(by the way, I'm under the impression that Dustin's at least legal age in this thread. About 17 or so.)
Ty decided to make a few more changes, and Markie was suddenly filled with a mix of lust and good-natured playfulness. After all, there was nothing unusual about this. Markie and Junes memories were changed so that June didn't HAVE a son other than her foster child Ty. No, they both remembered this boy Dustin and 'Dusty' - an effete, little gay boy-slut who they'd seen at a bus station, trying to sell himself to the lower-class fags who hung around there. June and Markie had felt sorry for the boy, so (with Markie's conniving) June offered poor, sweet little Dusty a position as Markie's personal "Ass"-istant around the house. They both remembered him as a slim, lithe young man with a dancers build...and a set of epic buttocks with the size and shape of a pair of Nerf Basketballs stuffed into his pants. They remembered him as a swishy, whining, girly-boy with a little, under-sized cock...but a way of sashaying and strutting about that made his swollen man-hams sway and bounce enticingly.
And - as Markie strapped the shrinking, shrieking boy who was once his athletic son and now his willowy lover - Dusty became what they thought of him as. In fact...Ty made a few more amusing changes that had just came to mind. Remembering what a bigot Dustin had been, his skin darkened to a rich cinnamon tone and his hair became jet black. His eyes turned dark and flashing, his mouth became full and naturally pouty, and his speech was now peppered with Spanish. All of which made sense, as 'Dusty' was now Hispanic. His history changed so that he was born to poor parents in Mexico, and his knowledge of American history and culture changed to a patchwork variety, as he'd now spent his young adult life watching Spanish-language soap operas and whoring his luscious ass to Yankee tourists.
"NO!" Dusty squealed in his new, spicy Latin accent, sounding like an angry Latino fag when his partners play became too rough. "Ju no be doin' des, Popi! Ju me Popi! Dis ain' right, Popi!"
Dustin tried to hold on to his mental image of himself, but it was so hard. And every time he looked around, the world seemed different to him...but he couldn't clearly remember WHAT had changed! He struggled against the tight, leather strap that held him in place on his and Markie's bed (it was their bed. They slept here every night, with Markie plowing his big ass and he babbling in his sweet, Latino accent.) but...something about it was wrong? Was it him? Was it his skin? No. Same soft, sweetly built fag-boy he'd always been. He looked down and saw his smooth, soft body. The toned body of an aerobics instructor as opposed to the mammoth man-bull his sweet Markie was. That fact that he was so tiny - now barely 5 feet tall - was a turn on to the simpering boy-slut. From his dainty feet to his beautiful, effeminate face, nothing seemed wrong physically with him.
He didn't notice as a dozen or more piercings appeared in his body. His perfectly formed but undersized penis had a ring in the head, and a pair of rings with attached bells piercing the scrotum, so he jingled as he swished along. His nose had a ring and two studs, his tongue had a bar and two balls, his navel, eyebrows and pouty mouth had rings in them. And his ears had a dozen in each. Gold balls or diamond studs at the top, flowing down into rings and finally a pair of dangling, faux-diamond chandeliers that now swung in time with the first thrust his sweet 'Popi' gave his ass. His hair was long, thick and expertly set into a tumble of luscious Farah Fawsett waves and curls.
In other words...nothing was wrong there.
He looked back and smiled at the rampant man-bull who was plowing his epic ass with such vigerious strokes. Markie was lisping "Oh, you sthweet...sthweet little bith, I juth LOVE your exthra big BUTT! Oh, Markie could do thith ALL DAY, you sthweet, Latino boy-whore!"
Far from being insulted, Dusty pressed his ass back against Markie's thrusts, clenching his strong buttocks tighter and squealing in Spanish about how much he LOVED being fucked by Markie. All traces of the former Dustin were gone now, save for a strong resemblance in his face. After all, Ty wanted to be able to look Dusty and Markie in the face...and see Dustin and Mark.
June closed the door on her moaning, squealing houseboys and smiled. With no memory of having been married to her house boy Markie, or of having once called that Latino boy-whore Dusty her son, she slipped an affectionate arm about Ty's shoulders, glad that the state had let her be a Foster Parent to such an exceptional young man. After all, she was an unmarried woman with no children of her own. She said "I know my Markie's a but...hard to take sometimes, Ty...so I just wanted to say how glad I am that you've gotten used to those two. They really are in love, you know. They got married this year."
"I know they're in love, June. In fact, I'm certain they'll ALWAYS be in love, and spend the rest of their lives fucking and sucking each other. But...what about you?"
June sat down in her sofa, asking "What do you mean by that, Ty?"
"Nothing, mom." Ty said with a smile. Still, it was a problematic point. He'd turned his foster father and brother into a pair of the most simpering, sweet fags in the world. Yet, each still looked enough like each other that Ty could enjoy the memories of the rotten people they'd once been...and the terrible way they'd treated him. Still...what to do with June. She'd been a major bitch before, so she HAD to be punished in some way. But...it had to be in a way that didn't either ruin his fun OR make her unrecognizable. She had to handled in a very...special...way.