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James didn’t know where he was headed.  He knew where he was going, he had a physical destination in mind, but as far as the big picture went his future was a giant question mark.  He’d just done a ten-year stint in federal lockup for helping his con-artist father defraud an impressive amount of would-be investors, though James now realized he was just as much a victim as the rest of them.  It came out during the trial that his dad had been planning all along to take the money and run while James was left holding the bag.  His old man had used him for his superior looks and charm, knowing full well that the presence of a built young stud in his early twenties was both motivating and disarming.

At the time, James had no idea.  He knew about his dad’s illegal activities, but the possibility that he’d be left high and dry like everyone else never once occurred to him.  He was too busy living it up with the old man, hopping from city to city and throwing around wads of cash while fucking anything that moved.  Guy or girl, it didn’t matter as long as they showed the appropriate amount of appreciation for James’s wealth and charm.  Though he thought of himself as mostly straight, the smoldering, dark-haired hunk relished the opportunity to use his ill-gotten gains as a way to conquer guys who otherwise would have been his competition.  He’d quickly learned that there were plenty of “straight” men out there willing to suck him dry or ride his long, perfect cock if it meant a little money or status being thrown their way.  It also left him with plenty of blackmail fodder that could be used down the road unless the preening, lantern-jawed jocks, many of them married with up-and-coming careers, wanted the video of themselves howling at the end of another man’s dick to be made public.

It was all such a rush, and his dad had been so convincing, that James never thought to ask the questions he knew he would have under any other circumstance.  He was just as cunning as his father and far from naive, but he’d made the same mistake as everyone else by trusting the old man.  It was a hard lesson to learn, and one that hurt more than any loss of money or freedom ever could.  Not only had he been a pawn the whole time instead of a partner, his status as flesh-and-blood meant absolutely nothing in the end.

Fortunately, James had a decade to process things.  He’d jumped at the opportunity to cut a deal with the prosecutors the instant he’d seen things for what they really were, earning himself a much shorter sentence than his father and at a much more relaxed facility.  Instead of a crowded state penitentiary, James landed at a small, backwoods federal prison reserved for low-level offenders.  It was as close to ideal as he could get, like being confined to a bootleg hotel he could never leave.

Coupled with his natural charm and adaptable nature, the cunning young stud carved out a pleasant existence for himself.  He spent most of his days working out or taking virtual classes to keep his mind busy, and he was more grateful than ever for the skills he’d developed with all those men over the years.  He may have been the one with a cock in his mouth or spreading his hole wide, but at least he wasn’t coming in cold, and with no women around he was grateful for whatever opportunity he could get.  It didn’t take long for James to learn who could be bought off with his body, leaving him more or less with the run of the place in exchange for blowing and getting fucked by a handful of guards.  Though it was a jarring shift in perspective, the dark-haired Adonis didn’t see it as embarrassing, but as him still exercising some measure of control.  Getting tag-teamed by a pair of beefy guards was a transaction just like anything else, and if putting his dominant side on hold for a while meant making the next decade easier, he was happy to do so.

James had built such a comfortable routine that, when the time came, he didn’t actually want to leave.  Leaving meant facing a world where he had no influence, supports or resources.  He didn’t have a job, or any credit to speak of, or even a place to go.  The closest thing he had to friends or family were the guys either locked up with him or the ones keeping him locked up while using him to get off.  And then there was the issue of the fines and court costs he’d be paying for the rest of his life, so even if he could land a job with his criminal background it was unlikely that he’d be keeping much of his paycheck.

At one point James would have relished the challenge.  Now in his mid-thirties he was as stunning as ever, even more so since he had so much free time to sculpt himself to perfection.  His body was a shredded, tapering work of art, with a statuesque face that had only grown more distinguished with age.  And in addition to his body he’d worked out his mind, completing the coursework for what would have amounted to a business degree had he attended college instead of conning people out of their money.  On the surface, he had all the tools he needed to rebuild a life for himself.  All he lacked was the desire.

After being turned inside out by his father’s betrayal, the one thing James hadn’t managed to learn was how to trust people again.  He knew how to use them, how to get them to do what he wanted, but not how to actually connect with someone.  Looking back over the course of his life he questioned whether he’d ever really known how, and the thought was terrifying.  He was afraid that as long as that piece was missing it would only be a matter of time before he fell back into old habits, and it was less that he was worried about hurting people again and more that he knew such a cushy outcome was unlikely a second time around.

It had been Toby, one of his frequent guard hookups, who’d pointed him in the direction of New Faith, Inc.  He and the burly ginger had one final romp the previous afternoon, the day before James’s release, and in a rare moment of weakness the chiseled stud had broken down and confessed his fears.  He blamed it on the fact that the thick wall of muscle had just fucked him senseless, but almost before he knew what he was doing James heard himself laying it all out.  Luckily the younger bruiser was sweet enough not to hold it against him, and in exchange for a final set of pictures he’d let James call the 1-888-NEW-FAITH hotline.

James had heard rumors from other inmates about the odd organization, and how it was possible to set up an appointment with them and get a fresh start, but the anxious hunk didn’t have the time or the resources to make it to wherever their offices might be located.  He didn’t believe the parts about it being run by demons and devils, but even if it was, he was about to be out on the street and needed help from whoever could provide it, which is where the hotline came in.  The services weren’t as comprehensive or nuanced as they were with a full consultation, but the gravel-voiced representative on the other end assured James that his karmic debt was large enough, and that there was someone willing to take him on.  Specific results beyond that couldn’t be guaranteed over the phone, he was told, but the representative assured him that he would be well taken care of and didn’t need to worry about the things that got him into trouble in the first place.  Not having any other options James had agreed, and the next morning he was out.

The instructions from New Faith, Inc. had been vague at best.  James had been told to head to the nearest town and just start walking.  They’d said the direction didn’t matter, that he’d wind up at the proper destination once he was ready.  It didn’t make sense given that the closest towns were rural and sparsely populated, but James was in no position to argue.  He’d bummed a ride from another guard, an overly hung blonde named Zack, in exchange for a last, choking blowjob.  James was surprised at how odd it felt to be gagging on a man’s cock while dressed in a button down and chinos after wearing nothing but a prison jumpsuit for so long, but based on the copious load he swallowed it clearly hadn’t affected his technique.  After wiping his dripping mouth and saying goodbye, he’d hopped out of the car and started walking as instructed.

Now, he was beginning to both understand and second guess his decision.  After walking for nearly an hour James had turned a corner on a whim, rounding an abandoned warehouse on an empty street and stepping out onto a busy thoroughfare in a bustling metropolis.  Instead of rolling farmland and patches of forest in the distance he saw towering, familiar skyscrapers that somehow put him on the other side of the country.

He froze, his head spinning and his heart racing from the impossibility of it all.  “What…what the fuck…” he gasped when he looked down and discovered that a change to his wardrobe had occurred along with his surroundings.  Instead of wearing the chinos and button down that Rich and Kyle had kindly given him after a final Eiffel Tower during their shifts the night before, James was now clad in a baggy gray t-shirt, the sleeves of which had been cut off, and a pair of worn, stained jeans.  The shirt was covered in all manner of stains, taking the original heather gray to a mottled graphite, and even his generic non-slip sneakers had been swapped out for a pair of weathered steel-toe boots.  James wanted to stop and further inspect the changes, but his body was once again in motion whether he wanted it to be or not.  The fastidious stud felt ridiculous in the ill-fitting rags and clunky boots, thinking that he would have preferred even his old prison jumpsuit to the stained attire, but he soon had more pressing concerns.

As he strolled down block after block, James began to notice the clothes feeling less and less baggy.  The loose t-shirt began to tighten across his pecs, the sensation of straining fabric eventually spreading south to encompass his midsection while the once-roomy thighs of his jeans became increasingly constricting.  When he finally noticed and looked down, James was surprised that he didn’t scream.  He felt like the sight of a meaty slab where his sculpted pecs should have been warranted such a reaction, and if it didn’t by itself then the addition of a thick, cresting musclegut underneath certainly would have pushed things into that territory.  Instead, all James could do was blink at the beefy, undefined logs of muscle where his chiseled arms should have hung, and at the wide, hefty trunks that had replaced his toned quads.  Somehow, he wasn’t shredded and tapering anymore but had become broad and burly, his gait going from an easy stroll to a heavy lumber.

And he was still changing.  James wanted more than anything to stop and try to get his bearings, but his body continued to plod down the sidewalk, leaving him with no other option than to use his reflection in passing windows to take in his impossibly altered appearance.  At first it seemed like the changes had stayed below his neck, until James passed a window and saw a smooth, shiny scalp where his short-cropped hair should have been.  The glossy dome looked jarring against razor-sharp, symmetrical features, but not for long.  James’s stomach sank when he passed the next window and saw the blunted stump that had replaced his distinguished nose.  This was followed by the disappearance of his cheekbones as his face filled out, his jaw widening slightly to accommodate the extra mass.  The layer of scratchy stubble that followed obscured his formerly full-looking lips, stripping away the last of James’s model-caliber features and leaving him a pug-faced brute in the span of only a few blocks.

As he watched his skin begin to weather and callous, a series of bright, crude tattoos blossoming all over his expanded frame, James realized too late what was happening.  The rep from New Faith, Inc. had said they’d take all the things that had gotten him into trouble, and the first three that sprang to mind were his body, beauty and brains.

A lightning bolt of pain lanced through his head almost as soon as he had the thought.  James let out a grunt and reached up to clutch the sides of his head, shivering at the foreign sensation of calloused palms against his smooth scalp.  But no matter how hard he clutched and squeezed, there was nothing he could do to stem the vertigo-inducing sensation of knowledge and memories slipping away like water down a drain.  He tried in vain to remember the bulk of the coursework he’d completed, or some of the old schemes he ran with his dad, or even the bulletproof pickup lines he’d perfected over the years, but it was all gone.

New thoughts and memories began to trickle in to take their place, but it was a life that James didn’t recognize.  He stared at his tattooed hands, suddenly remembering where the grease stains on his shirt and under his nails had come from.  He hefted tires for a living at a bodyshop not far from his current path.  It was heavy labor, but the pay wasn’t terrible and James knew he wasn’t smart enough to handle things like oil changes, let alone any complicated repairs anyway.  And it kept him from dealing with customers for the most part.  He didn’t have the patience or the personality for that kind of work.  He could lift heavy objects, look intimidating, and, when necessary, hit people real hard.  That last skill had gotten him into trouble recently, but luckily Caleb had gotten him out of it.

James gasped, his eyes going wide and his stomach fluttering when the name crossed his mind.  He’d been fighting against the crushing tide of terrifyingly impossible memories, thoughts that he knew were all wrong, but it was the first one that felt right.  An image of a lean, wiry man with a cute, boyish face and a stylish mop of auburn hair flashed in James’s mind, his heavy pace quickening when he suddenly realized where he was headed and who waited for him.  In his addled state it took the inflated hulk a while to recognize why the thinner man seemed so familiar, tempering his eagerness with a stab of guilt when he thought back to their first meeting over a decade ago, when Caleb had come to James and his father to set up a fund for the kid he had on the way.  Obviously they’d absconded with the father-to-be’s money, and James was caught off guard by the intensity of the rage that flared within him at the thought of anyone, even himself, taking advantage of his adorable lover or their son.

That last word nearly brought James to his knees.  He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry when his memories of Caleb were joined by a bright, cheerful youth.  Josh was every bit as scrawny as his dad, but he’d just turned eleven, and James was convinced he’d start to fill out sooner or later.  Though he couldn’t help much with the kid’s homework, lifting heavy things and getting big was the one thing James knew he was good at.  And even if Josh didn’t have the genes for it, or just didn’t want to, the bald bruiser knew it ultimately didn’t matter because he’d always be around and would do anything to make sure his family was taken care of.

The contrast between the dread he felt over what he’d lost and the budding joy creeping in at the thought of what he’d gained left James reeling.  The altered man didn’t even know who “James” was anymore.  Was he a gorgeous con man, or a burly brute?  Was he polished and cunning, or rough and slow?  Did he have a hole where his heart should be, or was it overflowing?  And which did he really want?

That question was answered as soon as he turned down the next street.  His heart leapt at the sight of Caleb standing in front of their condo before going ice-cold when he saw the snotty young man harassing him.  All James heard was a single slur, and the next thing he knew he was standing over the prone punk after having sent him sprawling to the sidewalk.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY,” he roared, stomping a thick boot next to the scrambling man’s arm on the ground.  “SAY IT AGAIN!  FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!  WHAT?  NOTHIN’ TO SAY NOW?  COME ON TOUGH GUY, TALK YOUR SHIT,” James bellowed as the man frantically scooted away.  He tried to climb to his feet a few times but only succeeded in making it partially upright before James sent him back to the concrete again.  It was a surprising display for a man who, even while in prison, had only ever been in a handful of fights, and was even more surprising given how natural it all felt.  James’s broad body bristled with power, a rage that was cut short by a slender hand on his shoulder.

“Baby…babe…it’s okay,” Caleb said, giving the thick cannonball a gentle squeeze.

“Are you okay?  Did he hurt you?  Did he fuckin’ touch you?  I swear to god I’ll fuckin’...” James was cut off when Caleb leaned in for a kiss, his heaving chest gradually slowing.

“I’m fine, hon.  He was just some idiot frat boy running his mouth.  Not worth getting in trouble over…especially not so soon after the last time.”  James let himself be taken by the hand and guided through the impossibly familiar front door.  He kicked his boots off as he looked around and saw belongings that he knew were his, along with pictures of the three of them dotting the walls and end tables.  “You okay?  Even after that run-in you look a little worried.”

James didn’t know what to say.  He nodded and shrugged, his voice a series of deep, rumbling grunts.  “Just a weird day.  My head’s been all over the place.”

The bigger man’s cock throbbed at Caleb’s coy grin.  “Well…Josh isn’t going to be home from soccer practice for at least another hour and a half if…” This time it was James’s turn to cut the thin man off.  He lunged forward and swallowed Caleb in a meaty embrace, resuming their earlier kiss with a deep, rough sequel.  “Hey now…you’re filthy, babe,” the smaller man finally laughed when he came up for air.  He looked down at his immaculate t-shirt and over at James’s stained mess, squirming in the other man’s granite grip.

“Yeah?  And what’re you gonna do about it,” James grunted, raising a thick arm and flexing it behind him.  With his other hand he gently gripped the back of Caleb’s head and guided the other man’s face to his musky armpit, letting out a low sigh when a warm tongue began lapping through the hair.  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck yessssss,” he moaned as a slim hand slipped up beneath his shirt and began tweaking one of his nubby nipples.  He reached down when Caleb switched sides and pulled up the brunette’s thin t-shirt, bunching it at his bony shoulders.

“Please don’t destroy another one of my shirts,” Caleb laughed between mouthfuls of James’s sweaty armpit.  “I like this one.”

“Then take it off,” the big man grunted, lowering his arm.  He kneaded his aching cock through his jeans as he watched his lover strip out of the shirt, the sight of the other man’s deceptively built torso making him quake with desire.  “All of it,” he barked, loving the way Caleb blushed slightly, even after all their time together, as he slowly peeled out of his jeans and let his small, thin cock spring from his little briefs.  “That’s better,” he rumbled, grabbing each of the smaller man’s perky cheeks as he pulled him in for another kiss.  He spread the firm little globes and pressed a pair of stubby fingers against the eager hole, thrilled to once again be feeling the dominance he’d had to suppress for the last decade.  “That pussy’s eager today, isn’t it,” he laughed, pressing harder against the spasming hole.

“You…have that effect on me,” Caleb gasped, pushing back into James’s grip.

“This cock ain’t gonna pull itself out,” the brawny man grinned, reluctantly letting go so he could strip out of his shirt while Caleb desperately tore his pants free and tugged them down.  The sight of his inflated mass in all it’s lumpy, undefined glory was a shocking sight to the remaining scraps of the old James, but the new one was too busy batting his fattened log of a cock against Caleb’s face to pay much attention.  He let the smaller man wrap his soft lips around it for a moment but then pulled it away.  “Uh-uh.  Big guy’s going somewhere else,” he said, reaching down to swallow the entirety of Caleb’s smallish package in a meaty palm and pull him along on the way to the bedroom.  His body was on autopilot, and James never once stopped to think about how he knew where it was or what it would look like when he got there.  After all, he lived there.  He may not know much, but he at least knew that.

There was a flurry of limbs as he literally threw the other man onto the bed and climbed up after him, hefting Caleb’s thighs onto his shoulders and giving him a rough tug onto his waiting cock.  James couldn’t believe how good it felt to have the wailing man writhing against his widened, rolling hips.  He simultaneously felt like it had been forever since he’d been in such a position of power, and also that it happened all the time.  They moved with a familiar, practiced rhythm, and James knew how to be just rough enough to give Caleb what he knew his lover wanted without actually hurting the lean little man.

By the time James came, the knowledge of his previous life was little more than a vague memory.  It was as if his time as a pretty hunk had only been a dream, or, more accurately, a nightmare given how much he loved his current circumstances.  He couldn’t imagine being apart from Caleb and Josh, both because he needed his partner to keep him on track and because the other two completed him in a way he’d never imagined possible.

“You seem much more…relaxed,” Caleb purred, running a hand across James’s firm gut as they lay tangled together in an easy silence.  The bigger man flashed a smug grin and rolled over, pinning the giggling brunette beneath his heavy frame.

“Just catching my breath for round two.  We’ve still got another twenty minutes.”

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