Email: ukhooder@gmail.com
Transformation
I'd never been to a fancy-dress party before, and to be honest I wasn't looking forward to it. I'm not really a party-type person but Carla had more or less emotionally blackmailed me into going with her. 'Oh please, Steve – I really really want to go, and Greg'll be there.' She gets wet knickers for Greg. No idea why; he's a bigger wimp than I am.
Carla was going as a nun. To be fair she looked the part. Me, I had no idea what to wear. 'Get those old PVC jeans out and go as an emo,' she suggested. I hadn't worn them for years – they always were a bit too small for me – but in the absence of any better idea I said I'd try them. With a lot of struggling I got them on, and with some boots and a leather jacket, I thought I looked Ok.
She cast a critical eye over me, then dragged me into her bedroom and made me sit down. For the next fifteen minutes she enjoyed herself altogether too much with a hairdryer and a tub of something that looked suspiciously like epoxy adhesive doing things to my head that I couldn't see. When she was satisfied with that, she set about me with black eyeshadow. Finally she held up a mirror. "Ta-da!"
I hardly recognised myself. My eyes looked dark and big, and my already thick black hair was sticking out wildly – some of it completely covering my left eye – in a carefully-orchestrated mess. I looked worryingly cuddly. I had to admit that it was surprisingly sexy. "Wow." I liked it.
She nodded. ""Cute," she said.
Cute. Ha. I'm twenty. I'm puny and I'm a wimp, and I still wasn't convinced, but it was done.
* * *
The place looked like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe novel: it must have been amazing back in the day, but that day was long since past. It was almost a ruin. The only thing lacking was bats circling the ramparts.
The party was going on upstairs on the first floor. We passed suits of armour and broken shields, and long-forgotten, dour-looking men looked down on us disapprovingly from dark paintings as we climbed the central staircase.
The sound of general merriment was coming from the main room. I had to smile: there were people dressed as everything from Frankenstein's monster to Spongebob Squarepants – and some people had clearly gone to a lot of trouble over them. In my shiny black PVC and leather I felt quite under-dressed. The Archbishop of Canterbury appeared through the throng and offered us drinks from a tray. "Bless you, my children." He crossed himself with his free hand, smiled beatifically, and winked at us at us before moving on.
Carla had spotted Greg. "See you later," she said a bit breathlessly. "Have fun." She threaded her way in the general direction of a tall choirboy. I doubted that I'd see her again tonight.
I wandered around for a bit, chatted to Attila the Hun, a nurse in a white latex uniform, and what I think was a washing machine, though I could be wrong on that. A zombie was giving me interested looks from the bar when I went to get a refill, so I went in the other direction and lost myself in the crowd.
I'm not sure what I was drinking, but it was having an effect. I also needed to pee. I found a toilet along a dusty corridor and, having taken care of that, I thought I'd have a wander around the house and take in the ambience. I actually like old buildings like this – they have a lot of character.
At the end of the corridor was a staircase that clearly hadn't been used in living memory. There was a worrying amount of plaster dust and debris on the steps that increased as I descended, and the sounds of the party were fading slowly, echoing around the decaying walls.
The room I entered was very grand indeed – or at least it had been once. It was bare now, and had a very high ceiling. The dying light through the huge window illuminated an uneven, paved floor and crumbling walls. But it wasn't the crumbling walls that stopped me in my tracks and made me gape – it was the figure standing in the middle of the room.
I have to say that his costume was superb; it made my emo outfit look like the work of a total amateur. He was tall, and in a full black rubber body suit. His head was concealed both by a rubber mask of some sort, and by the loose hood over it. The mask must have had small lights in it because sinister red glows were coming from around the eyes. But it was his build and the way he was standing that impressed me the most. Talk about muscles – every one of them was clearly outlined under the skintight black rubber; his thighs were huge, and his six-pack was wonderful. In one hand he was holding a sword or blade – it looked like a medieval weapon of some kind. And he was looking at me.
Now, I'm gay, but I am not in the least bit kinky – at least up until that point I hadn't thought I was – but that guy absolutely oozed sex. I was conscious of a feeling that was completely new to me: I felt intimidated, and I wanted him to dominate me. Exactly how, I'd no idea.
"Hello," I said. "You lost too?" I wondered why he was down here and not wowing people upstairs at the party.
He didn't reply. He just stood there looking at me with those glowing eyes. I didn't know what to do. A door slammed somewhere above us and I heard laughter, then footsteps. They were distant, and they didn't sound like they were coming this way, but for some reason I felt the need to be somewhere more private with this amazing rubber guy.
He must have heard the same thing; he didn't speak, but he turned and slowly walked away from me, towards a doorway. I swallowed as I watched his muscles moving under that shiny black rubber, and I followed.
He led me down a dusty passageway, to another room. This one was smaller, littered with debris. It was further into the ruins of the old house and the party noises were gone. When I turned into the room he was standing in front of me looking like some kind of sexy medieval knight. His black rubber gear shone in the light and for some reason I simply could not look away from it.
Even though I couldn't see his eyes, they seemed to pierce me. I know that sounds ridiculous but that's what it felt like. And I suddenly had the urge to kneel down in front of him. The moment I felt it, I sank to my knees.
Looking up at him he seemed even more powerful – god-like, even – and I had this feeling that I was exactly where I wanted to be. I needed to touch him. I needed to lick his rubber-clad body. I'd never had feelings like that before in my life – not about rubber – and it should have worried me a lot more than it was doing right then. He still hadn't said a word, and he hadn't moved since we'd come into that room. He was just stood there, gazing at me through that mask, the light moving on his rubber-clad chest as he breathed.
I was getting turned on; I could feel my cock hardening in my jeans. I heard - or rather felt in my mind, because it wasn't sound, I don't think – the words, "do it."
Was it a command? Or was it permission? Either way, without engaging my brain I shuffled forward on the uneven floor until I was at his boots, at his rubber legs. I looked up at the solid thighs, and the big, round bulge between them. I needed no more permission or instruction: I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his boots and licked them. Waves of horny pleasure coursed through me with every stroke of my tongue. From his ankles upward to the tops of the boots they were slightly crinkled, and I sought out every valley, every hill on that shiny black rubber.
Above the boots was a couple of inches of smooth calves, and then the knees. There were more creases here – especially behind them – and I explored every one.
Then those muscular thighs. I licked slowly upwards: the fronts, the sides, and getting as far behind them as I could reach.
"Stop. "
The word echoed in my mind. I froze. For the first time, he moved. He took a step back, standing more casually, with his weight more on one leg. I'd never seen a guy – or anybody, come to that – look a stunningly sexy as he did at that moment. He lifted the sword and ran the tip of it from my knee up the inside of my thigh. And then along the length of my now fully-erect cock.
I almost passed out from the feel of that. It was fucking amazing. Just that touch.
Then something weird happened (as if everything that had happened so far hadn't been weird) – I heard more words in my mind but I couldn't understand them. I don't know what happened then - I think I must have blanked out, because the next thing I knew I was lying flat on the floor, my arms in front of me. And I was naked.
I heard him kneel down over me, and I felt his hands on my back.
I was still in a dazed state, but I remember feeling the cool air and the cold floor on my bare skin. And I couldn't move. Not an inch. I didn't want to move at that moment, but even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. He was no longer holding the sword – my eyes opened in terror: there was an evil-looking coiled whip in his hand.
A whip? Even in my daze I wanted to yell and to get out of there. He released the coil, and the long, tapering thong dropped sinuously to the ground. I watched him raise the thing, and heard him flick it hard on the floor behind me. The sharp percussion reverberated from the bare stone walls. Then he raised it again, took aim, and brought it down on my bare arse.
I screamed. I had never felt pain like that before in my life. It was as if I'd been struck with a red-hot wire. Every muscle in my body tried to tense, but nothing got through to them. It was pure agony .
And yet…
...And yet I found that I wanted it more than anything. I closed my eyes (at least I still had control over some small parts of my body) and I revelled in the wash of pure pain/pleasure that swept over me in a wave. If anybody else had done that to me I would have broken all records getting out of there – yes, I was in agony, but for some reason that I didn't understand I would not have tried to escape even if I'd been able to. Don't ask me why, I can't explain it. It was as if this was something I had been waiting for all of my life.
I saw him looking down at me. My torment seemed to be intensely satisfying to him. He raised the whip again, higher this time. I saw his arm muscles flex under the shiny black rubber, and then it came down again. This was much, much worse: as well as biting into my buttocks, the end of the whip curled around my right thigh. It stung like a line of hornets. I screamed again.
I lost count of the number of times he whipped me: on my back, my buttocks, my thighs. I also lost count of the number of times I screamed. By the time he finished, my back, arse and legs were incandescent and my voice was beyond hoarse.
But with each stroke of that whip he seemed to own more and more of me.
He stood gazing down at me. The whip had gone. Slowly his hands moved to his crotch and he did something down there. A very large, erect and dripping cock sprang out. He stroked it a couple of times, then moved behind me, knelt down, and slowly lowered himself on top of me. I gasped as his muscular rubber pecs touched my shoulders for a moment. I felt the tip of his cock. It pushed in slowly, all the way.
I have been fucked before, though it's not something I do on a regular basis - I prefer other activities usually. Even had I not been whipped recently I would have yelled, but the feeling of that huge cock ploughing into me was almost more than I could take. It felt like my hole couldn't possibly expand that far, and yet it was doing. As he thrust in the last inch he lowered his rubber body and I felt it make contact with my naked skin all over. I gasped - that was so unutterably, inexpressibly beautiful.
He fucked me. He began slowly, but increased both speed and power until his cock was pistoning in and out of me. It hurt – oh God it hurt – but like the whipping had been, it seemed to be part pain and part ecstasy. I closed my eyes tight so that I could feel every stroke more intimately and concentrate on each one.
With his heavy rubber body pressing me down he fucked me for what seemed like an eternity. I could feel his slick rubber-clad muscles flexing, gliding over my skin as he moved his hips.
Then, at last, I felt fire in my arse as bolts of his hot spunk began pumping into me. Gradually he slowed, then stopped.
I think I passed out.
* * *
Later. How much? No idea. He had gone.
I pulled myself up onto one knee (which made my back, arse and legs scream with pain again). As I moved I suddenly became aware that there was tight rubber encasing my body all over. That on its own was startling enough - but my eyes opened wide as I looked down - and I stopped breathing...
My body was no longer the slim, wimpy one it had been. I had muscles! And how...
I knew, without even having to see myself, that I looked just like him.
The morning sun was shining through the window. I stood up - and I felt amazing, energised. This body felt so strange – and so good. I flexed my new muscles and ran my hands over the black rubber for quite a long time, wishing there were a mirror so that I could see myself.
I searched the building but all was silent; there was nobody about. The party room upstairs was a mess, of course, but everyone was long gone.
I searched for a very long time, but I didn't find him. I felt empty inside.
I wondered how I was going to get home – I'd look a bit odd on the number 44 bus – but then realised that looking the way I did now, I didn't fucking care. In fact I'd fucking walk - I wanted everybody to see me.
And then I heard a voice in my head. The words were much, much clearer than last time. "Think. Just think."
Startled, I looked around, but there was no sign of him. But he was with me! He was in my head. Immediately the emptiness I'd been feeling disappeared. I closed my eyes and grinned. But what did he mean? Think? Think what? Think where I wanted to go? I chuckled; as well as a wonderful body, perhaps now I also had the power of teleportation. Ok. 'I want to go into the next room' , I thought.
I was there! In the next fucking room! Or a different room, at least. I almost fell over. What the fuck?
And then my brain registered what I was looking at. On the floor lay a guy in PVC jeans that were a bit too small, a leather jacket, and boots. Me. Even as my hand was reaching out to check, I knew that he was dead.
I sat down on the floor. What had I done? Sold my soul to some kind of devil? I checked myself; I felt fine. My back and my arse still hurt like blazes, but that was Ok. 'Hello? Are you there?' I thought to myself.
'I am.'
I was slightly startled as the reply came into my head.
'What have I done? Am I going to hell? Have I sold my soul?'
'Not as far as I know. Why, do you want to?'
' No!' Well that was something at least.
'But that's my body there on the floor. I'm dead.'
'Not dead. Nothing. It will disappear soon. But whenever you want you can have that body again. You can change between them whenever you want. Just think.'
'Am I still mortal?'
'You could try jumping out of the window to find out, but I would advise against it. Yes, you're still mortal. But, like the rest of us, you have been changed. Is this not pleasing to you?'
'Well yes. If that's all it is. How do you mean changed? Do I have other powers?' I was beginning to feel like some kind of superhero.
The voice in my head chuckled. 'We have many powers. Many powers indeed. You will discover them. You are just like me.'
'Oh.'
'Enjoy them. I will always be with you to guide you. Or if you would like us to be together again, if you want more pain… Just think what you want and it will be.'
Well all right! I could deal with that. I looked down at my rubber-clad body. It was stunning. I could think of many things to do in that body.
To be absolutely sure, I tried changing into my old wimpy body. Yep. Same as usual. I changed back. I teleported home. This teleporting thing was amazing. It was going to save me a fortune in bus fares.
As I walked up to my front door I saw a pizza delivery boy looking at me with wide eyes. I tried commanding him to come to me.
He walked up to me and stood gazing adoringly into my masked eyes. I didn't fancy him in the slightest so I let him go. But then I thought of somebody I really did fancy: Martin. He was an arrogant prick, but he was gorgeous. And there was Patrick. Cute, blond Patrick. And Tommy, and Alwyn and…
I grinned. I couldn't believe it. There were so many possibilities - so many, many possibilities.
And I intended to explore every single one of them.
