Interactive: Make It A Double, ch. 9 (Patreon)

***** The winning option was to keep this one going.  I've got some ideas for the next few chapters as we head towards the conclusion, but since I didn't put a vote up for a specific change this time, I went with the runner up from last time. *****

“Damn...there a convention in town or something,” Zack whistled, raising an eyebrow as he followed Ben’s gaze to the handful of thick, bottom heavy men across the bar.  Their outfits were jarring, seeming tailored specifically to show off their oversized rears.  

One of them, a fit young man with short blonde hair wearing a tight black polo, had his preppy look interrupted by a small pair of red lycra shorts that barely reached down his wide thighs as they struggled to contain the mammoth globes.  Next to him, his stout, dark-haired friend was similarly dressed, only his lower half was busy spilling out of a pair of khakis that had been turned into daisy duke style cut offs, leaving his muscled, hairy legs on display.  The third was an older man with cropped, chestnut hair and a tight button down that showed off his athletic torso above the waist, while below, his jeans had been altered to remove the back, letting his impossibly large mounds bounce free.  A pair of grey briefs could be seen wedging into the deep valley, leaving most of the pillowy orbs exposed.  

“If there is, sign me up,” Ben laughed, knowing full well where the men had come from.  He was confident they’d show up sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected to see so many of the guys from the gym so soon.  It wasn’t just the trio across the bar; men with burly, apish arms on their otherwise toned frames, or obscenely protruding pecs jutting from lean torsos filled the room.  

“Gonna have to keep an extra eye on Franky,” the lithe young man sighed.  He scanned the room, just barely able to make out the top of the shrunken beefcake’s head on the dancefloor.  The former white-collar worker was eagerly gyrating to the music as much as his squished little frame would allow, clad in nothing but his bright pink thong and sneakers.  The older man froze when he caught Zack glaring, an admonished look on his face as he scampered off the floor and went back to bussing the tables he could barely reach.  “Little brute is gonna be the death of me, I swear,” he laughed.  

“Like you mind having someone to do all the grunt work,” Ben said as he prepped another pair of drinks.  It was a bustling night and things were only going to get busier.  

“Yeah, when he works!  Half the time I have to chase him around to make sure he’s not getting fucked in the middle of the room.”  

Ben smiled at the thought of the rude, arrogant man scampering around giddily trying to get fucked, his warped body on display for everyone.  “He’s good for business, at least.”  

“Can’t argue with that.  Between him and Tim it’s bad enough, but we get more guys like them,” he said, nodding to the bottom heavy trio, “I’m gonna be the one having a hard time making it through a shift.”   

“Speaking of,” Ben said, wiping his hands on a nearby towel, “I’m takin’ a break.  You good with just you and Adam?”  He grabbed the book from behind the bar when Zack nodded and made his way over to a spot in the corner.  

He surveyed the crowd like an artist admiring their work.  In addition to the altered men from the gym he saw Logan chatting up a pair of young jocks while Tim, who’d moved to full time from amateur night, writhed and twerked on stage.  The former frat boys from sports night, now brief-clad ‘roid-queens, were out on the floor, their shrunken little nubs poking out against the bright, revealing underwear.  Throughout it all, Franky’s wide little body waddled around and Adam’s inflated cock was visible behind the bar even from across the room.  

Zack’s words rattled around Ben’s head as he watched the altered men.  His young friend had echoed his own growing feelings.  The reluctance and terror he’d felt about the book only hours before was gone, replaced by a contented resignation.  His run in with Franky had pushed him towards it, and seeing the happy, eager faces on the men around him had cemented the idea in his mind.  Ben didn’t need to go out and use the book on random strangers.  He could go about his life like he always did and wait for them to come to him.  He didn’t need to be a savior or a devil; he could just be a bartender and let fate decide things from there.  A trip to their bar could be a life changing experience.  

Ben could feel the book bristle at the thought.  It wanted to be used.  Everywhere.  Always.  The writer was just a vessel through which it exercised its will to remake the world, an animated husk standing in for the body it no longer possessed.  At least in theory.  In practice, it would wait, chipping away at the author’s resolve little by little.  It was only a matter of time, and time was something it had in abundance.  

“So who’ll it be tonight…” Ben said under his breath as he closed his eyes and pulled back the cover.  He quieted his mind and took several deep breaths, his eyes darting open in time to catch a handsome blonde loudly and rudely rebuffing a man’s attempt at buying him a drink.  The sneering pretty boy looked like Logan, with plucked brows, gelled hair, perfect skin, and a tight, athletic build.  The embarrassed man next to him was shorter and stockier, with a stout, beefy frame and a dark, trimmed beard covering his blushing cheeks.  “Perfect,” Ben smiled, his pen already gliding across the page.   

**********

“Ugh,” Alex exclaimed, rolling his eyes, “not even in your dreams, bigfoot.”  The pretty blonde threw his head back with a loud laugh and called over to Adam behind the bar.  “You should probably cut him off...if he thinks this,” he said, motioning back and forth between them, “is gonna happen he’s clearly had too much.”  

Adam shook his head, his turned back hiding the annoyed look on his face.  He’d heard the shorter man simply ask if the blonde wanted a drink.  He hadn’t been a creep or aggressive, and he certainly didn’t deserve the public shaming he was getting.  He opened his mouth to put the snotty punk in his place, but when he turned around the smug young man was gone.  He blinked at the stocky, dark haired man and the scantily clad leather boy he was leading around on a leash, feeling like he was forgetting something.  

Alex’s heart was beating out of his chest.  He wanted to beg the viking bartender for help, but the guide holding his mouth open prevented any speech.  All he could do was grunt in wide-eyed terror at the sudden change in circumstances, his stomach dropping when he saw his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.  

He’d been insulting the beefy man next to him when time suddenly seemed to slow.  The rush of satisfaction he always felt at lording his good looks over someone else turned to confusion, then fear as the room went silent.  Alex had hopped off the stool, but his world was already changing before his feet managed to hit the floor.  There was a rush of air against the smooth, tanned skin of his muscled torso as his tight t-shirt vanished.  The thin material split and spread, growing into thick leather straps that accentuated his firm pecs and trim, tapering waist.  The soft neck grew stiff and tight, forming a padded collar that bumped against the bottom of his lantern jaw when an invading metal object forced his mouth open.  

His fitted jeans followed suit, pooling around his knees as a pair of pads while most of the material vanished.  The waist turned into a thick leather belt that connected to the straps criss-crossing his sculpted torso and his small black briefs hardened as a cage around his heavy package that left the rest of his perky bubble entirely exposed.  While his expensive sneakers turned into a pair of shiny black boots, an invisible force pushed Alex’s arms to his sides.  Thick black mittens covered his hands, ending in a set of cuffs around his wrists that were bound to the back of his belt as if they’d been tied behind his back.  

Time lurched back into motion before the stunned young jock could process his suddenly exposed state.  He looked down at himself and back up at the mirror, blushing at the sensation of the men around him brushing up against his now-naked body.  The man he’d just been speaking to held a leash connected to the collar around his neck, and he felt a growing sense of familiarity wash over him the longer he stared at the beefy stranger.  This wasn’t someone who’d tried to buy him a drink.  This was Sir.  Alex knew Sir had a name, but even contemplating the thought made him tremble.  He would never dream of addressing the stocky bulldog as anything else.  

“I was just making sure you still wanted me to set Alex up tonight.”  The bound stud heard what Sir said to the overly hung man behind the bar, but he was too focused on the sensation of Sir’s palm rubbing his abs to think about what it meant.  Just being near the bearded man was enough to make him groan.  Being touched was overwhelming.  He whimpered, his cock throbbing impotently in its cage as Sir and the tall bartender finished speaking.  

Alex’s chest was heaving when the dark haired man turned around and tugged on his leash.  “Let’s get you set up,” he said, his deep rumble sending shivers through Alex’s naked body.  The panting blonde’s eyes were glued to the stocky man’s shifting cheeks, the humiliation he felt at being paraded around on a leash mixing with his lust until the two fed each other.  With each step he could tell that something had been inserted into his twitching hole, and while he was in no position to find out what it was, he enjoyed the little stabs of pleasure shooting through him as he stumbled along.  

A part of Alex wanted to resist.  The arrogant pretty boy was still in there, horrified at being trussed up in bondage gear and at the thought of being controlled in such a way.  He would never submit to something like this, let alone be so turned on by it.  But that knowledge was fleeting as he dropped to his padded knees in a corner of the room while Sir took the leash from around his neck and used it to bind his ankles to the belt at his waist, preventing him from standing even if he’d wanted to.  As he stared longingly at the burly bulldog manhandling him into position, it was the last thing Alex ever would have wanted.    

“I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit,” Sir said, giving Alex a pat on the head before pulling his phone out.  The kneeling stud watched his new master tap the screen a few times, his vision going white when the unknown object in his rear started vibrating.  He grunted and spasmed at the intense wave, his entire body lighting up with ecstasy.  His cock ached painfully in its cage, begging for release against the tide of bliss.  

When the vibrations slowed and Alex’s head cleared he found his face buried against a stranger’s crotch, their solid, musky rod sliding in and out of his open mouth.  Alex couldn’t muster the effort to be mortified.  The kneeling adonis was stoned, blissed out on a wave of pleasure.  The vibrating object would speed up and slow down at random intervals, causing him to black out with one man in his mouth and come to with another pumping away.  His gym-sculpted pecs and broad shoulders were already slick and glistening from countless releases, while what felt like gallons of sticky fluid dribbled out of his open jaw.  

**********

“There we go,” Ben said, forcing the book closed with a contented sigh.  He watched the blonde hunk writhing on his knees, seemingly oblivious to getting blasted in the face with a torrent of cum from his latest customer.  The book wanted to keep going, but Ben was satisfied.  With the exception of his new outlook, he’d left the rest of the man’s life untouched.  Now, while he appeared every bit the smug adonis at work and to the world at large, on the inside Alex lived for nothing more than to be humiliated and dominated.  He’d eagerly wear a pink jockstrap under his fitted dress slacks, the straps obviously on display if that’s what Sir wanted.  He’d gladly walk around with the vibrating plug all day, never knowing if Sir would spark it to life during a department meeting or while he was standing in line at the store.  Alex longed for those moments.  The sudden groan in public and the horrified stares.  He loved being bound on his knees and covered in cum.  It was his place.  

But the book wanted more.  It wanted him to keep writing until every man in the room had been changed, and then it wanted him to go outside and start in on the street.  

“More tomorrow,” Ben said, patting the cover.  “We’ve got all the time we need.”