A young man develops an interest in leather after being selected by a warlock to be his lover.
My husband Dan’s a warlock. Since he first put an enchantment on me to make me his partner, he’s taken over pretty much every aspect of my life and even though I know I should be angry about what he’s done, I actually find it a total turn on. You have to understand I definitely wouldn’t have felt this way about it before but he cast a spell that made me get off on the changes he was making and these days, well, I just can’t wait to see what fucked up shit he’s gonna do to me next!
Before I met Dan I was kind of a shy guy, just out of college and easing into the realities of working life. I wasn’t exactly what you’d call stud material either. I had a pretty weedy frame and no muscles to speak of and even though I’d been told I was cute in a bookish sort of way, I’d never had a long term relationship with a girl let alone a burly blue collar stud like him. It all changed for me the day I walked past the site where he was working one morning and he decided that I’d be his perfect husband. He’d used some kind of curse to make me fall head over heels in love and that was it, I was instantly devoted to him and I have to say, very happy about it too.
Even though I’d never even considered hooking up with a guy before, I very nearly knocked him over that morning as I raced onto the construction site and planted a sloppy kiss full on his lips, confused and yet overcome with unfamiliar feelings of lust at the sight and smell of this husky, beast of a man. Later, as we rode home in his pick-up, I was practically drooling as I pulled his chubbed up, musky cock from his work pants and eagerly deepthroated it the entire way back to his apartment which I discovered, much to my surprise, contained all my posessions as if I’d been living with him since forever.
After a night of vigorous sex during which I discovered I was a total bottom, he made some changes while I was sleeping and the next morning I woke up in a very different body. peering at myself in the mirror with amazement the next morning, I found I was still recognisable but much more muscular and at least fifteen years older with a heavy five o’clock shadow and thick pelt of hair on my chest, abs, forearms and legs. Strangest of all, I found that he’d given me a rough New Jersey accent and made it almost impossible, unless I really concentrated, for me to speak without swearing like a sailor. Later that morning when I popped a boner staring at the changes he’d made in the bathroom mirror, he surprised me again by telling me that he’d decided it would be amusing to have me feel turned on by his control over me. I suppose it was only natural that this latest news made me blow a load over the bathroom floor but I surprised even myself when I excitedly agreed with his suggestion to lick the mess up off the tiles.
That evening, he told me that we were going to go clubbing with some of his friends and that we’d be hitting the local gay scene as a couple. I was excited but also bit nervous as until a few days ago, I was straight as an arrow and had never been to a gay bar before. I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if we ran into any of my buds from before I met him. He was relaxed as usual and told me it’d be fun. As he pulled me in for a kiss, giving my ass a squeeze, he reassured me that it’d be a night I would remember forever before hurrying me along to get ready.
When I came downstairs to wait while he finished getting dressed, I checked out my new, older body in the mirror and got kind of turned on at how my fitted white Ralph Lauren shirt and navy Diesel jeans had adjusted perfectly to fit the contours of my new build. I flexed a little, enjoying how my biceps now stretched against the fabric of my sleeves and I had to admit, I chubbed up a bit in my boxers admiring myself and the changes Dan had made.
A couple of minutes later, I was snapped out of my daydream when Dan came downstairs dressed head to toe in some kind of black uniform like a motorcycle cop would wear but all in leather. I probably don’t have to tell you that I was a kind of shocked but when I’d asked him what the fuck he was wearing, he’d just chuckled and called me a prude saying I should chill out and be more adventurous.
After agreeing half heartedly with him, I made my big mistake which was to tell him that there was no way I’d ever be seen in public dressed up in leather like some gimp — he looked a bit put out for a moment but then he laughed and said somewhat cryptically that he’d be the judge of that. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised when, a few seconds later I felt a strange crawling sensation all over my body and watched in horror as my designer threads suddenly transformed into leather gear similar to Dan’s. Looking in the mirror, I blushed as I checked out the form fitting polished black leather cop uniform that had replaced my normal clothes but I knew there was no point in arguing with him.
Still blushing with embarrassment, I congratulated him on his sense of humor and asked him as politely as I could if he’d consider changing me back. Of course he just laughed again, pulled me into a rough kiss and whispered in my ear that he liked how I looked in leather so was going to be the only thing I’d be wearing from now on. As he pulled away, I heard him mutter another curse but this time I could make out all the words and realised with horror that from then on, that I really would only be able to wear leather because, if I’d understood the curse properly, anything else would turn into leather of some kind the moment I tried to put it on.
I wanted not to believe him but of course it was true. The next morning, my favourite Italian suit transformed into a leather NYPD uniform as soon as I’d put it on and after work when I tried to go to the gym, my usual workout clothes turned into a leather tank top and hot pants while my lifting shoes morphed into knee high black work boots. It was totally humiliating but as usual I found it a turn on too which inevitably meant that getting dressed for work each morning after that would end in me being fucked raw in yet another new leather outfit.
A week or so later when the last of my normal clothes had been transformed into leather, Dan finally relented and offered to undo the curse. In spite of the thrill I got from being humiliatingly exposed in kinky leather gear every day, I was relieved to be able to say goodbye to the fetish look so I thanked him in the best way I knew how with a long, slow blowjob.
The next morning as I started to get ready for work, I was relieved to find that he’d made good on his promise and that my clothes had all turned back into leather just like he’d said they would. As I finished dressing, pulling on my favourite Brando jacket over the long sleeve black uniform shirt and tie I always wore to the office, I kissed Dan hard on the lips, kneading his ass with both hands and thanking him again for undoing the curse.
Firing up a fat stogie on the balcony just before setting off, I admired the heavy set bulk of Dan’s powerful upper body as he leant easily against the door frame, looking at me with approving eyes and blowing a cloud of his own cigar smoke towards me. He grinned as he puffed on his cigar and even apologised for cursing my wardrobe over the past few weeks, telling me that I’d always be a horny looking fucker, whatever I wore. I smiled back, reassured that even if he was a warlock, I could always trust him to keep his promises.