Some Rewiring Required

By TickledPink published September 8, 2018
A man with a unique talent runs into an old acquaintance, and a forgotten regret

I didn’t even remember why I’d done it. Honestly, it was probably something pretty petty. I wasn’t the best with impulse control back when my power had manifested. The man sitting opposite me continued his story, staring into his drink. He was handsome, actually more handsome now than when we’d first met. He’d obviously been taking care of himself, his t-shirt clung to his chest hinting at some definition beneath. Strawberry blond hair, cropped short, and a coating of stubble across his face. His ears stuck out, red, even in the dim lighting of the bar.

“And then one day… I just couldn’t anymore.” He looked down into his lap, frowning “Just like that. And she took it personally of course. We broke up pretty quickly after that.” He paused for a sip of his beer. I nodded politely. I knew this part. Or rather, I knew my involvement in it. So that power I mentioned. It’s not a huge one, really. I’d be hard pressed to make a superhero career out of it, but it does come in handy for the rehabilitation work I did for a living.

I was able to rewire how the body responded to stimuli. It had a lot of little applications. I could help a person eat a spicier meal for example. It also had a lot of life-changing outcomes, like with the people I worked with. I had also, in years gone by, been a little irresponsible with it. Like with the case of Nathan, the man continuing to detail the last few years of his life to me.

“So I was in the shower, one day, and I reached behind me to clean up my arse, and my finger just brushed over my hole, I guess. And it was just…” he drank another gulp, eyes looking around as though the words he searched for were hovering on the walls “I mean, it was the best.”

So. Yep. I’d been the cause of this. Nathan, had done… something. Something minor, probably didn’t even realised he’d done it. And me, being the vindictive person I was, and feeling all-powerful with my new ability, pounced. I’d rewired Nathan. Specifically, I’d redirected all of the pleasure sensation that would normally be found in his cock, and placed it straight into his hole. I’d probably thought that was hilarious at the time. In hindsight, it was definitely related to my repressed homosexuality, because there were quite a few guys I’d wound up rewiring in ways that could be interpreted… kinkily.

“And I mean, I hadn’t orgasmed in weeks. And this was just… better. Better than any I’d had. Ever.” Nathan continued. “So over the next few days, just any free time I had, I was just knuckle deep, constantly. Eventually I bit the bullet and found a sex store. Got my first dildo. Butt plugs. Anal beads. Vibrator. Anything that would stimulate my arse.”

Based on our surroundings I had a suspicion of where the story was going.

“My housemate at the time was gay. I knew he had the hots for me, but up to that point I’d always just been a bit grossed out by it. But I mean, I tried with a few chicks. But there’s not many who just want to peg a guy. And so, Eddie, my housemate, I started dropping hints I guess.” He shifted in his seat, before continuing.

“I flirted a bit. I did, you know, I did the dishes or something with my shirt off. I bent over a lot in front of him. I remember that. And he didn’t take the bait. Good mate for that, really. But eventually I knew I just needed it. So I got more overt. I started wearing jockstraps, around the house, and I’d made sure I was wearing pants thin enough to see the outline through. I started leaving sex toys around the house. One day-” he laughed, a short mirthless bark, “One day, when he came home, I was sitting on the couch, legs splayed, in just a jock, playing some videogame. Made direct eye contact. He almost ran out of the room.”

Nathan finished his drink, and I did the same. We headed to the counter to order another. The bartender, clad only in the gay bar’s very short apron, plonked the cold beers in front of us. I paid for the drinks, and we made our way back to the table, for Nathan to continue his story.

“So that night, right, I went to his room, knocked and walked straight in. He was just sitting on his bed, and I said ‘Look, mate, I fucking want it. You want to fuck me? Let’s go.’” He shook his head, eyes wide, “Like I was fucking dying for it, you know? And it turns out he was too. I wasn’t big on the kissing, though. Still not. And he tried playing with my dick a bit. And I just moved him away. He got the message pretty quick, and that night. That was my first rimjob I think. I was in heaven. And I’ve had a lot through the years now, and I still remember that one clear as anything.”

I drank a bit of my drink. I was feeling a bit more guilty now.

“I knew I needed him to fuck me. Like I needed it. It was the first dick I sucked. Turns out most guys don’t want to fuck someone if they can’t get their dick sucked a bit first.” He scowled into his drink. “But it was worth it. Sucking it… sucked. But just…” he trailed off, reminiscing.

I pursed my lips. So, this was the result. One change, kind of a big one I’ll admit, and I’d done a real number on this guy. He was a straight man who’d conditioned himself into a cock-slut because I’d made that the only real path for him to go. I wanted to do something to help. I really did. Unfortunately, it had been years. Trying to undo that level of rewiring after it had had years of reenforcement was not a realistic possibility. And I mean, I couldn’t just flick a switch in him and make him gay. That was just science fiction. Or the joint power of the Queer Try guys, that reality show on the CB channel, but that might just have been clever editing. All I could do was physical sensation.

I considered my options while Nathan continued talking. I couldn’t change him. I could just change some physical responses. He would have to change himself. And I mean, he managed to convince himself that getting rimmed and fucked by guys was better than trying to find a kinky enough woman, so he had some good self-conditioning skills to work with. I took a swig of my drink.

I rubbed my face, rough under my hands. I needed to shave soon. Realisation hit.

I steeled myself. I was pretty sure I had the solution. I clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hang on mate, I’ll be back in a sec.” I ducked off to the bathroom. The touch of his shoulder was important. It allowed me to get a sense of the current state of his wiring. I couldn’t see it, but it was kind of similar. No doubt if it were ever made into a movie there would be a big 3D picture of his nervous system or something, but it was almost completely unlike that. I could observe the rewiring I’d done in the past. I gathered the locations and responses I needed.

So he didn’t like kissing. That was pretty understandable, he didn’t actually like guys. And while I can’t do much about that, I may just be able to give him a type. The nerves around his mouth, I sensitised them, focusing on one particular sensation. Beard. Scratching. Stubble. Rough. Moustache. Ticklish. I linked them, ever so slightly to his nipples. I could tell he had fairly sensitive nipples, and this linkage would set him up with some stimulation. Kissing a man with facial hair was going to give him a nice little tingling sensation. Do that enough times and he’ll seek them out. Eventually his mind will link them together, and he has a type.

And the cock sucking. That was a little more difficult, but I had, frankly a brilliant (okay, workable) idea for that. It was a two pronged approach. I started with the taste. Specifically precum. I worked with his taste receptors. Tiny changes. HIs favourite food may change. Small price to pay. Precum, or at least, a general taste like that, I linked to the fat and umami receptors. Sweet could get boring, sour would cause him to scrunch up his face, salty was the problem, and bitter was right out. That change would at least stop him gagging at the start. But his enthusiasm would require a bit more finesse.

The gag reflex I softened a bit, though I could see he’d got pretty good at stopping it himself. I redirected some of that to one of his shoulder blades. Hopefully he doesn’t ever get acupuncture there or something. With the open stimulation possible I set up a little erogenous zone, right there in his throat. I linked it straight to his prostate. A few deepthroatings and he’d Pavlov himself into a proper cocksucker yet.

I headed back out, to find him almost finished his drink. I smiled and finished mine, before resting my hand on his. It served the dual purpose of starting my “come back to my place” pitch, and delivering the sense-and-response changes I’d set up for him. We left shortly after.

I offered him a drink, which he accepted. I set it on the tea table. And brought him onto the couch next to me. I kissed him, and I felt him stiffen slightly. I rubbed my stubble onto his. And I felt him shiver. Emboldened, I deepened the kiss, tongue probing at his. As the kiss continued I could feel him gaining enthusiasm. After minutes I pulled away. I noted his nipples were rock hard, poking at his shirt from behind. I could see the confusion on his face as he pulled away.

I undressed him slowly, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a toned chest and a flat stomach, thickly covered in light-coloured hair. I leaned down, taking a nipple in my mouth, licking and nipping at it. I swirled the hair around it in a spiral with my tongue, and when I pulled back I saw him licking his lips. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off him in one swift motion. He wore a black jock-brief beneath it. Unbranded. A no-nonsense fuck me if there ever were one.

I moistened a finger in my mouth, before bringing it to his hole. That got a twitch, and I slowly teased at the entrance. I pushed myself back in for a kiss, which he responded significantly better to this time, and pushed my finger into his backside as I did. *nggh* he moaned, as my finger sought out his prostate. We continued to kiss, technique giving way to tongue as I fingered him. He squirmed as I added fingers, and I felt his hot breath on my mouth, breathing increasing in speed as we made out.

I pushed him away slightly, and lifted my shirt off. I shucked my pants, sitting in my blue briefs on the couch. I could see him hesitate at the sight of my bulge, straining against the fabric, a wet spot shining through the material. I placed a hand to the back of his head and guided him down. He bent over, and slowly pulled my underwear down, freeing my cock. I felt some sympathy as he hesitated, but I knew he’d enjoy it a lot more than he thought he would.

He licked at the head, delicately. I could see him pause, blinking. That would be the taste. He took my member in his mouth, bobbing his head back and forth slowly. And he worked his way down the shaft. With each back-and-forth, he got a bit deeper, even if it was at an agonisingly glacial pace. But he was pretty good at it. Despite not particularly liking it, he’d obviously put in the effort to learn.

And then he reached his shiny new spot. I felt the hum that went through him. He experimented with depths. Deeper, shallower. Deeper again. Very deep. And slowly he worked it out. A shiver went through me this time, as he pucked up the pace. I even caught him maybe even moaning quietly as he sucked. I could see his cock bulging in his jock. Despite not giving sensation, it still obviously reacted to it. Interesting.

“Uaaah.” I gasped. And pulled him off quickly. Can’t cum too quickly. We’re not done here yet. I directed him, hands on his hips, bringing his jock-framed arse to my face. I pulled his cheeks apart quickly with my hands and buried my face in his hole. The blowjob had instilled a sense of urgency in me I had to reciprocate. I lashed at the pink puckered hole in front of me with my tongue. Probing and tasting. His knees shook, and the muscles in his thighs tensed. I don’t know how long I was rimming him, but soon I felt a very surprising sensation. He’d taken my cock back in his mouth, blowing me again. We 69’d in this position, trading pleasures for seconds, minutes, maybe hours? Who was counting.

With a gentle nudge we extricated ourselves. His red ears were practically glowing now, and his lightly freckled face flushed. Sitting up I reached over to the side table. I opened a condom, sliding it on as he squirted some lube from the table on his hand. Once he’d finished applying it, he turned around, swinging a leg over me. Angling himself on my lap, he grabbed at my cock, directing it to his hole. With the lube and the copious attention, let alone his years of practice, I felt it slide inside him, smoothly. We gasped together, as he raised and lowered himself. He worked himself into a rhythm, fucking himself on my cock. I could barely move, the pleasure building with each bounce. I slapped at his arse, lost in the moment.

He twisted around as we fucked, seeking my mouth with his. On every low point, as he impaled himself, we kissed, tongues licking at each other, and I felt as he rubbed his face against mine, relishing the feeling of my stubble on his. His jock twitched and jumped in time with out fucking, and I felt my own climax building. He twitched and spasmed, each up and down cycle becoming more erratic than the last. Finally he quietly sighed into my mouth, and I saw as his jock was soaked, as he came. For my part I wasn’t quite there yet, but now had to do my own thrusting. He moaned as I fucked his arse, eyes rolling back in his head.

I checked back in on Nathan every now and then. Mostly I just went to the bar and hoped he’d show up that night. Never really spoke to him again, I just wanted to make sure he was doing well. It seemed to me that the rewiring I’d done had done the trick. I’d not seen him with a clean-shaven man since our night. The one he was with tonight was actually the same one he’d gone home with the last few times I’d seen him out. A short south-east Asian man with a moustache, a surprising amount of stubble, and hair trimmed into a fashionable undercut. Looked a bit like me actually. They seemed happy together.

I ordered another drink.

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