Cultural Reappropriation

 Looking to the corner of the gym, Nick stared with poignant malice at the hispanic twink. Taking selfies in the weight room mirrors was already a no-no at the Texan’s “Manly” gym, but that thing was a bad hombre from cocaine-infested Mexico. The kid had only recently joined the gym, and from what the desk manager had spilled, he was “potentially” undocumented- which in Nick’s mind meant: illegal. The kid was lean, tan, perhaps a bit scrawny. He walked in every evening at 8:30 wearing the stereotypical laborer uniform of a dirty, sweaty white tee shirt, heavy cargo pants, and beat up old work boots. For the red-blooded, all-white-meat American man, this kid needed to realize just where he was.

Nick continued his workout, lifting insane amounts of weight thanks to the copious amount of steroids in his system. As soon as the kid finished his final set at the abs machine, he took his water bottle and quietly walked into the locker room. This is exactly where Nick wanted him to be. He reracked his weights and booked it to the locker room. Locking the door, he began to prowl the rows of lockers, doing his best to locate the kid. Unfortunately, he found poor Tomas at the mirror of the handicap stall. Even more unfortunate for Tomas, he was mid-selfie. His modest endowment rounded out his underwear as he snapped the pic, sending it to his boyfriend Diego. 

The entire incident lasted a mere 15 minutes. To anyone in the gym, nothing was wrong. Nick sauntered out of the locker room with bloodied knuckles, walked to his car, and drove away. It took the staff a full thirty minutes to figure out something was off, and that Tomas hadn’t checked out. When the desk manager walked into the shower stall, he found Tomas lying motionless on the ground, swimming in a pool of his own blood. He had been severely jumped and beaten. By the time paramedics had arrived, Tomas was comatose. 

Luckily, unlike Nick, the manager was not a piece of shit, toxic masculine, bigoted, evil racist. In fact, he was good friends with Tomas and his family. So when the boyfriend begged to see if there was anything of the video cameras, he was all too eager to pull them up and identify Nick as the perpetrator. Diego, in turn, called Dante. Thus, a plot was hatched to avenge their fallen martyr- one that would bring comfort to the family, and immense amount of retribution to Nick Smithson. 

Nick awoke outdoors, midday, with a blinding headache. The night before was a blur at the Calico Club. All he remembered was a gorgeous woman with legs for days buying him shot after shot. Before he knew it he was passed out, only to be startled awake by the bucket of freezing cold water being thrown on him. He struggled to rise, realizing quickly he was restrained by several leather belts. Whats worse, he was stark naked.

“What the fuck is going on!” He cried out, quickly realizing the gravity of his situation. The door swung open behind his head, a snickering laugh echoing in his ears. Into view walked Diego, his mouth hidden behind a crisp bandana. He sat down onto the seat in front of him: saying nothing, but speaking volumes with his piercing scowl.

“No sabes quiénes somos. Pero sabemos lo que hiciste.” Diego spoke with an unparalleled harshness, nearly spitting at his captive. Nick struggled against his restraints, hocking a wad of spit at Diego’s feet. “Te arrepentirás de lo que le hiciste a Tomás. Pero arreglarás lo que has roto.” Nick couldn’t understand a word of the Spanish being howled at him, but he knew the tone and read the situation all too clearly. He was in trouble. Significant trouble.

From behind him, Dante gagged his mouth with a reeking pair of Diego’s landscaping work socks. Tomas had a certain affinity for mansmell, as did Diego, and it played a major role in their relationship. Little did Nick know he’d be a party to this relationship; albeit a silent party. Gagging from the raunchy stink and grime of the fabric, tears rolled down Nick’s eyes. The macho man was starting to crack under the pressure. 

“Mientras disfrutas de mi apestoso almizcle, Dante comenzará la ceremonia. Tomas volverá con nosotros pronto.” Before pulling the plug on the braindead body of Tomas, Dante had performed a ritual he’d done many times before in Ciudad Juarez. Placing Tomas’ favourite cap onto his head, he had recited the incantation, pulling the very soul of his beloved cousin into it’s confines. When he finished, Tomas’ body was deceased. So as Dante revealed the very cap which housed Tomas, all participants waited with bated breath to see if it was all true.

He took the ratty old snapback and slammed it down onto Nick’s significantly larger head. Within seconds, Nick was convulsing. His arms strained against the leather belts, veins popping from his well-built biceps. He shook violently, enough that the bindings around his wrists and ankles began to give way. His desperate screams of terror muffled by the dingy sock, Diego leaned forward with anticipation, eagerly awaiting his soulmate’s return. As quickly as it had began, the spasms ceased; Nick lay there motionless. Silence fell on the patio, until an ever so hushed moan escaped the body’s bound lips. It was no longer a moan of anguish, but rather of pleasure. Nick’s eyes opened no longer blue, but instead a dark brown. 

“My angel,” smiled Diego “you’re back.” Tomas’ vessel began lapping tirelessly at the rancid sock he’d missed so terribly, the pungent taste and wafting musk filling his senses once again. Diego rushed to his lover, ripping the restraints off, and pulling his saliva-dripping sock from the vessel’s mouth to ravenously kiss his lover. The taste was different than he was used to. Hints of Nick’s whiskey breath permeated the embrace, but that would soon change anyway. The vessel grabbed Diego by the waist, pulling his jean shorts and boxers down, and revealing his prized, uncut 10 incher. Tomas needed to be satiated, and Diego was all too keen to provide whilst humiliating Nick’s pristine straight-boy body. In one movement, he thrust his cock into the vessel’s mouth.

Knowing who’d be blowing him, he of course refrained from washing his groin; and Tomas was once again in his favourite place- nose deep in Diego’s rank, pendulous balls and his cheesy cock deep in his throat. As Diego skull fucked his beloved, he was excited to proceed to the second stage of the ceremony. The vessel began to buckle and almost bubble beneath the pale porcelain skin. It began to gurgle and undulate whilst it rapidly shrunk. He furiously thrusted his cock into the vessel’s mouth with a voracity he’d never experienced before. The body settled at about three quarters it’s original size and weight, whilst maintaining the virile and built physique. Beginning from the tips of it’s size 13 feet, waves of melanin washed upward towards it’s skull, bathing it in a wash of sunkissed Hispanic tan. 

The body was becoming the perfect mix of the two: Tomas with a pinch of Nick. The cock maintained it’s hefty 10 inches, mirroring his man’s mouthwatering member, whilst the skin retracted around the head with Tomas’ characteristic ample foreskin. The body’s agile, calloused hands grasped hold of it’s improved cock, pumping it furiously. The former Nick’s tattoos migrated south to his feet and groin, presenting “Coloque la boca aquí” above his growing pubes, and many traditional Hispanic motifs gracing the tops of his sweating feet. 

As Diego continued to plunge his cock into his boyfriend’s rapidly restructuring face, he began to sniff the air, getting a growing whiff of some incredible musk. This made him only more turned on, as he neared completion. With the final thrust coinciding with the now abundant foot funk, pit stink, and cocksmell; Diego shot rivers of cum down the vessel’s throat. The face finished it’s morph, and the soul of Tomas was finally fully integrated with his host. Pulling out, Diego enthusiastically looked down at the handsome face of his soulmate. So familiar, yet ever so slightly different. Maybe even improved upon. The excited vessel shot up to his feet, posing ever so cocky for his man.

“What is your name now, since you are only half Tomas?” Diego winked at his studly companion. The bold new man smiled a vainglorious grin, before his deliciously suave voice replied.

“Javier, mi amor. You like what you see?” Diego smiled fiercely, fully embracing the new Javier. Apparently Nick’s cocky, proud, arrogant attitude had merged well with Tomas’ compassionate, sweet, and loving demeanor. Diego was in love, his soul reunited with it’s other half. Javier strode to Diego’s side, lifted his well-muscled tanned arms, and pulled his boyfriend’s face into the welcoming stink of his pits. 

The two enjoyed eachother for the next few hours, before Dante announced they needed to head out to a construction site for some impromptu work. What a perfect opportunity to get worked up (and out) for round 2. However, not before Javier snapped a pic of his succulent body to post to his thirsty OnlyFans. A prelude to what Diego and he would show that night, and many times yet to come.