Russian Dolt Multiverse (Patreon)

Russian history in four words: then things got worse.
Russian story in four worlds: 

Universe Один

My first thought was to get a bucket of ice, but I doubt this hotel has an ice machine, and I didn’t really care to put on any clothes just to find out. I walked into the bathroom and let the shower run on the coldest setting. After a minute I had to resign to it not being any cooler, this is the Philippines after all, and begun showering my cock and balls. Who is stupid enough to buy a solid, metal cock ring in the first place? If it wasn’t bad enough cock and ball torture to have a ring on for so many hours, though no idea exactly how many, having it doused in cold water certainly added to the sensory experience. At first nothing happened, but once the ring itself was coming down in temperature I started to see movement, and then it went quickly. The pain when the blood started moving properly was something otherworldly. I’ve had the odd sleeping leg from surfing to much while on the toilet, but this was that times thousand.

I cranked the temperature back up again and just stood there and soaked in the shower, trying to think about as little as possible. When I started to feel like a person again, albeit one who needed a smoke, I realized I should try to freshen up best I could. I’d already ruined some of it by showering hot before using soap, trapping much of the scent of cum and sweat in the pores that had now shut closed by the expanding skin. I still did an attempt using the dinky hotel soap. Shampoo would be pointless, looking like this. When I came to soaping my ass I paused. It didn’t feel right, like my anus was protruding a little. I didn’t hurt though, so I just assumed it was a side effect of the night’s adventure and would sort itself given time.

There wasn’t much to wear, and less I wanted to wear in the room. I found a bottle of body spray and a slightly distressed black T-shirt, that I combined with the jeans and the flip flops from the day before. I didn’t know how long I had the room for, if it was paid in advance, or anything, so I took another look around the room and saw nothing I would miss. The ear studs might be worth something, so I kept them on, and I pocketed the mysterious ring, but everything else I left in the room with the full knowledge it might all have been thrown out by the time I got back.

I really wanted to inhale as deep and as fast as possible, but I forced myself to savor the cigarette I lit as soon as I entered the street. It felt healthier, though it probably was at least as bad. But then the streets in Manila isn’t all that great for lung health either. I had started to walk with no particular goal in mind, but decided to at least have a look at my old hotel. Not because I had any hope of finding anything useful there, but I just didn’t have anything else to do.

With no clear memory of the way, no cellphone to guide and no money to be driven, it took more than an hour to get back. As I’m closing in on the hotel I see someone in my peripheral that looks familiar. Turn and see the hulking body of Boris lumbering towards my destination. He is marginally better dressed than last I saw him, and is carrying a canvas bag. We are quite far apart, and I saw him first, but as soon as he sees me he stops walking. He is just standing there for a good ten seconds, after which he turns and walk the other direction. I want to run up to him and ask him what the fuck they have done with my body, but he is too far away and I’m too damaged after the night’s events. Fuck! Perhaps he was returning to pick something up? I saw no reason to change my plan.

It was fully morning by now, and someone from the bell service at the hotel walked up to me as soon as I entered the lobby, asking if they could help. That was code for “you don’t belong”. I told him I know which room to get to, and thanked my luck this hotel didn’t require any key card for the elevator.

I was somehow hesitant, standing outside my old hotel door. The longer I waited, longer it would take until my fears were confirmed. I made a soft knock on the door.

Nothing happened.

I make a more forceful knock on the door.

As I open my eyes the light hurts. I hear a thud against the door. I look around and see the hotel room I checked in to two days ago. The bed is made, but someone has clearly been lying on it. To my left, on a small table, is a line of small, empty mini bar bottles. I’m just about to scratch my forehead when the faint chime-like rattle of chains made me look at the cuff around my wrist. It takes a moment to click that I am in my body again. My real body.

There is a knock on the door. Unsteadily I walk towards the door and open it. On the other side is Mikhail, rubbing his head. “You could knock first, remove ring not first. Not opposite order.”

The ring! “I removed the ring in your hotel room. Nothing happened.”

“Ah.” Mikhail nodded, and then waved his hand toward the mini bar empties. “Doesn’t work unless both are conscious. I got bored.” He stood still for a bit. “You was not bored. Was good?”

“да“ 

Universe Два

The rattle of key in keyhole snaps me out of my self pity, and in panic I dive into the bed sheets, only to immediately be reminded of why they are damp and sticky. I hope I can scare away room service before she realizes what a mess the room is in. But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal a tiny Asian lady. Instead a huge German wearing a tank top that barely contain his muscles confidently walks into the room. He carries a few different plastic shopping bags in his large hands. As soon as he sees me his serious face gets brighter with a smile.

“So, you are awake, ja. Schlept gut?”
“да, but am sore all over.”
“Entschuldigung, but I wanted to be back before you awake, but I got late. I saw your big friend from the bar.”
“You met Boris?”
“No, I saw him. He was taken by police. Don’t know why. Do you?”

Was this in any way related to me, or why I wasn’t swapping back to my body? Perhaps by just talking to the police this would all be sorted. Or perhaps they are really after Mikhail, and for all practical purposes I am him now. I could be shot before the end of the day.

“No. No idea.”
“Gut”

He was smiling again, as he placed the bags on the small table and pulled the sheet that covered me.

“Oh, mein Gott. Your dick color. Hurts, ja?”
“Yes. Hurts.”

He dove into one of the bags and pulled out some sort of medicinal cream tube, and a condom pack. He ripped open the condom pack, and used the condom as a glove, squeezed a large dollop of the gel from the tube onto my dick, and started to carefully cover it all with the condomed hand. Working quickly he then moved down and did the same to my balls. “Move less” he said, as if I didn’t understand my squirming made things difficult for him. The pain was however disappearing quickly. “It’s Anästhetikum. Makes it hurt less.”

He then tossed the condom in the trash bucket, grabbed another bag and picked out a few cans of beers and two cups from the top, and placed them on the night stand. Next he picked up a bag of ice, wet with condensation from the humidity. He tore it open, grabbed a fistful of ice, and cupped my dick and balls with it. Amazingly I didn’t feel a thing, except the cold water against my thighs. Only a minute or so later he dunked the remains of the ice in the plastic cups, and I could feel him slipping my dick, and then my nut sack, out of the ring. He put the ring down on the nightstand as well.

“So. You should feel again in one or two hour. Now bier.”

He opened one of the cans and poured into the cups with ice. Dark and foamy. “Bayerisches Bier” he proclaimed proudly, handing me a cup. He emptied his without waiting and promptly refilled it. “Wait for ice to it cool, ja.”

I carefully tasted my beer. It was strong in flavor, high in proof, and cold enough with so much ice in such a small cup. I realized that his eyes were glued on me. Suddenly he lept forward and kissed my mouth forcefully, making me spill half my cup of beer. I managed to put the cup back on the nightstand and wrapped my arms around my German. He kissed me close to asphyxiation before he pulled away. “I want you to move in, ja. Stay in my place.” That came completely unexpected, but I knew I wanted nothing more, just as he said it. What good was a nice apartment if you never saw it? I had enjoyed living as a lone, travelling salesman, but this right here was passion. In a way the choice had already been made for me. With this new body I couldn’t go back to the life I knew.

“I am happy to.” I answered. He noticed that my dick had perked up again, despite what it had been through. He carefully touched it, and I winced. It was bruised and raw, but I still hadn’t cum all night. He stroke my body, and my chin and then got up from the bed. Slowly he stepped out of his camo cargo shorts and his jockstrap, revealing his large, erect cock. He grabbed both my legs and carefully, almost tenderly, moved me towards him and inserted his dick into my abused ass.

Lying on my back our eyes were locked, as he slowly begun to gyrate his hips, moving his dick head back and forth over my prostate. I wanted to resist, but he had obviously set a goal to have me cum as soon as possible. To have my decision sealed not in blood, but in cum. I had been teased all night and it didn’t take much to splatter my body up to my neck in my own cum.

Universe три

I didn’t know what else to expect from the day, so I savored the coffee. Coffee and cigarette is such a cliche, but I’ve never been a smoker before. When I tried smoking in school once I hadn’t yet tasted coffee. But now everything made so much sense. One might argue I shouldn’t spend my last cash on a coffee, but I would argue there is no point saving such small amounts.

With the cup completely dry, it was time to figure out what to do next. The hotel wasn’t far off. I’d seen it while looking for a place to affordably drink a coffee. The hotel wasn’t one such place though, so I found this little cafe to have a calm moment before facing reality. The hot and humid air hit me as soon as I exit the cool cafe and walk the block down to the hotel.

As I enter the hotel lobby there is a weird vibe. A few guests are scattered around, and mostly ignores me, but the staff is pretending to not stare. I guess I am out of place, looking the way I do.

I take the elevator to my floor. As I exit I immediately see one of the cleaning carts from the room service standing by my door. Shit. I should have tried to come earlier, before they erased all clues. As I get closer I see the door opposite my room is opened, and my door handle still has a “Do not disturb” sign on it. I sigh a slight relief and knock on the door.

It takes just a second and the door swung in, and before I had a chance to see who was opening it something hit me in the back, pushing me tumbling forward. Someone grabbed my shoulders slowed my fall from totally crashing into the floor. There was something pushing hard on my back, just below the neck. I could feel my arms pulled together, and then cuffed. People were talking Filipino, a radio squeaked, someone was pressing something against my fingers, and I could only see boots and tactical trousers.

Just as I started to comprehend that the police had me arrested, I was lifted to my feet and pushed out of the room. Two police men were marching me towards the elevator, down through the lobby and out into a waiting police car. I asked “What is happening?”, “Where are you taking me?” and similar questions with obvious and useless answers, until one of them told me to shut up.

We sat in silence in the car for what felt like 20 minutes, when finally a plain clothes officer approached the car. The driver lowered the window, and I assume for my benefit, the plain cloths officer spoke in English.

“It’s him. His fingerprints are all over the cuffs.”

Universe четыре

I was utterly confused when I woke up in a hotel bed, but then memories started trickle in. The body swap. I clearly was still in Mikhail’s body, I knew, because I could feel it. I felt sore. Wait, why was I still in Mikhail’s body? Looking around I could see I was in the bed in his shitty hotel room, no German to be found. I got up while the whole body was screaming in agony. The bed sheets were pretty much ruined with semen and other fluids. What a mess. My head throbbed with a hangover worse than I have ever experienced before. I stumbled over to the mirror.

Young, muscled, and well-hung were the bright side of what I saw. Everything else I saw in the mirror disgusted me, even more now than when I swapped into it yesterday. I was naked except for the thumb ring and a cock ring. The dick and balls looked bruised, a dangerously purple color. I tentatively touched the dick and pleasure tinged pain shot through my body. It was swollen and had a dull ache, but a small part of me even wanted to play with this dick some more, as I was still horny as fuck. I didn’t remember cumming. I didn’t even dare to think about the agony it would be to remove that cock ring. My thoughts went to the other ring. I've had enough of this. It was time to end this experience, exciting as it might have been.

I removed the ring.

Immediately I looked down at my face. It had the wrong color. The mouth was open, the eyes bloodshot and the chain from the handcuff was wrapped around the throat. In horror I let go of the chain and stepped away from the body. It looked dead. The neck looked weird, as if the chain had broken something inside of it.

I stumbled, hit a desk and almost cried out. The body was unfamiliar and bulky. I looked into the mirror on the wall above the desk. Staring back at me was the Russian brick shithouse made of meat, Boris.

The sensation was completely different from Mikhail, and not just in the obvious way of being taller and beefier, or the lack of bruising from a night of rough sex. There were no cravings to smoke or drink. This guy must have treated himself well, but then you don’t get a body like this if your don’t.

The irony of that thought made me chuckle out loud. I hadn’t done anything to get his body. Why was I in it? I removed the leather glove and looked at my hand. One of those rings were on the thumb. I look at my dead body’s hand. No ring. Whatever he had been up to, he had managed to swap me into his body and probably him into Mikhail’s body.

I started to feel dread. Whatever reason he had for doing this was not going to be good for me, I felt. I needed to leave the hotel right away. I resisted the urge to take any of my belongings with me. Clothes were worthless, phone and computer could probably be tracked. I didn’t really have any money in the wallet, just cards, and any use of them could also be tracked.

There was a canvas bag on the floor I didn’t recognize. I picked it up and exited the room. There were no cameras in the corridor that I could see. I took the stairs on floor down, put the gloves in the bag. Then I took the elevator down to the lobby and tried my best to look as calm as possible while walking out. In my mind I was screaming “I didn’t murder myself, it was this body.” 

Not far from the hotel I saw a cafe, and apparently I had plenty of cash in my wallet, so I decided for a coffee. Only a few sips in I could tell this body wasn’t used to that, and I was in for a massive shit within the hour. Let’s add that to the list of problems. If it isn’t the police that will get me, it is whatever Boris was running from.