GAY SPIRAL STORIES
Something more revealing 4
By Keeky
published April 29, 2009
Category: Powers & Magic Tags: #male on male sex #police #magic #muscle #straight to gay #worker #twink #clothes
Copyright © 2014 Keeky. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
Summary
Kyle and his converts escape from the police
Dressed in tiny black shorts and a figure hugging black tank top, and clutching a slightly soiled white package, Kyle was feeling pretty freaked as he ran through the dark city streets. Two days ago he had been a ‘normal teenager’ - whatever that means. Now, for no reason he could understand, a weird white-suited guy had given him special powers and some kind of mission. First victim or beneficiary or whatever of the special powers had been himself since, according to White Suit’s intentions, he found he could no longer wear his old clothes but could now only be comfortable in the most revealing outfits.
What was even harder to handle was the effect of these powers on other men. White Suit wanted him to spread the word about more revealing clothing, but to get guys to feel the convincing effect of the powers he had to get them sexually aroused. And if they were hostile to him he had a defensive power that made their abuse rebound on them. So far just about every guy he had encountered had come over homophobic, which meant that they were all now gay. The more aggressively homophobic they had been to start with the gayer and more sexually driven they were now. Whew.
Kyle reflected on this as he ran through the night. He especially reflected on the events in the police station that had turned him into a fugitive. Having been arrested and thrown in the back of a police van with six of his earlier converts, two homophobes and a cop, he had been unloaded with nine converts. The most radically changed had been the cop, Suarez, who, somehow, Kyle had changed from a twenty-three year old straight guy into a sixteen year old twink and expert cock-sucker.
Suarez’s partner, Donovan, seemed to be the only cop who was absolutely certain that the twink was Suarez. At forty-two Donovan had seemed like a grizzled veteran; his head was grey and his body, though strong, was out of shape. He belonged to the sort of blue-collar background that reacted with instinctive hostility to anything he regarded as ‘gay’, regardless of actual sexual behaviour and, seeing the orgy in the back of the van and realising that Suarez had somehow been drawn in against his will, he had snapped something in his head.
Kyle didn’t know that the captain in charge of the station had decided to keep all males away from him and his converts. But he did know that a female officer had been put on guard. This officer, Bernice Lassaro, had not offered any abuse so Kyle didn’t get a chance to see what effect, if any, his powers would have on her. So he was kind of worried that he and his new friends would be in the cell for a long time. That was until Donovan came down to the cells.
Donovan was coldly furious and as soon as he was within sight of the prisoners he began to abuse them. Kyle heard him say to the female officer, “Suarez is my partner and I’m gonna talk to him about what these fucking fags did to him.” This gave Kyle hope and he made eye contact, hoping to draw Donovan’s abuse entirely onto himself. It seemed to work when the cop said directly to him, “Yeah, you fags, what did you do to him, you fucking queers?”
From where he was sitting Kyle could not see any obvious changes in Donovan but he would have figured that something must have been happening even without the obvious alarm shown by the female officer. She had shouted at Donovan to get his attention then made some excuse about the bathroom and run for it. As soon as his colleague was gone Donovan went into overdrive, yelling and screaming. But he didn‘t seem to be getting what he wanted from this and after a while he entered the cell, threatening everyone with his nightstick and screaming his abuse into random faces. All the prisoners were cuffed to the bars and unable to defend themselves if and when verbal abuse turned into something more physical.
Kyle knew that for his powers to work he had to draw the hostility onto himself. “Hey man, you’re behaving like some bratty kid,” he told the officer. For a moment Donovan just stared at him, struck dumb by the force of his own anger. Then, his face contorted into a snarl, he leaned over so that his nose was only a couple of inches from Kyle’s and spat, “Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you, fag?” As he said this his once grey hair completed its transformation to completely blond and seemed to grow both longer and curlier. “You’d love to have a kid in here, I’d bet,” his skin softened, “You’d love to have some innocent, virgin-assed boy in here for you to ruin,” his voice became higher pitched and he seemed to lose some of his bulk. Finally he said, “you sick pervert,” and with that he jammed his nightstick hard into Kyle’s abs. He drew the nightstick back for another hit but before he could move a muscle his face took on a terrified expression. All the lines this face had acquired in his hard life melted away. His jaw and his ears seemed to shrink, and his nose became a button, turned up like a little girl’s. His hard mouth softened as his lips thickened and took on a pinker, glossy quality. Finally his non-descript brownish eyes, still holding Kyle’s, widened and turned bright blue while his newly blond lashes doubled in length and curled seductively.
For a moment Donovan was a big bulky man with the face of an idealised boy. But this didn’t last. As Kyle watched, the cop’s uniform pants and heavy belt slid to the floor, followed immediately by his white cotton shorts as his hips and ass became too small even for their elastic waistband. His dick remained hidden however as he lost over a foot in height bringing his shirt down to his knees but Kyle could see that he had thin but well-formed and completely smooth legs to match his extremely youthful face. “Thit,” he squealed, “you made me thmaller. I don’ wanna be thmaller. Make me big again, you gay fucker.” At this he gave a moan, shuddered, lost his balance and staggered backwards, leaving behind his shoes and the pants and shorts which had fallen around his ankles.
He stood up, his now voluminous shirt hanging on him like a smock. “Oo, I feel really thtrange. I can’t think like I thould. You‘re all tho naked and hot. I know!,” he suddenly beamed, looking even more like a cherub, “all thethe clothe are confuthing me!” and with that he pulled off the shirt and undershirt which, apart from his socks, now flapping on his delicate feet, were the only thing separating his condition from nudity. The young man next to Kyle whistled, “Jeez kid, you’re beautiful.” Kyle had to agree. Officer Donovan now had a slim but perfect body, hairless and evenly tanned. The ideal mid-teen. He also had a cock and balls any man would be proud to call his own and, as he stood stripped in the middle of the cell, surrounded by buff young men, most sporting erections of their own, he was rapidly approaching full mast.
All Donovan’s anger had melted away and he seemed baffled by his changed circumstances. He started to sway his hips from side to side to a tune he had begun to hum, and with the fingers of one hand he lazily toyed with the head of his disproportionate cock while with the other he traced patterns around his chest. Kyle saw his chance. “Oh officer Donovan,” he called. Donovan giggled and looked up briefly from his own throbbing cock. “Donovan!” Kyle tried again. This time the super-twinkified cop raised his eyes but not his face so that he was looking at Kyle through his gorgeous eyelashes, at the same time opening slightly his moist, heart-shaped mouth. Kyle felt a rush in his groin and then something hot and wet on his thigh. “Wo!,” he exclaimed and looking down he was amazed to see that his own dick had hardened out of his shorts and that he had cum on himself. “Wo!” he said again. Then he pulled himself together and said, “Hey babe, how about letting us out of here?”
Donovan soon got the idea and un-cuffed Kyle. By this point all the other prisoners were straining at their bonds and twisting around trying to get their oozing dicks into contact with the cop-twink. Something about Donovan’s new look seeming to be causing spontaneous ejaculations in all the gay men and cum was flying at him from all sides. What the old Donovan would have made of this Kyle could only guess, but as he was he was rushing around the cell trying to catch the sticky stuff in his mouth. Realising that the new kid was quite likely to be ruined before he’d even started out, Kyle sent him to join Suarez in the next cell before releasing the others. “Listen guys,” he said urgently, “we’ve all gotta get out of here. Once we’re free you can all have as much sex as you like but let’s get out first.” They seemed to get the picture but Kyle was also worried that with the exception of one guy who had retained his Speedos they were all naked and all were hard as fence posts. Then he remembered the new package White Suit had given him; he had stowed it under the bench.
In a couple of minutes he had the guys more-or-less clothed. Each seemed delighted with what he pulled out; one of the two former homophobes had matching lycra mini-shorts and crop-top in fluorescent yellow, the other, befitting a military school senior, had on a sheer khaki tank and very short camouflage pants; Paul, the former fat guy, grabbed a white leotard which showed off to perfection his new chiselled physique; Callum went for leather hotpants and vest; the two swimmers squeezed themselves into fresh, bright red Speedos and white, skin-tight wife beaters; another opted for shiny latex bib shorts and the last seemed well satisfied with a straining miniature soccer strip that made him look like he had been instantly transformed from a twelve-year-old kid into a nineteen year old hunk.
Kyle made his fellow escapees leave in twos and was the last to go, on his own. Deciding that, dressed as he was in his tight black top and tiny shorts, he should try to look like a jogger, which had the added advantage of getting him away from the police station faster. But after he had gone a couple of blocks, unsure where he was or where he was heading, he heard a police siren coming up the street behind him. “Shit!” he exclaimed and, after a quick survey of his options, he dived through a gate and onto a construction site.
Hidden from the street, Kyle looked up at the skeletal steel structure on which men were working under bright fluorescent lights. He should have thought about getting back on his way but something about the construction workers held his attention. In their plaid shirts, jeans, boots and hi-viz vests they were all so … so what? He had almost thought ‘hot’ but that wouldn’t be right. He wasn’t gay. Not him. But then he recalled that in the last twenty-four hours he had allowed two guys to blow him and he had cum at a mere look from the gorgeous twink his imagination had made of Officer Donovan. Wait a second; ‘gorgeous’? ‘his imagination’? What was he thinking? He was NOT gay. Then he remembered something White Suit had told him what now seemed an age ago. His powers, that he had been gifted, or cursed with, drew energy from his sexuality. And as he used them his sexuality would run down. He had not listened to this at the time but now it came back to him it was clear; as he converted men his own sexuality was being drained like a battery - he was slowly being turned gay. He had to fight this. He would avoid conflict at all costs.
Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the construction workers he headed back towards the gate but jumped back again as a cop car cruised past. As he stood uncertain of what to do he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face a construction guy straight from central casting.
Slightly taller than Kyle he was tanned and weather beaten, with brown hair and a thick moustache. He had on the trademark plaid shirt ensemble, surmounted by a white helmet. “Hey kid,” he said, “you from the agency?” His deep voice did something to Kyle which he didn’t understand and all he could manage in response was “Huh?”
“Did the agency send you?” the guy asked again, impatiently.
“Yeah. I mean, yes, sir,” Kyle answered, then immediately wondered why.
“Well you’re late. Get over there, get safety gear and then get these supplies up to the carpenters on the fifth.” He then, for the first time, seemed to notice Kyle’s attire, “Are you hot boy?”
Realising what he was driving at Kyle tried to excuse his appearance, “I’m sorry sir. I was at the beach … I didn’t have time …”
“Well never mind that. Next time wear some clothes. Get to work now.”
There were only four guys on the fifth floor and they were sitting on boxes, drinking coffee and eating sandwiches. “Er, guys, I’m Kyle. I was told to bring this stuff to you.”
The four guys looked up at him and all burst out laughing. Unable to stand the thought of two layers of clothing, in spite of his wish to be less gay-looking, Kyle had discarded his tank top before putting on his hi-viz and so he stood in helmet, hi-viz, boots and tiny, high-cut black shorts. One of the guys wolf-whistled, while another asked of no-one in particular, “Well, what have we here.”
“Please don’t,” thought Kyle, desperately.
“Shut-up you guys,” said the biggest of the four. Listen kid, what you wear, what you are, is up to you. We ain’t prejudiced. As long as you do the work you can be as gay as you like. That’s okay with us." The three other guys all smiled among themselves and one shook his head slightly but no-one said anything.
“My name’s Don,” continued the big guy, “this fucker”, he indicated the thin and wiry whistler, “is Spegal, this here,” indicating the short and fat ‘what have we here’ guy, “is Tanner, and this asshole,” the fourth, old, slightly stooping and up to now silent guy, “is Marvin.”
“Hi” answered Kyle, smiling weakly. “Thank you sir …”
“Don.”
“I’m sorry. Thank you Don for what you said. But I’m not gay.”
“So you always work in just your underwear or what?” asked Marvin, and Tanner and Spegal laughed.
“Er, I … I,” stuttered Kyle before deciding to go for his first attempt at simple persuasion, “I just think that when a guy has a good body he should maybe show it off a little more. I mean, where’s the harm?”
“Well, that’s an interesting thought Kyle,” said Don, “and that is a good body you’ve got.”
“Show him yours if you’re okay with him being gay,” Spegal said to Don.
“The kid says he’s not gay,” Don replied, “and just to show that I don’t care whether he is or not, here ya go,” and with that he quickly stripped to the waist. “What do you think then kid? Should I show more of this?” he asked, and flexed his huge arms.
Don’s abs were not so defined as Kyle’s but his pecs, though partly obscured by a mat of black hair, were bigger, as were his shoulders. Kyle was impressed but he was not prepared for the extent to which this became apparent. Too late, as Don posed and flexed, Kyle became aware that his shorts could no longer contain his hot, hard dick and, as he tried to turn away, to his extreme shame, he let out an orgasmic moan to accompany a blast of hot cum that actually hit Don’s chest.
The other three guys leapt to their feet. “Jesus, you fucking little faggotty gay whore!” yelled Spegal.
“Please don’t!” cried Kyle, but Marvin and Tanner joined in a chorus of totally predictable abuse. Only Don stayed silent.
Kyle turned to run, hating what he knew was now happening to his abusers and to himself, but before he could take a step he heard, “Let’s teach the little cum-sucker a lesson,” and felt half a dozen hands grab his arms and push him towards some scaffolding. Once there he was tied, wrists and ankles to the steel poles. Finally he felt his shorts and hi-viz ripped off.
The noise of the construction site drowned Kyle’s screams as his ass was violated for the first time. He didn’t know who this first grunting, sweating, verbally abusive attacker was and, at first, all he knew was the pain. But, as the man ploughed away, Kyle heard Don’s voice, close and to one side, saying, “Relax kid. It won’t hurt so much if you don’t fight it.” Thinking that this somehow sounded like good advice he tried to relax and it was right, it didn’t hurt so much. And as it came to hurt less Kyle began to be aware of new sensations.
During his second rape, by a man, Tanner he thought, who called him a “fairy cum-bucket”, amongst other things, Kyle found that he no longer wanted to scream but was content to merely chew his bottom lip. Eventually even this ceased as he found that he needed his mouth open to moan with each thrust up his ass and, finally, as his ‘attacker’ blew his seed, Kyle for some reason found his moans articulated into “Yes! Yes! OHHH! Yeeeeees!”
During his third session Kyle realised that he was thrusting his ass back at his partner and answering questions such as, “you like this don’t you faggot?” with affirmatives and pleas for harder and faster strokes. Why, asked one part of his brain, am I giving these guys the idea that I want them to do this to me? I don’t want their big beautiful cocks in my sweet ass. But even as he had these confused thoughts he was imaging the huge glistening muscles, hard cocks and swinging balls of the guy‘s he wished were taking him. He gasped with undisguised delight as he used his firm young ass muscles to squeeze hard on the hot, pulsating thing that was inside him.
When it was all over, Don cut Kyle’s bonds. “You didn’t …” began Kyle, in as much sorrow as relief, but Don cut him off, “No boy, I didn’t. I can get all the ass I want back home. Which, I think, is where you should go before your creations want more.”
“My … creations?”
“Yes, your creations. I know a little about magic and I know you did this to them. Good job too - for a ‘straight‘ guy!.”
Too shocked to notice the emphasis Don had placed on the word ‘straight’, Kyle turned to see that once again his imagination had transformed his tormentors. In place of the emaciated Spegal was a giant of a man, easily seven feet tall and 350 pounds of muscle. The growth of his body had pretty much destroyed his clothing and all he had on were his boots a few scraps of his shirt and a triangle of denim, from which huge balls hung beneath the foot long erection he was slowly stroking.
Short and fat Tanner was now almost as big as Spegal with an equally impressive cock and balls. Like Spegal he had retained his thick body hair but had acquired a shaved head. His jeans hung loose at his waist but had split from the top of his thighs to his ankles and were under further attack from his massive cock and balls.
Old Marvin was now Kyle’s own age and his formerly bald pate now sported a covering of shoulder length blond hair. Slightly less bulky, like a more junior bodybuilder, he had been so skinny before that he had completely burst off his clothes and stood in just a pair of grimy and straining white y-fronts.
Kyle took one look at them and the lust visible on their faces and ran.