Something more revealing 3

By Keeky
published April 19, 2009
Summary

Kyle discovers new powers

Demonstrating a coolness he didn’t feel, Kyle strode purposefully into the midst of six guys playing football on the beach. He figured that disrupting their game while shaking his ass in just his pink thong was going to make them mad as hell and that, he knew, was the quickest and most effective way to give them a serious change of attitude.

“Hey faggot,” he heard yelled at him, “carry on and you’re gonna get stomped on.”

Kyle decided to ignore this and see what developed. “Hey, thong boy! I’m talking to you. Go jiggle your ass some place else.”

So far only one guy had addressed him and he figured that he must be the natural leader of the group. If he went on like this, Kyle thought, it would not be long before he would find it harder to hold the respect of his friends. But some of the others were starting to yell at him too, mostly homophobic insults and threats. Then suddenly one guy was in his face.

Knowing that the more aggressively these guys presented the more they would change, Kyle felt no fear and was able to coolly appraise the guy in front of him. He figured that he must have struggled to keep in with the jocks since he was quite overweight and out of shape. He had more than a hint of double chin and man-boobs were apparent under his shapeless grey t-shirt. Also his huge shorts failed to hide the fact that his gut was dwarfing his package. Maybe it was insecurity that made him behave like such an asshole. “Hey ya fucking queer! Has all that cum you swallow made you deaf or something, you dumb-ass shit licking faggotty bimbo?” he yelled.

But it was not what he was saying that startled Kyle; it was the effect his behaviour, filtered through the mysterious power Kyle had been given, were having on the guy himself. As he balled his filthy homophobic insults he began to somehow lose some of his extra weight! “Why don’t you get out of the middle of our game, you ass-muncher,” yelled the former fat guy, unaware that his shorts and boxers, both built for a much bigger waist and hips, had slid down his now muscular legs. His friends had clearly realised that something strange was happening and had ceased their own yelling to simply stare in disbelief at the transformation in front of them, but the guy himself seemed oblivious “Queers like you, with your fucking thongs you make me wanna …” for a moment he paused as if searching for the right words, then, whipping off his huge t-shirt to reveal his now slim and cut torso, he continued, “Guys like you just make me want to suck your fucking balls dry!”

With that he dropped to his knees and, before Kyle could react, his own dick was in the guys mouth. Now, what Kyle had not realised was that changing others was also changing himself. The stranger, who had given him these powers had explained that his sexuality was the power source and that this would be drained as he used it. But Kyle had not really registered this and was unaware that, having converted at least four guys already, he was no longer as completely hetero as he had woken up that morning. Consequently he found that he was perfectly willing to go with the idea of a blowjob from a guy.

Meanwhile, the other five guys stood around watching with various feelings of their own. All had yelled some sort of abuse at Kyle in support of Paul, the guy who was now enthusiastically servicing Kyle’s dick so all would be changed in some way by the rebounding of their abuse. The two guys who had said least simply felt an odd keenness to watch the show. Two others, who had been more overtly hostile were very much more turned on. One guy, stripped of his tank top, had both hands down his shorts and was stroking his dick and fingering his ass, while the other had stripped to a pair of black Speedos through which he was rubbing his dick and balls while tweaking his nipple.

Callum, the leader, although he had started the yelling, seemed to be holding up best. He still had on all his clothes and had managed to keep his hands off himself. He stormed over to Kyle and Paul. “Paul man! What the fuck are you doing blowing this fag?!” Something seemed to go through him and he staggered slightly and raised his hands to squeeze his own pecs. “Ohhh!” he moaned, then shook his head, trying to hold onto his self-control. He took another step towards the engaged couple and yelled, “Stop this you queers,” then immediately he put his head back, screamed, “Aahhhhhh!”, took hold of the hem of one leg of his shorts and, with one smooth movement, he ripped them completely off. “You …” he staggered forward now, still trying to fight but compelled to pull off his shirt, stripping himself to his black boxer briefs. “I … said … stop … this!” he managed to force out, releasing his oozing dick. “Paul you cocksucking …ohhhhhh”, he gasped as he was compelled to force his own dick into Paul’s ass, at the very instant Kyle exploded into the former fat boy’s mouth. As Kyle reeled back, Paul, cum running down his chin, gasped and writhed with the urgent thrusting of Callum’s hot shaft into his virgin ass.

Kyle looked around at the other guys. Two, in just their swim team black Speedos, were lying on the sand kissing passionately, each squeezing and fondling his companions cock and balls through the lycra. One of the two who had been less abusive seemed to have ripped the mesh liner out of his shorts and had improvised a thong while the other had on pale blue briefs. They were running together towards another group in the middle distance, eager to show themselves off to a less distracted audience.

Kyle, sitting down on the sand watched them all, but his attention was particularly focused on Paul, who had gone from slob to stud in about 30 seconds. “Wow,” he said aloud, “that was weird!” Immediately, just behind, he heard the now familiar voice of the man in the white suit, “Well what did you expect Kyle?” he asked, “You have the power, where necessary, to alter the form of your converts as your mind sees fit. After all, would you want to see a body like the one he started with walking around clad as skimpily as you are now?”

Kyle stood to face the stranger, “No I guess not,” then, to the concealed amusement of White Suit, he turned back to look at Paul, who was now standing to be blown by Callum, “he sure looks hot now!”

“All conjured from your imagination, I assure you. But never mind that. Let’s look at your work so far. Nine converts - that right isn’t it?” Kyle looked uncertain, but White Suit continued, “Well it is. Nine converts, of whom two could just about be called bisexual and the others are all … well lets just say theirs will be a very gay life from now on. You’re not here to turn men gay, you know Kyle. That is merely a necessary defence mechanism. I think you should try to be less confrontational. Cover up just little. Try to get a few straight men loosened up without leaving the womenfolk disappointed. Here, try these.” And with that he withdrew from a package he was suddenly holding, a pair of black high cut shorts and a matching tank top.

As Kyle put them on, White Suit continued, the rest of the package is for you. And don’t worry, it’s charmed so that no-one can take it away from you." Having finished dressing, Kyle tried to ask whether anyone in particular was likely to want to take it away from him but he saw that White Suit was once again nowhere to be seen. But others were.

Suddenly there were cops everywhere, some with dogs, some dragging away the footballers, some heading towards the group further along the beach where a fight seemed to have broken out. Kyle felt cuffs snap onto his wrist and an older cop said, “Okay son. You’re under arrest for public lewdness.”

The cops brought a van down to the beach and bundled Kyle into it. Already inside were Callum and Paul and the two guys in Speedos. Callum, totally nude and with a raging hard-on, his hands cuffed to a rail behind him, was rocking back and forth, trying, unsuccessfully to get his lips around his own desperate cock. After a few moments their numbers were swelled when the other two footballers were brought in. One had a cut lip where he must have been hit but he was smiling dumbly and Kyle saw him lunge forward and plant a kiss on the cheek of a young Hispanic cop, who pushed him away and gave him a string of curses in English and Spanish.

Finally two straight guys were brought up, wearing the usual t-shirts and baggies. When they realised they were to be put in with Kyle and the converted footballers they began to protest, one, looking at Callum, yelling, “You can’t put us in with these freaks!”

The Hispanic cop laughed, but his laughter died when the older cop who had arrested Kyle told them, “Don’t worry. Stay up this end and Officer Suarez here will look after you.”

“What?” exclaimed Suarez, “Why me, Donovan?”

“You know the rules Suarez,” the older man replied, the written rule says they have to be accompanied and the unwritten rule says that in circumstances like this the rookie has got to do it. They’re all cuffed, they can’t get at you or each other. Keep ‘em that way. And remember, being gay ain’t catchin’." And still laughing at himself he threw in such fragments of clothing as had been recovered from the beach and slammed the doors.

Thirty minutes later the van pulled into the yard of the police station and Donovan opened the rear doors. His jaw dropped at the scene of what he regarded as utter depravity inside the vehicle.

On the bench along one side two completely naked guys were sixty-nining each other with sweaty, writhing enthusiasm. On the other side Kyle was being given head by a dark haired kid who was also, simultaneously, giving hand-jobs to two guys sitting on either side of Kyle. At the far end there was a tangle of limbs and everywhere there seemed to be cocks in mouths or asses. “What the fuck?! Suarez! Where the hell are you boy? What have you ass-bandits done with my officer you … you …” He stammered to a halt, realising that the only thing the dark haired kid was wearing was Suarez’s gun belt and a night-stick up his ass. He grabbed the kid’s shoulder, “Hey, how’d you get that?” he demanded pulling the kid around to face him. “Oh, hi Donovan,” the kid replied dreamily and then giggled as he used his hand to wipe away the cum that was running down his chin.

Donovan was horrified. The kid was Suarez, or rather he was and he wasn’t. Thirty minutes ago he had locked the twenty-four year old, hairy-chested, married, father-of-three Suarez into the van and now here he was looking at Suarez the cock-craving sixteen year old, smooth-bodied twink. He could not believe his eyes. He turned to the officers who had come out to receive the prisoners, “Get these perverts into a cell. All of them.”

“Hey Donovan, go easy. The Captain doesn’t like to hear that kind of talk,” put in one of the officers, but Donovan merely answered furiously, “Fuck off,” and stormed away.

The nine prisoners plus Suarez were cuffed, wrapped in blankets and marched into the police station. At the desk there was further confusion as several officers tried to explain to the desk sergeant that the giggling air-headed twink was their colleague and that two of the other naked gay men had actually been arrested for a homophobic attack, although no-one now had any idea which they were. Eventually the sergeant ordered all except Suarez into a holding cell, sent the former cop upstairs, under escort, to the captain and decided to wait for further instructions.

Later Captain Hilary Flagg called Officer Bernice Lassaro into her office. “Lassaro,” she asked, “were you close to Hector Suarez?”

“Was I?” asked the younger woman. “Do you mean he’s … dead?”

“Dead. No. I don’t think so. What have you heard?”

“I heard that something had happened to him. That he had turned … gay.”

“Well, that’s possible. We don’t really know. In fact I’m inclined to believe that the, ah, the person we have here CANNOT possibly be Hector Suarez. In any case, if the kid we are holding is not Suarez he and the others we are holding must know how Suarez came to be missing. However ,,,” she trailed off and seemed to focus on her desktop.

“Ma’am?” Bernice tried.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Officer Lassaro. This is not an easy thing to admit. But I’ve been a cop a long time and I’ve seen and heard about some weird stuff. And I cannot help but suspect that something very weird is happening now. I want to play it safe. So I’ve decided that only female officers will deal with Suarez and the prisoners until we have some more idea of what is going on. I’m going to deal with the case personally, and I’ve called in all the female officers working from this precinct, but just now it’s just you and me. So I want you to go down to the cells and look after those people. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am. I understand.”

“Well I’m glad you understand. I wish I did. Oh, and Bernice?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Bernice, if you, ah, if you notice anything, ah, you think is … odd … weird … you tell me, okay?”

“Weird, ma’am? Like …”

“Trust me Bernice. If you see weird you’ll know it’s weird.”

Down in the holding area Bernice found the kid who might or might not have been Suarez sleeping under a blanket in a cell of his own. In the holding pen there were nine other guys, all pretty much naked except for one blond guy who had on black shorts and a tank top. Most had erections but nothing was going on as they were all cuffed to the bars and they all seemed either asleep or dozing. Even though she knew they were gay she could not help but feel a little thrill and, in alarm, she wondered if this is what the captain had meant by weirdness. But then she asked herself what red-blooded girl would not be aroused by the sight of so many hard cocks.

As she thought this she noticed a uniformed figure enter the corridor, which she quickly recognised as Officer Donovan. Donovan was one of the oldest cops in the precinct. On his fourth marriage he nevertheless always made a point of making suggestive remarks to Bernice and she considered him a creep, though she knew he was also a good if somewhat old-fashioned cop. “Wasting your time there Lassaro”, he said quietly but with obvious anger. “Those boners ain’t for you. You want a real man let me know.”

“Can I help you Donovan? The captain said female officers only down here.”

“I wanna see Suarez. Figured I could maybe snap him out of it.”

“I don’t think so. Captain says …”

“Captain says” mimicked Donovan, angrily. Suarez is my partner and I’m gonna talk to him about what these fucking fags did to him." the last part of his statement was made at full volume and directed into the holding cell. The guy in the black tank top, Kyle as it happened, looked up and made eye contact. “Yeah, you fags,” snarled Donovan, “what did you do to him you fucking queers?”

“Err Donovan?” Bernice tried to interrupt as he continued to direct his invective at Kyle. “DONOVAN!” she yelled, finally getting through to him. “I gotta go to the bathroom. Will you cover for me?”

“What? Sure, sure. It’ll give me time to talk to Suarez.”

But Bernice did not go to the bathroom. Instead she ran to the captain’s office. Unfortunately Hilary was on the ‘phone when she arrived, with her glass panelled door closed, and Bernice was afraid to interrupt. So despite attempts to attract attention, Bernice had to wait around ten minutes for the captain to finish on the ‘phone and call her in.

“Bernice, why have you left the prisoners?”

“Ma’am you said if I saw anything weird I’d know it was weird.”

“You’ve seen something? What?”

“Well, I felt sure when I saw it but now, it seems so weird I …”

“Just tell me what you saw Bernice.”

“It was Donovan ma’am. He wanted to talk to Suarez. I wouldn’t let him. But then I saw his hair.”

“His HAIR?”

“Yes ma’am. He was shouting at the prisoners. And you know how is hair is some places like light kind of brown and in most places grey?”

“Yes.”

“Well, every time he shouted at the prisoners it all turned a little bit blond.”

“What? Are you sure? Stupid question. How long ago was this?”

Bernice looked at her watch. “Oh I don’t know exactly. Twenty minutes maybe, twenty-five at most.”

“Shit. Suarez was in the van no more than thirty. Come on!”

When the two women arrived at the cells the fire escape door at the end of the corridor was open and the holding cell was empty. Suarez was still in his cell, where he was ass-fucking another twink whose golden curls made him look even younger than Suarez appeared to be.

“Ma‘am, he‘s not one of the prisoners,” Bernice offered, indicating the new twink, “they were all grown men. Very grown,” she added unnecessarily.

“Where did they go?” demanded the captain.

Without breaking their rhythm the angelic looking blond twink opened his eyes and lisped, “they wanted to go, tho I let them out.”

“You let them out? How the fuck did YOU get IN?”

The twink giggled. “I wath already here, thilly. I work here, remember?”

“You work here?”

“Yeah captain lady. You know me. It’th me - Donovan!”

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