Bodychanger

by Dace

Gage has a particular set of skills, even for a sex worker. Tonight he's set to service José, a man who wants a more masculine body, a right-sized cock, and a few other tune-ups. The fact that José is straight doesn't matter: he'll pay to have Gage give him what he needs.

Gage knocked on the hotel door after looking up and down the hallway. There was a cleaning cart down the way, but they were already inside, doing their thing. He didn't hear anyone moving on the other side, so he started to reach for his phone. It wouldn't be the first time a John got cold feet and backed out, but this one had paid the deposit already, and a lot fewer guys backed out after he'd started asking for some honest money up front. Just as the lock screen flashed, the door opened, and a quiet voice on the other side spoke up.

“You the guy?”

“Yep. You going to keep me waiting?” Gage asked, a little impatient. This guy had been paranoid about giving him his name or the photos he needed to do his work, and his enthusiasm for the job was waning already when they'd arranged the meet at a hotel. It would be unprofessional for him to back out now, but he would be sorely tempted if this john kept playing games.

“Right, sorry—just. One sec.” There was a clatter and the security lock opened, then the door yawned wide. Still hiding the john, though, as if he was scared someone might see him letting Gage into his hotel room. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped inside, trying not to hold it against the guy. He padded into the room, sitting in the little sofa-chair as the john closed the door and locked it, including both privacy bars. He'd seen the pictures—the client was Latino, a little skinny, and a little less hairy than you might expect. It fit with what he'd asked for. Gage could tell the guy was nervous, and he set aside his own impatience with the client to remind himself that part of his job was setting the other man at ease with what was going to happen.

“Why don't you sit down a minute. I'm Gage,” he offered, gesturing to the seat.

“I'm—uh, look, man I don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything,” the john said. “I'm not like—I'm not a faggot. I just know you're the only way to get what I want.”

“Well, this faggot's name is Gage,” he replied, deadpan, still pointing to the open seat. “Sit down, tell me your name, let me do my job. I want to make sure you're getting what you want.”

“Right. Yeah,” the guy said, still obviously nervous, but he sat into the chair and fidgeted a little. “I'm—my name's, uh, José.”

“It's fine if that's a lie, I'm certainly not going to tell anyone.” Gage shrugged. His name actually was Gage, but he understood that his clients sometimes felt the need for anonymity. “I have your messages and you've told me what you wanted, but can you tell me again, in your own words? I want to make sure I get it right for you, and that you get what you want.”

“Look, it's—I just want to be bigger, you know? More manly,” José avoided eye contact. “Like, muscles. And a proper fucking beard. And I want my skin to be less—I dunno, like a farmhand.”

“Got it, and I came prepared for that,” Gage nodded along, trying to keep his patience. The guy had great skin—a sort of gorgeous ochre that probably meant some Mayan ancestry somewhere. It sucked that he mostly saw clients who saw flaws in their bodies from so many different angles—it was hard sometimes to keep some professional distance. This guy needed therapy, as much as he needed Gage's services. Still—more detail was better, given how his process worked. “If you can tell me more about that, more specifics, it'll help. I promise, I won't judge—I've heard it all, done it all.”

“Yeah, your life must be fucking wild, man. I still—like, I saw the photos, the before and after. I know this is happening, or I wouldn't have put up my money. But it's still wild as fuck.” José shook his head, then seemed to steel himself. He looked up, making eye contact with Gage for the first time. “Right. Uh, I want my skin to be, like, light. Not white! Not like you, but uh, just not so dark. I have a picture, here—”

José handed his phone over, and he tapped the bare midriff of a woman in a very revealing bikini, smiling into the camera and hanging off his arm. “Like that. You know?”

“Sure, that makes sense.” Gage caught the skin tone intuitively. He passed the phone back to its owner. “In terms of muscles, you know it's not going to be exact, right? I can shift mass, but it sort of distributes itself evenly, a little different on everybody. I have a little more control with body hair, but it sounds like you don't want too much of that.”

“You mean I get even gains while skipping leg day? Sign me up.” José chuckled, then sort of broke it off when he remembered he had, indeed, signed up for this. “And that's fine for the body hair. Just no extra back or crack hair, okay? What else? Right, uh. Beard. Just—full coverage, okay?”

“Your beard seems pretty full to me, but I know that can be grooming. Can you touch the areas that you want me to fill out?” José did, pointing along his jaw. “Got it. And—look, I know this is sensitive, but I feel like I have to confirm—your cock.”

“Yeah.” At once, José was sheepish. “It's dumb, isn't it?”

“You'd be surprised. You certainly aren't the first guy who's asked for it. Any of it.” Gage nodded, in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “Not the first straight guy, either.”

“Who the fuck complains about having a cock that's too big, right?” José smiled, a little wistful. “But seriously—there was this girl, a total 10. But we could never … so we broke up.”

Gage thought about the girl in the bikini. Cut the guy a break. “Gay guys call it boyfriend dick. Something you can take every night without a problem.”

“Really? Fuck, that sounds—every night?” José seemed curious, until he remembered the subject was dudes banging each other. “That's wild.”

“So yeah, tell me—what do you want?” Gage brought the conversation back around.

“Uh. Three inches. Off the—uh, off the top, not total, okay? And maybe an inch of girth?” After a moment, José bit his lip. “And um, my foreskin?”

“What about it?” Gage blinked. That was unusual—it happened, but less often than you'd think. But it hadn't been something José had put in the contact form. “Shorter? Looser? Longer? I don't have much to give there, at the moment, I didn't come prepared for that.”

“Gone. Look, I know you can just get it clipped, but… “ he squirmed. “I just couldn't, you know? The idea of a knife near my junk.”

“Oh. Yeah, that's doable.” Gage nodded along. “I actually regrew mine from someone who—anyway. Client confidentiality. Right. I think I have everything I need.”

“Cool,” José bit his lip. “So—uh, what first?”

“Well, we have to do both.” Gage paused, the confusion on José's face evident. “I can only—uh. You're giving me some things, and I'm giving you some things. So, we have to do both.”

“Oh!” José blinked, then his face fell. “Oh. I kinda hoped—”

“You can back out, if that's too much. I understand. I'll just keep the deposit. Or, if there's a particular problem, we can just—”

“No, I'll—I'll do it. I don't have to … uh, I don't have to be into it, or anything right?” José made a gesture, “I don't have to … cum?”

“You have to be hard enough to—well, for that part, at least. Look, I know it's going to be scary, but I'll be patient, and I brought boyfriend dick, okay?” Gage joked, and José gave him a grateful smile. “We'll do that first, and the process makes you pretty horned up, usually. I don't think you'll have a problem pinning me to the bed with your monster cock once you're stacked up and have all that new body hair, right?”

“Right. Cool,” José nodded, clearly hyping himself up a bit. “Right, let's—let's do this.”

Gage stood up, offering him a hand. José took it, a little intimidated perhaps. Gage was muscular, hairy, a little taller than him, and with his beard fully grown out; all by design, what he'd prepped for this encounter. He could shift things around on his own body, slowly, but it was always easier to simply come with what he needed. And to show off what he was going to be giving away.

José's shoulders were still a little hunched as Gage stepped into his personal space, lightly reaching for the other man's waist. He lifted the hem of the Latino's shirt up slowly, brushing warm, smooth skin with the back of his knuckles as he did. They shrugged the shirt off together, then José surprised Gage by returning the favor—taking Gage's shirt off then touching, open-palmed, at the muscles it had concealed.

“I'm—these are—” the other man stammered, staring at the hairy, muscular chest before him.

“Yep. Some I built myself, some I borrowed.” Gage shrugged, and he saw a lust catch fire in the other man's eyes that had nothing—and everything—to do with sex.

“People give that up? Man, I could never.”

“Everyone wants something a little different,” he laughed, then put a hand on José's waist. The other man looked up at him, afraid again. “I'll have to go first, you understand? Inside you. Spares you having to uh, take a few extra inches.”

“… yeah.” José bit his lip again. He wasn't ugly by any stretch; Gage would have happily slept with him for fun, if they hit it off on the apps or at the club. There was even an impulse to kiss him gently, tenderly—but he reined it in. José was straight, and he was getting fucked for a specific reason, not because he wanted a cock inside him. So instead, Gage kissed his smooth, richly-toned chest, admiring the feel of it beneath his lips as his hands gently unsnapped the clasp of his client's jeans.

José really was straight—despite the intimate contact, which had definitely got a few red-blooded “straight” guys aroused in Gage's experience, the Latino's underwear was slack, a loose tent over a substantial bulge. As the jeans slid down, he gently massaged around the other man's firm buttocks, letting his face nuzzle into José's crotch a bit. In his experience it took a little while for a straight guy to get over the emotional discomfort they felt when someone played with their ass and it—against all expectations—felt good. So he stroked along flesh, lightly massaging and rubbing, before gently pulling the underwear down.

He could see why José wanted to lose a few inches.

His client's cock was a rich, dark color, plump and long and hanging low across his balls, with a foreskin that completely covered the head. It was longer than Gage's hand, soft, and he suspected that when it got hard he wouldn't be able to wrap his hand all the way around it. If he weren't a consummate professional, he'd be daunted by the fact that eventually, that would have to go inside him. But for now, he focused on the first part of his job: deflowering this man to endow him with the body he wanted.

While he kissed along José's thighs, he let his hands wander up and around his client's asscheeks, pulling them apart, cupping them, letting his fingers run along the smooth skin where legs joined together, tickling at the scant pubes that dusted the other man's meaty balls. It was clearly getting him revved up: his cock was warm along Gage's neck and shoulder, and every time a fingertip slipped across his hole José flinched, each time a little less.

“Let's get you on the bed,” he murmured into those smooth, warm thighs, and José scrambled back a little bit, sitting on the bed with some nerves. He absentmindedly jerked himself a little bit as Gage stood up, fishing in a pocket for a little canister of lube. “I'm going to slick up a little. Feel free to use some at any time. And don't be afraid to tell me if you're uncomfortable or in pain.”

José nodded, eyes slightly out of focus. Gage hoped he was dreaming about how his body would feel after they were done, and not dissociating to avoid the fact that he was very naked with another man. He leaned over to put the lube on the bed, then stepped back into José's space, deftly unbuckling his own pants to let them fall to the floor. For jobs like this he usually wore briefs, especially if the john wanted changes to his cock. It framed his cheeks nicely and left his package pleasantly plump even before they got to any action.

“I can keep my underwear on until it's time, if you want.” Gage offered, and José nodded, still obviously a bit daunted. So Gage knelt down again, gently pushing the other man back while he started to lick and kiss between those slender, smooth legs. After a minute, he slipped one shoulder, then another over his shoulders so he was effectively underneath him, his face planted in José's crotch and nuzzling between his thighs. He could feel the straight man squirming a little bit at the sensation, and when his eyes flicked up he wasn't surprised to see him gently rubbing along his half-erect cock. Gage grinned into his new facemask, letting the sweaty, meaty scent of his client's crotch fill his senses as he started to fondle himself through his underwear. He hadn't come too hung, since José had indicated that he'd be giving some up, but he had more than enough to get this job done.

Moving on to the next step of his patented straight-boy seduction technique, Gage slipped his tongue under José's balls, gently running it up and down the taint for a minute before dipping downwards. When he probed between those taunt cheeks, he felt the thighs bracketing his head tense slightly, then relax. He'd sent a preparation list ahead, since straight guys often didn't know how to clean themselves, and it was still a coin flip that they would do it properly or need a shower before things could proceed. Despite his obvious reservations, José had done a good job—his hole was musky but clean, until Gage's tongue slathered all over it and began to probe gently. The quiet gasps up above him said everything he needed to hear about whether he was doing a good job: he was blowing this straight boy's mind well before he got to the business of reaming him out.

He kept down there for probably ten minutes, progressively probing deeper and deeper with his tongue before slipping out and circling around or nuzzling up José's crack. Twice he had to pull the man's cock off his pillar-cock, noticing the tension in his balls as they started to rise and the trembling of the thighs on either side of his head signaling the first notes of an orgasm. Gage had a supernatural ability to tell when a man was on the edge, either from his natural gifts or from years of abusing them to hell and back in situations like this. He kept edging José along until the man's will was utterly broken, his mind completely fucked by the sensation of the muscular gay hooker eating him out like a buffet. Beneath him where José couldn't see, he slipped his underwear off, and let his cock bounce free, dripping precum with excitement.

“We're almost ready,” Gage said, coming up for air. “But trust me, you'll want to change positions.”

“Huh?” José moaned, still cross-eyed with lust. Probably because Gage's fingertips were teasing his hole, gently rubbing to keep him open and primed.

“You should be looking at yourself in the mirror when I give you thirty pounds of muscle and half my body hair.” Gage watched the grin spread across his client's face, and slid back to allow the other man to stand up, walking him over to the full-length mirror. While José staggered into position, the hooker pumped some lube onto his palm and stripped off entirely, letting his briefs fall to the floor. José gave him a wary glance, but after a second drew his attention back to the mirror. Gage stepped up behind him, putting one hand on his shoulder, the other, slicked, right between his cheeks. He made eye contact. “You got this.”

One finger slid in easily, gently probing; more to get him used to the idea of being open than anything else. The second faced resistance; a little tension in José's slender body as he was opened up. Gage's cock wasn't too girthy at the moment, so he figured that would be enough. But he kept his fingers in play for a minute longer, circling around the hard knot he found quickly after years of practice in dudefucking. He could see the sensation crawling up José's mind like static, fuzzing out his higher functions a bit as he discovered why so many gay men liked getting fucked. Gage knew a few of his straight clients had picked up pegging after using his services. Some had been repeat customers, after all, coming back for a little more, or a little less, of the same.

He could tell José was ready, eyes rolled up and half-lidded. Gage deftly slid his fingers out of the way and replaced them with his cock, slick with lube and precum already, sliding right into place as his client's ass opened up for him. There was a half-hearted moan-hiccup noise, an abortive gesture towards resistance and heterosexuality, and maybe this wasn't a good idea after all, crashing and burning before the pressure and sensation Gage had gently, carefully prepared him to embrace. It wasn't quite the natural configuration nature had given him at birth—he'd changed that up long ago, traded length and girth and shape enough times that he'd almost but not quite forgotten what “his” cock should look like. The one he had now was mid-length, mid-girth, arrowhead narrow at the top and tapered to break a straight boy open slowly and evenly until he was ready to beg to be fucked. One of his favorite configurations, though he wouldn't mind the extra length and girth he'd be taking from José when this round was done.

This particular straight boy was wasted on heterosexuality, Gage decided. Or José was just really eager to please Gage to get to the main event—either way, it only took a few heartbeats for him to adjust to the idea that he was getting fucked, that he liked the feeling of a cock shoved up inside him, and that it felt even better when he moved just right to help his hooker fuck him. The tight, slick warmth felt good on his cock, the warm flush of body heat on his front as his hands slipped around hip and cupped the chest of his client. He held it in place for a moment, letting José really get used to being opened up by another man's cock, then slowly began to rock it back and forth a little. The slender Latino grunted at one point, but his body language was steady and Gage kept the even, careful pace for another minute until the other man sighed and relaxed into it, the last trail of exhalation leaving a hint of a true moan of pleasure.

Gage was a professional; if José had been in this for its own sake as well as the transformational benefits of sex, he could have tender-fucked until they were both a slick, moaning mess, dragging them away from the cliff of wasteful orgasm until they were well and truly ready to finish. But for this, a man so driven to change himself that he was willing to cross the inviolable line straight boys set for themselves, Gage was a professional too: he stepped up from the careful, tender prodding to a more demanding, urgent pace, watching José's eyes roll up in pleasure as his prostate began to get a proper massage and his hooker worked to take his pleasure. He had to slap José's hand away from his cock once, just to remind him there was a second act he'd need to prepare for, but otherwise they were well on their way.

The first few times he'd done this, nutting in a straight boy had been quick, almost too easy, getting off on the idea of conquering the kind of inaccessible man that every teenage gay lusted after while locked in the closet. After dozens of straight boys, the novelty wore off, compared to a man who really knew how to work a cock and demand what he wanted. Gage still found his arousal, but with a bit of fantasy: that everyone José fucked after this would be fucked by part of Gage, too. That every time he flexed or ran a hand through his chest hair, this prime-beef heterosexual stud would know he'd earned his looks on the end of a gay man's cock. And that he'd probably wonder if Gage was really the only man who could drive him to the edge of orgasm like this, make him bed over and moan just like that …

And that was enough, making him groan and shake as his cock stabbed deep, prompting José to gasp and rock back on him, letting him in and opening him up, accepting him entirely—and kicking off what he'd really come here for. As his cock spasmed inside his client, Gage grabbed the wave of pleasure running through him—and shoved it outward into José.

It was like the universe hung still for a moment, this strange quirk or power or blessing giving him as much time as he needed to reach forth and swell the muscles of his partner, mentally caressing the tissue that thickened under his attention. A flush of hair from chest to crotch began to grow in, even in this frozen moment, and it took only a faint flush of his attention to do the same for José's jawline, a conscious smoothing of density across surface area, almost clinical. From this space of eternal inertia, he could change so much—but only push, never “pull.” Well, not while he was on the giving end of things, at least. And everything cost: he knew how much he had in the tank, something that had taken a little while to learn, but was now second nature to him, the same as his ability to sculpt his own body over time to suit his needs or shift one client's donations into another client's delivery. He could feel the beginning strain of his body giving up muscle and closing follicles, especially itchy around his jaw where the skin was more sensitive.

But as he allowed time to reclaim them, the sensation slipped away, and he held José tight by his hips, letting his cock nestle deep as he pulled the man upright, speared on his cock, spread out to watch him claim what he'd paid for.

José was slender, and the mass showed up well on a body without that much muscle to begin with. It rolled across him in slight layers, first just a darkening shade under his pecs as they started to swell, then a pressure against Gage's chest as back muscles filled in. José's hole clenched around him as his thighs pumped up and stayed that way, his calves flexing hard then relaxing back only halfway into new, slack muscle. His abdomen flared into sharp, almost painfully defined bricks that softened as the rest of his core muscles caught up, and a tracery of hair began to fall down the wall of his chest like a tapestry unveiled over a castle wall. José's thick, hooded cock throbbed in midair, somehow still oversized even on this grown, overfilled frame, but he held back, staring at the changes to his body as finishing touches filled in here and there.

For his part, Gage staggered back, feeling deflated and diminished—post-nut clarity, but also true weakness as muscle mass sloughed away, supernaturally transferred to his client. His cock slipped free, but the cum inside José was sublimating away, finishing the last of the changes even as they were no longer physically connected. He'd even completed this process using a condom; whatever his power was, it wasn't physical except in its results. With a shake, Gage stepped into the bathroom to clean himself off a little bit and give José a minute with his new body. He didn't wait too long, though: prior experience told him the process of getting pumped up tended to make a man randy, and left to their own devices, more than one client had blown a wad on the mirror getting off on themselves when they should have been stepping up for round two. José was cupping his pecs and making poses in the mirror when Gage stepped back into the hotel room.

“How you feeling, stud?” Gage's voice hadn't risen, this time. That was tricky, unless he was altering his larynx or height. But José still looked at him and had a moment of shock and surprise. Their transformations had a weird symmetry—muscle gained for muscle lost, hair granted for smoothness in its place. Gage was still taller, and had packed plenty of extra muscle before leaving for this job, but the mass was still obviously missing from his body. His body hair was thinner now too, and his beard less dense.

“Dude, it's amazing.” José chuckled, and Gage did not miss that his cock jumped as his eyes roved across their changed bodies. “I feel … powerful. Pumped.”

“That was the deal.” Gage grinned, then stepped forward into his client's personal space again. He was still looking down, slightly, to meet José's eyes, but the space between them was balanced now, full with electric potential. Though he'd just shot his load, his cock twitched when it slapped against the thick pole jutting from the Latino's crotch. “How about you take it for a spin on my ass?”

“Fuck yeah.” José breathed, eyes wide like he'd taken a whole cartload of drugs. “Fuck, I could cut glass with my cock right now.”

Gage reached down to grope it gently. It was slick with precum, the loose skin moving freely at his touch. He knelt down, gently kissing along the muscles he'd just given away, nuzzling for a moment at José's newly sensitive nipples—that always happened to guys when their pecs popped out, something about the nerves being forced to the surface. Kneeling also helped shape his client's attention to the meaty globes of his ass, spreading and flexing slightly as he sank down the Latino's body and reverently suckled at his cock, licking across his balls and letting the tower of hard, furnace-hot meat slide and rub along his cheek.

“Dude, you are—you are really good at this.” José panted, hands flexing at his side. “Like, wow, fuck.”

“We're getting to that bit,” Gage murmured, making sure to blow gently across the dense thatch of pubic hair caged around his client's cock. Another few inches always felt good, especially when it was growing on him. He'd enjoy a bit of extra foreskin length, too, and that could be hard to find among his clients. “You ready to put this thing in me?”

“I—yeah, yeah, I am. Get up on all fours, bit… just, on the bed, man.” José pointed, and Gage didn't break the moment to ask him why he'd almost been called a bitch. Perhaps because José himself had just been whimpering on the business end of a cock mere minutes before. It didn't matter to Gage: he was about to get fucked and he'd take his tip in inches and some color in my cheeks. He slipped up on the bed and arched his back a bit, letting his muscles pop and his ass flex a bit. If José hadn't taken to getting fucked, he might have kept his legs together and played more femme, but he much preferred letting a man let go and conquer him, especially after giving away so much mass and muscle. It worked, too: behind him José let out a low whistle, ending in a quiet “… fuck.”

Gage felt the bed move beneath him as the Latino knelt behind him, and angled his head slightly to watch through his own legs as José's cock rested against his crotch—stretching so far past that it slid past his own half-chubbed cock. He flexed a bit as his client's hands roamed across his back and hips, then gently, hesitantly spread his cheeks to expose his hole. He'd lubed up in the bathroom, not that José knew that, but it was still a pleasant surprise to hear the spit and feel a warm wetness slide down the cleft of his ass.

“I'm prepped for you, man. Trust me, I can take it.” Gage declared, and watched as the massive column of fuckmeat resting against his thigh slowly withdrew, like a pneumatic press drawing back in preparation of crushing something to wreckage. He should be terrified, but he'd taken bigger—both in his ass, and in claimed inches from a mouthy, demanding jock's cock. Men into size humiliation were good for that, especially if they were burdened with more inches than they really wanted. “Just rest there for a minute, then push slowly, then rest. Like I just showed you.”

“Fuck, it's so—” José groaned, and Gage forced himself to relax as the first breach through his hole hit his body like a brick to the face. The handicap of a monster cock was real; he mentally gave a shout-out to any woman that had come back to this for a second round, even a week later. “Holy shit, you're so tight.”

“Easy, there. Just a second.” Gage felt himself stretching around it, the blunt mass inside him pulsing slightly. His body was more flexible, more pliable than anyone he'd ever met; but the man behind him had some serious girth. “Fuck, you sure you don't want me to take a little girth, too?”

“Nah,” the Latino chuckled behind him. “I might not be a pro like you, but I know women love feeling full like this.”

“No kidding. Whew. Okay, ready for a bit more.” José leaned forward a little, and Gage groaned as about half the length of that monster bored into him in a slow, even push. “Holy fuck—shit, dude. Yes. Whoa.”

“Told ya,” and Gage looked over his shoulder to confirm the confident, almost cocky grin on his client's face. He felt his cock roaring back to fullness and resting against his belly like a rocket, leaking precum as his prostate got shoved out of the way of José's pleasure inside him. “You ready for more?”

Gage nodded, and groaned as another few inches plowed into him. It felt like there wasn't enough space left in his body to inhale again, and he coughed breathlessly for a second as José came to rest. For a second they just hung there, Gage speared open and shivering, his ass flexing involuntarily around the john's cock, their balls resting against each other with humid, furnace heat and a slick of sweat and lube and precum flushed across them. The cock inside him was like a branding iron, pumping warmth into his core, and he groaned as José began to gently pull it back, its girth rubbing along his prostate and sending shockwaves of pleasure through him as it went.

They both knew he was ready for what came after: the slow withdrawal becoming a modest back-and-forth, with the promise of more, harder, faster, deeper on a gleaming wet horizon ahead. Gage gave himself over to it, enjoying the ride as José started climbing mountains of ecstasy inside him. He really was wasted on the straights, he could throw good dick. It didn't take long for Gage to bring him to the edge, though: between the coursing lust of new muscle and the feel of an expert split open on the business end of his cock, there was no way José was in for a long session on top.

“Fuck—oh, fuck, fuck!” the newly muscular Latino moaned, and Gage felt the flash of his client's orgasm hit just as he clenched himself just right around his cock. The process was similar to when he was donating physical attributes, but slightly different: once again, he was suspended in time and completely aware of José's body, roaring in the crash of pleasure as his balls clenched and dumped a load inside him. If he had wanted to, he could have ripped up all the muscles and hair he'd just given away, filling his frame out again more, leaving José a slender, hairless twink. The temptation was always there, to take instead of just give, but he ignored it. This wasn't a grudge fuck.

Instead he pulled gently, faintly, letting his mind remember the exact shade of skin tone José had wanted, letting melanin bloom slightly across his own skin as it muted inside his client's. He didn't need to see José's cock to perform that manipulation: he could feel every square inch of it inside his body, and in this state he knew it better than the back of his own hand. He drew down the length José had asked for, then moved to the slightly trickier process of modifying the other man's foreskin. At first he just shortened it, thinning out the thick layer of flesh and letting the frenulum dissolve into the skin around it. Then he gently, carefully shortened it, then did so again, until all that remained was skin flush against the thick girth still planted inside him.

He lay suspended in that space for a moment, completely aware of José's body in a way that transcended almost any other kind of physical intimacy, then let it pass. Time flowed back to them both, with José groaning and still plunged deep into Gage's ass. The process was quick on him: Gage knew that his client's cock had probably jumped in sensitivity even while peaking in orgasm, and changing skin tone was usually painless or almost unnoticeable until they caught themselves in a mirror. But on Gage, the change was gradual, just like it had been for José.

And damn, did it feel good.

His cock grew slowly, then all at once, like an erection rushing that didn't end until it slammed headfirst into the cushioned bedspread. Then the flush of new length and thickness on his foreskin as it slid forward, from a snug fit to a long, loose overhand practically hanging off the end of his cock like an animal's sheath. He felt a surge of lust ripple across his body and let himself ride it, one hand rushing down to give one, orgasmic stroke across his newly-nine-inches, just barely enough to expose his glans before a tide of cum shot out all over the bed. It made his ass clench down again on José's cock, and the straight man groaned, stumbling back and slipping free.

They sat for a moment catching their breaths, then Gage rolled over, letting the new weight of his cock slap across his thigh. He gave a contented grin to José, who was staring in awe at the ruined hooker before him. His cock was shorter, but still thick, and now the shiny-slick glans was fully exposed, a glob of spent cum slowly leaking from it to dangle over the hotel room carpet. It was hard to tell in the dimmer hotel lighting, but Gage knew that he'd got the skin tone exactly right—his powers were precise about things like that. He wiped away some sweat with his forearm, smiling slightly at the richer tan that his body was expressing with the melanin he'd absorbed.

“How we feeling, José?”

“That was fucking amazing, man,” the client panted. “Like, whoa. I'm a whole new man.”

Gage smirked. “Glad you like it. Gimme a call if you want a tune-up, any time.”

José looked him up and down for a minute, as if contemplating for the first time that he might want a repeat visit. Gage had the feeling he'd be seeing him again.

He'd have to pack on some more mass in the meantime.

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