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Chapter One: A New Queen

By topaz172 published May 13, 2019

What if its like Pokemon, the gay version is the ‘evolved form’. What if the Queen is the ultra rare boss-level gay… and what if for the first time in 300 years there’s a new one? (community chapters if you like)

****Homo Erectus Synopsis: It’s often said LGBT has a genetic component… what if we were a separate species? As different as wizards are from muggles. Different species of gaylife explored in a multi-chapter tale.

Chapter 1 – The New Queen

Alex sat at the back of the lecture theatre, Professor Challenger’s insights on reversing the polarity of fermions in a neutron beam forming a pleasant background noise. The real focus of Alex’s attention was the perfect ass three tiers down, visible in the gap between the backrest and the cushioned bench.

It was, as far as he could tell, a near perfect example of an ass, round cheeks, smooth with that lean sexy spinal V pointing toward that ass crack. Whilst that was extremely attractive, the puzzle was that the butt was completely (arousingly) naked. More puzzling still, if he actively concentrated, closing one eye and forcing himself to see it, the ghostly hint of jeans seemed to phase into existence.

The athletic shoulders and bare neck led to rainbow coloured hair that looked more like a macaw’s natural plumage than simple dyed stripes or fake extensions. Alex’s hard-on was desperately solid, uncomfortable and constrained.

Applause rippled across the auditorium, bringing him back to general reality. The professor had finished his lesson, and the students were edging toward the door, the cafeteria over in the Turing Annex opened in five minutes. You had to be quick, if you wanted to be front of the burger queue.

Alex, fiddled with his backpack, eyes locking onto the owner of the naked butt as he stood up. The illusion of clothes seemed easier to detect now and easier to dispel. Like clicking a switch in his head, he could choose to see the transparent simulation of clothes, or the lean perfection of muscles. If he chose to see the clothes, they were skin-tight jeans topped off with a cropped ultra-lemon and pink T-shirt, a male-male arrow symbol on the cuff of elbow length sleeves.

The naked hottie was also slow to leave, the two of them were amongst the last to reach the door. It was like watching The First Avenger movie, as if he was Peggy Carter seeing the newly created Capt. America’s perfect pecs, his hand instinctively moving to touch that silky perfect flesh. As he’d expected the dayglo crop top didn’t exist, he was touching pec.

Perfection’s eyes widened in surprise glancing about, checking on who was still present.

Alex heard a beautiful voice that commanded him to think Nothing to see, I really want some lunch, but somehow, he was able to ignore the compulsion. The remaining astronomy graduates paused as if listening and then surged past leaving them alone.

The naked perfection smiled running a finger along Alex’s jaw line before leaning in to a kiss. Alex felt Perfection’s other hand in his hair, gently holding his head in place so that he couldn’t break lip contact.

He should open his lips do that they could French kiss

Even though it was obviously some sort of mental command Alex willingly obeyed. This was like some sort of ultimate fantasy come true. No doubt and no fear that the person he desired might reject him. It was a final irrevocable understanding that he was gay all the way from his toenails to the depths of his soul.

Awaken brother said the voice deep in his head.

Suddenly he simply ‘knew’.

The secret that the gay community had so carefully hidden flooded into him. They were Homo Erectus, several hidden human species, not primitive ape-like ancestors, but more evolved and perfect instead. He sensed knowledge flooding into him, and was vaguely aware that he’d simply know things when he needed to.

‘Wow!’ he sighed as the kiss ended. His first instinct was to drop to his knees and taste the 8-inch cock, but he forced himself to remain standing, looking into Perfection’s startling blue and gold flecked eyes. ‘I think… I think I need to know your name before…’ Alex’s eyes widened, realising that he’d sent the last part telepathically.

‘Names are a powerful thing. You’ve named me Perfection in your mind. That’s both a promise and an obligation. You can call me Perri for short’ Perri smiled. ‘Of course, since you’ve named me, I get to name you my angel.’

The name ‘Alex’ suddenly lost importance in Myangel’s mind. Myangel blinked in surprise and then smiled in acceptance. His name was a properly gay name, something a mere Heterosexual would think was exotic and perverted. It fit his personality like a missing puzzle piece, completing him. ‘Thanks, Perri! I love it!’ Myangel replied, kissing Perri and hugging him close, hands clasping Perri’s butt cheeks.

‘Ah, ah’ said Perri pulling away. ‘We can’t do that yet Myangel. That desire for a five hour fuckfest that I planted in that sexy little subconscious of yours, will have to wait until we’re in private.’

Myangel’s lip quivered, he wanted it now!

‘Besides, you’re still transitioning. Your body has to catch up with your mind.’

‘But I’m ready now’ Myangel whined, his asshole clenching in anticipation.

Perri laughed gently, ‘You’re at the puppy-in-heat stage, Myangel. You’ve got eighteen years of sexual repression shooting fireworks in your hippocampus and zero telepathic control. Right now, every Hetero within a hundred yards is flipping the bone.’

Myangel quite liked that idea.

‘Go home, Myangel’ replied Perfection firmly, clasping him on both shoulders.

Myangel opened his mouth to protest, but it seemed as if time had passed. Perri was long gone and the next class were beginning to shuffle in. Myangel glanced down at the backpack containing his exercise books, he nudged it out of the way. Someone could hand it in later, he had no further need of it. Hesitating, he quickly stripped off his T-shirt and stuffed it into the bag, another thing he felt he wouldn’t need.

Myangel, closed the door to his rented student accommodation apartment and immediately stripped, finally able to be rid of the pants. His shoes and socks were already in a trash bin near the college quadrangle.

Throwing himself on his bed he immediately set about dealing with his raging boner, images of Perfection’s perfect body replaying in his minds-eye. It took only seconds to push him over the edge, thick white cum jetting strings across his belly.

Loving the smell, he ran his fingers through it, lathering in the cum-slime as if it were shower jell. His jacking-hand never left his cock and soon a second massive shot joined the first. Giggling he smeared it down his legs, between his toes, his ass, anywhere he could reach glistened.

At some point after the fifth or sixth ejaculation Myangel curled up and slept in exhausted bliss.

The Perfection Queen watched quietly; his presence edited out of Myangel’s perception. He wanked slowly, enjoying the show, building up a shot of the thickest cum… a royal jelly.

Myangel was one of the rare sort, born with an active gay gene and spontaneously evolving into a new form. Encountering a mind powerful enough to see through a Queen’s veil of illusion at the very instant that the boy ‘outed’, had immediately triggered his instinct to breed. He’d not expected it, nor prepared. Instead of collecting new bodies for his personal court, he was creating a rival Queen.

It would be kind of hard on Myangel-Queen, he wouldn’t have a court or drones, twinks and workers in place ready to serve his every need… on the other hand, he’d seen Queens spoiled by having too pampered a start. Far better for Myangel to figure it out on his own.

Carefully, the Perfection Queen picked through the sleeping mind, checking that Myangel had fully ‘turned’.

His telepathic ‘sting’ should have helped eliminate any lingering homo sapien mentality ensuring a 100% gay-Queen mindset, but still needed checking for any remnant Bi tendency.

Satisfied that the puppy was ripe, he brushed his cock against Myangel’s lips. Driven by Instinct, the soon-to-be-Queen began giving head, suckling on his Queen’s nectar, never wakening.

Perfection Queen’s ejaculation lasted a good two minutes, filling Myangel with a bollock full of seed, enough to breed an entire new hive. Satisfied, he carefully withdrew his cock from the still eager mouth. Next, he gently replaced his cock with a pinky finger for Myangel’s tongue to suckle. With his other hand he expertly brought himself back to the brink and began pumping out a second load of cum, splattering Myangel with string after string of slippery slime. This cum was different to the first, thinner, flowing like olive oil until Myangel glistened from head to toe.

Even a Queen has only a limited amount of cum he can dispense, after ten full minutes of orgasm, Perfection stepped away and observed his handiwork. Slowly the glistening oily cum hardened, turning calcium white. a protective cocoon that looked like a Greek statue.

Nothing short of a hit with a tank shell could touch Myangel as he was rewritten at a molecular level.

Perfection Queen headed to the kitchen, knowing he’d be stuck in the room for nearly a week, instinctively guarding the pup.

Five days later…

Myangel-Queen ripped his way out of the cum-junk-cocoon and stumbled into his shower cubicle.

The heat of the water and steam that filled the cubicle felt glorious. The steam filled atmosphere feeling more comfortable and natural than the dry dry air. He wondered if he could rig it so that the entire apartment was permanently steamy.

Next priority was the mirror. He knew from looking down that there had been changes. eight pack abs replacing his single beer-keg ab was a good sign. But he needed to see his face. He needed to know the face wasn’t messed the fuck up.

As he’d expected, his blobby unfit Hetero he’d been had burned away to leave a body much closer to Perfection’s. His lips were a little plumper, more kissable, face changed from ‘unremarkable’ to ‘glamourous’; his ass slightly more prominent forcing a posture that absolutely sk-reamed fuckme! His hair, had grown long, originally it had been a no.3 buzzcut that had needed a serious trim; now it was shoulder length and blue apart from the blond tips that he supposed was the remnant of his Hetero-hair.

He felt a moment of regret that his hair didn’t match Perfection’s red, blue, green and gold…his hair twitched, moving like a nest of vipers. Suddenly the hair was exactly as he’d imagined, multi-coloured and coiffed into a rough approximation of Perri’s. Squinting a little, he practiced commanding his hair, soon getting the knack of it, first reverting to blue, then green and finally linking his hair colour to his emotional state so that it changed constantly. Instinctively he knew he simply HAD to look absolutely fabulous and spent the next half hour commanding the medusa-like mane into different styles, finally settling on a set of Viking braids.

Satisfied that he could melt hearts from the neck up, he focused on his body, the hairless chest was a given. The real question was what to do with the multi-coloured pubes that nested around his eight-inch semi-hard cock. The wild birdsnest definitely needed a trim, or a stylist. He resolved to search the internet for a gay barber to take care of be-jazzling.

Checking the fridge, he found a roll of a roll of $100 bills and a post-it. money because I ate all your food whilst guarding your cocoon. and a second note ‘Follow your instincts, you aren’t merely gay, I have made you fabulous, good luck!’

Myangel-Queen frowned, understanding that Perfection had fucked him into existence and then buggered off. He wanted to hold a grudge, but found he couldn’t. If a hot guy turned up, he knew he’d fuck that ass without hesitation and then move on, just as Perfection had just done to him.

Thoughts of finding a hot ass to fuck sent him wandering toward the door, only hesitating when his naked feet met the cold un-carpeted floor of the corridor.

Hastily he headed back inside the apartment. There was no way he was ever wearing clothes again, therefore he had to get a grip on that illusion power Perfection used. Fortunately, it seemed to be instinctive, within ten minutes he could project a passable illusion of a thong complete with double arrow logo.

Another half hour in front of the mirror saw him ‘dressed’ in lycra cycle shorts. It was something of a compromise. He’d quickly learned that the more elaborate the illusion, the more concentration it took. Having one’s clothes vanish whilst in public had a certain adventurous appeal, but really needed to be intentional. The lycra was therefore the safest illusion option, displaying absolutely everything for his discerning public with the least chance of it failing and exposing all.

The only real question was whether he was just imagining the lycra instead of projecting the illusion. Fortunately, the college quadrangle was almost a frat house and you could install a flock of ostriches in the library without anyone blinking.

Hearing footsteps, on the floor outside his rooms, he sashayed out into corridor, turning, and pretending to lock the door, willing whoever was walking toward him to see lycra rather than ass crack. He could sense the eyes on him, appreciative of a fine physique, but nothing more.

Instincts took over and he appraised the guy, with his gaydar sense. Before, his gaydar had been at blurry impression of ‘yeah he’s definitely one’… But now, it was like 20/20 vision. #mid-fifties, overweight, small cock, straight with an SM fetish. Basically, not worth fucking.# The man glared, sensing he’d been checked out, he stomped away muttering homophobic comments. Myangel-Queen didn’t care, the building was full of hot youth to pick from.

#Guy, 20years old, swimmer physique, 9inch cock, flaccid, a virgin# said his gaydar

Myangel-Queen’s eyes locked on. Acting entirely on instinct, he stepped into the path of his prey. The guy made eye contact, and something surged in his mind, like a mental scorpion tail striking.

The guy’s frown melted away replaced by a passionate intake of breath and the sound of dropped books hitting the grass. ‘You’re….’ Myangel-Queen watched in fascination as the man’s posture morphed from ‘guy’ to ‘boi’, one hand resting on his hips, his butt twitching as if practicing sphincter clenches as his other hand drifted up to tweak his nipple.

#Femboi, (gagging for it), 20years old, swimmer physique, 9inch cock (erect), a virgin# said his gaydar

His illusionary lycra flickered for a second, the distraction of a newly created boi almost leaving him naked. The boi needed to be fucked, it was instinct. The post-it had said go with his instincts.

Taking the boi by the hand Myangel-Queen led him back to his rooms. At first, he tried making small talk, gabbling about how nice it was that they’d met, would he like a coke and what was his name? Not that it seemed to matter, the femboi had concentrated on stripping off his pants and whilst Myangel’s back was turned. The shirt was shredded, the Boi had forgotten the concept of buttons, he later deduced.

Without prompting the Boi went down on all fours his ass raised in an instinctively correct pose, sphincter visible and twitching invitingly.

Naturally Myangel-Queen took him, sliding his cock all the way in, the Boi squealing for more and harder, slick sphincter clenching his cock like a vice.

He didn’t even know the Boi’s name. Did Boi’s have names? Did they need names? He supposed he’d have to at least give the femboi a number. Over time positions changed, boi-1 flipped onto his back, legs wrapped around Myangel’s waist. He was going for his fourth orgasm when he noticed something odd, a fur-like tickling where boi-1’s legs rested against his sides. He slowed his thrusting and took a closer look.

The boi was changing, his legs were developing fur from toe to crotch, red and pink fur, in bands that could be mistaken for thigh-length striped socks, exactly like those hot images on the internet. Also, whilst the boi’s cock was still there, his balls were entirely gone, the skin smooth and hairless as if they’d never been. Illusions of eye shadow, lipstick and bodypaint flickered in and out of existence, not yet fully under the boi’s control.

‘My Queen!’ gasped the boi-1, his back arching, ass clenching as he came in long powerful squirts that splattered Myangel’s chest.

#boi-1 of 1# was all his gaydar said now. That, and a sense of ownership, of family.

In the next Chapter its time for cocksucking twinks and Leathery Finnish Toms…. (four chapters written so far)

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Author's & Reviewer's Panel
This is a community series!
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