Quentin

by TreborNawoc   

Unexpectedly transformed by Dylan, newly stretchy Quentin has no idea what to do now. Fortunately Dylan has some ideas.

Quentin woke up, lying in the most comfortable bed he’d ever slept in. The silk sheets felt wonderful against his body. The mattress felt like he was lying on a cloud. He smiled to himself—life was good. Unlike the past...

Quentin had prepared himself for this moment. He knew that signing up to the Cult of Dylan led to one outcome, and one outcome alone. He had nothing to live for. His boyfriend had turned out to be a maniac, who beat Quentin until he was almost dead, then set fire to his family home, killing everyone inside—his mother, father, brother, and himself. Quentin had just managed to be pulled out from the wreckage at the last minute, but still had to go through three years of reconstructive surgery.

He had no family, no home, no money, no purpose...

That fateful day had come. He had joined the ‘program’ and was beginning to bond with some of the other volunteers, even joining them for games. It was during a game that their ‘god’—Quentin laughed at the term, he was not a fanatic like most of the others—came over to them. Quentin looked at the young man, clearly liking what he saw. That taut waist with seemingly endless abdominals, that boyish face with a cute grin, those perfect muscles. He had heard from others that Dylan didn’t like to torment any of his ‘meals’ so would simply swallow them as needed. I suppose in a way that is a small mercy, Quentin thought, after all we did all sign up to this one-way ticket to his stomach.

Dylan walked over and started picking up guys with his super long tongue, grabbing them from the other side of the rugby pitch without any difficulty. Those who were fanatics just fell to their knees, knowing they were about to become ‘one’ with their ‘god’, but Quentin and a few others froze in panic. Dylan looked in his direction and he knew it was his time to go, so he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and fell loose as the tongue wrapped around him and pulled him towards the darkness of the great maw. He thought he would feel pain, but the insides were smooth and lubricated, allowing passage to one of Dylan’s many stomachs without difficulty.

Having reached his final destination, Quentin started to panic, thinking that he was going to be in extreme pain, but something calmed him. He didn’t know what it was, a pheromone or something, but it caused him to drift into a slumber from which he would never wake.

Or so he thought...

Quentin stirred. He was still inside Dylan but was covered in some slimy goo. Why am I still alive? he thought. He was dragged from his dilemma by Dylan’s body pushing him up and out of the stomach. He could feel himself travelling along Dylan’s throat. Something felt different about him though. Wait, he thought, I can see light...

With a splat he ended up on the soft floor. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew he wasn’t alone. He heard a voice behind him...

“Hey, I remember you. Aren’t you Quentin?”

Quentin rubbed his eyes and saw the beauty of Dylan up close. Now I know why he is worshipped by some guys...

“Wait, what happened?” he asked, confused. “I thought I was going to be one of your meals?”

“Well, funny story,” the god-boy laughed, although he did sound nervous...

Dylan had been called away, but the staff had made sure that Quentin had a room to sleep in. And boy did he sleep...

Quentin smiled again. That had been some day. He started it off just waiting to become a meal for a ‘god’, actually ended up being a meal, was transformed into something incredible, and was now waking up from the best sleep he’d had since the fire.

“Hey, sleepy head,” a voice called from the balcony.

Quentin started to shift the duvet to get out, then remembered his new gift. With another cheesy grin, he extended his neck towards the balcony door, a pleasant sound accompanying this manoeuvre, like rubber being stretched. Noticing the balcony door was already open—the staff here are exceptionally stealthy—he stuck his head through the light curtain to see who it was.

With his arms leaning on the balcony rail from the other side, Dylan turned to see Quentin’s head stretch through the curtains. Quentin looked down to see that Dylan’s feet were flat on the ground, even though they were on the second floor of the mansion. How tall is this guy...?

“Good morning,” he said to Dylan, yawning wide.

“About time you woke up,” Dylan joked.

“Eh? It’s only been a few hours,” Quentin replied.

“A few hours? You’ve been out for three days!” Dylan laughed.

Quentin was shocked, and speechless. He started to walk his body towards the balcony, the soft noise accompanying him every step of the way. As he stepped out onto the balcony, completely naked, Dylan whistled his approval.

“So, Q, got any plans?” he asked.

“What, for today you mean?” Quentin replied.

“Well, no. For the rest of your life, I mean?” Dylan said. “After all, you’re no longer a member of the Cult. Do you have anything you’d want to go back to?”

Thinking carefully, Quentin just looked sad and shook his head.

“Aw. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories...” Dylan drifted off.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” Quentin eventually said. “I don’t have any family, no boyfriend, I don’t have a job, so I don’t have any money, and I can’t obviously stay here forever like a bad smell...”

“Em, well, I could help you out on some of those points...” Dylan said, tentatively. “How would you like to work for MultiTours?”

“MultiTours? Is that the hotel company thing?” Quentin asked.

“Yip. We have quite a few resorts now, and keep expanding, so mum and dad are always on the lookout for new staff.”

“Hmmm, I did used to work in hospitality, before, well, everything...”

“Well, if you want, I’m sure I can get you a job at the resort here in town. That way you’re nearby and have friendly faces around you.”

“That does sound tempting. Okay, I’ll do it.”

Dylan offered his right hand, which Quentin took with gusto.

“Great. I’ll go and speak with mum, dad, and Sam just now. You go enjoy get yourself ready.”

Dylan headed off, while Quentin bounced back into his room, his legs stretching further with each step.

Inside his room, Quentin suddenly felt alive for the first time in years. He gave himself a hug and started to relax. As he did, he felt himself getting lower and lower...

Looking down, he realised that his body was so relaxed that he was literally melting into flesh coloured puddle. Panicking a little, he forced himself to solidify, returning to his original shape. Seeing the ease with which he achieved this, he decided to test out his body a little...

He allowed himself to melt again, becoming a fleshy puddle on the floor, but keeping his neck and head solid. Concentrating, he began to slowly move forwards, oozing his way along. With a little more thought, he formed a hand from the flesh and stretched it upwards, further, and further until it touched the ceiling. Seeing that the puddle lost none of its size, he had another idea.

Pulling his hand back into the puddle, Quentin allowed his ‘body’ to start to spread out in all directions. The puddle expanded, but never seemed to lose its consistency, never getting thinner. Eventually, he realised that he had covered the whole floor with his ‘body’. Keeping going, he started to expand himself upwards from all places at once, pulling his head and neck into the puddle. He panicked a bit as he realised that he could no longer ‘see’ but could still feel everything that was going on.

After a few minutes he touched the ceiling. Quentin laughed to himself, causing his body to ripple like jelly, as he realised that he had filled the whole bedroom with himself. Pulling everything back into the centre, he reformed his body back into its natural, human shape.

Stretching his neck to look himself over, Quentin frowned a little.

“No, this just won’t do,” he said to the empty room.

Concentrating, he began to reform his body into one more to his liking, adding muscle where there previously had been fat, including giving himself a ripped 10 pack. He soon reached epic proportions that would make even the biggest bodybuilders feel like a small twig, then realised that it just wasn’t him. Reducing his size to a tall but tight, compact body, but keeping the 10 pack, he smiled, pleased at his work.

His job done, he headed for the shower, looking forward to the new feelings that strong jets of water will have on his new rubbery body.

Yes, he thought to himself, today is truly a new beginning...

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