This is the prologue of my new novel, True Pups. Read more here.
Paul knew he shouldn’t stare, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off his best friend’s dick.
Victor was wearing the tightest low-cut fuck-me jeans that Paul had ever seen. The denim bulged obscenely around the outline of Victor’s cock, showing off his package to everyone else on the subway who happened to glance over at the two men.
They were riding downtown with no particular destination in mind that night — maybe crawl a few gay bars, try to get a few phone numbers, and if they didn’t have any luck, they could always fall back on their usual Plan B: retire to Paul’s place and jerk off together.
If Paul was to be honest, that was secretly his Plan A. He loved watching Victor’s cock harden, his balls bouncing as he pumped himself to orgasm. There was something intoxicating about the smell of Victor’s sweat that just drove him crazy.
“Like these jeans?” Victor said, breaking Paul’s trance. The two men were sitting side-by-side on the train as it bumped its way downtown.
“Oh! Yeah, they’re … tight,” Paul stammered. Did Victor know how he felt about him? Paul was never sure. They didn’t talk about that kind of thing.
“They’re super tight,” Victor said. “Feel how hard they’re pressing my dick.” And without waiting for permission, he grabbed Paul’s hand, placing it firmly on the cock outlined in the pants. Paul stiffened in a panic — someone would surely notice! — and to his embarrassment, he felt his own cock hardening. Paul quickly crossed his legs to try to hide his hard-on.
Victor slid Paul’s hand down lower, pressing Paul’s palm against the inner thigh of Victor’s lap. It was slightly damp. “The only downside is, I sweat like a motherfucker when I’m wearing them,” Victor said. He released Paul’s hand, and before he could stop himself, Paul lifted his fingers up to his nose to sniff.
Victor smirked. “You like the smell?” he said.
Paul nodded, blushing.
“Tell you what,” said Greg. “You’re in charge of getting us laid tonight. If we can both find hot guys to hook up with, I’ll let you borrow these pants.”
Paul bit his lip. He knew he wouldn’t fit into them, but that didn’t matter. He just wanted to stick his face in them.
“And if I fail?” he said.
Victor laughed. “I dunno, man,” he said. “Then you have to be my pet dog for a week or something.”
It was the fourth or fifth bar they went into — a new place, or at least new to them. Later, Paul would try to remember the name, or location, or any details about it. But by the time they stumbled through the doors, holding each other up, they were both too drunk to retain much of anything.
“Now this is more like it,” Victor cheered as they entered. There were hot go-go boys up on tables, thrusting their asses in patrons’ faces. The music was loud, the lights dark, and everyone was sloppy drunk.
Paul’s dick had been leaking pre-come all night, and every time he caught a glimpse of Victor’s package or brushed up against it on a dance floor, he yearned to fall to his knees and bury his face in his friend’s crotch. He wondered how Victor would react — would he play along? Or push Paul away?
“Get us some drinks,” Victor called to Paul. “I’m gonna go grab that ass.” He drunkenly wobbled off toward a leather-clad man whose back was to them, broad and thick and wide with muscle.
Paul shook his head and wandered over to the bar, ordering two beers.
“You gonna get naked tonight, pup?” the bartender asked as he popped he caps.
“Oh gosh I dunno,” said Paul, looking around nervously. Everyone was wearing next to nothing, but he was covered in layers of clothes and intended to stay that way.
The bartender laughed, and then spotted he student ID in Paul’s wallet. “You go to school around here?”
“Grad student,” Paul said, handing over cash. “Studying mystical antiquity, along with my friend …” his voice trailed off as he turned. Victor had apparently made a good impression, and was already making out with the leather man. Victor’s arms were wrapped around the leather man’s sides, and Paul could see now that he was wearing just a jacket with no other shirt. He was bearded, dark-haired, and his chest was just as muscular as his broad back suggested.
“Oh, great,” thought Paul, approaching them. He didn’t want to be an interloper, but he needed to deliver Victor’s beer.
The leather man eyed him as Paul approached, though he didn’t break contact with Victor. Their mouths slid against each other, tongues slipping across lips and their noses breathing hot against each other’s faces. Victor’s legs were parted and straddling the leather man’s body, sliding slightly up and down to hump him.
“Hey,” said Paul awkwardly.
Victor turned to look at him. “Hey dude!” he said. “This is Oscar.”
“How are you,” said Oscar, leaning in toward Paul and taking a deep sniff. “You smell good.”
“Oh, uh … do I?” said Paul.
Without a word, Oscar took the two beers that Paul carried and set them down on the table next to them. Victor was still straddling his right leg, rubbing his hard dick against Oscar’s thigh through the denim of his pants and the leather of Oscar’s.
“Come here,” said Oscar, roughly grabbing Paul by the labels and pulling him close. Paul stumbled into him, nearly falling, but Oscar’s grasp was tight and before he knew it Paul was straddling Oscar’s other leg just like Victor. Oscar leaned down and pushed his mouth against Paul’s, not so much kissing him as mauling him with his lips. In a daze, Paul opened his mouth to let Oscar’s tongue roll around his, and he could taste on Oscar’s saliva the remnants of Victor’s brand of breath mint.
“You’re cute,” Oscar sneered at him. “Both of you. But too tense. Loosen up, pups.”
“What do you mean…” Greg started to say, but then a sudden wooziness hit him. He was dizzy and might have fallen if Oscar’s arm hadn’t been wrapped around his waist — how did that get there? — and he couldn’t remember where he was for a second.
“Shiiiit,” he heard Victor gasp from far away. That brought him back to reality, back to the bar, back to find himself held tight and humping the left leg of a leather man while his best friend humped the right.
“Better,” Oscar told the two men. “But you’re both overdressed.”
“He always does that,” Victor said. “Paul, take something off.” He lazily reached out to tug at Paul’s shirt.
“No, I… uh … I think I’ll keep covered,” Paul said, sliding up and down against Oscar’s body. He wanted to stop but it felt so good.
“Take it off,” said Oscar. Something felt dizzy in Paul’s head, like a spiral, and he felt his arms reaching down to pull at his own clothing.
“No,” said Paul, as his hands undid the buttons on his shirt. “It’s too… too much.” He felt the hot clothing fall from his shoulders and drop from his arms to the floor, felt the cool air against his bare chest. He’d never taken off his shirt at a bar before. Were people staring? He was sure they were. This was too intense but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t remember where his clothes had fallen.
“Good pup,” said Oscar. “Now your friend. Undress him.”
“Yes sir,” Paul mumbled. Inside his head, he felt a fleeting thought: “why do I feel so dumb right now?” But then as soon as the words occurred to him, they were gone, and he was crouched down on the dirty bar floor, pulling on the button at the top Victor’s jeans.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Victor’s voice came to him from far away. Paul didn’t know how to answer, but watched in fascination has his fingers fumbled around the top of the jeans. He got the button undone, then pulled on the zipper, and then finally tugged down on the loops of the jeans.
“Okay, enough,” Victor’s voice breezed past him. Paul’s vision was consumed with the sight of Victor’s crotch, revealed as he pulled down the denim. Victor was wearing tight blue briefs, stretched ridiculously around his hard cock and heavy balls.
“Good dog,” said Oscar. “Praise your dog.”
“He’s not a dog, he’s a dude,” Victor said, looking down at Paul in confusion.
“Fuck you,” said Oscar, suddenly annoyed. “You’re both dogs.”
“No!” Victor gasped, suddenly dropping to all fours on the floor. His pants, bunched around his knees, made it difficult for him to move.
That snapped Paul out of his mental haze. “What — what the fuck is going on?” he asked.
“You’re my pets.” said Oscar. “Two little playthings that I can do anything I want with. You — keep undressing,” he said, pointing at Victor.
“How are you doing this?” Victor gasped, as his arms pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his slender pale body.
“You don’t recognize me? Such a careless student,” Oscar said.
“Who — who are you?” Paul stammered staring up at him.
Oscar ignored him, and instead wedged one of his feet out of its black leather boot. His socks were dirty and grey. “Pull my sock off,” he said. “Then I want both of you to suck my toes.”
They couldn’t stop. Together, Paul and Victor both pulled on the sock, tossing it to the side, then leaned in to press their cheeks together as they both wrapped their lips around Oscar’s sweaty toes. “Mmf!” Victor protested. Paul’s face burned with blushing embarrassment.
“If only you’d studied a little harder,” Oscar said. “Maybe you’d have recognized a Pux.”
A wash of terror shuddered along Paul’s body. He’d read of these creatures in the mythological texts he read in the academy library. They were thought extinct — malevolent demons who fed on the secrets of humans. Little was known about them, but Paul knew they were both in terrible danger.
He could hear footsteps around them — a crowd gathering to stare at the semi-naked men on all fours, kissing and licking and sucking on Oscar’s foot.
“I can tell you’ll both be quite tasty,” Oscar said. “But first, my pets don’t wear clothes. Finish undressing each other.”
Paul and Victor released Oscar’s foot from their mouths and sat back on their haunches. “The fuck’s going on,” Victor said to Paul. He reached down to the button on Paul’s pants and flicked it open, drawing down his fly with his fingers.
“Evil spirit,” said Paul. He reached over and tugged at Victor’s shirt. Victor lifted his arms over his head to allow the shirt to me removed, and Paul admired his friend’s body despite the danger. Though they were both students, Victor somehow found time to work out — not much, just enough for a soft bulge of muscle along his torso. How many times had Paul longed to fall asleep on Victor’s chest, nestled in the strong valley of his pecs?
“What’s it want,” Victor said, pulling at Paul’s pants. Paul leaned backwards, falling onto his ass and sticking out his legs so Victor could pull off his shoes and socks and pants and underwear. With a shock, Paul realized he was now fully nude on the floor of the bar. A crowd of men had gathered around, staring at him hungrily. For a moment, he wondered why nobody was concerned or trying to stop this obscene display — and then he saw that some of the men around them had shaggy goat legs, others had the squat thick bodies of orcs, and the bartender’s head had become that of a wolf. This was not a bar in which Victor and Paul belonged.
“Secrets,” said Paul. “A Pux feeds on secrets. The more secrets you have, the more it wants you. The more it can control you.” He reached over to Victor and yanked on his underwear so hard his friend fell to his side. Paul pulled the last shred of clothing from his friend and the two of them turned to look up at Oscar in fear.
“Good pets,” said Oscar, regarding their naked forms. “I’m a generous master, you know. I have presents for my obedient boys.” He waved a hand, and his leather gear shimmered and vanished. Standing before them now was a nude tower of muscle, a gorgeous body that Paul would have loved to worship if not for the danger he was in.
Oscar’s dick was particularly large. Uncut, fat, and long, he seized it in one hand and pointed it at Victor. “Are you ready for your gift, pet?” he said, and without waiting for an answer, unleashed a stream of piss.
Victor was frozen in place as the urine washed over his body, grazing his cheek and cascading down his neck and shoulders and chest and torso. There was a drain in the floor under them, so the piss didn’t collect; and Victor could only stare up in horror.
“Bigger,” said Oscar. “You’re getting bigger.”
As soon as he spoke, the urine began to have an effect. Victor’s body twitched, and then he lifted his left arm up and curled his hand in a first, staring at his arm in fascination as he adopted a bicep-flexing pose. Oscar aimed the urine at Victor’s arm, and as Victor flexed his muscles suddenly swelled with size and strength, bulking brutishly to massive proportions.
“Fuck,” Victor gasped, then turned to lift his right arm, flexing that one — and it grew huge and strong as well.
“Good pet,” said Oscar. “Now your shoulders. Thicker. Stronger. Bigger. You’re a brute.”
“No!” Victor threw his head back as his wet shoulders swelled, becoming huge and round to match his two enormous arms, and he rubbed his chest to feel his pecs swell with strength while the urine cascaded down his body.
“Thicker. Stronger. You’re my big dumb creature now,” Oscar told him.
Victor’s entire frame widened and grew, a ripple of abs emerging from his stomach. Within seconds, his entire upper-half was that of a champion bodybuilder.
Oscar’s stream of piss abruptly ceased. “A good start,” he said, and the creatures around them nodded gleefully in agreement.
Victor looked down at himself, at his huge arms and torso. His ass and legs were still their former modest size, and he looked absurd. “I’m a fucking freak!” he gasped.
“Why don’t you take it from here, then,” said Oscar, pointing at Victor’s cock. Without warming, a stream of urine surged up from Victor’s dick, splashing his chest with warm liquid.
“Oh my God,” Victor gasped, as now his own urine washed down over his body and forced muscles to grow. His ass swelled up first, huge and round and with such force he cried out. “No, no no no,” he said, clenching his teeth and trying to hold it back — but it was no use. Still pissing on himself, Victor reached down to touch his massive butt, his hands becoming wet with his own pee, then rubbing his thighs as they swelled larger and larger and larger. Slowly, carefully, and with the piss tapering off, Victor rose to his feet to tower over Paul who still cowered on the floor.
“A vast improvement,” said Oscar, looking him over.
“What did you do to me,” Victor said, rubbing his newly enlarged body in shock.
“This body is mine now,” said Oscar, grabbing Victor’s dick and squeezing. In his hand, Victor’s cock swelled to obscene proportions, flopping out away from Victor’s body and dangling down to his knees, with his balls enlarged to match.
Paul licked his lips. Victor was more beautiful than ever, and Paul’s dick had never been so hard.
Oscar looked down at him. “Ah yes,” he said. “I know what you want. I know what you want better than you do.”
“No,” Paul gasped. “Please let us go. Please don’t change me!”
“I won’t,” said Oscar. “Your friend will. Roll over.”
“No, please — no!” Paul flopped down on the ground, rolling over onto his back to expose himself. His eyes wide, Victor stepped over to straddle Paul.
“I can’t stop, man,” said Victor. “I can’t stop! I’m sorry!” And with that, he released another torrent of piss. It splashed over Paul’s face, then Victor aimed it further down, covering his friend’s slender body from his head down his torso to his crotch and his legs and his feet.
“I’m sorry, dude!” Victor said as he peed on Paul. “I’m trying to hold it in but I can’t!”
“Stronger,” Oscar said. “Thicker. Bigger. Stupider.”
“Ngggh!” Paul strained against the changes, but felt them overtake him. Writhing on the ground, surrounded by onlookers, he felt his arms bulk with muscle and strength. He flexed them, feeling the new power, the tightness of his skin around his body as it grew. His nipples strained wide across his enlarging pecs, and he moaned as his legs swelled, his calves cramping with size and strength. The room felt smaller, the people puny, and as his felt his ass enlarge and lift him from the ground, Paul’s mind went woozy again. He forgot — everything. The world was a crazy spiral, he was a muscle machine, a pet, a loyal toy to display.
The stream of warm piss ceased, and Paul shook his head. What was going on? He rolled over to crouch on all fours before … who was this? Oh, that’s right, Oscar. His master.
“Paul,” Victor said, crouching down beside him. Paul looked at his friend, whose body was as thick and strong as his. So sexy, so big. Maybe they’d fuck later.
“What’s up, dude,” Paul slurred. He felt so stupid and horny, and rubbed his hard dick. Was it always that big? Yeah, probably.
“Paul, I’m so sorry. He’s making me — he’s making me — ah!” Victor fell forward, his face down by Oscar’s boots and his butt sticking up in the air. There was a twitch of his thick meaty ass cheeks, and suddenly a tail shot out from above his butt. It was shaggy, long, covered in soft brown fur, and Victor looked back at it and yelped in surprise. It tucked between his legs.
Paul felt a strangle tickle on his lower back, and looked behind to see that he’d grown one as well. A big brown furry tail wagged lazily back and forth. He reached back to feel his new tail, stroking the length of it. Felt good.
“You’re the easiest mark I ever had,” Oscar said, looking down at Paul. “But I like a little resistance in my pups. Wake up.” He snapped his fingers, and abruptly the spiral sensation was lifted from Paul’s mind. He remembered his old body, his name, his life — and that he’d just grown a fucking tail.
“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed. Paul’s tail tucked involuntarily between his legs, as Victor’s had. The two man glanced at each other, barely recognizing each other’s bodies. Oscar had turned them into dog-tailed muscle freaks.
“Please,” Paul begged, “let us go. Don’t change us any more.”
“Shut up, pup,” said Oscar. “You’re mine now. You and your secrets.”
Wait: secrets, Paul realized. Secrets were what the Pux desired. If they didn’t have any secrets, maybe …
Paul lifted a hand and grabbed Victor by his thick shoulder. It was hot and hard, unfamiliar. “Victor,” he gasped. “Victor, I … I have to tell you. I love you.”
“Ahhh, fuck you,” Oscar said.
Victor looked stunned. “You…” he trailed off. His tail relaxed, no longer tucked but lifting up into the air.
“I love you, man,” said Paul. “I kept it secret. But I gotta tell you. And you gotta tell me your secret too.”
Victor looked panicked for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Paul,” he said, reaching to his friend’s massive shoulder — “Arrroooooo!” His voice suddenly pitched into a dog’s howl, inhuman.
“No more talking!” Oscar snarled. “I like you toys. You’re not getting away from me.”
“Woof!” Victor barked. “Arrruff!” He struggled to speak, but only canine sounds came out. He looked around in terror, then at Paul. “Woof!” he barked one more time, and then with all his new strength and weight, shoved Paul backwards.
Paul wasn’t used to his new size, and tumbled heavily through the crowd. Furred legs parted and then closed behind him, and when he came to a stop, there was a throng between him and Victor and Oscar. He’d lost sight of them.
“Get back here!” Oscar’s voice called, but without a secret, he didn’t have the power over Paul that he once did. Paul slowly stood, feeling his bulky new body and realizing again that he was completely naked. The patrons of the bar didn’t seem to care, milling around him with nonchalance. Through them, Paul heard Victor barking and growling, presumably keeping Oscar at bay.
“Get out of my way, you tiny little man,” Paul heard Oscar’s voice snap, and suddenly Victor’s barks grew high-pitched and small, yappy.
“Arf!” Victor barked, and for a moment he regained his voice: “Paul — RUN!”
Paul ran. Stumbling naked through satyrs and centaurs, he ran for the exit, falling through the door onto the alley outside with a crash.
When he looked back, the building was gone. It was just an empty lot with a few scraps of fabric in the center that Paul recognized as the clothes they’d been wearing when they came in.
Nothing else remained; and there was no sign of Victor, his best friend, the man he loved.
Read more chapters of True Pups at http://bit.ly/TruePups1
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