Sebastian 1: Genesis

 

Look at him, isn’t he adorable? I’d been watching him and his college friends playing ball every Saturday from my balcony. Each time, I’m hearing him talk about “slamming pussy” and “playin’ the game” as if he knows what that means. Jock boys always think the world of themselves, and sometimes for good reason. Every now and again, I look back on my own days at that age, fondly remembering all the bullshit trouble got myself into. I’m telling you- once you hit a certain age, you just want to relive those debaucherous days again; and hearing this little shit wasting those years degrading the ladies… I knew I could do so much better with his assets.

So into my mind popped a little idea. We’re living in a world of infinite possibilities, and using a few tricks and a whole lot of ingenuity you can really access some more unattainable goals. For instance, knowing the local voodoo priestess can be an invaluable advantage. Miss Marie had lived across the hall for as long as anyone could remember, and she had the respect and fear of everyone she met. So for a few hundred dollars and debt or two to her, she gave me a little gris gris which she insinuated could help little old me up my game. 

With bag in hand, I had to make my move. That Saturday I watched with bated breath as the boys were shooting hoops and talking shit until the sun went down. When the streetlamps went on, one by one they departed and left the ladykiller waiting on his Uber. As he sat there flipping through Tinder on his phone, I whispered the incantation that Miss Marie had taught me. Three times I repeated it, never once breaking my gaze on him. Upon the fourth recitation, I saw him suddenly throw his phone on the ground in rage. He tossed the basketball across the street and started to pace back and forth. Calling down to him, I “checked in on him.”

“Hey! You alright?” He looked up to my balcony and grimaced. 

“Shut the fuck up ya fruity bitch! Phone’s dead that’s all! Mind your business!” I chuckled and leaned against the railing, watching my hateful prey unknowingly within my clutches. Thinking his Uber was on it’s way, he sat down on the curb and pouted to himself. Five minutes turned to forty minutes and with his ride nowhere in sight, he played right into my hand. “Ay! Fag! Got a charger or somethin?” A smirk crawled across my face and I waved him over to my building and buzzed him up.

Now truth be told, I had no idea what to expect. Marie didn’t exactly explain how the gris gris would work, nor did she break down how to initiate the plan. So when he knocked on my door, I’d be lying if I said I was entirely understanding of what I was doing. I swung the heavy old door open and there he stood. Glistening with sweat and a scowl on his pretty boy face with his beat up skateboard in tow. 

“So where’s the charger?” He looked me up and down, disapprovingly looking at my big belly and old biker tattoo sleeves. Back in the day, I rode with my crew from coast to coast, fuckin’ every stud, twink, and bear that came my way. But the years hadn’t been too kind to me, and from the look on his face he sure didn’t see me the way that those boys back then did. Convincing myself to swallow my pride, I tossed him an iPhone charger and pointed him to the living room outlet. Plugging it in, he plopped down on my couch, and completely ignored my existence. Muttering under his breath, I could tell his Uber had cancelled.

“You can stay here until your car gets here.” I leaned against the hallway arch, taking in his steaming muscles. He clearly worked out in addition to all the days and hours of basketball. And damn… did he smell like hours of and hours of basketball. It was my favorite scent- raw testosterone, absolute masculinity, untempered musk; and his was STRONG.

“Bet your ass I’m getting the fuck out of your creepin’ ass house when this car gets here.” He thought he was so hood, so badass. He had no clue. Soon, though, he’d learn how to be a real man. Soon he’d be more than just a basic pretty boy frat kid. He started coughing gently, trying to hide it behind his phone screen, but the coughs grew louder and heavier. “Yo, get me some water!” I smiled.

“Get it yourself, bitch.” He whipped his head in my direction and tried to jump up, but realized he could barely move. It was as if he had no breath. “Oh, you’re feelin weak, huh? Why don’t you call your friends and they can come pick you up.” He tried to reach for his phone, but his arm had all but given out. Panic set in behind his cruel, mean spirited eyes and for the first time I saw him for who he really was behind the muscles, good lucks, and put on swagger: a little homophobic bitch who was in over his head. I walked over to him and plopped down on the couch next to him. His smell was strong and virile, full of youthful pheromones that he knew were a gift straight from God. I tested the waters and lifted his limp arm, exposing his wet pits. Assaulted, I tell you, I was assaulted by the sharp fragrance that poured from the hairy confines. He could do no more than a whiny whimper as I buried my nose and tongue into his armpit. 

“Well, fuck, kid. It’s been a fuckin’ bitch knowing you. But it’s gonna be one hell of a good time bein’ you.” I saw the last of his pathetic consciousness fade away. Where it went I neither knew nor cared; all that was left was his empty, hollow husk. Curious, I brought my fingers to his plump lips and pried. A sound I can only describe as stretching elastic rang through the room as I pulled and pulled. Looking inside, he was hollow, albeit padded with slick flesh that outlined his impressive musculature. Letting go, his face snapped back to normal. He was ready.

I eagerly stripped, thinking of all the adventures I could relive from within him; thinking of the numerous opportunities that I could snatch with his glorious body and my confident mind. Laying him down, I stuck my toe into his mouth and pushed. After a few thrusts downward, my foot slid down his throat. It took a solid minute for me to weasel my second foot into the tight confines of his slimy mouth and down his throat, but they were soon both slipping down his torso, through his muscled legs and landing in his tight feet. I was several sizes larger than he, so his tiny size 7s felt like a pair of tiny, wet rubber socks to my size 13s. Yet, after a little adjusting, they looked amazing at my size. I brought one to my face, pressing the damp soles on my nose, taking in the salty, rank funk that emanated from between his toes. I stood up, his mouth around my ankles making my a little wobbly. I grabbed his waist and pulled up, watching his legs slip over mine. The sheer size of my pudgy calves and thighs seemed to be suctioned into his, adding my mass to his musculature. He would be so much better at my 6′2 than his 5′9.

After a hefty tug, my bloated ass was sucked into his, tightening and firming into an ass any stud would kill to plow, and anyone would kill to plunge their tongue into. Sauntering over to my mirror, I saw a toned, gorgeous lower half, with my tubby top pouring over our waist. My cock was pressed tightly against my groin, since I’d forgotten to slip it into his when my ass was… compacted. I stuck my meaty hands beneath our skin and tried to grab my shaft, leading it towards his. The kid wasn’t packin’ anything impressive. I guess his ladies didn’t have high standards for dick. But I’ll tell you when my thick rod was slurped into his, it was like I was thrusting inside the tightest fleshjack I’ve ever used. Looking down, I smiled at a girthy, 10 inch, uncut fuckstick. I swiped my finger underneath my new foreskin and took a deep sniff. Fuck. Yes. It was unreal. The cocksmell was so strong yet so addictive, it was as if it was dripping manliness in odorous form. 

I knew that there was building pressure from within, and that the midsection would be the hardest thrust. So, I readied myself. Getting my footing underneath, I took a deep breath and held it in. With as much strength as I could muster, I tugged upward and my bulging belly was gulped into his skin with a loud “shlorp.” This took my body a moment to adjust, with a hefty beer gut protruding from my stomach, but after a deep belch, a set of washboard abs was there before me. To my surprise, and glee, some of my tattoos had transferred to my new skin, which gave me hope for the sleeves I’d grown to love.

Speaking of which, it was time for me to thrust my arms into his, which seemed entirely easier than my stomach. I slipped on his arms like gloves, the sensation of touch returning to my fingertips as they slipped into his. Looking at the mirror, it seemed only a fraction of my sleeve transferred over. Oh well, better than nothing! His shoulders snapped over mine, and I stood there in all my nude glory- with his jaw around my throat. I was ready. I was so ready to begin anew. I grabbed the jaw, matching his bottom lip to mine, and pulled his face over mine like a silicone mask. It suctioned to my head and within seconds I opened my eyes to a new man. 

I was incredible. My face was an amalgamation of both our likenesses, the best of both worlds. I winked at my new self, testing out my old cocky smoulder. I still got it, and hell, I would be using it a whole fuckin’ lot. A knock on the door woke me from my eyefucking and walked over to the door. Opening it, there stood Marie. She looked me up and down and rolled her eyes.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s a bonafide stud once again.” I smirked, and let her in. “Phew… Boy you’re fragrant. But then again, I’m sure the boys you fuck are into that sort of thing huh?” Smiling, I lifted my arms, and took in my scent. Better than poppers. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to pay up.” I plopped down on the couch, preparing to hear the terms of my debt.

“What you need, baby?” She grabbed me by the cheeks, looking her straight in the eye. All color must’ve flooded from my face.

“Your big blue eyes aren’t gonna get you anywhere with me, son. You are to do as I say, do you hear me?” I nodded silently. “I need followers, boy. Followers. Those who are willing to do what I need done, and in exchange… I’ll add them to your little crew. When I tell you to get something done, I need it done, you hear me?” I nod. “Now when I say go get some more boys, ma cher, you understand what I’m saying, yeah?” I smile as she lets go of my cheeks. “Enjoy your immortality, baby. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she tosses me some clothes as she walks out my door.

It’s been three weeks since that day, and the old man in the flat is nowhere to be seen. His ‘son’ Sebastian has since taken over the lease, and become something of a staple in the community. Always makin the ladies swoon, and the guys drip. Always there to end a fight with a swift K.O. to the chin. Always happy to help a down-on-their-luck neighbor. But most importantly, always looking for new people call ‘family.’