE?! Totally rewriting somebody’s life like that?!” Russell smirked. “It IS simple – when you know how to do it.”

Michael was aghast. “Just what the fuck ARE you? And why did you do this to me?!” Russell grinned. “Last question first... you didn’t recognise me, did you?” Michael shook his head. “Let me give you a clue...” and Russell murmured in his ear, repeating a personal anecdote from their time together that nobody else knew. Michael did a double take. “RUSSELL???!!! HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT!!! REALLY???!!!” Russell smirked. “Yes – really. I’ve undergone some changes, gained some arcane gifts, and decided to have some fun with you. Gotta say, you’re much sexier as a butch leather daddy than you ever were as a twinky little drama queen!”

Michael sat back, mouth agape. “OK – now I REALLY need a drink.” Russell grinned “What’s your poison? This round’s on me – least I can do.”

The two guys sat down and talked, enjoying drinks and smokes as Russell told Michael about the club. Omitting all mention of mansion or piskies – which were best left for later. Michael was quiet and thoughtful as he digested what Russell had told him. “Wow. That’s something else, man. Sounds like a helluva lot of fun, you know?” Russell laughed. “Believe me, it IS!”

Michael added “The only thing is that I haven’t got any magical abilities – none that I know of, at least. Can you teach me? Or am I just out in the cold, period?” Russell grinned “The magical gifts are conferred upon initiation, and training will follow automatically – so no worries there. Are you interested in being a prospect, then?” Michael nodded. “Yes. Definitely. Sounds like it could be a lot of fun – and having real magic is gonna be cool and quirky.”

Russell grinned. “OK. Then I‘ll sponsor you as a prospect. The rest of the club will want to meet you, and your entry to full membership will be a joint decision. The one criterion you have to meet – and this is mandatory, no exceptions – is that you have to be a gay or bi biker. You’re gay already – and the leather kink is a definite bonus – but I need to turn you into a biker as well, if you want to go through with this. Are you SURE about it?” Michael nodded. “Yeah, I am. Go right ahead!”

Russell grinned “OK. Here you go!” and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Michael’s gear changed from kinky leather daddy to biker – armoured skin, lid, boots & gauntlets. His mentality and skillset were modified to place him within the biker mindset and make him a skilled and experienced rider. Russell chuckled. “Your garage won’t be as tight a fit now – I just replaced your truck with a nice big Harley-Davidson. And rewrote reality so everyone remembers you as a biker.” Michael laughed “You did more than that – you just made a childhood dream come true for me too. Thanks!”

Shortly afterwards, both guys left the bar, swung on to their bikes, and headed back to Michael’s apartment for a night of hot biker sex. The next day, after cleaning the cum stains off their leather, both bikers hit the road, heading towards the Columbia Mountains.

Stopping in Sacramento overnight, Michael’s face soured as they sat at a bar. “What’s up?” Russell asked. “Edward – the little prick at the bar.” Michael answered. “Got some bad history with him.” Russell nodded. “Not surprised. He’s got a bad reputation – manipulative, nasty little bitch with a penchant for outright nastiness. A few of my brothers have had run–ins with him in the past – which is how I know about him.”

Michael was silent, his face a mask of quiet, simmering fury. Seeing this, Russell smirked and asked, very quietly... “If you could forcibly make him your slave – in such a way that he would be UNABLE to disobey you – would you do it?”

Michael’s eyebrows rose. And he asked, in a whisper, “Can you actually DO that to him?! PLEASE tell me you’re not just messing with me...” Russell grinned. “Yes, I can. And no, I’m not messing. You wanna do this?” Michael’s response was definite and affirmative. “Yes. Definitely YES. I WANT THAT BASTARD UNDER MY FUCKING BOOTS, WHERE HE BELONGS!!!” Russell grinned. “So be it.” Taking a black silk pouch out of his pocket, he handed it over to Michael. “This is a slave chain. Put it round his neck, directly on his skin, with your own hands... once you fasten it, the spell will activate, dissolve his free will and make him obedient to you. I’ll make sure nobody notices anything.”

As both bikers walked over to Edward, Russell cast spells of misdirection and paralysis on him, then smirked at Michael. “OK – he can’t move a muscle, and nobody’s going to notice any of us. Do it.” With an expression of disbelieving excitement, Michael pulled the chain out of its pouch, wrapped it round Edward’s neck, and clicked it shut. As silver light flooded out of the chain into Edward’s head, Russell dropped his paralysis spell.

“EEEAAAGGGHHH!!! TAKE THIS FUCKING THING OFF ME, YOU BASTARD!!!” Edward shrieked as he fell face forward on to the bar, writhing and desperately trying to move his hands to pull at the chain. To no avail, as the chain dissolved his free will and replaced it with total obedience to the man who’d just put it on him. Michael smirked as the chain sank into Edward’s skin and turned into a tattoo, sealing his submission and his fate.

Russell grinned at Michael. “Done – he’s yours now. Order him about as you please.” With a hard voice, Master Michael snapped at Eddie “Sit up and shut up, boy. In a moment, My friend here will drop his spell that stops everyone else noticing what we’ve done here. When he does that, you will engage in a pick up with us. You will give no sign and divulge no information to anyone, explicit or implicit, that could indicate your enslavement. Once we’re ready, all 3 of us leave together.” Eddie – shocked and horrified to find the chain wouldn’t let him disobey his Master – bent his head “Yes Sir.”

Russell dropped his misdirection spell, and the pick-up began. Nobody in the bar thought anything of it as the two bikers took Eddie out to their hogs, fitted him on to Michael’s pillion, and took off for their motel. In their room, Master Michael smirked at His boy. Then gave Russell a dirty look. “Fancy spit-roasting My bitch? Think you’ve earned the right to use & abuse him... join Me!” Russell returned the look. “With pleasure, man. Let’s do this!” Spreading Eddie across the bed, Michael started on his ass and Russell on his mouth.

“UUUNNNGGGHHH!!! AAAGGGHHH!!! HHHAAARRRHHH!!!” Eddie spluttered, choked, coughed, groaned and moaned as both doms shot their loads into him, then swapped ends to repeat the process. By the time they’d finished, the bitch was stuffed, stretched and sore – and had shot his own load on both Masters’ boots. After forcing him to lick his and Russell’s boots clean, Michael placed Eddie in restraints and locked him into a sleeping bag for the night while he & Russell climbed into bed together. The following morning, Eddie was back riding pillion behind his Master as Russell led the way to the clubhouse.

Diego rolled into San Francisco, activated his Grindr, and hit up Carlos. “Oye, chico. ¿Te apetece una revancha con el papi que te sacó la hombría a golpes?” (Hey, kid. Fancy a rematch with the daddy who fucked your manhood out of you?)

On the other end of the connection, Carlos’ jaw dropped. “¡Dios mío! ¡Tú! Quiero respuestas de ti, hombre. ¡Lo que sea que me hayas hecho, no fue natural!” (My God! YOU! I want some answers from you, man. Whatever you did to me, it wasn’t natural!)

Diego smirked. The twink was in for far more than just answers. Though he didn’t know it yet.

Bringing his bike to a stop outside Carlos’ apartment building, Diego kicked the stand down and swung out of the saddle. Then hit the bell for Carlos’ pad and took the elevator upstairs. The young twink greeted him at the door. “Oye, hombre. Pasa.” (Hey, man. Come in.)

As Carlos led the way inside, Diego took a black silk pouch out of his pocket, removed the slave chain from it, and clasped it shut round Carlos’ neck. With a shriek, the twink fell to the floor, crying out as silver light flooded out of the chain and into his head. A few moments later, the chain now transformed into a tattoo, Carlos obediently kissed his Master’s boots and knelt on the floor before Him.

Diego smirked. “Ahora vas a obtener tus respuestas. Supongo que no me reconociste la última vez, ¿verdad?” (NOW you’re gonna get your answers. I guess you didn’t recognise me the last time – correct?)

Carlos shook his head, confused. Diego smirked. “¡Deberías! ¡Me atacaste por ser gay durante toda mi juventud!” (You should – you queerbashed me all through my youth!).

Carlos stared in confusion... then paled. “D-DIEGO???!!!” “¡¡¡Oh, mierda!!!” (Oh SHIT!!!).

White and trembling, Carlos stared at his Master’s smirking face. Then listened, in growing terror, as Diego told him about the club and His power. Carlos swallowed. “Ahora estoy en un buen lío, señor. ¿Verdad?” (I'm in the shit now, Sir. Aren't I?).

Diego gave a satisfied nod. “Sí, muchacho. Pero no será tan malo como temes. Mi sed de venganza quedó satisfecha la noche que te eché a patadas, a ese neonazi homófobo. Despojarte de la masculinidad y la dureza que tanto apreciabas y convertirte en el tipo de chico gay que despreciabas fue suficiente venganza. Estoy satisfecho con eso y no voy a ir a darte una paliza para desahogar mi ira, etc.” (You are indeed, boy. But it won't be as bad as you fear. My thirst for revenge was satisfied the night I fucked your old queerbashing neo-nazi self out of existence. Stripping you of the butch manliness and toughness you treasured and turning you into the kind of gay boy you looked down on and despised was vengeance enough. I’m satisfied on that score, and won’t go beating the shit out of you to vent anger etc.)

Carlos sagged in relief. Diego smirked as he continued “De ahora en adelante, eres mi esclavo y mi juguete sexual. Prepárate para ser montado duro, largo y a menudo. Así...” (From now on, you’re My slave and My sex toy. Expect to be ridden hard, long, and often. Like this...)

Diego made Carlos lie over the side of the bed and fucked him, long, hard and repeatedly. Afterwards, Diego tied Carlos up to his bedpost before getting a good night’s sleep. The following morning, Carlos was riding pillion behind Diego on their way to the clubhouse. Reduced even further, from twink to slave & sex toy. Just as Diego wanted.

Stuart & Anthony rode into Sacramento, looking for Thomas and Evan, who they knew were planning a ride through the city. “There they are!” Anthony spoke in the back of Stuart’s mind, as their targets roared past. “Yeah... and they ride those Harleys like they’re part of them. We did well. Cool!” Stuart replied the same way, grinning, as they swung on to their machines and gave chase. It didn’t take long for them to catch up with Thomas & Evan... who did a double take at the sight of Stuart & Anthony roaring past. Then looked at each other, nodded in agreement and accelerated in pursuit.

Stuart chuckled in the back of Anthony’s head. “They’ve taken the bait!” Anthony grinned “Yeah – indeed they have. Let’s pull in at the next service station and hook them!” With a grin, they did so. Making sure that their targets saw them pulling in.

As Stuart & Anthony kicked their stands down and swung off their bikes, Thomas & Evan swung in beside them and lifted their lids. Stuart grinned. “Hey guys – good to see you again. Enjoying your new biker daddy lives?” Thomas nodded “Yeah – you bet we are!” Evan added “Though we do have a few questions for you about it...” Anthony laughed “THAT is no surprise!” Stuart smirked “Indeed not. Join us for a coffee and we’ll give you the details – OK?” Thomas & Evan grinned “Sure!”

Sitting down with coffee, Stuart got straight down to business. “In a nutshell... yes, we DID do this to you both. Guilty as charged!” He chuckled as Anthony added “We fucked a change spell into you both during that foursome we had... then put a remote viewing spell in place and watched your transformations. Good fun!”

Thomas & Evan were aghast. “You cheeky buggers!” Evan exclaimed. Thomas laughed and asked “So, did you enjoy the show?” Stuart & Anthony smirked “Yeah – you just BET we did!” Evan rolled his eyes. Thomas grinned. “Everything smoothed out nicely once the inner changes hit, so no worries – we’re fine. Now, guys... another question. Just WHAT the fuck are you both?!”

Stuart & Anthony told their story. Evan was fascinated. “Wow – a club of magical bikers! That sounds SO cool!” Thomas added “Sounds like a lot of fun, quite frankly. Pity we can’t do magic ourselves, or we’d ask to join.” Anthony grinned “Would you be surprised if I told you that the magical abilities come as part of the membership?” Thomas’s and Evan’s jaws dropped. “REALLY?!” Stuart nodded “Yes – really. Granted on initiation. You interested?” Thomas and Evan were. Anthony spoke in the back of Stuart’s head. “HOOKED!” Stuart laughed. “Well, guys – the clubhouse is up in the Columbia Mountains... we’ll sponsor you as prospects. Come along and meet the crew!”

Grinning, all 4 guys finished their coffee, got back on their machines and roared out onto the highway, Stuart and Anthony leading the way to the clubhouse.

Back in Los Angeles, Alan & Angus split up on their manhunts.

Angus headed for the local swimming pool, where he knew Ian was practicing for his next swim meet. The lithe, fit, sexy swimmer finished his practice, showered, dressed and left the building. As he stepped outside, Angus cast a misdirection spell, stepped in behind him, pulled a slave chain out of its pouch and fastened it round his neck.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” Ian screamed as he staggered and fell to the ground, writhing as silver light filled his head, dissolved his free will and replaced it with total obedience to the biker standing over him. Angus chuckled. “Gotcha, boy. You’re all mine now. On your knees!”

Appalled to find that the chain wouldn’t let him disobey, resist or argue, Ian knelt before his Master, as ordered, and kissed His boots in submission. Angus smirked. “Welcome to your new life, boy. Get up.” Ian did so; Angus dropped His misdirection spell and, with His boy riding pillion, roared off to the diner where he and Alan had agreed to rendezvous.

Alan, meanwhile, had found Marcus. Not in his old haunts – those were places for big, tough men, and Marcus wasn’t one any more – but online, looking for such men to fuck the little twink he’d become. With a smutty leer, Alan messaged him. And was at his apartment shortly afterwards. Finding the little guy waiting on the bed, ass in the air, hole sloppy from the last top who’d shagged him an hour ago, he instantly locked the chain round his neck.

“AAAIIIEEE!!!” Marcus screamed as the light filled his head and turned him into Alan’s slave. Alan spoke. “I’m not into sloppy holes, boy. Cancel any other hook ups on your list and clean yourself up!” Shocked to find he couldn’t disobey, Marcus got up, cancelled his other Grindr fucks, showered, gave himself a douche and got dressed.

After closing down the apartment, Alan put His bitch on His pillion and headed for the diner to rendezvous with Angus.

Over food, Angus grinned at Alan. “Shall we do the family thing, share our boys and ourselves with each other?” Alan laughed “Sounds fucking PERFECT... husband!” as he flipped his wrist and rewrote reality. “You cheeky fucker – I like your style!” Angus laughed as he kissed his husband, in love. After eating, the new biker couple put their slaves back on their pillions and returned to the clubhouse.

Further north, Bill and Dan pulled in to Portland, Oregon. By unspoken agreement, they stayed as far away from Southern California as possible now. Arriving at the gay kink/fetish night they’d picked, they found their quarry. Charlie was sitting back quietly in the corner of the bar. Wearing a black rubber vest, shorts, harness and army surplus boots.

Bill and Dan slid in beside him. “Hey, Chas. How’s life?” Recognising them both, Charlie grinned. “Doing OK. Still not found the Master of my dreams, you know?” Dan answered “Yeah – nobody strong enough to dominate you and turn you into the rubber drone you want to be?”

Charlie sighed. “No – still watching, but hope isn’t transforming into reality. My rubber drone future just HAS NOT MANIFESTED. And IT. IS. DOWNRIGHT. FUCKING. FRUSTRATING!!!”

Bill nodded, sympathetically. “Wanna let us have a go? Give us a chance to enslave you, turn you into our bitch and seal you up in rubber forever?”

Charlie stared at him. “Are you fucking SERIOUS?! Can you guys ACTUALLY do that?!” Dan smirked. “You just BET we can! You up for it?”

Charlie’s assent was immediate. “DEFINITELY. If you can turn me into your obedient bitch, I’m yours. See if you can do it. Go on – I dare you.”

With a grin, Bill cast a misdirection spell to prevent anybody noticing what they were going to do, and Dan cast a paralysis spell on Charlie. Bill and Dan took out a black silk pouch and opened it. “Let’s see how this fits!” Bill remarked, as they each took one end of the chain and fastened it round Charlie’s neck. Then, both sat back and watched, as Dan dropped his paralysis spell and the chain spell engaged.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK???!!!” Charlie yelled, grabbing the table as silver light flooded out of the chain and into his head. Then, as his free will was dissolved and replaced with complete obedience to the two men who’d put the chain on him, he quietly sat back, eyes wide in amazement, and took a deep breath... as the chain sank into his skin and sealed him into submission.

Quietly, Charlie spoke... his face alight with incredulous, joyful acceptance of his enslavement. “You win the bet, Sirs. I’m yours.” Charlie rose from his seat, kissed his Masters’ boots, and took his proper place on the floor. Dan put their boy in biker gear, Bill dropped his misdirection spell... and with Charlie riding pillion behind Dan, they roared off, heading for the clubhouse.

In San Francisco, Peter & Jonathan started with a gym visit. “Yo, brother.” Jonathan greeted Timothy, who grinned at the sight of them. “Yo, fam. Been missing your magic shit. You here to help out?”

Jonathan grinned. “In a way, yeah – our club’s looking for new prospects. You wanna be a magical master like us?” Timothy’s jaw dropped. “Are you SERIOUS, guys? Cos I’ve been wanting that for a while now. You both rock it, and I wanna be that way too!”

Jonathan laughed. “In that case...” he waved his hands and turned Timothy into a biker. And his car into a Harley. Peter grinned. “Now, we’ve another guy to pick up...”

With Micky riding pillion, all 3 bikers rode to Peter & Jonathan’s favourite leather bar. Jonathan and Peter spotted Jason – now a Black Master and all round leatherclad hunk – and walked over. “Yo, brother. How’s yourself?” Peter asked.

Jason grinned. “Loving the life you gave me, fam. Thanks! But gotta ask you a few questions – like, HOW the fuck did you do this to me?!”

Jonathan laughed. “Bottom line, brother – we put a transformation spell into you when we spit-roasted you in your dungeon. And then had a viewing spell on you afterwards to watch you change.” Looking at Jason’s stunned face, Peter smirked. “You took the changes – inside and out – very well, actually. We were impressed!”

Jason swallowed. “Guys – that’s plain weird. I’d guessed at some kind of nanotechnology, not magic. Just what the fuck ARE you both?” Jonathan smiled, reassuringly. “It’s like this...”

Jason’s eyes got wider and wider as they told their story. “Wait a minute – you’re part of a CLUB of guys like you?! That’s actually a bit scary.” With a nervous expression on his face, he quietly added “And the scariest bit is that I want to be like you and be part of that club...”

Peter grinned. “Really?” Jason nodded. “Yes. REALLY. It sounds like a LOT of hot, kinky, quirky fun. I’d like being part of that, you know?” Jonathan murmured “Well, it’s possible... you just have to be a gay or bi biker, and be sponsored by a member as a prospect. The magical gifts are conferred upon initiation.” Peter confirmed it. “True – and we’ll be quite happy to do the honours. If you’re ready to take the leap?”

“YES!” trembling with nervous excitement, Jason agreed. Peter smirked, cast a misdirection spell, then turned Jason’s leather into a full biker outfit and his truck, sitting outside, into a Harley.

Jonathan laughed. “Let’s go back to your place... then tomorrow, we’ll take you to meet the others!” Swinging off their machines in Jason’s garage, all 4 bikers, and Timothy’s bitch, settled down for a night of fun.

Jason, browsing Grindr, muttered “There’s that little fucker!” Jonathan’s eyebrows rose. “Bitch trouble, brother?” Jason confirmed it. “Frank. He was my bitch, then fucked off after you turned me black. Guy’s not into dark meat. Ruined a lot of fun.”

Jonathan was sympathetic. “You wanna have him for your own again – and this time make him UNABLE to leave or disobey you?” Jason stared at him. “Brother... please tell me you’re joking.” Jonathan shook his head. “No, I’m not. Are you up for doing it?” Jason’s eyes widened. “WHOA!!! Guys... OK, you’ve got me hooked. How do we do this?” Jonathan smirked. “It goes like this...”

Checking up on Frank, Peter found him heading home from a shag. Once he got home, Jonathan & Peter ‘ported in with Jason. Casting a paralysis spell on the shocked twink, Peter smirked. “OK, Jason – you know what to do...” and handed Jason a black silk pouch. Jason grinned. “Thanks, man.” Frank gasped as Jason pulled the slave chain out of its pouch and fastened it round his neck. Peter dropped his paralysis spell... and Frank shrieked “NO!!! STOP THIS!!! PLEASE!!! I . DO. NOT. WANT. TO. BE. A. BLACK. MASTER’S. BITCH!!!” as silver light flooded his head and turned him into precisely that.

Jason smirked. “Tough shit, boy – that’s what you are, now. Like it or not. On your knees!” Frank swallowed in terror as the chain, now just a tattoo, forced him to obey Master Jason. Peter & Jonathan smirked as Frank knelt & kissed his Master’s boots, then they closed down the apartment and ‘ported everyone back to Jason’s place. The following morning, Frank was riding pillion behind Jason as they headed for the clubhouse.

In the Columbia Mountains, everyone gathered. Most of the brothers had harvested slaves for themselves, and the clubhouse was full. No shortage of help or holes.

As the evening drew in, the five new prospects talked, thoughtfully and earnestly, with their sponsors and other members. Timothy grinned. “Sounds perfect, guys.” Jason agreed. “Gonna be a LOT of fun!”

Angus was delighted at the haul. “Guys – this worked out really well. Everyone who wanted a bitch of their own now has one – and we’ve got several VERY good prospects, too. This is just fucking BRILLIANT!” Peter chuckled, dirtily. “And will doubtless lead to some brilliant FUCKING!” Jonathan smirked. “I hope so – that was the whole idea!”

Jonathan spoke. “OK – slaves are caught and chained; prospects are accepted. Cleanup time.” He undertook reality rewrites, wiping all memory and official records of every new slave and making the clubhouse the official address of every prospect. “OK, chief. All done!”

Angus grinned. “Right. We’ve done the necessary prep work - now let’s get everyone to the mansion.”  Calling all the sponsors and prospects together, he spoke. “Guys – we need to head to our place. Sponsors are in charge of lifting their prospects. Let’s get on with it.”

As everyone climbed on to their machines, new slaves riding pillion, all the prospects were gathered together. Peter spoke to them “Now, guys –  get on your bikes and group yourselves together. Our headquarters is a bit special, so some magical work will be necessary to get you there. That’s our job – you just ride, stay on your bikes, and don’t panic at anything we do.”

Peter continued “All sponsors – we station ourselves round the outer edge of the prospects’ group, and lift all the prospects, as a team, when the rest of the club lift themselves and their bitches. OK?” Unanimous assent followed.

Riding further up into the hills, Angus spoke in the back of all the members’ heads. “OK – time to lift.” Every prospect was stunned as their sponsors wrapped them and their bikes in a net of green fire. All the members wrapped themselves and their own bikes in the same green fire. Then, every bike and rider lifted from the road and flew out of the world, over the rainbow bridge, to land on the courtyard of the mansion.

Landing on the great flagstone courtyard before the mansion, all new slaves and prospects were stunned. Angus explained the place to them. “So that’s it. This is our home – and yours. You prospects wouldn’t’ve been lifted here if you hadn’t passed muster – and as you slaves are your Masters’ property, Their desires are sufficient for your transfer. From now on, you have no say in where you end up.”

Michael, Thomas, Evan, Timothy & Jason were promptly taken to the lab by their sponsors, while the new slaves were stripped of all their clothing, made smooth and hairless, and joined Nicky & Baz in the kitchen. Which had been substantially enlarged to accommodate the new arrivals.

Downstairs, Jonathan gave a command. “All prospects – line up side by side facing the mirror.” All 5 guys did so. Jonathan, Peter, Angus, Alan, Russell, Stuart & Anthony joined forces and infused them all with green fire, beginning their changes.

The first change was their bodies, which were rejuvenated to the age of 30 and placed in perfect health and fitness. After that, things got weird. The magic turned inwards and began converting their bodies into pure magic.

It takes a lot of mass to generate magic. By the time the conversion was over, each man had shrunk to a height of 1” tall. In its final twist, the magic dematerialised them, changed them into immortal piskies – reshaping their inner being and soul to match – and locked them down. Jonathan, Peter, Angus, Alan, Russell, Stuart & Anthony flipped their bodies into piskey form and joined their stunned new brothers in front of the mirror.

“Is everyone OK?” Angus asked. Shaky voices answered him. In the affirmative. Jason was the first to speak. “Brothers – just what the FUCK did you do to us?!” Jonathan grinned. “We initiated you into the club as full members. All of us are piskies, so it’s mandatory that new members also become piskies.”

Peter added “You’re all double locked – the first lock is a permanent one on your inner nature. Regardless of what physical form you take, you’re piskies on the inside, where it counts, and you’ll never be anything else. The second lock is on your shapeshifting abilities, and it’s temporary. It’ll release when being a piskey has become totally natural to you.”

Evan gaped. “WOW. When you guys told us about the magic... I didn’t realise it would involve THIS.” Thomas laughed. “Hon – every story involving magic has twists. Don’t get so shocked!” Peter laughed. “True! Magic can get very serious... you need the twists to add some fun!”

As their Masters busied themselves elsewhere, Baz & Nicky welcomed the new slaves to the kitchen and settled down with glasses of water for a chat. Eddie, Carlos, Marcus – and quite a few other new boy toys – were still adjusting to their enslavement, so a lot of helpful discussion and explanation ensued.

Charlie was thoughtful. “So this is it, huh?” Nicky confirmed it. “Yes. We’re boy toys now, and worrying about life is our Masters’ bailiwick. And given Master Bill and Master Dan’s promise to you – and the extra work they asked my Master to do for it – you’re going to be even more of a toy than we are. Enjoy being naked, having a face and being able to talk while you can – you may not have those freedoms much longer.” Charlie grinned – albeit nervously – in anticipation. “I’m looking forward to the experience... while also being terrified of it. Magic brings a whole new dimension to fantasies, and I didn’t expect it.”

A deep laugh rumbled from the doorway as Bill, Dan & Jonathan entered. Bill spoke. “True! Boy – follow Us to the lab. Time to get you rubbered up.” Charlie bent his head. “Yes, Sir.” Without another word, he followed his Masters downstairs.

In the lab, Dan ordered Charlie to stand in front of the mirror. Jonathan handed him the small rubber ball and vial of black liquid. “Swallow this. And drink this to wash it down. Then watch your reflection... as you disappear into objecthood.” Obediently, Charlie swallowed the rubber ball, then opened the vial and chugged its contents. In his gullet, ball and liquid combined into a slippery black mass and slithered, rapidly, down his oesophagus and into his stomach.

Upon entering his stomach, the mass exploded, filling it and developing into a powerful magical device, which then infused his entire body with a net of green fire. Next, both entry and exit openings to his stomach were pushed open as the rubber expanded, filled his intestines, his gullet, then his lungs, mouth and nose. It popped out of his asshole and ran forward, over his perineum, wrapping his cock and balls... then ran down into his urethra, filling his bladder.

Jonathan smirked at Charlie’s shocked, confused and horny expression and explained. “The thing in your stomach, boy, is your control unit. It keeps your body preserved in perfect health and fitness via the magic it filled you with. The rubber it’s filled your internal passages and spaces with is used to serve all your bodily needs – the rubber inside your lungs is supplying dissolved air straight into your bloodstream and extracting & eliminating carbon dioxide and so on from it, so you don’t need to breathe in or out any more. The rubber filling up your intestines is supplying all the water, vitamins, minerals, nutrients, proteins, carbohydrates, electrolytes etc. that your body needs, and circumvents any need to eat, drink or shit. The rubber inside your cock eliminates piss and cum. Don’t worry about your voice – you don’t need it any more. You’ve been made independent of your environment – so now we seal you away from it.” The rubber coating Charlie’s genitals began to expand, covering his body in a tight black second skin. Jonathan smirked again. “Your control unit also prevents sweating, and maintains your body temperature.”

Getting horny as he was inexorably coated in black latex, Charlie realised that his rubber was designed for long term wear – and the truth of Nicky’s words became clear. As his feet lifted from the floor for the rubber to encase them, the smooth shiny blackness rippled over his arms and hands, then went on to cover his head. Sealing him, entirely, in rubber.

Jonathan spoke. “Boy – this is only your first layer. Next, your catsuit.” With a ripple, a smooth black catsuit manifested itself and flowed over Charlie’s body. Followed by a hood, gloves and socks. Jonathan grinned. “Now, we join the pieces!” Charlie watched in shock as catsuit, hood, gloves and socks merged into one, sealing him into a second layer of black latex.

“Next, your Miner’s Mask.” A contoured black latex hood appeared and fitted itself over Charlie’s head... then expanded, flowing down over the rest of his body to become a complete suit, hugging him tight over his first two layers. He rose, briefly, into the air as his feet were sealed in. His cock rigid, engorged and his balls fit to burst. Third layer applied.

“Finally, the last layer. This one’s a bit different...” and Jonathan handed Charlie a pair of thigh waders. Thick black rubber, of course. “Put them on.” Charlie did so. Next, a pair of heavy black rubber electrical gauntlets. Finally, Jonathan added a gasmask, with a featureless flat screen faceplate, fitting it on Charlie’s head and locking it in place.

Jonathan smirked. “Now we join everything up.” And Charlie got almost unbearably horny as rubber expanded down from his gasmask, up from his waders and gauntlets, meeting and merging into one. Forming a final layer of much heavier rubber, which enclosed everything, left his aching cock inaccessible, then sealed skintight and thickened up, smoothing out all his physical definition and leaving him featureless and unidentifiable. Arms, legs and torso just smooth flat rubber. Face just a blank, flat featureless plate. Mute, voiceless and locked in silence.

It was too much for him to hold out against. Soundlessly, in total horny heaven at the realisation of his deepest fantasies, Charlie shot his load... triggering the coup de grace, as his identity vanished with his cumshot and he became a true rubber object. Jonathan grinned at Bill and Dan. “Done, brothers. Your drone is finished... take it to the dungeon.” Bill and Dan did so.

In the dungeon, Bill ordered the drone to lie down on an inflatable mattress, inside a vac bed. Once the air had been sucked out, sealing it into immobility, they raised the vac bed into a vertical position and fixed it to the wall. Looking at the display, Dan laughed. “It’s a rather fitting addition to the decor down here, isn’t it?” Bill agreed,  smirking. Without another word, both Masters closed and locked the dungeon, leaving their new rubber object sealed in horny, helpless isolation.

Peter & Jonathan settled down to teaching their 5 new brothers to use their magic. In time, each guy’s shapeshifting lock opened as they settled down into their new selves and lives. All the while, the mansion was filled with house parties, orgies and fun. Slaves and sloppy holes going together like dildos and condoms.

Michael, Thomas, Evan, Timothy & Jason flipped their bodies into human form; Michael, Timothy & Jason collected their slaves; then all 5 new brothers joined in the fun.

Much later, after the fun was over and everyone’s balls were spent, all 105 piskies resumed their natural forms and gathered on the balcony railing for cigars and brandy. Talk was lively, smutty, sardonic and humourous.

“Aaahhh...” Michael sighed as he stretched out beside Russell, who laughed. “I know the feeling! Your bitch is almost TOO good at taking it. That was the best spit–roast I’ve ever been involved in.” Michael grinned. “Don’t I know it!” Russell grinned back. “Makes the effort of catching him worthwhile, you know?” Both laughed.

Angus & Alan chuckled, arms around each other, as they reviewed their bitches’ performance. “Bloody good rides, both of them!” Alan smirked. Angus had a satisfied smirk of his own too. “Yeah – they are. Shows we have good taste in boy toys, doesn’t it?!” Both laughed, clinked their glasses and lit fresh cigars.

Thomas & Evan were relaxed, thoughtful and appreciative. “Thanks for letting us share your bitches, guys.” Angus & Alan grinned, dirtily. “It’s been a pleasure. Some nice horny spit–roasts did us, and them, a world of good.”

Timothy and Jason were relaxed, chilling. “Our bitches shaped up well, huh, brother? Jason asked. “Yeah – they both did. Nice tight holes are always a pleasure!” Timothy laughed. Both well pleased with their sport.

As the chatter went on, a new desire for further mischief manifested. Angus was thoughtful. “Yeah, go ahead – but two conditions. First, you don’t reveal yourself to your targets. Second, full reality rewrites are mandatory.” In complete agreement, those Masters interested began to make plans. Jonathan & Peter gave help, support and advice on the necessary magical malarkey, as needed. Once those involved were ready, they dispersed to their targets.

In a Los Angeles apartment, Paul was home from practice... unwashed, stinking of his own sweat & musk. Stripped naked in front of the mirror, he ran a hand over his abs and stroked his cock. The large, thick, meaty member hung between his legs like an offensive weapon.

He smirked at Jackson, the little nerd he shared the place with. The small, inoffensive guy who earned ten times as much as Paul did, due to his PhD and high end office job. The small guy who, at 5’2”, was diminutive against the towering, musclebound 6’8” jock.

Paul taunted Jackson. “See this, you little fag? THIS is how a real man looks. Not a pathetic little pipsqueak like you. Gotta find a sexy cheerleader to screw... this firehose of mine needs a proper workout!” Jackson swallowed, grateful that his baggy pants hid the way his 3” cock was chubbing up in response to the sexy jock towering over him.

Paul tolerated Jackson because he paid the bills, the rent, and allowed him to live in a style he could never have afforded on his sports scholarship. Jackson tolerated Paul because he had a major crush on the sexy, sweaty, stinky, obnoxious straight jock.

Both guys were looking at their reflections in the mirror when it happened.

“OOOUUUGGGHHH!!!”

Nerd and jock staggered as SOMETHING exploded inside their guts. Then stared in shock as their bodies rippled and began changing.

“NNNOOO!!!” Paul screamed in protest as his big, beautiful, sexy body started to deflate and implode.

His muscles were the first thing to go. He stared in horror as his biceps and triceps vanished, his arms lost their size and turned into skinny twigs, his shoulders narrowed and retreated inwards, his traps and delts smoothed out, flattened and sank back into his body. His pecs flattened out, his abs smoothed over, his legs reduced from tree trunks of muscle to smooth, skinny twigs.

Next to go was his size. The ceiling got further away, and the room bigger, as he shrank from 6’8” to 5’0” – then his maturity followed as his body rolled back to his early twenties, lost its strong face for softer, rounder features, and his whole appearance became softer and more yielding. The last straw was the awful feeling between his legs... as his cock went from a 9” beer can thick rod to a 2” twiglike appendage and his balls imploded, while his nice firm ass turned into a bubble butt.

The final coup de grace happened on the inside, as his IQ went sky high, his dominant cocky personality folded in on itself and his sexual orientation flipped.

Paul was left staring at the mirror in horror. The cocky, sexy, musclebound straight jock was gone. Looking back at him was a brainy little gay nerd. Submissive, needy and desperate to please.

“NO!!! THITH CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!! THITH ITHN’T ME!!!”... but the body, the mindset, and the high pitched lisping voice said otherwise.

Jackson’s experience was very different.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” He roared and writhed, his muscles cramping as they expanded. His skinny legs beefed up, turning into pillars of solid muscle. His torso bulked out, abs and pecs growing out of nowhere. His bubble butt tightened up into a fit ass. His soft face squared off, and his body hardened up.

Next was his size.

“HHHAAARRRGGGHHH!!!”

Jackson yelled as his body grew, vertebrae popping and growing as he became taller and wider. Lats, traps and delts exploded out of nowhere. Skinny arms became bloated with muscle as biceps and triceps manifested. His shoulders blew up into cannonballs. The ceiling got closer as his now densely packed 5’2” became a shocking 6’10”. Then a huge rush shot between his legs as his cock and balls grew, leaving a thick 11” cock and massive bull balls hanging where his tiny junk had been.

Maturity was added, as he rolled forwards to his mid thirties.

As with Paul, the final change was internal. Jackson blinked... then grinned, as his submissive personality blew up and his sexual orientation was enhanced.

”PHWOAR!!!”

Jackson grinned at the mirror, and the dominant, assertive, muscular, sexy gay top looking back at him. Then leered at the little twink standing beside him. A very needy little bottom. Man become boy. Boy become man. Both of them getting horny for each other.

Jackson smirked. “What are you waiting for, bitch? I know you want this...” stroking his shaft. Helplessly, Paul knelt before him and took his cock in his mouth.

Jackson took pleasure in choking the little guy, ramming his huge cock down Paul’s tight little throat as Paul gasped and spluttered. With a hand on the back of his head to stop him pulling away.

Nice and hard, Jackson pulled out of Paul’s mouth without cumming... then forced Paul into doggy position and rammed his cock into Paul’s tight ass, jackhammering him mercilessly.

“HHHAAARRRHHH!!!”

Jackson roared as he came inside Paul’s ass. Simultaneously, Paul shrieked as he shot his own tiny load. Pulling out, Jackson smirked at Paul. “Well, Well, Well. I don’t know how or why this happened... but even if I could change it, I wouldn’t. Enjoy your new life as My bitch.” Paul, trembling with the intensity of the sexual experience, shakily replied “Yeth, Thir.”

Bill & Dan, in piskey form, invisible and impalpable, sat on top of the mirror and smirked in glee. Dan spoke in Bill’s mind. “Job done – time for a reality rewrite.” Bill agreed... and the two piskies altered their subjects’ lives, records and everyone’s memories of them. Paul became an orphaned college student, doing quantum theory and physics. Jackson kept his brains, his money and his job... and became Paul’s uncle and only surviving relative – who was also his musclebound, dominant, sexy Master.

Locking both guys into their new lives and roles, forcing Paul into obedience and Jackson into command, Bill & Dan ‘ported back to the mansion. Laughing in sardonic, mischievous glee as they did so.

Sweaty, his blood pumping, his lycra soaked and sticking to his skin, Magnus pushed on the pedals of his racing cycle as he forced his way up the hill. Half a mile behind him, the peloton, comprising the bulk of his competitors, was pushing, desperately, to try and catch up.

Grinning, Magnus topped the hill and shot down the other side, losing sight of his pursuers. That was the cue for the two piskies who, invisible and impalpable, were sitting on his handlebars. Stuart grinned and spoke in the back of Anthony’s mind. “You change his wheels – I’ll change him.” Both set to work.

Magnus gasped as his bicycle started changing underneath him. Wheels became thicker and heavier. Frames became stronger and wider, single bars splitting into doubles in many places. Pedals turned into footboards. Chain and gears became transmission and drive. A V-twin engine materialised between the wheels. Battery, oil and gas tanks manifested behind and above the engine. The saddle grew wider, deeper and longer. Front and rear fenders sprang into being. Handlebars reshaped themselves and thickened. Suspension was added, front and rear. Headlights, tail lights and horn appeared. Wires ran hither and yon, and speedometer and gear shifter appeared above and alongside the tanks. The pump of blood and muscles was replaced by the vibrating roar of the engine.

Then his body began changing, as if the bike was tailoring its rider to fit itself. His lean frame bulked out with muscle and he grew from 5’6” to 6’4”. Body hair, beard and moustache all manifested, matched by his hair. All thick, black and aggressive. His bulge grew, stretching his lycra obscenely. Tattoos appeared, running over his skin, marking territory. Clothes followed suit, lycra becoming leather and extending to cover his full body, in a biker’s skin. Boots and gauntlets wrapping feet, legs, hands and arms. Cycling helmet turning into a biker’s lid.

Next, his cycling experience and knowledge dissolved and was replaced with the skills and knowledge of an old school biker who lived in the saddle.

The finishing touches were applied, changing his identity and inner nature. Magnus the champion cyclist, on his racing cycle, was gone. In his place, Mack the biker roared down the road on his Harley, heading for his clubhouse after a good run over the hills. Dominant, assertive, bisexual and a mountain of a man whom others made way for.

Stuart chuckled, pleased with their work. He and Anthony initiated a reality rewrite, wiping Magnus from memory and record, and adding Mack, biker, mechanic, and repair shop owner, in his place.

Mack rolled into the clubhouse, killed his engine, kicked down his stand, swung off his bike, grabbed a beer and lit a cigar. He was sitting down outside, chilling, when the peloton shot past. Scornfully muttering “Pussies. Pushbikes are kid stuff. REAL men ride hogs!” he spat in the dirt as his former friends raced past, and took another puff on his cigar.

With satisfied smirks, Stuart & Anthony ‘ported home to the mansion.

Night was rolling over the city, and the fighters’ cage was empty. A group of bruised, sore, tired MMA fighters staggered into the showers, soaked aching muscles in hot water, then dried off, got dressed and headed home.

Chris, the oldest and roughest of them, took longer in the shower and emerged to find the others leaving. Bidding them goodnight, he dried off and turned towards his locker.

That was the moment that Alan and Angus had been waiting for.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK???!!!”

Chris gasped as his muscles were suddenly coated in a layer of fat, and body hair sprouted everywhere from the gaps between his toes to the back of his neck. Hair sprouted from his shaven scalp, and a full beard and moustache covered his face.

Inside, his MMA skills and penchant for violent sports vanished, along with his heterosexual conservative worldview and political preferences. A pacifist, liberal, socialist, homosexual mindset took their place.

“NO. FUCKING. WAY. I DON’T WANT TO BE QUEER! I DON’T WANT TO BE A BLEEDING LIBERAL!” Chris spat in terrified fury. But Alan didn’t give him a choice. The changes settled deeper, irreversible and irresistible. Gulping, he stared at himself in the mirror... and realised that, will he or nil he, Chris the MMA cage fighter was gone. Christopher, the pacifist left wing gay muscle bear, stood in his place.

Helplessly, he opened his locker and got dressed, finding his clothes altered to briefs, lumberjack shirt, jeans and boots. Angus performed a reality rewrite. Chris was forgotten. Christopher was here to stay.

Bewildered and terrified, the new bear slipped out of the gym and headed for The Gentle Paw, a gay bear bar a few blocks away. Confused, and desperately hoping drink and good company would ground him in his new life.

Watching their quarry, Alan chuckled. Nastily. “Shall we help him find some company for the night, hon?” Angus grinned. “Sure – it’ll make his changes stronger. And lock him into his new persona.” A spell was cast... and both piskies perched on the bar beside Christopher, unseen and unheard.

At the bar, Christopher sat back with a beer. “Hey, stud – mind if I join you?” A young cub came up to him, smiling. “Sure.” Christopher rumbled... “I’m Jim. This your first time here?” the cub asked. Christopher nodded and seized on the best excuse “Only just coming out. Late bloomer, old generation shit, you know?” Jim’s eyes widened. “Yeah – I get it. Big step to take, and a huge life change. Would you like some company on your journey?” Christopher smiled gently. “Yes, please – that’d be great.”

Angus chuckled. “Clever answer...” Alan agreed. “Let’s make it the real one!” and tweaked their reality rewrite to fit.

The bear & cub sat down together and started talking. As the night went on, a bond formed... and Christopher ended up in bed with Jim. A night of sweaty, cuddly bear sex followed. The next morning, they both knew they’d bonded. Breakfast, kisses and swapping phone numbers heralded the start of a long term relationship that both would come to treasure, deeply.

Angus & Alan ‘ported home to the mansion, content with the night’s work.

Out on the highway, Gary was hitchhiking, on his way across country to a new job in Miami. A big rig ground to a halt beside him and the cab door opened. “Hop in.” A gruff, deep voice rumbled. Gary climbed in, to find a huge beary trucker in the driving seat. “I’m George. Shut the door and strap yourself in.” Gary did so. As George powered his rig into action, neither guy was aware of the four piskies sitting, immaterial, invisible and impalpable, on the dashboard.

Steve grinned and spoke in the back of Jack’s, Thomas’s and Evan’s minds. “Which one do you fancy doing over?” Jack laughed. “I wanna do the hitchhiker!” Thomas & Evan were happy to do the trucker. Thomas suggested “Let’s get them to shag each other at the next rest stop, then have the changes happen as soon as one of them cums inside the other.” Dirty laughs of agreement spread through all four minds, and spells of suggestiveness were cast on both guys.

George rumbled “Gotta stop for the night. There’s a lot a few miles ahead – we’ll pull in there.” Gary was content with the idea. “Grand – you up for payment in kind for picking me up?” George chuckled “Sure – be a pleasure!” The two guys chatted, smuttily and contentedly, as George pulled into the lot. Following a bathroom break and food, they returned to the truck and wasted no time getting down to business.

“AAARRRHHH...” Gary moaned as George pushed his trucker meat into Gary’s asshole. Large meat. Tight ass. The roars & moans grew, from both guys, as they got closer to climax.

“HHHRRROOOWWWHHHRRR!!!” George roared as he shot his load into Gary’s ass. Gary, too stuffed and ecstatic to hold back any longer, blew his load at the same time. Sweating and trembling, both guys separated, sitting down to catch their breath.

Then things got weird. REALLY weird.

“HEY!” Gary yelled. “YOU’RE SHRINKING!!!” George looked stunned. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” He was shocked as his big trucker bear body began to implode, and he shrank down until he was the same size as Gary. But they wouldn’t be eye to eye for long.

“FUCKING HELL!!!” George yelled at Gary. “YOU’RE GROWING!!!” Now it was Gary’s turn to be shocked, as his body began to grow, becoming taller, broader and more heavily built, until he was as big as George had been. Both guys stood gaping at each other in shock.

Next thing to switch was the hair. George’s body lost its thick pelt of body hair, became clean shaven and crew cut, as Gary’s smooth body suddenly exploded with hair, his face vanished under a thick beard and moustache, and his crew cut sprouted into a long mane of hair.

Next were their accents. George lost his Arkansas accent and gained Gary’s California accent in its place. For Gary, the reverse.

Skillsets followed. Gary lost his I.T. skills and became a qualified truck driver. George turned from a truck driver to an I.T. guy.

Finally, faces, documents, memories, identities and lives were exchanged. Gary and George stared at each other, stunned. “What the bloody HELL just happened to us?!” George demanded. Gary replied. “We had our lives swapped. That’s all I know. HOW it’s happened, I don’t know. WHY it’s happened, I don’t know. WHO or WHAT did it, I don’t know. But it’s happened. You’re me, and I’m you.”

Shaking, both guys sat down. Gary asked “What do we do now?” George was blunt. “We live as the people we’ve become. Nothing else we can do. You were planning to hitchhike to Miami. I was driving my truck to Houston. Now I hitchhike to Miami, where I join the developers you were going to join, and live and work as you. You drive the truck to Houston, drop off your load and hit up the dispatcher to get another cargo. Thereafter you live and work as me.”

Gary was silent, contemplating the situation. Then he sighed. “You’re right. Let’s make the best of it, and get on living.” Quietly, each guy got dressed in the other’s clothes and George sat in the passenger seat as Gary expertly steered the huge rig out onto the interstate.

Some days later, at a rest stop a few miles outside Houston, they parted company. George, now using Gary’s name and identity, got a ride to Fort Lauderdale. Gary, now using George’s name and identity, dropped his cargo off in Houston, was given a long distance haul for New York, and headed north. Over time, both guys adapted to their new names and lives. Neither ever saw the other again. Two lives, swapped forever.

Steve, Jack, Thomas and Evan, cackling with glee, ‘ported home to the mansion.

Sitting on the balcony railing, in piskey form, the mischievous adventurers laughed as they told their stories. Jonathan particularly liked what Bill & Dan had done. “A downright fucking BRILLIANT piece of work, brothers.” Peter was equally impressed with Stuart & Anthony’s efforts. “Nice one, brothers. A perfect twist in a life story!” Angus, delighted with his & Alan’s efforts, was also very appreciative of what Steve, Jack, Thomas and Evan had done. He laughed. “A good time was had by all, methinks. Been a lot of fun, and nary a ripple in the outer world to hint at what we’ve been doing. Fucking perfect, guys. Just perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Nicky asked.

“Go ahead, boy.”

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

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

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

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

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

“The name’s Gilgamesh – call me Gil.”

“Jonathan.”

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

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

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

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

“Hmph.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’ve you got in mind?”

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

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

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

“Sounds good.” Jonathan grinned.

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

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

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

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

Sorcerer’s Enhancement Kit.

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

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

Activate the spell as follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. Now, time to wake the kid.”

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

“How’re you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Easy, there… you OK, little fella?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then let’s go hunting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“NNNOOO!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, man. Thanks SO much.”

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

“Sure!”

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

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

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

“Wanna swap numbers?”

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You BET it is, dude!”

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

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