(Lets go over the top, shall we? This is a crazy post...so beware!)
Durring the next week, I watched as the last, lingering threads of the old 'Mark' and 'Dustin' boiled away under the weight of 'Markie' and 'Dustys' lusts. At first, you could see small examples of their old personalities clinging to their existance, as the old Mark would surface for a momant, or the old Dustin would struggle to break free. It was facinating...and even a little fun. Markie Mancock (Ty had given him a new last name) would be swishing around the kitchen in his skin-tight leather and latex uniform, fussing over making whateverTy had told him to make for dinner, and he'd suddenly moan in horror "Oh...oh no...no, I can't be..." before shaking it off and returning to his work with a song and a giggle. Dusty Dominguez-Mancock (would be mincing around the house dressed in his favorite outfit (a pink baby-tee with "Princess" in glittery letters, and cut-off shorts so tight and hight that his huge buttocks seemed on the very brink of bursting out) when he'd catch sight of himself. He'd pause, mumble "Oh...my g-..." before flashing a wide, thick-lipped sime, toss his mountain of thick, Farrah Fawcett hair, and squeal "Oh, si-si-si! Dusty, he so preety! Papi gonna luz pound dat BOOTY awl nigh', oh so preety!"
As the week pased, it happened less and less...and more often than not, Ty would catch the former father and son engaged in a heavy makeout session or gropefests in the hall. Finally, Ty came home from school one day...and heard Markie squealing "Oh, yeth! Yeth! Yeth! Take daddies big salami, you thweet, wittle boi-bitch! Oh, daddie wuves hith wittle Dusty tho muth! Oh, you're juth thuch a thweet, wittle pieth of Asth!!!"
He could hear Dusty moaning and giggling, "Oh, jes Papi! Fuck ju Dustys beeg booty! Deeper, Papi! DEEEEEPER! Oh, ju fuck ma booty so GOOD! Dusty weesh he could get fucked by ju beeg cock awl de time! Oh, si-si-si, Papi!!!"
In that song of lust and love, Ty could hear the last, lingering shreads of the ond Mark and dustin being boiled away. When they were finished, they made out loudly and with zest for a few minutes, before swishing down the stairs and seeing Ty. Instantly, Markie and Dusty rushed to him, fawning and simpering like cartoon faggots "Oh, Ty-boy! Markie suth a naughty wittle queen, not to notice that you were home. Markie was juth tho bithy fuckin' Dusties sthweet-sthweet ath an' tellin' him how much I wuv him. Can Markie geth you sthomthing before stharting dinner?"
Dusty sank to his feet in front of Ty, looking up at him with worshipful, dog-like devotion and a wide smile on his lovely, pouty mouth. His makeup was perfect and rather slutty, and in those beautiful, flashing eyes framed with long, feathery lashes...he saw no lingering trace of the old Dustin in those eyes. He was only Dusty now, both body and soul.
"That's fine, you two. In fact...why not go out and have some fun? I'll take mom out to dinner tonight. Why don't the two of you go out and hit the local gay bars? After all, while Dusty only looks 17...he's really 21."
In his purse, Dusties ID and green card shifted, and showed his new age. He changed physicly not a bit, but inside...he knew he was 21.
"Oh, that sthounds juth WUNNERFUL, Ty-boy!"
"Sure..." Ty said, as the two lusty queers wiggled and scampered to their rooms to put on new clothes. "...just make sure that you make LOTS of gay friends tonight. Only other swishy queers like you two, okay? Now Markie, you've got to make this sweet boi-bitch of yours happy tonight, so at each gay bar you go to, make sure they all know you're in love, by kissing, snuggling and fondling him as publicly as possible. And Dusty, remember...you're from Mexico. Born and raised. You NEED to show the world that you're a dirty, beaner-boi every chance you get. Dance on tables and shape that ass of yours. Rub your big butt against your 'Papi' all night long. Dance with him. Worship him. Love him with all your heart. Show the world that the both of you are Queer to the bone...and DEEPLY in love. Got it?"
Markie wore skin-tight, leather pants with "Butt Pirate" embroidered on his rear and "S-s-snake!" on the front, no shirt, a leather vest that flaunted his body AND his pierced nipples, and a leather biker cab. Dusty wore the tightest little pink thong that flossed his huge buttocks. Another baby-tee (this one white with 'Cock Hunter' in pink glitter), lacy white ankle socks with pink bows and pink, high heeled Mary Janes that gave him such a wiggle as he walked. Ty waved and sent them out to the raunchiest gay bars in town, and wished that they'd make lots of friends and have lots of fun...
Then...he waited for his foster mother. Mark and Dustin had become a sweet, loving couple. He was proud of what he'd done...but he knew he had to punish June now. He'd been given his powers to bring balence to these evil lives. He knew...it was Junes time.
When she came home and didn't smell dinner cooking, she frowned. When Ty told her that they were going to go out to eat tonight, she at first said she wasn't in the mood...but a mental push from him sent her back out to her car, keys in hand.
"Well, lets go to Chez Smithee. It's a nice, little French place..."
"Drive to the worst part of town. Deep into enemy territory. Find the grottiest, grungiest little Maxican place you can. That's now your favorite restaurant. You'll love everything they have on the menu"
She paused, then said "Now...you know...I've got an idea...I know a place..." she drove around through a nest of dirty streets and dark alleys, finally settling on an outdoor place with a buzzing, neon sign that said "Pacos". She smiled and said "Oh, you're in for a treat, Ty. This little place is my favorite restaurant. I love everything on the menu."
There were a bunch of latinos sitting on the tables or lounging in their lowriders - Chicano-style Rap music blasting from every speaker. She frowned "Damn. The place is crawling with beaners..."
"They're called 'Cholos', and don't worry. Your perfectly comfortable with them, June. In fact...you love these people. Coming here is like going to a favorite bar. These men are REAL men. These ladies are the best girlfriends you've ever had. You know all their names...and they know yours. After all, you speak VERY fluent Spanish."
With a smile and a wave, June pulled up in front of Pacos, to cries of "Hey, Juanita!" She LOVED when her friends called her 'Juanita', and she said with a big grin "Hey, guys! Hey Güero, Gordo and Prieto! How are you doing? Oh, Lil' Flaco..." she hugged someone "...I've missed you. Hey China!" she walked up to some slutty, rough-looking ladies with big, teased hair and way too much makeup. Their leader looked confused for a momant, then smiled and the whole of them came to her, babbling in spanish and hugging her. In her expensive suit and uptown manner, she circulated among them like an old friend and took a seat with the ladies. They chatted about their problems and boyfriends, and Juanita soaked it all up, listening with interest and excited to hear from them. She ordered a plate of nachos and a taco platter, but Ty said "No. That's not nearly enough. You LOVE this food, Juanita. It's your favorite. You LOVE to eat, Juanita...and it shows."
Her both seemed to shift for a second, and her thighs grew thick...her butt filled and shelved...her smooth stomach became a full, fat belly...her small tea-cup breasts swelled into large, beefy jugs. Her face rounded and a double chin formed. She blinked, shook her head, then said with a smile "Hey, Paco...add a few Tortas onto that order...and burritos..."
"And you just LOVE spicy foods, Juanita. The hotter the better. If the food isn't heavy with jalapeño and habaneros. Oh, and your favorite meat is Goat. You just LOVE it!"
She blinked, then said with a smile "And remember, I'm not some wimpy tourist. Oh, and make sure to only use goat meat."
Soon, she was sitting in front of a table groaning under the weight of a mountain of food. As she ate, her new girlfriends seemed to become obsessed with her...brushing out her hair, which became long and black as they did so. Her skin darkened and grew tan, as her girlfriends applied makeup to her face...outlining her eyes in heavy black...coating her eyelids in silvery shadow...lashes heavy with mascara...shaving off her eyebrows and redrawing them as thin, dramatic arches...glossing her lips with bold, silvery pink and outlining them in black. Blush emboldened her cheeks. Several earrings were slipped into place as she ate...ate...ate...
Ty smiled at his foster mother as she sat there like a big Chola-Buddha. Gone was her fancy business suit. Instead, she squeezed her considerable bosom into a red bandeau top, over which she wore a blue checked shirt - sleeves open and rolled up to flaunt her bracelets, rings and long, red nails...front open to flaunt her huge, heavy belly with it's own flashy naval piercing. Her once proper hair was jet black, waved, pomped and permed into a big 'Chola' style. Several gold chains and a rosary hung about her neck. Old, faded jeans that might once have been baggy clung to her thick legs, and her mammoth, thong-flossed ass heaps over the back like an avalanche waiting to happen. Her huge feet were comfortable in big, clunky converese sneakers. Tattoos appeared on her arms...breasts...a tear drop in the corner of one eye.
Someone called out "Hey, Fat Juanita!" and she looked up, a smile on her broad, Mexican face. After all, that was her name now. 'Fat Juanita Dominguez' - the greasy, obese Mexican-born Chola-whore. She was once again the mother of the darling Dusty Dominguez, and still Ty's foster mother. She smiled at Ty, pleased that her foster son was with her. Wasn't she a business woman? No...she'd won the lottery several years ago, and that's where all her money came from. Before that, she'd just fucked other Cholos and pimped her sons sweet ass to the queers. Then, she'd gotton lucky...and ever since them she'd come to her favorite restaurant...hung out with her favorite people, and eaten all she wanted.
When she was done, she got up - groaning under the weight of nearly 500 lbs - and waddled back to her own custom, bright pink lowrider with the gaudy spinners, ground FX and vanity plate that read "Gorda Puta". She smiled and chatted with her beloved foster son, loving that Ty understood and accepted her lifestyle so easily. It wasn't all gringos that could deal with her gorging and whoring. She loved her life and had nothing but contempt for most Yankees...except for that sweetie Markie and Ty. Wonderful Ty.