Tricks & Treats At NXT Halloween Havoc (Part 1) (Patreon)

Congratulations, you’ve won two VIP tickets to this Saturday’s NXT Halloween Havoc event! Jensen read the short letter several times over before turning his attention to the tickets that had been enclosed in the envelope. While he was certain that winning a competition should have been something to celebrate, the young man was instead rather confused for the simple reason that he couldn’t remember actually entering the competition!

Still, it was a free night out and thanks to one of his internet pen pals, Jensen had slowly started to find himself growing more and more interested in professional wrestling. There was absolutely no shortage of hunks in the NXT and WWE locker rooms and that was more than enough to capture his attention. All of those sweaty bodies in tight clothes pressing up against each other… did straight fans seriously not see how homoerotic the whole thing was?

It took a little bit of convincing for Jensen’s boyfriend to agree to attend but eventually the other man relented and soon enough they were packing up their car for their unexpected weekend trip. The extended car journey was pleasant as the couple had the opportunity to sing along to their favorite hyper-pop songs at the top of their lungs and scoff on candy whenever they felt like it. After all, they weren’t the ones getting nearly naked and brawling in the ring so they didn’t need to be as vigilant with what they ate as the men and women in the NXT locker room did! Jensen of course fantasized about having a muscular body like Bron Breakker (especially since the NXT Champion liked to squeeze his musclebound frame into singlets, something Jensen had a particular kink for) but he’d heard horror stories about how restrictive their diets could be and he’d also always found local gyms to be packed full of intimidating meatheads. Being surrounded by such a crowd typically caused Jensen’s anxieties to flare up, so he’d decided to be perfectly at peace with having a softer physique and merely lust after muscular bodies rather than strive to have one for himself.

Upon arriving at the NXT arena and showing their credentials to one of the staff workers, the pair were waved towards a special VIP entrance rather than having to join the mammoth queue that had already started to build. The two men were barely able to keep the smiles off of their faces as they were led into the arena and given a backstage tour. It was still early afternoon, so a good portion of the wrestlers who would be performing on that night’s special seasonal card were yet to arrive, but Jensen did spy a few that he recognized, although none of the ones that he had been lusting over as he slowly became more and more hooked on the NXT product, which was a great shame. You’ll see them later, Jensen reminded himself, And from a VIP booth too!

After their brief tour, the couple were shown into the VIP bar and given a free glass of champagne each. There were only a few other VIP ticket holders present, some of whom were clearly bigger wrestling fans than others, if their merchandise tees were anything to go off of! Before they could get too comfortable though, the staff member who had given Jensen and his boyfriend the tour returned, this time holding a small rectangular box. “Excuse me, sir? I’ve been asked to give this to you and have you follow me,” she explained as she placed the box into Jensen’s hands. His initial instinct was to open the box right then and there but as he moved to do so, the kind-faced woman shook her head. “I was also told to not let you open the box until you’re in private.” She flashed an apologetic smile in the direction of Jensen’s boyfriend. “I’ll have your friend back with you soon.”

Jensen’s boyfriend opened his mouth, likely to sharply inform the woman that they weren’t merely ‘friends’, but seemed to think twice of it after Jensen shot him a warning look. “I’ll be right back,” he told his boyfriend, leaning over the box to place a brief kiss on the other’s lips. That got the message across in a much less awkward fashion and to her credit, the woman did look rather embarrassed by her apparent faux pas. Offering a reassuring smile to communicate that he wasn’t offended by her mistake, Jensen encouraged her to lead the way and after a final glance back at his boyfriend (with a look in his eye that warned the other to “play nice”), he followed her out of the VIP bar and back through the corridors they’d been toured through earlier.

Bizarrely the end destination seemed to be a private locker room, although there was currently no sign on the door indicating who it was for. As they had walked, Jensen’s nerves had started to build and he only grew more confused and concerned as he entered the room and was left alone in there. Had there been terms and conditions to this competition that he’d supposedly won? He was now more certain than before that he hadn’t entered any competition as he’d been unable to find any sort of email confirming entry, nor was there anything in his browser history to suggest that he had visited any site with even a passing reference to a competition. His suspicions that there might possibly be something devious going on were beginning to peak, but his curiosity was simply too strong to stop him from gingerly opening the rectangular box and getting a good look at its contents.

The reveal of a pair of wrestling trunks - mostly cream, with a green and red waistband - took Jensen by surprise, but before he could inspect them closer, a note that had been placed on top of the garment demanded his attention. It had only five words written upon it: “Trick… or treat? Love, Henry!” Jensen’s mind spun as he recognized the name on the letter. Had his internet penpal been behind this whole thing? Henry was the bigger wrestling fan between them after all. Maybe he’d actually been the one to win the competition but had realized that traveling from the UK just for the weekend would be too costly a trip, so had put Jensen’s details in instead. While that seemed to be a likely scenario, it didn’t completely add up - Henry didn’t know his address. How could he have redirected the tickets to Jensen without that essential knowledge?

Reaching for the cell phone which was normally stored in his pocket, Jensen experienced a jolt of alarm when he discovered that it wasn’t there. He must have left it in the car! That was so unlike him, but he supposed that going to a wrestling event was too, so it was apparently a weekend of him acting out of sorts. Who knew what other bizarre choices and moves he might make before the weekend was over and he had returned home with his boyfriend! I suppose it is the spooky season, things are supposed to get a little weird…

Having been completely left to his own devices in the room, Jensen began to wonder what was expected of him. He stared down at the wrestling trunks and took notice of the finer details, such as the words emblazoned in gold upon the waistband: “Veni” and “Vidi”. His limited knowledge of Latin suggested that the back should probably feature the word “Vici” to complete the famous phrase, but upon turning the garment over, he had to chuckle. Apparently whoever had designed the garment had made a spelling error, as it instead read Vinci. Although this detail was amusing, it didn’t bring Jensen any closer to understanding why he had been brought to a private room and then given such an item. It wasn’t as if he expected to put them on… was he?

Hoping to find the staff member who had brought him to the room, Jensen returned to the door and grasped the handle, only to discover that she had locked it after leaving. He was trapped in the room! Thundering on the door with his fists for a few minutes produced no results, prompting Jensen to eventually give up and return to the box. Although the thought of putting the skimpy garment on had initially seemed ridiculous to the young man, with very little else to keep him entertained, Jensen elected to strip down to his boxers. Here goes nothing, I guess, he thought to himself as he pushed down his final item of clothing and then stepped into the wrestling trunks. He pulled them up over his crotch and ass then let the green and red waistband snap into place just below his pale and doughy stomach.

One of the walls of the private locker room that served as Jensen’s temporary (and undeserved) prison was occupied by a giant mirror, allowing for him to get a thorough look at himself. Needless to say, the image was just as he’d expected: the trunks weren’t nearly as flattering on him as they would have been on somebody carrying a little less weight or who wasn’t as pale as a tablecloth! Despite being uncomfortably aware of how ridiculous he looked, Jensen attempted to keep himself in good spirits by striking a few poses that were designed to flex his mostly non-existent muscles. As he did so though, he found himself discovering that his arms weren’t actually as skinny as he’d always perceived them to be. Sure, his biceps couldn’t exactly be compared to mountains without serious bending of the truth but they could at least be described as modest hills, which was more than he’d been anticipating!

The longer Jensen stared into the mirror though, the more he began to notice how unfamiliar he had become with his own reflection. For example, how had he failed to notice how broad his shoulders were and the suggestion of trap muscles that connected them to his neck? That wasn’t all, as apparently he’d developed some rather firm calf muscles. Must be all that walking I do at work, Jensen justified to himself. His attempts to justify the unexpected elements of his reflection would soon cease though as right before his very eyes, something that should have been impossible was beginning to happen: short bristles of hair were bursting forth from the lower half of his face! Jensen had never had to deal with anything more than a few whiskers on his upper lip and even then they had grown in slowly over several weeks, not all burst out at once in the space of ten seconds. He was shocked into stillness as he regarded the stubble that now dominated his jawline creating quite an unfamiliar image.

Jensen’s confusion only intensified when he raised his hands to his face with the intention of feeling his new stubble, as his fingers found nothing but bare flesh despite his reflection clearly showing that they were pressed against neatly trimmed facial hair. Okay, this is fucking weird, he thought to himself as the hackles rose on the back of his neck. The absurdity of what he was seeing compared to actually feeling had caused a trickle of fear to begin creeping through his mind, encouraging him to tear his eyes away from the mirror. He had every intention of changing back into his clothes and then going back to hammering on the locked door until somebody came to his rescue but the string of bizarre occurrences continued, as the clothes he’d left in a pile on the floor were now completely missing!

“Yeah, nope, this is all a bit much,” Jensen muttered to himself as he crossed over to the door and tried the handle once more. Unsurprisingly it was still locked but before he could begin beating his fists against it, he was overcome by a compulsion to look back towards the mirror. Any attempt to resist was completely dominated and Jensen turned his head to look back towards the reflective surface. A gasp escaped his lips at what he saw - there had been even more changes to his body that left him looking completely different! The most obvious of these was that his stomach was now not only completely flat but also featured the subtle suggestion of abdominal muscles just under the surface, as well as a generally tighter waistline. Beyond this, he also had a pair of meaty thighs and a prominent bulge, as well as a golden tan that had eliminated his ghostly pallor. Upon glancing down at himself though Jensen was able to confirm that these changes were bizarrely exclusive to his reflection; he was still the same pale and chubby guy he’d always been!

“What the fuck is going on?!” Jensen desperately asked his reflection, only to be stopped in his tracks. The man in the mirror was no longer copying him. His reflection hadn’t shown his mouth opening and closing as he spoke but rather his duplicate’s bearded face had spread into a smirk. The expression was totally alien on Jensen’s features but that soon wasn’t the only thing causing an uncanny valley factor to occur, as he realized in shock that his mirror image’s facial features were visibly changing! His cheekbones were higher and his brow more pronounced while his nose had lost some of its width and became slightly pointier. Soon it was like Jensen was staring into the face of a complete stranger - there was barely anything of himself left in his reflection!

The last part of Jensen that could still be somewhat recognized was the mop of sandy blond hair upon his head, but even that didn’t last for much longer. As his reflection brought his hands - larger and more callused than Jensen’s own - up to his head and began running his fingers through that forest of hair, the strands were being ripped loose from his scalp. Over the next few seconds more and more hair would drop down into piles that had formed around his reflection’s feet until the unfamiliar man in the mirror was left completely bald, with his stubble and eyebrows being the only hair upon his handsome head.

Staring into the arrogant eyes of his transformed reflection sent a ripple of fear down Jensen’s spine. He had been so distracted by the grotesque imagery of the hair being pulled out of his reflection’s scalp that he’d failed to notice the blossoming of a pair of firm pecs like slabs of prime beef upon his chest. Clearly relishing in taunting the real Jensen, the man in the mirror began to bounce his pecs - one by one at first, then together. It was a visual that the real Jensen had always found incredibly arousing and even despite all the absurdity of his current situation, there was a notable rising beneath the fabric of the trunks. Really? Getting turned on at a time like this?! Jensen had to despair at his own subconscious - could it really not focus on the task at hand, such as working out what the ever-loving fuck was going on?

As the certified hunk in the mirror (because there was really no denying that he was an absolutely gorgeous specimen of muscular masculinity) beckoned him forwards, Jensen found his legs operating outside of his own command. Within moments he was mere inches away from the reflective surface and the stud contained within, who he could now see was actually an inch or two shorter than him, although carried much more muscle mass. If he had to guess, Jensen speculated that his transformed reflection stood at around an even six foot and was somewhere in the region of two-hundred and twenty pounds, which was a dramatic increase on his own one-hundred and ninety. There seemed to be very minimal body fat on this unfamiliar reflection too and the abs that Jensen had previously noticed forming were now prominent as a perfectly symmetrical six-pack, the likes of which the young gay man had drooled over so many times before but never believed he could possibly possess. 

“Don’t you want to touch?” the hunk in the mirror asked, his deep and rumbling voice tinged with a slight Italian accent that sent yet another shiver down Jensen’s spine. He still wasn’t entirely sure if he should believe what he was seeing and hearing. It all seemed so impossible, like something he would dream about rather than experience, yet it also felt unmistakably real - he could feel the sweat on his palms and the throbbing of his cock within the trunks. The man in the mirror stepped closer and Jensen was compelled to mimic the action, bringing them practically nose to nose. Completely enthralled by the masculine beauty on the other side of the reflective surface, Jensen was helpless to do anything other than copy the man’s actions by raising his hands and pressing them against the cold surface of the mirror.

Then, at the exact moment his hands made contact, the world around Jensen vanished into an intense orange fog and a cruel laugh echoed in his ears...