Twinkyboy
AgainstMyWill@gmail.com
October 2009
Hans and Andrew met for the very first time outside the door of the club. They’d both ended up there on their own, and as they waited for the bouncer to return they stood uncomfortably, both wanting to break the awkward silence but neither really wanting to acknowledge what they were obviously both there for.
They’d heard about the club, both of them, through back-channels and gossip, through acquaintances and hushed reference. Well, the club itself was quite public. It was a popular leather bar, but not usually right now, at 10am on a Thursday morning. No, it was clear to both men that they were here for the same reason.
They eyed each other up. Hans was a giant of a man, standing 6′5″ and clearly a few hundred pounds of solid muscle, his leather pants and jacket were part of his staple outfit, even on a Thursday morning. His shaved head and goatee went with the rest of his look to give him a rather sinister air.
Andrew was no slouch himself, though. A few inches shorter, Andrew evidently weighed quite a bit more, a combination of muscle and a sizable gut, he was a bear of a man. Piercings up and down his ears and nose, his buzz cut hair and bearded face all gave him as aggressive a look as Hans. His outfit was just jeans and a white wife-beater with a hoodie thrown over, but if anyone passing by had been forced to choose one man or the other to fight, it would have been a close call, and not a pleasant one in any case.
Finally, to both men’s relief, the bouncer returned.
“He’ll see you now.” A casual wave. Hans and Andrew walked in through the dark club, smelling of leather and beer, and up the staircase towards which the bouncer gestured.
Through the door at the top, they found themselves in a lavish, beautiful office. Leather armchairs circled a large mahogany desk, and the walls were lined with hardwood bookshelves stacked with a large collection of great books.
Sitting in the executive wingback chair behind the desk was a man neither Hans nor Andrew would have expected to run a leather bar. His pronounced German features stood out on a face clearly coated very carefully in makeup, and when he reached out to shake their hands, both men noticed how carefully manicured his hands were, how delicately painted each nail.
“Hello,” he welcomed them in a florid German accent, “Und velcom. Certainly you must have guessed you are both here for ze same reason, yes? You hear...” he paused, and smiled, “You hear maybe vee know how to get tvinkyboyss?”
Indeed, they had. Hans and Andrew had both heard quite certain reports that the club was a front for a black market trade in young, pretty twink boys who they sold for undisclosed sums to be owned and used as sex slaves. And both Hans and Andrew were men of considerable means who both shared a soft spot for dominating pretty, effeminate young boys.
“Vell,” the man continued, “I am ze owner here and what you have heard is true. But here is how vee do zis: you both must bid. Und vichever of you vill pay more, vell, zis man gets ze tvinkyboy.”
The way the man said “twinkyboy” in his German accent made both Hans and Andrew start to get a little hard in their pants.
“Wait,” Andrew said, though, concerned, “What happens to the other man? Why can’t we both buy a twink?”
“Oh!” The owner laughed. “Vell, you think tvinkyboy grow on trees? Vee have to get zem somevere,” and he laughed a high-pitched giggle.
Neither Hans nor Andrew understood what that meant, but after that rather confusing declaration, the owner launched immediately into the bidding. Neither Hans nor Andrew were comfortable having this conversation in front of the other, but it seemed they had no choice.
“Well, I’m ready to pay up to two million dollars for a boy,” Hans proclaimed, hoping to start the numbers high enough to scare off Andrew immediately.
“I can do two and a half million,” Andrew replied, casually. Neither man really knew much about the other, and began to feel the other out.
After ten minutes or so, Hans had settled on an eight million dollar bid, and Andrew, disappointed but rather resigned, was ready to throw in the towel. At this, the owner grinned a mischievous grin.
“OK, gentlemen, ze preliminary stage can be over, ziss is normal amount of time. And now vee get to ze real meat of it,” he said, flashing a slight, excited snarl as he smiled at the two of them. He reached his delicate hand out for a remote sitting on his desk and pressed a single button.
A television descended from the ceiling and came to life. A sound system evidently hidden throughout the room crackled audibly. And a recording began to play. Hans and Andrew watched, first with curiosity, as the screen showed a man not unlike the two of them, a big leather daddy, maybe even taller than Hans, but with a girth more like Andrew’s. He was kneeling down, his massive bulk balanced on his knees as he sat back on his ankles. And, once Hans and Andrew understood what they were looking at, they both simultaneously realized that the man was crying.
Well, not quite crying. Sobbing, really. Screaming out loud, pleading. The sound system reproduced in full surround the man’s cries for help.
“No, no, NO! PLEASE, no, I’ll do anything, anything, stop it, make it STOP!”
Hans and Andrew watched with growing horror. The sound track also included the sound of laughter, people off-camera. One of the voices was obviously the owner’s, the German man’s unmistakable high-pitched giggle. But when he spoke on the tape, neither Hans nor Andrew could quite make out what he said, it was too distant, too faint.
But neither man was prepared for what followed. The huge man on the television began to shift—at first it looked like a video glitch in the recording—and quiver, his massive bulk throbbing, his entire body pulsating. The throbbing became grotesque, his entire body shifting and stretching like his bones were made of Jell-O, and his screaming only grew more intense.
As Hans and Andrew stared in rapt, horrified fascination, the permanent changes started to show. The recorded man’s beard vanished, suddenly, the hairs pulling right back into his skin all at once. His craggy, leathery face stretched taut, all at once, becoming a smooth, silky complexion. As he felt the tightness he reached his hands up to feel his changing face so both Hans and Andrew saw his hands abruptly shift from meaty paws, his fingers like sausages, down into delicate, smooth hands with precisely manicured nails.
The man’s screaming grew even more intense but the tone of it changed, the pitch was going up, as his entire body began to shrink, to suck in, to tighten up. His vast bulk collapsed in on itself and Hans and Andrew both gasped aloud as the man on the television curled into the fetal position, clutching his own knees, and shrank and shrank away. His burly arms, initially the size of tree trunks, sucked down to the bone until they were small and thin with no visible muscle at all. His massive thighs and thick calves, too, shrank away to nothing at all, thin legs completely dwarfed by pants that now fit him like a tent.
His buzzed hair grew, too, and as he clutched his knees and pulled his face in towards his legs, his hair grew into a faux hawk, somehow already perfectly coiffed. And his screaming diminished—at some point Hans and Andrew realized they weren’t listening to agonized screaming anymore, but instead a soft whimpering. And then not just a whimpering but a lustful moaning.
Both men sat back in their chairs, their faces white with shock, as they watched the former muscle-bear stand up, his clothes falling off his tiny new body. Standing before them, on the television, was a pretty, effeminate little twinkyboy, his smooth skin, perfect faux-hawk, moist dark eyes, and concave chest the polar opposite of what they’d seen him start as just minutes before.
The last thing they saw on the TV before the recording ended was the twinkyboy licking his lips and grabbing his throbbing erection in one hand and walking off screen with a look of hunger on his face.
The television turned off and retracted back into the ceiling and the club owner let both Hans and Andrew sit in silence for a few minutes to soak in what they’d seen.
“OK, gentlemen,” he continued, with an eye-roll, the whole routine becoming rather old hat for him at this point, “You understand now what vee are doing here, yess? One of you outbids ze other, vell, ze loser, vee turn him into tvinkyboy. Ze good tvinkyboy is empty little bimbo”—the owner tapped his skull with one finger, here, and affected a ditzy look—“so ze loser, vee vill wipe his head clean. Nothing left inside but, unh, unh, sex, fucking, sucking cock. You understand?”
Neither Hans nor Andrew was prepared to speak, still, both so shocked with what they’d just seen.
“OK, vell, you are still recovering, I know. I do not have all day, so let’s start the bidding again. You finished at, what, 8 million? Let us start again. Who vill pay, oh, two hundred million?”
The two men, already in shock from the video, felt their stomachs fall through their chairs. Extortion. Two hundred million? They each looked back and forth nervously at one another and then the owner. Hans spoke first.
“You know, forget it, I don’t want any part of this.”
The owner just smiled. “You must realize I could not run a successful business if I let you walk out at zis point. If eizer of you tries to leave, I vill assume ziss is your way of saying you forfeit and ze other man wins.”
Hans gripped his chair arms in rage, his face now white with anger in addition to his fear.
Andrew saw his opportunity. “I can do two hundred million.”
The owner smiled. “Good, good. Two hundred. Hans, would you like to counter-offer? Two hundred fifty?”
Hans shook his head in disbelief and then defeat. “Fuck. Goddamn it, yeah, I can do two hundred fifty.”
Andrew settled into his negotiation demeanor, learned from many years as a highly successful lawyer. “Three hundred.”
Hans snarled at Andrew and spat back, “Four.”
Andrew just calmly replied, “Five.”
Hans leered at Andrew through furious eyes and saw his chance. “One billion dollars.”
This caught Andrew off-guard. He hadn’t expected it to go that high that fast, and he knew he didn’t have that kind of money. The owner knew it, too.
“Oh, Andrew, ziss is unfortunate turn of events, yes? Maybe Hans here can do more than you. Are you ready to be his tvinkyboy fucktoy, Andrew?” The owner grinned a not-so-pleasant grin.
“No, no!” Andrew panicked, “I have—I have assets. I can do more than a billion, if you’ll take one of the jets.”
“Yes, vee see your other property, vee have done our homework,” the owner nodded, “And vee vill pay fair market price for both your assets.”
The race was on. Both men began to bid with even more fervor, throwing in planes, office parks, their entire world-wide holdings to try to avoid losing and suffering the horrifying fate of the man they’d just watched on the television. But an hour later, Hans couldn’t come up with anything else of value that he could use to beat Andrew’s bid of ten billion dollars.
“Oh, Hans, ziss is too bad,” the owner said, with mock sympathy, “And vee agree, vee look at your assets and ziss is all, zere is no more. Too bad, what a pity.” The owner flashed Hans a mocking sad pout.
“No,” Hans said, shaking his head in disbelief, “No, this can’t be happening. This is a bad dream, this is a nightmare. Let me out of here, I’m leaving, this is crazy.”
He stood up and walked haltingly to the office door. Neither the owner nor Andrew made any move to stop him. Just as he reached for the doorknob, it turned. Hans froze as the door slowly opened and three beautiful boys walked into the office between him and the door and closed the door behind them. One of the twinkyboys was Scandinavian, a thin beautiful boy with pale skin, blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. Another was a Thai boy with mesmerizing dark eyes and lashes. The third was a pretty, lithe Mexican boy with a gelled faux hawk and a captivating bubble-butt.
All three boys were naked, and all three boys had rock hard, dripping erections.
“Oh, look at ziss,” the owner spoke, with mock surprise. “Three beautiful tvinkyboys. Just like you like zem, Hans. Vy don’t you play with ze tvinkyboys? Vy don’t you touch them? Zey want you to touch zem, you know.”
Hans stood, frozen to the spot, terrified, but undeniably turned on by the beautiful twinkyboys. Determined to escape, though, he once again moved for the door. As he did, the blonde boy reached out wordlessly and touched his arm.
As he felt the boy make skin contact it was like being electrocuted. Hans felt the boy as if he were inside his head, and he flinched as he tried to keep moving for the door but found his thoughts were getting confused, focusing was getting harder. He pulled his arm away but the twinkyboy stared at him, and Hans could feel the boy’s eyes boring through his head and right into his soul.
“No, no, please, make them stop,” Hans begged.
The owner laughed, “But Hans, zey don’t want to stop, zey want you, zey want to feel you. Zey want you to join zem.”
Andrew was watching, to the side, as Hans was subdued by the three young pretty boys. Every time they touched his skin Hans reacted as if he’d been tazed. It was such an enthralling show, Andrew almost forgot all about how the club had just extorted him for his entire worldly fortune. Instead, he just watched as Hans was reduced to a whimpering wreck.
The twinkyboys stroked Hans’s arms and neck and shoulders until the giant man’s legs buckled and he fell to his knees.
“Get out of my head!!“, Hans screamed, but the boys continued, without so much as uttering a word, touching him and rubbing him. The blonde one and the Thai boy began to kiss each other softly, slowly, while Hans stared, powerless now to resist, and the wet sounds of their lips and tongues sucking and slurping against each other made him harder, made him moan.
The Mexican boy knelt down in front of Hans and started to slowly suck the Thai boy’s hard cock. Inches from his face, Hans watched the Mexican boy’s lips wrap around the hard shaft of the Thai boy’s cock, and hears the slurping noises as he slowly, languidly suckled the cock, flicking his tongue out occasionally to lick around the shaft, to taste the other boy’s balls. Hans stared, his eyes filling with tears as he realized he couldn’t will himself to look away. The Mexican boy gave Hans a sidelong glance while he kept sucking the other boy’s cock, and Hans spotted the briefest flash of a smile curl at the edges of his lips. Hans’s cock grew harder and he moaned aloud.
Andrew finally couldn’t help himself and started heckling Hans. “You like that, you big muscle-bitch? You’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna be my little twink fucktoy!”
Hans snarled with rage but couldn’t turn his face away from the twink orgy in front of him. “Fuck you,” he shouted back, “Fuck you, make it stop! You can make him stop, this is fucked up, man, I’ll do anything you want, just make it stop!!”
“Anything I want?” Andrew laughed at him, “OK, here’s what I want: I want your twinky little lips wrapped around my fat, hairy cock until the end of time, you little bitch!” Andrew howled with laughter.
Hans, for his part, just wept in despair, sobs wracking his body.
The Mexican boy slid his lips off the Thai boy’s cock and turned to face away from Hans. On his hands and knees the Mexican boy slowly crawled backwards, his hips swishing back and forth, stretching like a cat, approaching Hans’s face with his bubble butt. As he drew within inches of Hans’s face the boy stopped and turned to look over his shoulder at Hans, his eyes full of compelling lust.
The owner smiled and egged him on. “Yess, now iz ze time, lick ze tvinkyboy assss, lick it and ze transformation can begin.” He followed it with his high-pitched giggle.
Hans, for his part, had only a little bit of fight left in him, the past hour of powerlessness in the dark grip of the boys’ compulsion starting to take its toll. He tried to turn away but finally gave up, exhausted. The Mexican boy stared directly at him and with his oversexed mind forced Hans as surely as if he’d grabbed the big man’s face with both hands and pushed. Hans stretched out his neck, pushing his face towards the boy’s large, inviting ass, the cheeks just slightly spread. As his face touched the cheeks of the boy’s ass Hans moaned softly into the boy’s crack, the warm air from his mouth spreading the boy’s cheeks a little bit more.
The smell of the boy’s ass made Hans even harder than before, the warmth of his cheeks and the moisture between them so inviting. Hans felt his face sink between the cheeks and smelled the musk of the boy’s ass as he drew a deep breath through his nose. Hans opened his mouth, now oblivious to Andrew’s laughter and cheers and the owner’s giggling and the twinkyboys all staring at him, drooling, and Hans licked the boy’s ass crack, prodding his tight puckered asshole with the tip of his tongue.
That was the last straw. His cock exploded. Hans began to cum like he’d never even imagined possible. Into his leather pants he started pumping jizz. He could feel the muscles between his legs pulsing furiously, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing to push the cum out as fast as he could.
But then it didn’t stop. It just got stronger. Hans felt his cock continue pumping, felt the blood rush to his cock even more aggressively, felt his shaft swell up even bigger than it ever had before, and Hans moaned into the boy’s ass as he felt his cock spew a steady stream of jizz into his pants.
Or anyway he assumed it was jizz. The other two boys, the blonde one and the Thai one, walked behind him and grabbed his pants and slid them off, and then sliced his leather shirt off so it fell to the ground beneath him. Hans was wearing just a jock-strap now, and it was drenched already in his jizz.
Andrew watched, mouth wide open with amazement, as the changes began. Hans’s body began to convulse as his cock dumped out cup after cup of hot spunk. His beard started to recede into his face along with all his body hair, and as it did the stream of jizz grew stronger. Andrew nodded and grinned with dawning realization as he watched Hans’s body rapidly pour itself out through his cock, somehow turning his own muscle and bone into jizz and spewing them out like a deflating balloon. Hans’s body broke itself down, pumping out all his massive bulk, his 6′5″ frame shrinking down to no more than 5′6″, his hundreds of pounds of lean muscle mass shriveling away to no visible muscle at all. And all of it, somehow, Hans’s body spewed out his cock as jizz. Gallons of the sticky hot viscous white spunk coated the floor, now, in an improbably large puddle spreading out from under him. Jizz sprayed in pressurized streams out from all sides of Hans’s jock strap. Finally Andrew couldn’t help himself and walked over and tore the jock strap off and gasped as he saw Hans’s cock, shiny and purple and massive, the piss slit wide open to accommodate the torrent of jizz pouring out of him.
Hans moaned and grunted into the Mexican boy’s ass as he furiously tongued it and licked it and held it firmly in both hands, so he couldn’t see but could only feel the changes overtake him. His bulging pecs shrank away until his chest was concave and hollow, his once giant nipples just little pink nubs on his creamy white hollow chest. And for every pound of muscle that came off, another pound of jizz hosed down the office floor.
Through it all, the only part of Hans’s body that remained the same was his ass, formerly well-proportioned on the giant man’s muscular body. On his new frame it softened out with a layer of fat but remained just as large and was grotesque, two massive beach-ball ass-cheeks begging to be fucked sticking out obscenely from his little twinky form.
As the physical changes overtook him, Hans’s mind went through changes of its own. At first, he could feel his cock pumping, could feel everything physically, the muscle being torn off the bone and the bones creaking and shifting and shrinking, everything being squeezed out of him, everything draining in a violent torrent out of his cock, and Hans resolved to fight it, somehow, began trying to pull his face out of the Mexican boy’s ass. As the moments passed, though, he started to feel drunk, or drugged. His thoughts started slipping from his grasp, every time he’d get an idea into focus it would go blurry, he’d forget it. Hans felt like he was being slowly dragged under deep, dark waters, and thrash though he might, he only managed to occasionally break the surface, pull in a breath, and see his surroundings. Just as soon as he renewed his resolve, just as soon as the horror returned, just as soon as he realized once again he had to fight, it was all gone, he couldn’t remember what was so scary. As the minutes passed and Hans’s body changed into a sweet little twink’s, he sank mentally into the inky depths of oblivion. The thoughts fled his head and left nothing but...
... but lust. He felt it, Hans did, a craving, a desperate need. And as the changes drew to a close, he stood up, the giant man who’d entered the office at 10am completely forgotten, now a pale, thin twinkyboy, glossy black emo hairstyle covering one of his now-pretty dark eyes with the long lashes, his big swollen butt quivering with anticipation and need, his pouty, full lips hungry for the only thing they would ever want again.
He looked around, blinking his new pretty eyes, and spotted the big, bearish leatherman sitting in the big chair grinning at him, facing him, legs spread lewdly. He walked shyly, bare feet splashing through the cum pooled on the floor, over to the big man, eyes fixed on the crotch of his jeans and the obvious giant erection running up the jeans’ left leg. The new twinkyboy, overcome with desire, started to salivate. Oh, he thought, I never want to be without that cock. Why, he continued, thinking to himself, is it not inside me right now?
He realized he couldn’t speak—that wasn’t his role, he wasn’t meant to be heard, he was meant to be used. So instead he just gave the big leatherman a shy smile, and the leatherman grinned back, put his arm around the twinkyboy, and guided him to his knees.
“Alright, boy,” Andrew spoke, thrilled with the boy before him, still giddy with power from watching Hans’s transformation from massive muscle-bear to his personal twink fucktoy, “Get to work.”
The twinkyboy-who-used-to-be-Hans unzipped Andrew’s pants, and his big cock fell out with a thwap and a thud. The boy quickly took the huge fleshy thing in his hands as though it were a priceless treasure and then slipped it between his lips, never more delighted in his life, his smooth glossy red lips wrapping around the veiny flesh. He tasted the manly musk and sweat as he slid his mouth up and down the shaft of the leatherman’s cock.
The German owner smiled and watched the whole while as the new twinkyboy extracted the first load of cum from his new master. As he finished, and as Andrew grunted and blew a big load of spunk into his new fucktoy, the owner smiled. Andrew stood up, zipped up his jeans, and grinned at the owner.
“Anozher satisfied customer,” he smiked, “Vee’ll have the assets transferred within ze week. A pleasure doing business, sir, and enjoy ze new tvinkyboy, yess?”
Andrew just grinned, threw his new bimbo twinkyboy fucktoy over his shoulder, and let himself out.