Lady Spades (Patreon)

*** This was started as a WIP vignette a few months ago, but it now has a proper ending for everyone to check out. ***

“Finley...have you lost your goddamn mind?”  Colt crossed his arms and leaned against the bathroom door, the towering wall of muscle filling the frame as he watched his friend set up a small altar on the counter.  “You’re starting to freak me out, bud.”  

Finley shrugged at the larger man.  “You don’t have to believe me, I just need another person to be here.  It says I need a witness, whatever that means.”  The lean brunette went back to arranging his candles, his sharp features set in a mask of surprising determination considering the circumstances.  

“Listen, if this was still fifteen-year-old Colt and Finley, I’d be all in.  You know that.  But, uh, don’t you think twenty four’s a little old for this kinda shit?”  Colt reached out and swallowed Finley’s shoulder in a meaty grip, fixing the shirtless man with a sympathetic smile.  “I know you’re still upset about Heather, but you’ve gotta move on, man.”  

Finley pulled out of Colt’s grip, his deceptively thin arm flexing as he tore it away.  He wasn’t as built as his shaggy-haired friend, but his athletic frame was still covered in solid, sculpted muscle.  His shoulders were broad, his waist tapered, and he sported a ripped six-pack, all of which were covered in a wiry dusting of chestnut hair that was just enough to accentuate his masculine features without being excessive.  Coupled with his razor cheekbones, prominent nose, and brooding eyes, the handsome jock could have easily found a replacement for his ex-girlfriend, but his wounded pride wouldn’t let him move on.  “I gotta get her back,” Finley said, shaking his buzzed head and staring at himself in the mirror.  

Colt sighed and stepped behind his friend, his broad frame sticking out around Finley’s reflection.  He was every bit as sculpted as the smaller man, but stood a few inches taller at six-foot-three and had considerably more bulk, looking like a Ken doll come to life.  His shoulders were bowling balls, his pecs a prominent shelf above his trim waist, and he had arms the size of Finley’s thighs, while his own powerful legs were meaty tree trunks that supported his plump, ample rear.  His perpetually tanned skin was naturally smooth, and if he’d shared his friend’s wolfish features he would have looked intimidating, but instead Colt had a charming, all-american face, complete with a lantern jaw, easy smile, and a messy mop of sandy blonde hair.  “Dude,” Colt said, this time putting both hands on Finley’s shoulders and giving them a gentle massage.  “How many times do I have to tell you this?  You.  Cheated.  On.  Her.  Not the other way around.”  The burly jock gave his friend’s shoulders a squeeze, cutting off the interruption he knew was coming.  “Bro, I’m not judging.  You got drunk and made a mistake...it happens.  But you can’t blame her for deciding to leave.”  

Finley sighed and leaned against the other man, his bare back brushing against Colt’s loose tank-top.  With anyone else such contact would have been awkward, but he’d been friends with the strapping hunk since elementary school.  As they grew older they did everything together, until they were as intimately familiar with each other as they were with themselves.  They played on the same teams, shared beds and showers, jerked off while watching porn, fucked girls at the same time in the same room, and now lived together.  From the outside it may have looked odd for him to be wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and getting a shoulder rub from his Adonis of a friend, but to them it was perfectly natural.  “It’s not fair!  I’m not just some piece of shit.  So I fucked someone else...it’s not like it meant anything.  Why can’t she see that?”  

Colt laughed and let go of Finley’s shoulders so he could put the other man in a headlock instead, giving his friend’s buzzed scalp a rough noogie.  “And to prove you’re not a piece of shit you’re going to invoke supernatural powers that you read about in some creepypasta on the internet to make her do something against her will?  This is your plan?”  

Finley grunted and squirmed free, punching Colt in his thick upper arm.  “You don’t have to say it like that.  She loves me.  I’m not making her do anything she doesn’t already want to, whether she knows it or not.”  

“Wow,” Colt said, rolling his eyes.  “Now I’m judging a little.”  

“Judge all you want.  I just need you to stand here while you do it.”  The shirtless jock finished arranging the candles in a small triangle under the mirror.  He checked his phone to make sure that it was almost midnight before he began lighting them in slow succession, motioning for Colt to shut the door and turn the light off.

“How is this supposed to work again?”  Colt asked as they were plunged into darkness.  The small candles cast deep, flickering shadows that made it seem as if the small room was in constant motion.  He didn’t really think anything would happen, but that didn’t stop a slight shiver from running through him.  

“All you have to do is stand there.  I’m going to write her name on the mirror, and then when I tell you, just repeat after me.  I’ll do the rest.”  Finley picked up a tube of lipstick and held it out to the mirror.  “Ready?”  

“Dude, that is going to be a bitch to clean off,” Colt said as his friend started writing.  “Wait...whose name is that?  I thought you were writing Heather’s?”  

“What part of ‘just stand there’ didn’t make sense?  We’re not calling Heather, we’re calling the Lady,” he said, holding up the Queen of Spades playing card.  “We close our eyes, I hold out the card, we both call her to show up seven times, and if everything goes right she’ll show up and grant a wish to the person holding the card.”  

Colt raised an eyebrow as he watched the shadows dance across his friend’s face, Finley’s sharp features looking sinister in the dim light.  “And if it doesn’t go right?” 

“How simple can it be?  We light some candles, write on a mirror, and say a lady’s name.  It’s not hard.  Now shut the fuck up and close your eyes.”  Finley turned back to the mirror, scrawling out “Lady Spades” in big, chunky letters.  He grabbed the playing card from the counter and held it out in front of him, the Queen facing the mirror.  “Ready? Close your eyes...dude, I mean it, close ‘em...okay...we need to say this next part seven times,” Finley paused, waiting for Colt to fully close his eyes.  “Lady Spades appear,” they chanted in unison.  

There was a long silence.  The two could hear their pulse pounding in their ears and the quiet sound of their breath as they stood and waited, the minutes dragging on in the dark.  After an indeterminate period of absolutely nothing happening other than his embarrassment reaching epic proportions, Colt opened his mouth to break the silence when the flickering light against his eyelids suddenly went still.  The flames froze in place, a sultry, velvet laughter filling the room.  Both of their eyes shot open at the sound, in time to watch the figure on the card begin to move in the mirror.  The one in Finley’s hand remained unchanged, but the reflected Queen blinked her jet black eyes, looking at the young men from her small window of the playing card as a pair of black hands appeared at the edges.  Finley yelped and let go, the card still floating in place as the Queen in the mirror pulled herself free, growing to human size in the process.  

Her skin was an alabaster porcelain, her face a gorgeous mask save for the inky pits where her eyes should have been.  Her raven hair was long and flowing, her features soft, with plump, black lips and a button nose. She wore an ornate, obsidian crown and a flowing dress that, from what they could see in the window that was the mirror, seemed to be made of the same glassy material.  The laughter died away as she tilted her head every so slightly, a slender hand reaching up to press against the mirror from the other side.  

Colt wanted to run, but he was too stunned to do anything other than stare.  He nudged Finley with his foot, his wide eyes glued to the now-blank card hovering above the counter.  “Uh...ri...right,” Finley stammered, clearing his throat to try and keep his voice from shaking.  “La...Lady Spades, I wish that Heather and I would be back together again.  I know she still loves me, she just…” 

The shirtless jock was cut off when the Queen clutched her fingers, her black nails screeching against the far side of the glass as her other hand slammed up next to it.  The candles flared, the light reflecting off a pale face that was being lined by ebony cracks, as if it truly was made of porcelain.  The velvet laughter turned into a shrill cackle as her lips parted, eventually becoming a deafening shriek that extinguished the flames.  

Finley’s heart raced as he stood frozen in place.  The queen’s shrieking laughter echoed in his head, leaving him dizzy and disoriented as he tried to figure out what happened.  He’d followed the instructions to the letter.  Like Colt, there was a large part of himself that didn’t think anything would happen at all, but something had actually shown up in response to their call.  And it wasn’t just him who’d experienced it.  They’d both seen her in the mirror, and the card floating in midair.  They’d both heard the laughter.  But something had clearly gone wrong, and Finley had a sinking feeling that he knew why.  

“Fuck!” he yelped, jumping and wincing at the brightness when Colt abruptly turned the light on.  

“What are you doing in here?” Colt asked, looking the shirtless man up and down with a raised eyebrow.  “And what are you wearing?”  

“What do you mean?  We were just trying to…” Finley’s stomach dropped when he saw the now-empty counter.  The mirror was free from any lipstick, and there wasn’t a single trace of the candles or the playing card.  He looked down at himself, still clad in his gym shorts, and back up at Colt, unable to read his friend’s expression.  “You really don’t remember?  The candles?  The terrifying woman that was just in the mirror?  None of that’s ringing a bell?  You were standing right there the whole time!”  

Colt shook his head.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I just walked in here and found you standing in the dark, entirely overdressed.  I don’t…” he trailed off, grinning.  “Ohhhh...did I ruin the surprise?  Were you getting dressed so you could take it off for me?”  

“I…” Finley didn’t know how to respond.  He didn’t understand why Colt was surprised at his outfit, but he was more concerned with the way his stomach fluttered just looking at his friend.  He knew from an objective standpoint just how handsome the other man was, but he’d never truly felt it before.  Now, the sight of Colt’s burly frame and the sound of the other man’s deep voice hit him like a punch in the gut.  

“That’s alright, it doesn’t have to be a surprise to be fun.”  Finley gasped when Colt reached out and grabbed the front of both his shorts and boxers by the waist, pulling them open as he was tugged along behind the other man.  The sensation of his friend’s rough fingers brushing just above the base of his confusingly twitching cock sent darts of pleasure through the shirtless young man as he stumbled down the hall to their small living room.  Finley was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening as Colt pushed the coffee table out of the way, turned on some music, and dropped to the couch, his meaty thighs spread and his heavy arms draped on the back.  “Okay, stud, let’s see it,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.  

Finley’s heart was on rapidfire in his chest as he felt his trim hips begin to sway.  He screamed at himself in vain, his impulse to stop massively outweighed by a sudden need to do whatever Colt told him.  He was mortified as he ran his hands slowly up and down through the trail of hair on his abs, and across his solid pecs, before flexing his arms behind his head.  The whole time his hips were on a gyroscope, swiveling him closer and closer to Colt and causing his rapidly hardening cock to bounce noticeably against his shorts.  He stopped just out of arm’s reach, grabbing the waist of his shorts and stretching it wide as he inched each side down in time with his rolling hips.  The loose, plaid boxers underneath were tented by the thick, aching rod that wagged and bounced wildly as he gyrated, but one look at Colt’s smug, eager expression was all it took to drive him on.  He licked his lips as he watched one of his friend’s arms drift down from the back of the couch to begin kneading the growing lump in his own loose shorts while he watched Finley strut and shake.  

It was all making horrible sense.  The stripping jock hadn’t been entirely honest in his wish, and now he was paying the price.  Not wanting to take his eyes off Colt, he gazed seductively over a shoulder as he turned and slowly slipped the back of his boxers down over his perky bubble.  He gave the solid little cheeks a shake, still unable to stop himself from pushing the front down and letting his long, thick cock spring free.  Finley knew it was a sight that Colt had seen many times before, but never quite like this.  He wasn’t embarrassed at his friend seeing him naked and hard; he was embarrassed by how much he wanted to see the other man in a similar state.  He grinned bashfully as he stepped close to the couch, nearly trembling with anticipation.  

“The boxers were a nice touch,” Colt said, eliciting a gasp when he reached out and grabbed Finley’s throbbing pole.  “I don’t know what you were going to do with the mirror or whatever it was you were talking about in the bathroom, but this wasn’t bad.”  

The lean stud whimpered, the feeling of Colt’s calloused hand around his cock making his knees weak.  Though they’d seen each other hard and had jerked off together in the past, they’d never actually touched each other’s equipment.  Finley never imagined that it could feel so good.  “Did...did I do good,” he stammered, surprising himself with the insecure question.  The experienced hunk was normally brimming with confidence when his clothes were off, but in front of Colt’s hungry eyes he felt like a nervous teenager.  

“What do you think,” Colt laughed, nodding down at his tented shorts.  “Now you just have to finish the job.”  Finley was on his knees in a flash, his shaking hands clawing at Colt’s shorts.  He was humiliated by his friend’s condescending laughter as the other man lifted himself up enough for his shorts and boxer briefs to be pulled free, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his lips around the thick beast that shot free.  “Whooooooo...you...you sure know your way around my dick,” the brawny stud groaned, holding Finley’s head in place.  

The kneeling jock didn’t understand how he could possibly know his way around something he’d never touched, let alone had in his mouth, but he couldn’t deny how familiar it all felt.  The musky scent, the salty taste, the feeling of Colt’s hands on his head and strong thighs swallowing his face; it all felt horrifyingly natural, and Finley didn’t know if he was excited or terrified by what was coming.  

“O...okay...enough playing around,” Colt grunted, peeling out of his tank-top.  He leaned forward, his chest and shoulders inflating with muscle as he grabbed Finley and manhandled his friend up off the floor.  With a quick shove he spun the other man around before pulling him roughly down onto his lap, his fat cock slipping easily inside.  

“HHHHOOOOOHHHHHHHUUhhhh!”  Finley let out a cracking, siren wail as Colt wrapped his arms around him, holding him on his lap while the hulking jock pumped and bucked his hips.  It was several moments before the impaled jock realized he was screaming out of ecstasy, not pain, his humiliation growing when the realization did nothing to lessen his cries.  If anything, the awareness of his bliss only made him howl louder, his desperate whimpers bouncing off the walls while Colt pumped away on his oozing member.  

The dual, foreign sensations of having his dick worked while his friend’s cock hammered his insides was too much to handle.  Finley leaned back against the other man’s broad frame, helpless to do anything other than grunt and writhe until Colt finally exploded, filling him long after his own overloaded organ had erupted.  He was mortified at the sound of his gasping whimpers even after they’d finished, and at the way he kept squirming hungrily against his friend’s softening organ. 

“Goddamn baby, that ass was on fire,” Colt sighed, giving Finley a tight squeeze before shifting the other man off his lap.  “Why don’t you be a doll and go get me a beer before you start cleaning this mess up?”  

“O...okay!” Finley said, nodding like a bobblehead as he staggered out of the room.  The compulsion to do what Colt said further confirmed his earlier fear about his wish gone wrong.  Out loud, he’d wished that he and Heather would get back together, but that’s not where his wish stopped.  What he pictured in his mind was a Heather who was hopelessly devoted, completely infatuated, and always eager.  Now, flitting naked around the kitchen with Colt’s cum leaking out of his battered hole, Finley knew he’d gone too far.  He wouldn’t be spending his days with a lovesick girlfriend, but as Colt’s doe-eyed boy-toy.  His face burned with humiliation even as his stomach fluttered at the casual way his friend had referred to him as “baby” and “doll,” a far cry from the “dude” and “bro” he normally used.  “Here you go,” Finley chirped, hating how disappointed he was at the sight of Colt once again wearing his shorts.  The brawny blonde was still topless, but the lean jock already ached to get his friend as naked as he was.  

“Thanks babe,” Colt said dismissively, his attention focused on the TV as Finley dropped to his knees and began wiping up the mess they’d just made.  His eyes kept drifting back to Colt’s meaty thighs and thick bulge, the sight of his friend filling him with an unfamiliar insecurity.  The shirtless stud was suddenly radiant, perfect in every way, and Finley couldn’t believe how lucky he was that someone so magnificent would want anything to do with him.  

The naked hunk knew the thought was wrong even as he had it.  Finley knew that he and Colt were on the same level, mentally and physically, but he was quickly learning that knowing and feeling were two entirely different sensations.  On his knees gazing longingly up at the handsome blonde, Finley felt worlds away from where he’d been just hours before.  

When he was done wiping up he grabbed his discarded clothing, but instead of putting them on he carried them down the hall, his head spinning when he passed the room that was no longer his own.  His bed was gone, as was his dresser and desk, along with the rest of his belongings.  He understood why when he made it to Colt’s room, discovering a larger king bed and a small dresser with the remains of his wardrobe.  His friend’s earlier comment about him being overdressed made sense as he looked down at the few drawers filled with nothing but briefs, thongs, jockstraps, and an assortment of considerably more exotic gear.  

It was nothing he hadn’t wished for Heather.  In his mind she would have spent her time prancing around the house in a teddy or lingerie, and now it was only fair that he’d be doing the same.  Finley blushed from head to toe when he stepped into a pink leopard print thong, his girthy package thrust forward by the large pouch while the back slipped between his perky cheeks.  And though the soft material and thin strings accentuated his tight waist and full, heavy bulge, Finley felt far from masculine in the humiliating getup.  He stopped by the kitchen on the way back to grab Colt another beer, but his friend put up a hand before he could join him on the couch.  

“Did you get the dishes done,” Colt asked, his stern tone and raised eyebrow hitting Finley like a slap in the face.  

“Oh! Uh...right.  I’ll go get the kitchen cleaned up,” the addled stud stammered, turning on his heel and practically running out of the room.  His face burned as he stood at the sink, frantically scrubbing the small pile of dishes, torn between his embarrassment at his outfit and actions and his overwhelming desire to be wherever Colt was.  He was granted momentary reprieves whenever the other man would call for him to bring him another drink, or snacks, but instead of being annoyed at the constant demands, each one filled Finley with a giddy contentment.  

When the kitchen was finally spotless he scampered back to the living room, grinning from ear to ear when Colt patted the cushion next to him.  He folded his legs beneath him and leaned into the other man, drinking in the sensation of the blonde’s solid body against his own.  It didn’t matter that they weren’t talking like they should be, that they were no longer an equal pair of bros bullshitting with each other and watching the game.  Colt’s tone was condescending and dismissive, his attention more focused on the people he was texting with than the man gazing longingly at him.  Finley knew it was wrong on a fundamental level; he just couldn’t bring himself to care.  Condescending or not, all he wanted was to hear the deep rumble of his friend’s voice, and he wasn’t paying attention to the game anyway as his focus was locked on the other man.  He stroked along Colt’s slab of a chest and rubbed the blonde’s solid abs, his hand drifting further south until he was toying with the front of his friend’s shorts.  

The shirtless jock sighed and gave Finley a look that made it clear he was humoring the other man.  “You really can’t get enough of my dick, can you baby?”  

“It just tastes so good, and you took it away so quick earlier,” Finley pouted, wishing he could be more horrified at the way he talked and at how desperate he was to get his lips around his friend again.  

Colt laughed and tousled his friend’s hair, leaning in to kiss the other man’s cheek.  “Really?  I thought I did a good job of giving it to you,” he said, nibbling on Finley’s ear.  “But I can’t say no when you give me that look.”  

Finley actually giggled when Colt nodded at his shorts.  The lean brunette eagerly pulled them down his friend’s thighs, his face dropping to the twitching organ.  The musky scent and bitter taste was more pungent than before as Colt’s cock was still ripe from their earlier romp, but that didn’t slow Finley down in the slightest.  He flopped onto his stomach, kicking his legs in the air like an excited school girl as he licked and nuzzled the stout organ back to full mast.  He wasn’t even trying to get Colt off; he just genuinely wanted the other man’s bulbous head back in his mouth.  He loved everything about it; the way it looked, the way it smelled, the way it tasted, and the way Colt’s hand felt stroking the back of his head.  There was a part of his brain that was still screaming that he shouldn’t be face down in the other man’s lap, but stopping himself was very much out of the question.

It didn’t even matter that Colt largely acted as if nothing was happening.  He kept watching the game and texting like it was entirely normal for Finley to be eagerly sucking his cock like a pacifier.  The addled jock lost all track of time as he worked his friend, his attention not snapping back to the present until he finally registered Colt’s conversation.  

“...no, dude, look at this,” Colt laughed, turning his phone to face Finley’s head in his lap.  The licking brunette was mortified when he saw their friend Chuck on facetime, his stomach dropping at the thought of what he’d been caught doing.  “He’s been doing that for like an hour now man, it’s crazy,” Colt said from behind the phone.  

The beefy man on the screen grinned and shook his head.  “He sure looks like he’s having a good time.”  

Colt ruffled Finley’s hair and turned his head to face the camera.  “Of course he is, aren’t you honey?”  

Finley wanted to crawl under the couch and hide, but all he could do was smile and nod.  It was hard enough to wrap his head around what was happening with just Colt, but to have been caught by their mutual friend only reminded him of his humiliating circumstances.  “Uh-huh!” he chirped, batting his eyes at the phone.  

“Dude, come over tomorrow and you can try it out yourself,” Colt said, nodding for Finley to pick up where he’d left off as he turned the phone away.  The eager jock resumed his bobbing, torn once more at the thought of having his face buried between Chuck’s beefy thighs.  It was one thing with Colt, but the thought of yet another man’s thick cock in his mouth left him both dreading and confusingly longing for the experience.  Ultimately it wouldn’t matter; if Colt told him to do it, there’d be no questions asked.  

“Sounds like a plan, bro.  Have him wear something sexy for me,” Chuck laughed.  

“Dude, that’s ALL he wears.  Do you see this ass?”  Finley yelped and giggled when Colt swiveled the phone towards his upturned bottom and gave his cheeks a slap.   

“You’re a lucky man,” Chuck sighed, biting his lip.  

“Don’t I know it,” Colt said, the words nearly bringing Finley to tears.  All the humiliation he’d been wanting to feel fled in an instant, replaced by his new, overwhelming devotion.  “Alright dude, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  Colt ended the call and smiled down at his friend, batting his slick rod against the other man’s face.  “I know you’re having fun, but I’m ready to call it for the night,” he said, reaching down and pulling the string of the thong from between Finley’s round, solid little cheeks.  

“Awww, do we have tooooOOHHH!”  The lean jock spasmed when his friend’s stout fingers slipped in to fill the space where his cock had recently been, gasping helplessly at the way the invading digits lit him up.  

“Well?  You going to finish or not?  I’m not going to keep this up all night,” Colt said, an expectant grin on his face.  Finley responded by swallowing nearly all of his friend, working  his tongue with renewed vigor while his cock oozed in the confining pouch.  Like his mouth, the addled jock was both devastated and delighted to realize he could happily spend hours having his insatiable hole worked while his impressive cock was little more than an afterthought.  He sucked down every last drop when the strapping blonde finally came, savoring the already familiar taste.  “I’m too good to you,” Colt sighed, pulling his hand and cock free as he stood and stretched.  He laughed as he stepped out of his shorts and underwear and saw the wide-eyed look that Finley gave him as the other man sat up, his solid cock outlined in the damp, tented thong. He reached down and slipped the pouch from his friend’s aching member, exposing the oozing head  “Go on...finish yourself off or you’ll never let me get any sleep,” he said, sticking the fingers that had just been between Finley’s cheeks into his friend’s mouth.  

Finley was mortified at the way he instantly started sucking as he reached down and began pumping away on himself while Colt stared at him with a smug, condescending smile.  They’d jerked off while watching porn together, but he’d never jerked off specifically while his friend watched, nor had he ever imagined how much it would turn him on.  He whimpered and squirmed, his eyes locked with his friends, sucking furiously on the blonde’s fingers until his cock erupted.  

“There it is,” Colt yawned, patting Finley’s head like he was petting a dog.  “You can clean this up in the morning.”  He pulled the dazed brunette to his feet and led him down the hall to their bedroom, collapsing onto the bed in a heap while his friend slipped out of the pointless thong.  Finley felt like he should put something else on, but he found himself climbing naked into bed and curling up against the other man, having to fight harder and harder to remind himself that this wasn’t how things should have been.  

The wave of contentment that hit when Colt threw an arm around him and pulled him close was so intense that Finley doubted he’d remember anything had happened at all when he woke up.  Already, his life from just a few hours ago seemed like a dream, and his last thought before drifting off to sleep was that maybe he’d gotten his real wish after all.