He Really Pushes My Buttons (vignette) (Patreon)

Anthony slipped the thin black band over his ring finger, one half of his soft, full lips curling into a grin.  He then held up the large hand and flipped it over a few times, his view switching between the sparsely haired back and the gym-calloused palm.  Bright blue eyes sparkled triumphantly as he rubbed his wide jaw with his free hand, the fingers grating across the expertly maintained stubble coating his statuesque cheekbones, before he folded his arms and nodded.  It was one of his preferred poses as the position of his arms accentuated the plump, prominent pecs straining against his deceptively plain t-shirt, while also drawing attention to the tightness of his waist.  Anthony always made sure to flex his arms and press against his biceps with the hand they rested on to make their impressive size look even bigger, but the pretty-boy brunette hoped people wouldn’t notice that part.  “Nice and simple, just like you promised,” he said, nodding towards my wrist.  “Is that the control panel?”

I held up my arm to give him a better view of the small dial.  Though it looked like a watch, the copper disk wasn’t equipped with hash marks and dials, but five tiny buttons arranged in a pentagram formation.  The star shape wasn’t necessary.  I could have put them in any pattern, or in a simple row, but considering what Anthony had asked of me I liked the drama.  “Easy as pushing a button,” I said, flashing a wry grin of my own.  It was nowhere near as impressive beaming off a remarkably average face attached to a remarkably average body, but the brunette hadn’t hired me for my looks.  “Are you ready for your demonstration so I can finally get paid?”

Anthony gave a short laugh and unfolded his arms as he looked around the bustling bar.  “And do you have any idea how we’re going to get it…on…hey…” he stammered, his smile fading and his arm flexing mightily as he tugged on the immovable ring.  “Why won’t this thing come off?!”

I shrugged.  “Because I haven’t unlocked it.  You wanted a demonstration, and what better way than to give you a firsthand glimpse of what you’re asking for?”

My smile grew as he vigorously shook his head.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Hold on a second.  I never agreed to be a fucking guinea pig!  If you want your money you’ll unlock this thing right the fuck now and let…me…” Anthony’s tirade broke off in a sharp gasp when it finally occurred to him that his hundred dollar t-shirt had vanished.  It happened so fast he didn’t have time to process its removal, like the brain’s inability to recognize a movie as a series of individual stills.  “What…what just happened…”he sputtered, hopping to his feet.

I waited to answer, opting instead to enjoy the view.  As much as I hated to admit it, Anthony was every bit as stunning as he knew himself to be - broad shoulders, perfect pecs, powerful arms, and a ripped, tapering washboard, all lightly dusted by just enough wiry, auburn hair to give him a further air of exaggerated masculinity.  I let my eyes travel slowly down his athletic frame, lingering at the way his pants, while hugging tight to his upper legs and firm bubble, hung just slightly away from his ripped obliques.  He’d been gorgeous since we’d met in college several years prior, and time was only honing his appearance.  As he fucked his way into the back half of his twenties what little remained of his youthful softness had melted away, leaving a handsome hunk who radiated smug superiority.  Or at least he normally did, though his current gawking, wide-eyed expression was still adorable.  “Number one,” I said, tilting the face of the dial in his direction and pointing at the top button.  “No more shirts.  Number two…”

“Fuck!”  Anthony hissed and jerked on the stool when his custom-tailored chinos vanished, leaving his powerful legs on display.  He still had on his white leather sneakers, but all that remained of his previous outfit were the small, heather gray trunks filled to capacity by his meaty thighs, infuriatingly stuffed bulge, and perky rear.

I cocked my head to the side and looked him up and down again, realizing that it was the first time in our eight years of friendship that I’d ever seen him appear nervous.  I knew it had more to do with his sudden lack of agency than any modesty or inhibitions on his part, as I’d already had plenty of opportunities to see his naked beauty over the years.  Anthony was the kind of guy who would take a single sip of alcohol and use it as an excuse to begin disrobing in order to show off his superior physique and endowment, so I was actually doing him more of a favor than anything.  “Pretty clear what number two does.  And number three…”

“WAIT!  Just…just wait a fucking second,” he barked, a slight crimson sheen beginning to show beneath his tanned bronze skin.  He squirmed on the stool and looked around at the rest of the crowd, only now beginning to notice that no one was paying him, or his lack of clothing, any more attention than they normally would have.  “Hooooooly shit,” he finally chuckled after a few tense moments, still looking bashful but no longer like he was about to bolt.  “You really did it.”

“Did you ever doubt,” I purred, taking my turn at arrogance while my eyes lingered on the obvious outline of his long, thick cock.  “Magic is just math when you boil it down, and we both know that’s my specialty.”

“Never been happier that you’re such a nerd, bro.  Can’t wait to use this thing with MY specialty,” he sneered, giving his heaping bulge a squeeze.

“Speaking of…” I pressed the third button and watched Anthony go a cute shade of full-body pink when the underwear vanished and his kneading palm made direct contact with the girthy package it housed.

“BRO!  WHAT THE FUCK,” he roared, instantly regretting the elevated volume when everyone turned and looked in his direction.  Anthony froze instinctively, waiting to be thrown out or at least mocked for his nudity, but it was obvious that people were far more interested in whether a fight was about to break out than the Adonis suddenly wearing nothing but white sneakers in their midst.  “Okay!  Okay,” he relented, lowering his voice.  “You made your point.  It works.  Now give me my shit back.”

“Why?  What shit are you talking about,” I asked, mirroring his folded-arm pose from earlier.

“What?!  What do you mean ‘what shit’?  I’m talking about my…” his mouth kept moving but the words dried up in his throat.  His eyes narrowed and he swallowed hard, shaking his head.  “My…my…you know…the stuff you have on.”

I couldn’t hide my grin.  “Are you trying to say clothes?”

“Yes!  That!  That’s the word,” he said, a look of desperate relief washing over him.  “Fuck…but why can’t I…?  When I try to say it I can’t…”

“This is what you wanted me to build,” I interrupted, waving the dial in front of him.  “As of right now, you exist in the world as someone who doesn’t wear clothes.  You never have, and you never will.  As far as reality is concerned, THIS is exactly how you should be.  A part of you still remembers otherwise, but that doesn’t change the here-and-now.  So I say enjoy it.”  I stopped and let that sink in, loving the unobstructed view of his broad back and muscled melons when he turned in a slow circle to look around the room again, as if everyone’s opinions would have changed.  But despite the swaying banana and pendulous balls that shook and wagged with the movement, all Anthony received was the usual amount of lustful stares.  I wondered what that must feel like, to have the sought-after mystique of one’s concealed perfection suddenly stripped away like his clothing, his bare flesh now as commonplace as the t-shirt and chinos he previously wore.  He was still an arousing figure, but the goal of getting the brown-haired hunk naked had been achieved before anyone even had to try.  I would’ve asked him the question if I thought he could still grasp enough of the concepts to answer, though he had other concerns.  “I mean, this is what you’re really after, right?”

He lowered his voice again and leaned in close.  “Not for me!  You were supposed to make this FOR me, so I could use it on the ladies.  I’m not supposed to be the naked one!”

“Yeah, about that,” I said, making a slight tut-tut sound.  “That’s fucked, man.  Why do you even need it?  I’ve seen you in action…you can get girls naked without much effort as it is.  This seems like a much better use.”

“THE HELL IT…” he bit down on his furious objection when heads started to turn again.  “The hell it is,” he continued, quietly.  “And what the fuck, dude?!  You’re going to give me shit for it and then turn around and use it yourself?”

I shrugged.  “I said it was fucked.  I didn’t say it was a bad idea.”

“Alright, enough’s enough,” Anthony said, his tone stern as he grabbed the base of my wrist and went to remove the dial.

“I wouldn’t,” I said as his fingers made contact with the clasp.  “If you pull it off now you’ll be stuck like this.”  I left my hand swallowed in his as he began hitting the buttons to no effect, letting him poke for several moments before explaining.  “Buttons only work for the person wearing them, just like the changes can only happen to the person wearing the ring.  But if you want to hold my hand you don’t need an excuse,” I purred, adjusting my grip so that our fingers were interlaced.  I watched his eyes go wide again and reached out with my free hand to run it up his firm stomach, feeling him tremble slightly as his cock already began twitching.

He swallowed again and licked his lips before giving a meager protest.  “Whoa now…come on, dude.  I’m not…I don’t care that you’re gay, but we’ve been over this.  It’s…it’s not my thing.”

“You sure about that,” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I looked down at his semi-hard log.  “Seems like it might be relevant to your interests after all,” I winked.

“That’s just because of the…the…”

“The way I turn you on?”  I stepped in close and gave one of his pillowy pecs a squeeze, running my thumb along the firm little nipple.  He actually whimpered and looked flustered for the first time in all the years I’d known him as what had to have been a confusing surge of lust ripped through him.  It was something else he’d wanted, for the wearer of the ring to find the holder of the dial irresistible, but like his absent clothing he couldn’t fully conceptualize that anymore.  Now, he simply existed as someone who was infatuated with me.  He didn’t need a reason.

His heart hammered against my palm even as he squeezed my other hand, not wanting to let go.  “Dude…come…come on…”

“That reminds me,” I said, extricating my hands.  “We still have two more buttons to go over.  We’ll do number four last, but number five…”

“HHnnnNNHH…!”  Anthony grunted, going tense.  His fat, untouched cock rocketed to its full nine inches, becoming achingly, throbbingly rigid as it started oozing a clear stream.  “Oh…oh fuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.  “What did you just…that feels incre…incredible.  Oh god…oh shit…oooOOOOHHHHH!”  The crystal oozing turned into a series of violent, milky eruptions as Anthony arched his back and howled.  His statuesque face turned into a slack-jawed mask of ecstasy, and I quickly positioned my hand in front of the spurting monster to keep nearby patrons out of the splash zone as the handsome brunette bucked and spasmed.  I smiled politely when people turned and stared again, but while their expressions weren’t entirely neutral, most of them looked over with the same instinctive impulse as they would have had Anthony merely dropped a glass that shattered on the ground.  The rest were clearly interested in the ripped, naked jock helplessly cumming all over the place, yet no one reacted like anything inappropriate was happening.  Anthony’s face was crimson with embarrassment when he’d finally stopped spraying, his chiseled chest heaving while he caught his breath.  “Holy…holy fuck…” he panted.

I reached out and laced my fingers through the back of his wavy, chocolate mop, pulling his head in so our foreheads touched.  “Everything you hoped it’d be,” I asked, our lips nearly brushing.  I got the response I’d hoped for a moment later when his lips pressed against mine, his tongue slowly probing the inside of my mouth.  His big hands latched onto my mediocre bubble and I found myself swallowed in his sturdy arms for a prolonged kiss.

“Sorry,” he said, a dazed look on his face when we broke it off a few minutes later.  “I don’t know what…I just couldn’t help myself.”

I grinned and gave him a quick peck on the nose.  “How long have we known each other?  I know how you operate.”  I was relieved to find everyone equally nonplussed by our public display of affection.  I’d hoped that the normalizing of the orgasms would carry over to other sexual activities, and the way that no one batted an eye at two guys going at each other in a primarily straight bar provided evidence of my success.  “But here’s where the fun comes in.  If I press the buttons again, the removed items come back.  Maybe not the exact same ones, but the same ‘concept’ of them.  So you might get briefs instead of boxers, a button-down instead of a t-shirt, or jeans instead of khakis.  Like this.”  I pressed number one and number three again, impressing even myself when a straining, salmon polo appeared around Anthony’s sculpted torso and a pair of pale blue briefs were filled to capacity at his tight waist.

“This is wild,” he said with a short laugh.  He blinked and rubbed his face, his brain now racing to adapt to a world where he wore shirts and underwear, but no pants.

“Fun button still works too,”I winked, hitting number five again.  His cock shot to attention in the tiny briefs, tenting the straining fabric near to bursting before the forceful eruptions spurted through the thin material.  Anthony looked absolutely mortified as he soaked the recently acquired underwear, but I was just relieved that the clothing didn’t cancel out the effect of number five.  I didn’t think it would, but there was only been one way to find out.  “Don’t worry, we can clean that up.”

“Shit’s making me dizzy,” Anthony gasped as his sopping underwear disappeared, leaving him as someone who wore shirts but nothing other than shoes from the waist down.

I took a step back and nodded.  “I think this look is my favorite.  All you need is a backwards baseball cap.  You’ve got the whole Frat Boy Polo thing showing off your tits, and your dick is just out there, which suits you.”

“It does?”  He blinked down at the exposed organ softening between his hairy thighs before absently reaching up to pop the last button on his polo, fully exposing his deep pec cleavage.  “If you say so.”

“Before we get too comfortable, we still have number four.  The ‘sexy’ button.  This is the one you wanted for lingerie and whatnot…don’t really know what we’ll get for you.”  I pressed the button as he opened his mouth to protest, unable to hold back a sharp laugh at what followed.  The polo vanished instantly, replaced by a series of crisscrossing leather straps that connected to a matching jockstrap, both items obscenely enhancing his pecs and ass, respectively.  “Oh.  Wow.  That’s a look.”

Anthony’s face went a fresh shade of red when he reached up to feel the dog collar wrapped around his wide neck, the loud jingling of the metal-ringed wrist cuffs clattering above the noise of the bar.  “Uh…I think I’m good with the polo…” he muttered, giving another gasp when I pressed the button again.  This time the leather harnesses were replaced by something more in line with what he’d originally envisioned as a pair of pink lace panties and matching teddy apparated around his sculpted frame.  Though feminine in appearance, the sheer bottoms were cut for a man as they, barely, contained his hefty package, though the skimpy top showed off his muscle tits and tapering waist in equal measure.

“Oh, yes please,” I clapped, feeling like someone had hit my own fifth button at the sight.  Looking at Anthony’s pretty-boy bulk spilling out of the frilly lingerie in the middle of the bar was better than anything I ever could have imagined.

“Maaaan…not…not like this,” Anthony whimpered, giving me a pleading, puppy-dog look.  I could already see the changes settling in his brain and knew it no longer registered as odd even as he finished speaking, but there was still a hint of embarrassment beneath the surface.

“Fine.  For now.  I wanted to show you what happens when you press number four with the others anyway,” I sighed, pressing the first and fourth buttons simultaneously.  The pink lingerie vanished as quickly as everything else, leaving a cropped tank-top of turquoise mesh in its place.  I followed this up with number four and number three, my stomach fluttering when a magenta thong appeared in place of the panties.  “Okay, I was wrong earlier.  THIS go-go boy vibe is my favorite look for you.”

The color of Anthony’s face briefly matched the thong, but it didn’t take long before I caught him admiring the way the revealing outfit made him look.  There was a prolonged silence as he shifted his weight and squirmed in place, adjusting to the string between his dimpled globes and the way the humid, beer-scented air wafted across nearly all of him.  “So….how long until you let me take this ring off,” he finally asked.

“Do you really want to?”  My hands drifted along the low riding waist of the thong as I spoke, knowing full well what the answer would be.  He opened and closed his mouth in silence several times before finally shaking his head with a bashful grin.  “Good,” I said, giving him another quick kiss.  “Why don’t we get out of here and go back to your place?  I want to see what happens when we press number four and five at the same time.”