series: Cursed Thong

The flame of the rose

By WIP Topping  Website
More Like This

• Latest update: 9 November. Next update: 23 November. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest post: Saturday Flashback: No Shirts, No Problem.

• Latest from BRK: “Pool party”, Parts 1‑2.

 

“Real funny, asshole!” Brody held up the flimsy lime green thong before tossing it at Tyrone.

Instinctively, Tyrone caught it and examined it for a second before throwing to back at Brody. He teased, “Aw, dude, but it’s your color!”

Brody let it fall on the bench, refusing to touch it. He couldn’t help leaning over to examine it, though, when he saw a little tag that he’d missed. He wrinkled his nose disgustedly. “And what is ‘Brody—Set yourself free, girl!’ supposed to mean?”

Tyrone shrugged. “I dunno,” he paused before adding, “Girl. I didn’t put it in your locker.”

Brody scowled at him. “Not cool, dude. Seriously, not cool.”

“Brody, I said that I didn’t put it there!” Tyrone explained patiently, pulling his hoodie out of his locker. “It’s one of the other guys playing a joke on you. They’re probably just trying to yank your chain after your comments at practice.”

Ugh, Brody thought, remembering the coach’s disturbing news: The college had recruited that fucking freak, Carl Sanborn, to start as quarterback in the fall. Brody objected strenuously to sharing the locker room with “him”. Everyone knew that Carl had been born a girl. Who cared if “he” was a good quarterback? “He” should be in the girl’s locker room. There was no way that Brody was going to let that...thing...see him naked!

Shaking himself, Brody scowled back at Tyrone. “I know you did it, dude. You’re such a bad liar.”

Tyrone dropped his bag on the bench, annoyed. “Brody, I’m telling you I didn’t put that in your locker. Now just forget about it. It’s obviously someone’s idea of a stupid joke.”

“But...”

“Here,” Tyrone said, grabbing the thong and throwing it in the trash. “Now, are you happy? Let’s go. I’m hungry and I have to study for my physics final.”

Brody grumbled but followed his friend out of the locker room.

The thong was on his pillow when they got back to their apartment that night. Brody snatched it up and marched into the living room to confront Tyrone.

“Tyrone! What the fuck? Stop it!” He threw the thong across the room. It landed in a little pile on the sofa next to Tyrone.

Laughing, Tyrone tossed it back at him. Brody let it drop at his feet, nonplussed.

When Tyrone didn’t say anything, Brody prompted, “Well?”

“Well, what? Why did you pull it out of the trash? You must really like it.”

Brody puffed himself up, insulted. “Fuck you! I didn’t! It was on my pillow just now.”

Tyrone guffawed. “Really?”

“Tyrone, this is not funny.”

“Dude, I’m telling you I did not put that thong in your room.”

Brody stared at him, amazed at what a bad liar Tyrone was. “Then who did?”

Tyrone shrugged, unfazed by his accusatory tone. “I don’t know but I’ve been with you all day. When would I have had a chance to sneak into your room?”

Brody thought about that. Tyrone did have a point. He and Tyrone had the same schedule on Wednesdays. But, if Tyrone hadn’t done it, who had? The hair on the back of Brody’s neck stood up. “Dude, this is too weird! And uncool. Does someone have a key to our place?”

“Alison does,” Tyrone said, casually reaching for the remote to turn on their big screen television. “Do you think she’s playing a joke on you?”

“Dude, Alison is in Laos until October!”

Tyrone yawned, settling back on the couch and putting his big feet on the coffee table. “How am I supposed to keep her schedule straight, dude? Maybe she gave it to Andre before she left.”

Andre.

Andre! Brody jumped as if stung. That explained it! Alison had given the key to her faggot roommate before leaving town. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the apartment and down the hall to pound on the door to Andre and Alison’s apartment. There was a long pause before he heard the sound of someone pulling back the chain on the door. The knob turned and Andre stared out at Brody sleepily.

“Brody, what...?”

Brody didn’t wait. “Give me back the key, asshole!” he spat, practically shouting.

Andre blinked at him. “Huh? Key?”

It was all Brody could do to stop from grabbing him. “The key to our apartment! I know that Alison gave it to you.”

Andre lifted his hands in the air. “Brody, she didn’t give me anything; I don’t have a key!” He turned to close the door but Brody stuck his foot in it.

Andre turned back to face him, his brow wrinkled. Brody noticed that the little faggot plucked his eyebrows. “If you’re lying...” he began menacingly.

“I’m not lying,” he said calmly. “Now can you please remove your foot from the door? I’m tired and don’t feel like arguing with you.” His voice sounded reasonable. Hesitating for a second, Brody pulled back his foot.

Andre gave him a perplexed look before shutting the door firmly to leave Brody to stew in the hallway. He didn’t believe him. He didn’t! Who else would have gone into their apartment to plant the thong on his pillow? Still pissed, he stalked back to his apartment.

He crumpled up the thong and tossed it in the garbage before going to bed but it was hanging from the knob of his dresser the next morning. Fucking Tyrone! he thought, dropping it back into the trash. Tyrone had to be the culprit. There wasn’t any other explanation. His roommate was playing tricks. After stewing about it for a while, he decided not to confront him. Clearly, Tyrone enjoyed getting a rise out of him and he was playing into his hands by reacting so stridently. It galled him but Brody kept silent. He had other things on his mind. Today was the last day of exams and he had to do well on his general chemistry final or he would lose his football scholarship. Giving his roommate the side eye, he got ready and headed out.

Brody was lucky. He passed all of his exams and kept his scholarship. He and Tyrone celebrated with the guys, getting raging drunk before being tossed out of the bar. They stumbled back to their apartment, singing at the top of their lungs and laughing like idiots. Both guys had terrible hangovers the next morning and Brody was glad that he didn’t have to be to work until late that night.

Waking after eleven, he pulled himself blearily out of bed and stumbled out of his room to take a piss. He had his hand on the door to the bathroom when he heard a low whistle. Turning, he saw Tyrone leaning over the kitchen table, a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth.

His roommate gave him a big smile. “Looks like somebody likes his thong! I wondered how long it would take you to try it on.”

Brody froze. Very slowly, he lowered his head to look down at himself. His dick and balls were encased (barely) in the extraordinarily tight and revealing thong. He squawked and dodged into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and tearing at the thong, the sound of Tyrone’s laughter ringing out behind him.

After he had fought his way out of the thong, he leaned against the door, panting. It took a while but gradually he became aware of the fact the doorknob was pressing into the cleft of his bare ass and he pushed himself upright. The obscene thong was lying in tatters on the floor. He kicked at it before grabbing it and tossing it in the toilet. He pissed all over it and then flushed it down the drain. He was shaking with rage by then and only barely managed to control himself. He so wanted to run out of the bathroom and strangle Tyrone. The thought of his roommate undressing him and putting that thong on his naked body while he slept was beyond disturbing; it was deranged. Why was Tyrone doing this to him?

Taking a shower helped to calm him a little but he refused to talk to Tyrone, opting to get dressed and go out to breakfast rather than hang around the apartment. He wanted to get as far away from Tyrone as possible. Tyrone was a huge dick.

Andre waved to him when he walked into the diner on the corner. Brody didn’t really feel like talking to the little homo but all of the other tables were full and his stomach was empty. He needed to eat! Acting cool, he sauntered over to the table and pretended like he was uncertain when Andre invited him to join him.

“Oh, come on, Brody! Just sit down,” Andre said, rolling his eyes. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together this summer so you might as well get used me.”

Brody reluctantly slouched down in the booth, giving him a confused look.

Andre laughed. “Didn’t you see the schedule? You’ve been moved over to Double Deuce for the summer.”

“Double Deuce...” he started to say and then remembered that was the big bar that his company owned in the heart of the gay ghetto. He straightened and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Flicking through his email, he groaned. It was true; the bartender at the Deuce had been fired and his manager was putting Brody in his place. Shit.

Shit!

His dismay must been obvious because Andre laughed out loud. “Cheer up, girl! You could be a lowly dancer like me. At least the tenders rake in the tips,” he paused before winking and adding coquettishly, “especially if you dress appropriately...”

Brody flushed crimson. “Don’t ever fucking call me ‘girl’ again,” he spat but this only served to heighten Andre’s amusement.

“Whatever you say, girl.”

“Fuck you.”

Andre laughed again. “Listen, girl, I know you’re saving to visit Alison in Laos. If you play this thing right, you’ll be swimming in cash by the end of the summer.” He paused to bat his eyes at him. “I will teach you everything I know, girl.”

Brody suddenly realized he wasn’t hungry anymore; in fact, he felt quite ill. He didn’t even have it in him to bridle at Andre’s continued insulting use of the term ‘girl.’. Shit, he was going to have to look for a new job! Fuck! There was no way he was going to be caught dead serving drinks in a gay bar. Fuck fuck fuck!

When the waiter showed up, he debated leaving but ended up ordering anyway. He sat in stony silence while he waited for his food but Andre didn’t seem to notice. The little fag spent the entire time babbling on about the Deuce. Horrified, Brody was thoroughly convinced by the end of the meal that he needed to do whatever he could to find a different job ASAP.


Brody showed up for his shift at the Deuce that night filled with dread. He’d spent the day updating his resume and sending applications everywhere that looked promising. In the end, he’d decided that he would continue working for the current company until he found something. Andre was right; he needed the money.

He hadn’t expected to get patted down by security when he arrived but was reminded by the bouncers that they weren’t taking any chances after the massacre at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando. He protested when the big guy fondled his crotch but the guy only laughed, saying, “Well, I had to make sure that thing wasn’t a weapon!” Brody pushed his hands away and shoved past him.

The bar was three levels with multiple dance floors and an open-air patio. He was glad he’d arrived before the place opened because otherwise he would have gotten lost. Even so, it took a while to find his bar on the second floor near a balcony overlooking the patio. He’d been assigned to shadow a towering hulk of a guy named Bart who looked like an overgrown leprechaun. Thankfully, Bart turned out to be straight, a fact which helped put Brody at ease.

“Yeah, just chillax, bro,” Bart said reassuringly. “I was like you when I started here, too, but it’s seriously chill.” (Apparently, Brody thought mordantly, it’s really chill here.) Bart paused to survey Brody appraisingly. “You should wear something else tomorrow night, though. The dudes here tip better if you wear tight shit.”

Brody cleared his throat, looking down at himself and back at Bart. It was true: Bart was wearing basically the same thing that he was—jeans and flannel shirt—but, whereas Brody’s clothes were loose, Bart’s were a couple sizes too small for his huge frame. The big guy winked as he crossed his arms causing his huge pecs to push out provocatively. Lowering his gaze, Brody flushed when he noticed that Bart’s jeans were straining to contain his meaty thighs.

“Get it, dude?” Bart teased. “We’re just like chicks in a straight bar. Play it up!”

Brody was about to respond when he heard a squeal behind him. Turning, he did a double take when he saw Andre coming at him. Holy shit! he thought, trying to pull away but he was too late. Andre grabbed him in a tight hug, exclaiming, “BROOOOOODDDDYYYY!”

“I see you know each other,” Bart commented wryly, raising a fuzzy red eyebrow.

Brody was attempting to extricate himself from the faggy dude’s grasp. “Andre,” he said warningly but the little guy just giggled.

“Aw, I knew you’d show up, girl! I wore my favorite thong just for you!”

Brody’s felt his face grow hot. Andre was wearing only a tiny purple thong and pressing himself insistently against his thigh. He didn’t want to know this but he could tell from the...bulge...pushing into his leg that the dude was hung for someone so small and skinny. Andre’s burnished dark skin was well oiled, his afro was done up in little bantu knots, and he’d dowsed himself with glitter. Brody was mortified when he finally pulled away and saw that more than a little of the glitter had rubbed off on him and was quite resistant to removal no matter how much he brushed at himself. He glanced up and noticed Andre and Bart were clearly enjoying his discomfort. They burst out laughing when he straightened up and scowled at them.

“Don’t worry, girl! I’ll stop by regularly to check up on you,” Andre drawled. “I wouldn’t want you to get lonely.”

“Oh, Andre,” Bart added wickedly. “You know that there is no way that Brody will be lonely here! Shit, he’s gonna have to beat the boys back with a stick tonight.”

Snickering, Andre waltzed off, swinging his bare ass salaciously.

“Dude, you seriously need to chill,” Bart said after he’d gone, seeming to feel bad for freaking him out. “The dudes here are cool. Super cool. They’ll hit on you, sure, but it’s no big deal. You got the bar between you and them. It’ll be fun. Now let’s get to work.”


“So how was the Deuce?” Tyrone asked when he got home that night. His roommate was sprawled out on the sofa watching an episode of Orange is the New Black. “Shit, you smell like a flower, dude! Do they make you wear perfume?”

“Fuck you, Tyrone,” Brody growled. He was ready to kill Andre. The homo had doused him with cologne when he wasn’t looking and he’d had to put up with the stink all night.

“Aw, come on, bud! I’m just teasing. Actually, it smells kinda sexy.”

Brody grimaced and stalked into his bedroom, slamming the door. The night had been completely shitty. The music had been too loud and too, ugh, gay. Worse, he’d barely made any money in tips and the clientele had been...grabby...to say the least. He felt demoralized and had almost tendered his resignation on the spot. Vowing to find another job, he decided he would call his manager and ask to be reassigned. If they couldn’t accommodate his request, he’d give his two weeks notice and hope to find something else soon.

He was so worked up that he didn’t notice the lime green thong lying across his pillow until he was getting into bed.


Bart acted surprised when he returned the next night. “Back for more? I was sure you’d call it quits after last night.”

Brody nodded coolly at him. He was there for only one reason: Money. When he’d called, his manager, Julie, had pleaded with him to stay, finally increasing his wage by three dollars an hour when he held out. He was now getting paid more than fifty percent the going rate and it would be difficult to find another tending job that paid as well. Plus, Julie had sworn that she would move him back to his regular bar as soon as possible. ‘Two or three weeks tops, Brody!’ she’d said, her voice rising frantically.

Bart smiled at him, unruffled by his bad mood. “Well, at least you took my advice and spiced up your wardrobe. Good choice!”

Andre noticed, too, coming up behind and grabbing his ass. “Fuck, girl! You’ve got it going on!”

“Shut the fuck up, Andre!” Brody swatted his hand away. He was already regretting his choice to wear the little pair of khaki shorts he’d found in the back of his dresser drawer. He didn’t know why he still had them; the last time he’d worn them was back in high school and he’d put on over forty pounds of muscle since then. It had taken a lot of effort to squeeze into them.

“And that shirt really rocks your tits, bro,” Bart added, winking.

Yeah, Ok, so he’d worn a fitted t-shirt. What was the big deal? He’d decided that if he was going to be at the Deuce—temporarily—he’d work it to his advantage. He needed to save at least five grand in order to afford that trip to Laos.

“I’ll tell you what, girl,” Andre whispered, letting his hand slide down Brody’s ass. “I’ll take you out tomorrow afternoon and help you pick out some new clothes.”

Brody swatted his hand away, hissing, “Stop touching my ass, dude! And I don’t need any help. I’m fine.”

Andre crossed his arms and gave him an eloquently skeptical look. (Brody noticed with discomfort that he was wearing a Bike jockstrap and a Cubs baseball cap. It was sports night.) “Oh, girl!” Andre said, speaking with an affected lisp. “You don’t know the first thing about dressing up! I’ll be at your place at two.” With a flip of his head, he sashayed off.

Brody’s appalled glare was enough to make Bart laugh. “Dude, like I told you last night: Just chill out. It’s a fun place to work once you get over being treated like a slab of meat.”


True to his promise, Andre knocked on their door at two o’clock the next afternoon.

“Honey, your boyfriend is here!” Tyrone called out. Brody rolled over in bed, his head pounding. He and Bart had gone out drinking after their shift and he felt like shit.

He groaned and stumbled out of bed, tugging on a loose pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. He fully intended to tell Andre to go fuck himself but the homo put up his hand before Brody could say anything.

“Shhh, girl!” he said, waving with an exaggerated motion. “I know what you’re going to say but answer me this: How much did you make in tips last night?”

Brody stopped, reaching up to scratch his ear. He had such a pounding headache! After a long pause, his brain started working again and he remembered. “Uh, like a hundred bucks or something.”

Andre pursed his lips. “Ok, if you don’t make at least twice that much tonight after I get done with you, I’ll pay for everything you buy today. Deal?”

“Andre, I don’t know...” he started to say but the dude had already grabbed him by the hand and was pulling him toward the hallway.

Brody was barely able to grab his wallet and step into his flip-flops before Tyrone shut the door behind them, saying, “You girls enjoy your shopping trip, Ok?”

Brody glowered back at him and wondered how he’d let Andre talk him into this.


“Turn around and let me see your ass again.” Andre pitched his voice purposely loud so that a couple of young guys nearby turned and stared.

Brody felt his shoulders fall. Andre was obsessed with getting him to wear these stupid skinny jeans. He’d had to fight for over five minutes to pull them over his thighs.

“Girl, we’re almost there, I swear,” Andre prompted him.

He sighed audibly but nonetheless turned around. The whole afternoon had sucked. Completely sucked. Andre had forced him into the most humiliating outfits. His stomach was growling and he still had a fierce headache. The last thing he wanted to do was model a skin-tight pair of jeans for the fucking fruit.

“You’re wearing them too high! Here.” Andre reached out and tugged the waistband of the jeans down his butt. There was a startled pause followed by a low whistle. “Oh, girl! If you wear that tonight you’ll make triple your usual tips!”

Confused, Brody looked behind him.

Shit! The top of that fucking lime green thong was sticking out of the top of his jeans! But how...? He hadn’t been wearing it earlier...had he? His brain was all cloudy but he was almost positive that he’d been wearing his boxers in the changing room a minute ago. He was staring down at himself in shock when Andre fished a finger under the thin elastic band and, pulling it out, let it go. There was a loud snap and Brody jumped, swatting his hand away. Andre chortled with delight. The two guys standing nearby had their hands over their mouths.

“Perfect!” Andre shrieked. “That’s fucking perfect! Wear these jeans, that thong, and this top.” He held out a really tiny black tank top. “The boys will go wild when they see you!”

Brody was already marching back to the changing room, tugging the jeans up over the waistband of the thong. He slammed the flimsy slatted door behind him, fully intending to remove the offending articles of clothing when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Wait.

Now that he saw himself, the jeans did look pretty good on him. They were tight, sure, but also pretty stylish. He didn’t have any clothes that were this nice. He could see how they might impress the guys at the bar. Andre had slung the tank top over his shoulder before he’d stormed off and, pulling off his t-shirt, he wormed his way into the tight garment. When he managed to squeeze it over his big arms and chest, he checked himself out again.

Yeah, he looked badass like this. Definitely badass!

Ok, maybe he could do this? He liked the way the tank top set off his broad shoulders. The shirt was so small that it left his midriff bare and he smiled at his toned, hairy belly. He looked really tough, he thought as he pulled down on the jeans to expose the top of the thong. Fuck, even the thong looked really masculine on his big man’s body! Not the least bit fruity like he’d expected. No, it looked good. It really drew attention to his narrow waist. He never would have believed it was possible for a thong to look good on a guy but this one did! Turning, he checked out his ass.

Whoa.

He had quite a butt! He hadn’t paid much attention to it before but now that he was wearing the right jeans and—shit!—a thong he had to admit it was a nice ass. For a guy at least. Yeah, there was something really cool about the way the thong peeked out over the top of his jeans. It was so bright and so visible that it really snapped, making it impossible to ignore. Fuck, it wasn’t gay at all! No, if anything, it was the opposite. It showed off how potent and powerful he was. The thong even felt right under the jeans. Why did he have such a strong aversion to wearing it? He laughed when he remembered. It seemed silly now. What was wrong with a guy wearing a thong? It wasn’t like he had to show it off to everyone. No, he could wear a thong and be a normal guy. Sure, why not? And if he chose to let it slip out the top of his jeans when he worked at the Deuce...well, Andre had said it would help him make more in tips. What was wrong with that?

Checking himself out one last time to make sure he wasn’t imagining things (Nope, I really do look studly, he thought with satisfaction), he emerged from the changing room with a confident smile. Andre clapped his hands excitedly when he saw him.

“Girl, you look fantastic! Now all we had to do is get you a haircut and do something about that body hair and you’ll be perfect!”

Brody stopped, smile fading. “Body hair? What do you mean? I like my body hair the way it is.”

Andre frowned. “No, it needs to go. Nobody wants to see that shit! Just think, when you’re smooth, everyone will be able to see you muscles. Right now they’re all covered up!”

“Nope, no way!” Brody said flatly. “I’m not shaving off my body hair.”

“Shaving?” Andre said, brow furrowing. “Good heavens, girl! Don’t shave it off!” Brody relaxed slightly but then tensed again when Andre continued. “Wax it!”

Brody shrank back in alarm. “Wax? No fucking way! Absolutely not!”

Andre raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow. “Well, Ok, girl. But when you change your mind, my friend Jin will help you out.” He dug around in his back pocket before producing a card and holding it out to Brody who hesitated before taking it. He furrowed his brow. It was a business card to a salon.

“Now let’s pay for this stuff and get you a haircut. We have to be to work soon!”


“Damn! Let me look at you!” Bart exclaimed when Brody showed up at the bar that night, Andre in tow. “You’re smokin’ dude!” Brody flushed as Bart turned to Andre. “Do we have you to thank, Mr. Higgins?”

Andre gave him a blank look. “Huh?”

Bart laughed. “He’s the guy in My Fair Lady. They play it here every Tuesday night. It’s my favorite musical.” He stopped, coloring. “Oh, never mind. You look great, Brody. And that fauxhawk is super hip.”

Brody looked down, self-conscious but pleased nonetheless.

Bart continued. “You do need to do something about that body hair, though.”

“You sound just like Andre,” Brody muttered. “What is up with you? Guys are supposed to be hairy. Look at you for chrissake! You’re hairier than I am!”

“All I’m saying, bro, is that if you’re gonna wear an outfit like that, you gotta groom yourself.” Bart motioned to himself. “You see, body hair goes with my lumberjack persona but it doesn’t go with that clubbing attire.”

Brody could feel the back of his neck grow hot as Andre chimed in. “Honey, I already tried to explain that to her back at the store but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Hey! I’m not a fucking ‘she’!” Brody protested. “And don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Chill, dude! Chill!” Bart placated. “That’s just how the dudes talk around here.”

Andre smirked before blowing Brody a kiss and walking off. “I gotta go change, girl. I’ll see you after work!”

Brody was scowling as Bart chucked him under the chin. “Yeah, girl, let’s get moving. We got work to do.”


“So, Brody, how much did you end up making tonight?” Andre asked as they were leaving the bar. Bart had invited him to join them as they headed out to the little bistro that stayed open til 4am down the street.

Brody extricated the cash from his tight jeans pocket with difficulty and flipped through it. Whoa, he’d made a lot! “Two hundred fifty bucks!” he breathed, unable to believe it. It was incredible! He’d never made this much money in one night before!

Bart laughed and Andre gave him a satisfied smile. “I told you, girl! Wearing the right outfit makes a difference. Can you imagine how little I’d make if I walked around serving drinks in a boring old suit and tie? The guys want to see your body!”

Brody nodded. Andre was right. If he brought in this much every night, he’d have plenty of money to visit Alison by the end of the summer.


They stayed at the bistro until it closed, drinking away more than a little of their hard-earned cash. Brody felt good, though. For the first time, he felt like he belonged at the Deuce. Andre and Bart were such great friends.

They were stumbling down the street together when Bart stopped them.

“Hey, guys. I have an idea! Let’s get a tattoo!”

Brody lurched to a halt. He was so drunk that Andre had to grab him to keep him from falling over. When he tried to focus on the Bart’s face, he noticed the streetlights were dancing in the background.

“A tattoo...?”

“Yeah,” Bart said eagerly. “There’s a parlor just across the street and it’s still open.” He reached over and slung Brody’s arm over his shoulder, pulling him along. “I’ve always wanted one and you need one, too, bro!”

Surprisingly, Andre was reluctant. “Nope, no tattoos on my canvas! My body is my temple.” He stopped with his hands on his hips as the two guys wove across the street. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure, see ya!” Bart called out behind him. Brody mumbled something incoherent as Andre shook his head and walked away.

Brody woke up some minutes later slumped in a folding chair in the backroom of the tattoo parlor. Blinking, he tried to focus but his eyes weren’t working right. Finally, with a lot of effort, he realized that Bart was sitting in the chair nearby while a tattoo artist stenciled a four-leaf clover on his bicep. Of course, he thought, the fucking leprechaun is getting a clover leaf tattoo!

“Yo, dude!” his buddy called out. “You’re next! Pick one out from the book on the table.”

Brody stared blearily at him. A tattoo? Him? Naw, not him. But, shit. It wouldn’t hurt to look. Grinning stupidly, he picked up the greasy book and flipped through it. There were an awful lot of interesting designs in there...


“You sure about this, bro? You really want it there?”

Brody nodded. He was lying on his stomach in the chair, his ass up in the air and his jeans pulled down past his crack. The tattoo guy was running a razor across the skin above his butt, cleaning off his hairy pillow.

“Dude, a tramp stamp? Really?” Bart sounded incredulous.

Brody laughed. “Yeah, bro. I’m sure. This is what I want.”

He’d known as soon as he’d seen the picture in the book that this was the tattoo for him: A delicate rose touched with dew in the center of twin vines. It was so macho. So...what was the word the guys used at the bar? Butch? Yeah, it was really butch. It was the kind of tattoo only a really masculine guy would get over his ass. He couldn’t wait!

“I dunno, bro,” Bart cautioned. “I think you should sober up first. This might not seem like such a great idea in the morning.”

Why was the big leprechaun being such a whiny bitch? He grunted, “Fuck you, Bart. I’m ready. I want this. Now.”


He woke up the next day around noon feeling surprisingly good. Sitting up in bed, he flinched a little when he felt the sheets rub against the raw skin on his butt where he’d gotten the tattoo. He turned onto his side and reached down to rub himself. It was sore but not too bad. He smiled as his fingers touched the waistband of the thong. Man, he fucking loved that thong! And, shit, he’d gotten a tattoo! A fucking tattoo! He felt so happy. Happier than he could remember in a long time.

Bounding out of bed, he’d grabbed his shorts and was stepping into them when he remembered that Tyrone was gone for a few weeks to visit his parents. Grinning at this unexpectedly delicious freedom, he dropped the shorts and hurled himself across the hall to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. His heart was pounding in his chest as he turned to look over his shoulder.

Fuck.

God, it was perfect! Perfect!

He couldn’t believe it. Before last night, he’d never thought about getting a tattoo but now that he had one, he knew he’d made the right choice. The rose flowering above his ass looked so fresh, so red, so real! And the thong framed it perfectly. The tattoo guy had even inked in a few extra leaves that pointed down suggestively toward his crack. God, what a tattoo! He now had the manliest butt ever thanks to Bart. He wanted to kiss the big guy for suggesting it.

But.

Wait!

Fuck.

Brody shook his head.

Andre had been right.

He had too much body hair. The tattoo looked funny hovering over his hairy ass. And what would it look like when the hair on his lower back regrew and covered it? Brody shook his head. Now where had he put that business card that Andre had given him?


Jin Shih was not at all who Brody had expected. The guy was tall and lean and serious, though his handsome face broke into a smile when he grasped his hand. Brody had expected a tiny, effeminate Asian queen but this dude was ripped and huge, wearing a very brief pair of white shorts and a nearly transparent white top. The fact that he had no visible body hair only made him look more impressive. Shit, Brody thought taking in Jin’s smooth and muscular grandeur. Maybe I should listen to Andre more often. Maybe I would look better hairless?

“What can I help you with?” Jin was asking, his deep voice pleasantly conversational.

Brody swallowed, feeling awkward. He look around the salon. It was a vast, almost palatial space with a fountain in the center, marble floors, and orchids scattered throughout. Several guys dressed in black, tight-fitting jeans were snipping away at the hair of a row of impeccably groomed clients seated in low-slung chairs.

“I, uh, I...” he started to say but stopped, cheeks coloring.

“You want me to do something about that all that hair, right?” Jin prompted, surveying his body critically. Brody was wearing a pair of white capris, a mauve top, and a pair of deck shoes that Andre had picked out for him yesterday. The capris were low-rise and Brody’s hairy belly was clearly visible beneath the tiny top. Dark hair bristled all over his big arms. Embarrassed, Brody realized as he looked down at himself that he was covered with a carpet of hair from head to toe. Even the tops of his feet were forested with black, scraggly hair. He looked like an ape compared to the elegant Jin.

When he didn’t answer, Jin placed a companionable hand on his shoulder and guided him into a private room. Inside were a chair and table covered with various implements and unguents. A strange-looking machine was positioned nearby. Brody took a seat in the chair, nervous and anxious.

“Look, I can give you a wax today but it will hurt a lot,” Jin said, pausing to lift Brody’s top over his head. Brody froze but then he complied and raised his arms. When the shirt was off, he covered his chest with his hands, feeling ugly and bestial.

“Brody, come on,” Jin tsked. “I’m here to help you. Don’t worry, I’ll make you look good. You have a lot of body under there that is dying to be shown off.”

Hesitant, he lowered his hands into his lap. “Thanks, dude. I mean, I do work out a lot.”

Jin favored him with another rare smile. “I can tell. I’m glad you’re here. You won’t believe the results.” He folded Brody’s top and placed it on the rack behind him. “Now, as I was saying, I could wax you today but you won’t be happy when the hair starts to grow back.”

Brody nodded. He hadn’t really thought about that. All he knew is that he wanted to get rid of his body hair but realized that Jin was right. It would grow back.

“It will itch,” Jin explained. “A lot.”

“Shit,” Brody murmured, crestfallen. He didn’t want to itch!

“That’s why I recommend electrolysis and laser treatments.”

Brody blinked up at him. Electrolysis? Laser treatments? But didn’t that mean...?

Jin was nodding, reading his expression. “With hair like yours, it’s the best option, although it is expensive and it takes a long time. Many sessions over the next few months...maybe even the next year.”

“Dude, I can’t do that!” Brody shouted, appalled. There was no way he was going to let someone burn off and pluck out all of his hair! It would ever grow back! He’d be hairless for the rest of his life! Waxing his body hair was one thing but permanently removing it was another entirely. What would the guys on the football team say when he showed up for practice completely devoid of body hair?

And then there was the money. He needed to save for his trip to see Alison. He didn’t know how much the treatments would cost but, even if one treatment was inexpensive, what about dozens of them?

What the fuck was Jin trying to do to him?

He struggled to get out of the chair but Jin pushed him back down, reasoning, “Brody, don’t worry! I guarantee that you’ll be happier without all of that nasty hair weighing you down. These treatments are popular with guys who want to show off their muscles. Plus, we have really affordable payment plans. And I have an idea that will help you today.”

Feeling overwhelmed, Brody could only stare helplessly up at him.

“I’ll get started on electrolysis today, do some laser treatments on your back, chest, and legs, and then use my special razor to remove the rest of your body hair. Each time you return, I’ll do more electrolysis and laser treatments while reshaving the hair that’s grown back. I promise you that you will delighted with my work.” He bowed modestly, adding, “I am the best in the business, after all.”


Brody stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and, with trembling hands, pulled off his shirt. He did a double take. Shit, was that really him? He looked so...built and ripped! God, he couldn’t believe how his muscles popped underneath his freshly smooth skin. Even better, his skin was flawless and creamy without a trace of irritation from the treatments. That post-treatment gel that Jin gave him really worked!

He flexed, laughing and turning around to check out his back. OMG, his striated lats looked amazing! And that tattoo! Man, his gorgeous new tattoo bloomed fresh and vibrant over the top of his buttocks bulging out of his capris. The little string of his thong dipped down to disappear into his newly-plucked cleft. (Jin had managed to completely remove the hair on his ass with electrolysis in one session!)

Breathlessly, he lowered his capris. Brody had never contemplated his butt before. Yeah, it wasn’t a part of his body he thought much about but, now that it was smooth and hairless, he looked at it with new appreciation. It was so muscular! A real man’s ass! Hmmm...he leaned over and reached back to cup it in his hands, thrilled with how silky and nubile his skin felt. He paused, squeezing his ass cheeks. He loved the feeling of his cheeks but was bothered by one nagging realization: They would be even better if they were just a little fatter and softer. Yeah, big men like him needed big asses. A bigger ass...

Grinning at his foolishness, he straightened up and dropped his hands. What was he thinking? His butt was fine the way it was.

Mostly.

Shaking his head, he turned back to face the mirror and let out a startled whoop as he marveled once again at his smooth body. Jin was right: This was worth every penny! Alison would be so amazed when he surprised her in Laos. She wouldn’t believe how powerful and macho he looked without body hair!

Lowering his gaze, he admired his lower body. His calves were beefy and his quads were pumped-looking. Shit shit shit! Striking a provocative pose, he thrust his hips forward, delighting in the way the sheer thong hugged his manhood.

His cheeks colored when he remembered Jin shaving his crotch and plucking his asshole. He never thought he’d let anyone besides Alison, much less some gay dude, near his dick and butthole. But Jin had been a complete professional, complimenting him and coaxing him. Jin knew exactly that the right thing to say to get Brody to relax.

Jin was a miracle-worker!

Fuck, it was like he had a whole new body! A whole new, incredibly virile body. God, why hadn’t he shaved off all of his hair before? He was now the manliest guy in the world!

Riding high on endorphins, he yanked down the pouch of his thong and pulled out his hard dick, pausing a moment to admire Jin’s handiwork. Shit, his cock looked huge now that all of his pubic hair was gone! He studied it, rolling it around in his hand. Then he stopped, frowning. Yeah, it was big alright. Almost too big. Feeling his erection deflate, he looked over to examine himself in the mirror.

Fuck.

Yeah, his cock was way too big.

It hung out luridly, bobbing and ugly in front of him. It looked completely out of place on his new, smooth body and he felt ashamed. Worse, his tapering foreskin only served to exaggerate his dick size. Shit, why hadn’t his parents had him circumcised like practically every other guy? He and Tyrone were the only men on the team with foreskins. He used to be proud of his skin but now...

Brody hung his head, unable to look at it any longer. Fuck, he didn’t realize he had such a big dick. What was it? Six or seven inches hard? He couldn’t remember exactly because it had been so long since he’d measured it. However long it was, though, it was just too big and he hated it. Defeated, he shoved it back inside the pouch of the thong, wishing he could do something about it. Shit, he would a total stud if it weren’t for his big, ugly cock.


Before working out, Brody had an idea and stopped by one of the stores that Andre had taken him to the day before. He remembered seeing a whole rack of underwear with a section devoted entirely to thongs. Trying to be surreptitious, he picked out several that had the smallest pouches. He might not be able to do anything to make his dick smaller but, if he wore a thong that was tight enough, it would compress his package down to a more seemly size. Swiping his Visa and ignoring the flirtatious sales clerk, he scurried off to the gym clutching the bag of thongs under his arm.

He had the best workout of his life that day, glorying in the envious stares of the other guys as they took in his supreme new hairless physique. In the crowded locker room, he’d stuffed his package into a tiny blue thong and pulled up a pair of white mesh shorts that rode low, exposing his magnificent tattoo and the string of the thong on his butt. His blue, mesh top was cut like a faux football jersey, exposing his abs and tapered waist. “Tight End” was emblazoned on the back along with the number 69. He’d complained when Andre had picked it out, protesting that he was a center, not a tight end, but Andre had a put a warm hand on his arm, saying, “It’s you, girl. Trust me.” Now that he was wearing it, he had to agree.

The only weird thing was when the guy next to him on the bench press called him a big faggot.

Brody slammed the bar down and marched over to the man, waving his finger in his face. “Listen, bitch,” he’d hissed, “I’ll fucking scratch your eyes out if you call me that again!”

The dude had narrowed his eyes and looked over to his buddy who shrugged and rolled his eyes. Brody glared menacingly back at him. There was a long, tense silence before the dude smirked and stalked off, calling out over his shoulder, “Whatever, Tinkerbell.”

Brody started to bridle but caught himself, thinking, ‘Tinkerbell?’ Struck with sudden inspiration, he couldn’t get out of the gym fast enough. He was going to make another stop at that tattoo parlor before work!


That night, Brody didn’t even mind being fondled by the bouncers as he went through security. He was just so excited to be back at the Deuce! Shit, the clients were going to stuff him full of dollars by the end of the night, he knew it! He leaned forward, letting the bouncer run his meaty hand between his legs. The dude’s fat finger paused before gently caressing his butthole through the tight-fitting sailor uniform he had on.

Brody giggled as the guy exclaimed, “Thar she blows!”

He playfully batted the man’s hand away, leaning forward in a little cheesecake pose. A chorus of admiring whoops greeted him and he blew the guys a kiss before tilting his little white cap and sauntering away.

Andre was stepping into a pair of red hotpants in the changing room when he found him. Shit, Brody thought as his gaze landed on the enormous cock dangling between his friend’s thighs. He’s bigger than Tyrone! He shook himself then, wondering where that thought had come from. He was so distracted that it took him a moment to remember why he’d come there. Oh, yeah! The tattoo!

Pink with excitement, he popped the top button on his pants and pulled them down, shouting, “Look, Andre! Look!”

There was sharp intake of breath before Andre exclaimed, “Oh, girl! I love it!” His friend danced up and down, clapping his hands together and drawing Brody into a tight hug.

“It’s Tinkerbell,” Brody added unnecessarily. The little fairy was positioned below his hips on his crotch, her magic wand pointing directly toward his...

“And you saw Jin, I see,” Andre intoned, pulling away long enough to take in the sight of his smooth, hairless body. “You look terrific, girl! I’m so proud!”

Brody beamed. “Yeah, he’s great. I’m so glad you recommended him.” He was about to button up his pants when he remembered the rose tattoo over his butt. He turned and bent over, pointing at his ass.

“Tender is the rose,” Andre breathed, tracing his finger over its delicate outline and causing Brody to shiver. Suddenly self-conscious, he straightened up and fastened his trousers all the while very aware of the smoldering look that Andre was giving him.

“Well,” he said hurriedly, “Gotta run! Bart is expecting me.”

“Aye aye, mate!” Andre teased behind him as Brody closed the door. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.


“Wow. You look, um, different,” Bart commented when he appeared at the bar, breathless and red-cheeked. “You’re really embracing your role here, dude.”

Brody gave him a mock salute and Bart shook his head.

“You might want to tone it down a little bit, though,” the big man warned. “You don’t want the guys around here to get the wrong idea. Things will get weird if you lead them on.”

“What do you mean?” Brody challenged, the jaunty smile on his face fading slightly. “You said to wear tight clothes and suggested that I shave. Shit, even the tattoo was your idea!”

“Uh, yeah, but I didn’t tell you to get a tramp stamp,” Bart muttered, eyes landing on Brody’s waist. Tinkerbell’s head and wings were clearly visible in the gap between his striped, scoop-neck shirt and bell bottoms. “And what’s with the fairy? I thought you only got one tattoo last night.”

Brody pushed his cap forward on his head, smiling proudly. “I just got her! Isn’t she fabulous?”

Bart gave him a funny look. “Oh, she’s fabulous alright. A little too fabulous.” He reached out and put a heavy arm across Brody’s shoulder. “Brody, listen. I’ll talk to Julie if you like. I think I can get her to agree to move you to a new bar.”

Brody pulled away, stung. “What? No! Why? I like it here. The Deuce is like home to me now!”

Shaking his head, his friend sighed. “That’s what worries me, Brody.”


Despite the weird interaction with Bart, Brody had the best night ever at the Deuce. Tips poured in. Shit, guys were even reaching over the bar to jam wads of bills into his pants. He danced around the bar, shaking his hips to the pulsing beat of the music and playing it up. Before long, he was completely drunk on all of the attention. After close, he and Andre headed off to a gay club that stayed open late and danced like crazy. Bart waved them off as they left, shaking his head.


Brody was leaving his appointment with Jin when he paused outside a clinic located in the same building as the salon. There were a bunch of pictures of guys posted on the windows and he idly tugged on the rings dangling from his newly pierced nipples as he examined them. (He and Andre had gone out shopping the day before when Brody had impulsively decided to stop and get pierced.) It took a second of staring at the pics before he realized that they were “before and after” photos. The clinic was a plastic surgery center and the pictures were meant to advertise the results of their work.

Shit, he thought, I had no idea there were so many possibilities! The photos of the guys with collagen lip injections grabbed his attention the most. Wow, what would it be like to have really plump, luscious lips? He licked his lips and couldn’t help but notice that they seem thin in comparison to the photos in front of him.

Hmmm...should he? He had a big wad of cash in his pocket from the bar. He must have gotten over three hundred dollars in tips last night. These days, he had more cash than he knew what to do with and it was easy to afford all of the hair removal sessions and still have money left over. What else was he going to do with it? He didn’t have anything special he was saving for. He might as well spend it on himself. Fuck, why not? It was time he gave himself a real gift: The gift of a perfect body. You’re only young and hot once, right?

All thoughts of Alison and Laos faded permanently from his mind as he resolutely grabbed the handle of the clinic door. It was Brody time!


His loved his new, plump lips! He realized that standing in front of the mirror was becoming his favorite pastime as he pursed his lips in a seductive moue. A thrill ran down his spine when he saw how sexy he looked. Shit, he really had it going on! His lips looked great with his handsome cleft chin and prominent cheekbones. The stop at the clinic had been so worth it! And Dr. Hauser had been so helpful. She’d spent a lot of time with him, explaining all of her services and telling him to take home a pamphlet and check out the clinic website for more information.

She hadn’t even laughed when he asked her if there was anything she could do about his butt. He’d been embarrassed to ask but then realized if she could make his lips full and sexy, she could probably do the same thing for his ass. Yeah, his ass really sucked. As the days wore on and he was getting more and more accustomed to having no body hair, his narrow butt had really started to annoy him. Oh, how he wished there was a way to make it bigger and fatter! Only then would he have the ultimate man ass, one that really displayed his prowess. One that suited the plethora of thongs he’d purchased. Shit, his butt cheeks were so disappointing!

Not for long, though.

No, not for long. That very day, he’d made an appointment to have the procedure that the doctor recommended and was delighted when she been able to schedule it for his next day off. She said they could remove fat from his hips and other places (he was pretty lean but there was a little more padding here and there than he liked) and move it down to his ass. Between that and some other cosmetic changes, she assured him that he would have a perfect bubble butt with almost no recovery time. He wouldn’t even need to miss work! He felt like pinching himself. He was the luckiest guy in the world!


“What do you think? Do you like it?”

He looked away from the mirror, over to Dr. Hauser, and back again. He couldn’t believe it. He was speechless.

“It’s...It’s...” he tried to say but couldn’t finish. It didn’t seem possible. She had given him the biggest, fattest, most perfect ass imaginable. Unable to stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes. He wiped them away, gushing, “Oh, thank you, doctor! Thank you!”

She nodded, smiling. “I think that’s my best work yet.”

“I agree,” he stated emphatically, unable to take his eyes off his magnificent ass. “I agree.”

“Now, unless there’s anything else you want to schedule, you’re free to go and enjoy yourself.”

With those words, Brody’s gaze fell down to his crotch. He wrinkled his nose as he noticed again how ridiculously big his package was. “Well, there is one last thing,” he began haltingly. “But you’re gonna think I’m crazy...”


That night, Brody was on cloud nine. He grabbed Bart and gave him a big hug as he jumped up and down in excitement.

“Easy boy, easy,” Bart said, laughing. It was subtle but the big man’s demeanor had changed over the last couple of weeks and he now treated Brody just like Andre. Usually, it irritated Brody because it felt like Bart was being patronizing but tonight he didn’t care. Dr. Hauser was going to make his dream come true!

“Bart, I’m going to take a few days off,” he started to say but his friend cut him off.

“Wait? What is that on your bellybutton?”

Brody glanced down in annoyance. He was so excited that he’d forgotten about his latest piercing. A studded pendant dangled down from his bellybutton, brushing the top of his skinny jeans. Before he could stop him, Bart had reached down and lifted it up.

“‘Bitch’?” he read, squinting. “Does that really say ‘bitch’?”

Brody flushed. Yeah, the word ‘bitch’ was spelled out with gaudy pink rhinestones on the pendant. He slapped Bart’s hand away, exclaiming, “Yes, now just forget about that! I wanted to tell you that I’m taking a few days off starting tomorrow.”

Bart straightened. His cheeks were flushed red. He shook himself before responding, “Uh, Ok. Did you find someone to cover your shifts?”


It was done.

Brody was holding his hands over his eyes as he stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. The doctor had removed the bandages earlier that day but he hadn’t the nerve to look at the results of her work. He was too anxious and needed to wait until he was alone. Tossing the bandages away, she’d carefully pulled his underwear up over his tender package and helped him zip up his jeans. His hands were trembling when he shook her hand. He couldn’t believe it was over! He couldn’t believe he actually had it done! The drive home had been difficult. He felt every little jolt and bump vibrate through his crotch.

He sighed.

An errant breeze wafted through the bathroom and he shivered when it caressed his privates. Standing there, he could feel his new heavier butt hanging down behind him and it thrilled him. The air on his smooth, hairless skin was enough to send shivers up his back. Belatedly, he realized he couldn’t stop shaking.

Ok, he had to do it. He had to look.

Now.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and almost passed out.

Fuck, it was real! It was really him! She had really done it!

He was so happy.

He finally was the man he wanted to be.

He had the perfect body now.

Grinning from ear to ear, he reached down and gingerly touched his much smaller penis. The circumcision scar was red around his glans but it was barely swollen. With the excess skin removed from his sac, his balls were now pulled up tight against his short shaft. Lifting the tip, he guessed the doctor had been able to remove at least three inches in length and his little cock now stuck out barely more than an inch or two from his hairless pubes. He wouldn’t be able to jack off for another couple of weeks but he couldn’t wait to find out what the experience was like. Before, he’d used his whole hand. Now, he’d probably only need a couple fingers!

Shit! He cringed as he started to get hard. God, that hurt! He abruptly pulled up his favorite little lime green thong to cover himself, noting with satisfaction how his tiny member now barely poked out against the tight fabric.

Brody felt like laughing. He couldn’t wait to show Andre!


“One, two, three, hike!” Brody yelled as he tossed the ball to the new quarterback, Carl Sanborn. Carl caught it effortlessly and threw a masterful pass more than thirty yards to an open teammate. The running back sped across the field and scored a touchdown before the opposing team could close on him. The crowd cheered wildly and Brody whooped as he ran up to hug Carl.

“You did it!” he yelled. “We won!”

Carl returned his hug and they jumped up and down for a while before Carl stopped to pull his helmet off and shake his shaggy mane. Sweat droplets showered over Brody’s face and he grinned. Carl was so handsome!

“I think it’s the tattoo on your ass, Brody,” he commented slyly. “I see it every time you bend over and all I can think of is...”

Brody flushed, feeling his cheeks color. There was a long pause before Carl completed his sentence.

“...winning the Rose Bowl,” he said finally, giving Brody an evil wink.

“I’ll bet that’s what you’re thinking,” Tyrone commented behind them. “You two seriously need to get a room.”

Carl laughed. “We have a room. In your apartment, ‘Rone.”

Tyrone shook his head in mock disgust before lifting his head to the heavens. “Why, Lord? Oh, why did I get stuck with the two fruitiest football players in the world?”

“Because you love us,” Brody said, wiggling his big ass at his roommate. He yelped the next moment when Tyrone reached out and slapped it.

“Careful, ‘Rone,” Carl warned. “That’s my girl. Her ass is mine and mine only.”

Brody looked down at the ground, absurdly proud. He fucking loved Carl Sanborn!


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