Festival Fiasco

Festival Fiasco

Part 5

Ever since his birth, the fateful worm had known nothing but darkness. Most of his days were spent in shrew-like bodies and digging tunnels for the foundation of their society. His job, like many others before him, was to search for precious metals in abused and dangerous mines. Several of his fellow worms passed away due to collapsing tunnels or pockets of earth full of poisonous air.

“We are many,” a worm twice his age told to him, “and we are weak. Disposable. Worms in the dirt that the Elite walk on. We matter as much as the rock we mine, and so we are in these caverns.” Not too long after passing on that wisdom, the older worm perished in a cave-in. The fateful worm was no surprised, as so many of their kind died everyday that learning names was far too tiring. It was better to have nothing than to constantly lose someone every day.

Then, on a fateful day, the worm overheard two passing Elites. “Centaurus,” one of them said, chuckling as he uttered that name, “is what those humans call one of our suns. Our sacred stars that lie above even Elites! Can you believe they have the audacity to even try to christen it with a name? Absurd.” The two walked away, laughing at the new species.

From then on, a small fire burned in that fateful worm’s heart. It was a completely foreign feeling, but he loved it. “Centaurus,” he said to himself as best he could, each syllable eliciting joy in his heart. “Centaurus, Centaurus. Cen-tau-rus…!” As he repeated that word to himself in the coming days, his gaze turned upwards, focusing above the dark rock ceiling he had always known. The next few months were spent digging his own personal tunnel, barely managing to hide his progress from the managers who watched his progress. It was difficult to dig through the dirt and stone upwards, but the name gave him hope and strength that he had never known before.

Finally, Centaurus emerged from the earth. He pushed through the final layer of dirt and emerged onto the surface. The air tasted fresh and untouched by dust. His panted heavily, enjoying each new sensation as he trekked through the alien world—his own home. The sky was grey and a light breeze coursed through barren field he wandered. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he saw the first few rays. In the horizon, the sun began to rise.

“Heyyyyy~! Ya gonna wake up or am I gonna have to throttle ya, Centy?” Centaurus’ slowly opened his eyes, hands curled up in irritation as the annoying voice bounced off the walls. “There you are! About time. You sure like to keep everyone waiting, huh?”

“…Phecda.” Centaurus blinked to refocus his vision. Before him was an older man wearing a doctor’s coat, a stethoscope, and nothing else. He strutted over, balancing shifting from the balls of each foot.

“You never talk to any of us,” he began, pacing along the walls of the room, gaze wandering all over the white walls. “Yet, you remember each of our names so well! Your behavior is always so interesting, Centy~! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

With a grunt of effort, Centaurus swung his legs over and tried to leap at Phecda. However, the moment he launched himself off the bed and his feet touched the ground, he stumbled and fell to the floor. “The hell…?!”

“You. Are. Exhausted,” said Phecda, leaning over Centaurus, their faces just a few inches away from each other. “Absolutely washed up. It’s a miracle you’re even alive.” Phecda hopped back as Centaurus swung a slow and sluggish fist at him. “You can barely even fight. It’s honestly a shame to see you like this.” For a moment, Phecda’s fac fell before his expression lit up with his usual disgusting cheer. “I wonder what Zathina would say if she saw you. Or dear ol’ Arti. He’d get a real chuckle out of this,” he said, giggling as Centaurus leaned against the bed like an old man who couldn’t get up on his own.

“If you’re gonna kill me,” he said in-between pants, “just go ahead and do it. Anything’s better than listening to you yap and yap.”

“Ohhh, booo~!” said Phecda. “That’s such a boring thing to do, Centaurus. Why would I kill my most interesting research subject.” Once again approaching, Phecda leaned in and grabbed Centaurus’ face in a sharp vice-grip. A glint that never failed to send shivers down Centaurus’ spine appeared in Phecda’s eyes. The grin was gone, replaced by a twisted and frustrated grimace. “I would love to take you apart to finally learn how and why you tick, but that would ruin everything. No, I must observe you without interfering. Without letting those ridiculous fools getting in your way so you can flourish. Those Elites are so concentrated in status and let promising subjects just die in those worthless mines of them. God, I wish I could take them apart too so I could show our worthless world what trash truly looks like.”

Centaurus tried to scream or shout, but he couldn’t stop trembling. His muscles wouldn’t move or respond. If Phecda truly wished, Centaurus would end up as the subject of vivisection. However, no such carnage occurred. Centaurus still breathed.

The two stared at each other for a while before Phecda’s face broke into another gleeful grin. “You flinched~! You’re so cute when you’re scared, but not as cute as Arcturus when everything’s falling apart around him. Phecda let go of Centaurus and stepped back, pacing the room with that ridiculous gait again. “Don’t worry, Centy. I just took you to my host’s apartment so you could get some rest. If either Zathina or Arcturus found ya with no energy, who knows what they would’ve done!” He shook his head in disapproval. “No, I learned so much from you, and yet there’s still more I want to discover.”

“What are you—”

“Please, indulge me, Centaurus,” said Phecda, turning to face Centaurus again, who flinched. “There’s a discovery I believe I have stumbled onto, and I was hoping to use you as a sort of ‘wall’ to bounce ideas off of. Maybe we could even collaborate,” he said, emphasizing the last word.

Moving his hand over his hairy and borrowed legs, Centaurus could feel just a bit of sensation return. If he could just stall this conversation out, he could make a break for it. “Fine,” he said, scoffing and turning his face away. “Start rambling, ya freak. If you get close to the mark, I’ll tell ya. In exchange, just lemme go, all right?”

Phecda cocked his brow, head tilting in confusion. “Oh, that sort of cooperation is unexpected. Wonder if you’ve found some sort of escape route you want to distract me from?”

Centaurus kept his face neutral as Phecda wandered the room, running his hands over the walls. As expected, Phecda knew very little about his own host’s home. “Either way, I guess I don’t really care. All I wanted was a chat. Whatever you do afterwards isn’t very important. Although…” Phecda shook his head. “Doesn’t matter! Let’s great started.”

“Shoot.”

“How did a being like you,” began Phecda, “with very little chance of mastering his craft might I add, ever become masterful enough at possession to rival of Elites like Arcturus or Zathina? Isn’t it curious? I often pondered that between classes and experiments. How was that possible? It’s like a homeless man having more skill than a dedicated kung-fu master.” As if to emphasize his point, Phecda performed a crane stance, the flaccid dick flopping as he lifted up his leg.

“You watching earth TV?”

“It’s nice to have in the background as I work,” said Phecda as rubbed the back of his neck. “But the point is, things weren’t adding up. I threw a few theories around. Time travel, secret training from special ops, all sorts of nonsense. It was more like a little pet project than anything else. Try not to feel so special, Centaurus.”

Rolling his eyes, Centaurus said, “Nice to know I’m such high priority for ya.”

“Well, at first it was.” The dangerous glint in Phecda’s eyes returned. The atmosphere grew heavy as his footfalls grew harder and more intense. “Then I saw the effect you had on Arcturus. That’s when it really got interesting.” Phecda continued to pace around the room. The amusement and nonchalantness of his expression faded. “I grew up together with him. I’ve observed him. He was always so dull. So boring. Just another by-product of our society. Nothing more. But then…! Oh, you made his interesting, Centaurus.” Without warning, he sprinted over to Centaurus and grabbed him by the shoulders. Centaurus could feel Phecda’s warm breath on his face. “Just by existing, just by being skilled, you began to break the little peanut-brain that that fool had. Just by being, you made him fascinating,” he said, eyes shining with wicked intent.

“Wh-What the hell do you want…?” said Centaurus, his heart racing. Goosebumps spread throughout his body. He had seen such an awful personality from Phecda before, but this was simply on a level he could have never seen coming. “What do you want from me, Phecda?!”

“I… just want you to go about the same as you always do!” said Phecda, releasing Centaurus. “I want to witness your potential, that’s all.” He merely shrugged, expression perfectly nonchalant. The sudden changes in mood only served to give Centaurus more anxiety. When would Phecda go in a rage? It was effective torture strategy, but Centaurus was wondering if that was even the goal.

In that brief period, Centaurus realized that Phecda was silent and just staring at him. Suddenly, embarrassed, Centaurus said, “You’re… seriously freaking me out. But, you’re fine with me winning this whole thing? Letting me get the chance to become a Dreadfighter and serve the Emperor directly? That’s fine with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” said Phecda. “You don’t have the skills of Zathina or even Arcturus, but you have good skills. And your head’s not up in the clouds like those two.” He threw his hands up into the air, eyes rolling as he spoke. “Always about honor and status with those two. They’re like broken records. Really, at least having someone like you around will keep things interesting. Besides…” Narrowing his eyes, Phecda said, “Someone who is willing to throw away everything for success is perfect for Dreadfighters, isn’t it?”

Flinching once more, Centaurus tried to back away further onto the bed. “So you figured it out.” Hiding anything from this madman would just agitate Phecda and make the situation worse. “Yeah, I throw just about everything at it when I possess a host.”

“Elites like us are specifically taught not to do that,” said Phecda. “If you try and force a connection with a host, you risk losing yourself. It’s like mixing two paints and hoping that the colors will remain pure. And yet… you still continue to do that. Every time, you allow your consciousness to meld with your host’s just for a tiny advantage. Why is that?”

Not wanting to face Phecda, Centaurus pointedly turned his head and stared out the window. The sun was beginning to set. Just a few hours longer and the festival would be over. His host still wasn’t fully recovered, but that was no longer his main concern. Thoughts and fears he had been burying deep inside of him finally emerged with little resistance. “Ya said it yourself. To risk everything for just that chance for success. That’s all it is. As simple as that.”

Pouting, Phecda said, “It’s so boring when you try to say it like that. At least do it like those detective shows where they have the lead talk about it in great and exciting detail!”

“My life isn’t a show, freak,” said Centaurus. “Just… I don’t have anything else, Phecda. If I don’t become a soldier, if I don’t prove my worth, then…” he paused, unable to say it. I’ll be just a worm. He shut his mouth and refused to let the words continue.

“I see. You’re a product of our society as well.” Phecda nodded, as if the world suddenly made complete sense to him. He spun on his heel and faced the wall, expression hidden. “Don’t kill Arcturus, Centy. He’s boring sometimes and crazy at others, but I still like him. You make him fascinating, but if you make him dead I’ll tear you apart and eat you, okay?”

The usual mania in his voice was gone. For the first time since they had met, Phecda spoke in a serious tone. “Yeah, sure. Wasn’t planning on killing the guy, anyway. He’s a piece of shit but like… no one that needs to be killed.”

“What’re you going to do when it’s just you and Zathina left?” asked Phecda, still hiding his face. “Do you think you can beat her?”

Centaurus ran a hand down his borrowed hair, a habit of his host. “I don’t know. But, I’ll give it a try, even if it kills me.”

“You’re desperate.”

“When you’ve got nothing else to live for and everything on the line,” said Centaurus, “wouldn’t anyone?”

“…Well, to see that realize…” Phecda turned around once more, smirking as he approached Centaurus. “You need your energy. I just happen to know a neat way for humans to generate the chemicals we feed on.” The doctor’s coat billowing as he strutted over, Phecda kneeled in front of Centaurus and began to lower his pants. “Just lean back, stare up at the ceiling, and relax. I’ll take it from here.”

“…You’re a real weirdo, y’know that?”

“Why thank you. You’re a real weirdo as well, Centy.” Phecda leaned in and kiss Centaurus’ lips, to the latter’s shock. “Keep being interesting. Worms don’t make for such fine test subjects, I promise you that much.”

Kindness came from such interesting places, Centaurus mused.

Eight Guests a Party

Alan’s invader awoke late in the morning, just before noon. All the breeding and planning from last night, as well as converting Alan’s friend—whatever his name was—had all but exhausted him. Even so, as he awoke, he felt refreshed and re-energized. Everything had gone according to plan, even with the setback he had encountered one of Alan’s old friends. Soon, Forde’s friends would arrive and enjoy a night at the pool, where Alan’s invader left his awaiting spawn.

Although a small force, the fact that they would convert eight whole bodies in the span of just two days was a major boon for the invasion. While the four invaders gathered together to feed their hosts, Alan explained it to them all.

“Understood!” said Nolan, nodding. Ever obedient.

“Right,” said Alan’s friend. None of them quite knew what his name was exactly, and neither did Alan’s offspring.

Forde nodded, looking… sullen? That seemed to be the appropriate name for the emotion. “I understand, brother,” he said to Alan. Regardless of the emotion, he appeared to be obedient. “So your friend and you will hide upstairs while Nolan and I make sure that our friends swim in the pool?”

Nodding, Alan said, “It is absolutely vital that none of these prominent and virile hosts do not suspect anything until they are all infected. The moment one of them gets away as if able to warn the authorities, our invasion is finished.”

“Don’t worry,” said Nolan, “We don’t intent to let anything get in the way.”

Forde nodded, grimacing. “I’ll do my best, brother. I swear it.”

“Is that so? You should know nothing like that means anything to me, brother.”

Alan’s invader wasn’t sure why, but he could almost see the malice flash across Forde’s face.

Night arrived and the sounds of men filled the air. To keep themselves hidden, Alan’s invader and the invader who took over the other one hid in the room of Forde’s parents. They sat in the dark, the only light streaming was that of the moon and the lights from the pool below. Before the hour was up, they would no longer have to hide.

Alan’s invader looked through the window the various hosts talking, dancing, and merrily drinking as they unknowingly enjoyed their last night in this world. In a way, the sight was pitiful. Promising young men who have done nothing wrong will soon just become husks and the key to their species’ extinction.

“Something wrong, father?” Alan’s friend asked with a slight tilt of his head. “You seem concerned. I haven’t seen that from you.”

“Perhaps my host has affected me more than I initially believed,” said Alan’s invader. He took a seat on the king-sized bed and stared down at his hands. He thought about his fingers moving, and they did. It was a natural, instinctive movement, yet there was something truly miraculous about it. Yet, something about that bothered him. “When did I start believing these were mine?” he mused, eyes narrowing. “I think, therefore I am,” Alan’s invader muttered. He had no idea who said it, but his host considered it so important. “I am alive.”

“Of course you are,” his friend—no, his host’s friend—said with that same naivety his spawn often did. “You command us. You breathe. Of course you’re alive.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Alan’s invader said. When he looked down at that pool, there was a stirring emotion inside of his chest. Joy? No. Ecstasy? No, not that either. He thought about it for about 40 minutes until he spotted Forde’s friends jumping into the pool. “Ah, I think I understand.” The emotion he was feeling was ‘pride,’ for his offspring. The plan had worked as expected. Everything was going perfectly.

However, he couldn’t shake off a feeling of dread. Was it his host’s fear? Was it that the dawn of humanity’s destruction was upon them? Whatever it was, Alan’s invader didn’t mind. He pushed that worthless emotion to the pits of his borrowed mind left the room. His offspring followed close behind.

Alan’s invader arrived just in time to see the final moments of the conversions take place. One of Forde’s friends had made it all the way out of the pool, but it was clear in his writhing form and drool falling from his lips that he wouldn’t last long. “Hhhheeeelp,” said that man while Forde and Nolan merely looked on. Alan’s invader noted that he had never seen such a lack of emotion on Forde’s face before. It was completely blank, almost mirroring his own. There was a rush of relief but also disappointment. What set his brother Forde so far apart from all the others was gone. Though Alan’s invader couldn’t say there was true value behind that, it was a shame to see it go.

“It’s over,” said Forde, looking down at his convulsing friends as they suffered during their last moments. “It’s over, Alan.”

Alan’s invader nodded as he approached. He stood over the men as the last traces of their humanity left them. “You have done well, Forde.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“If that’s what you wish.” Forde balled his fists that at the response, but Alan’s invader didn’t pay much mind to that. He instead focused on the rising men as the first bits of awareness reached them. There were still plans to be made, but for now, everything was all right. His spawn would survive this cold and unforgiving world. No, they would do more than that. They would thrive. 

As these thoughts ran through the invader’s mind, he spotted the glint of a metal blade flash in the night.

He recognized just by the sight alone. The invader raised his hands in defense as Forde brandished a small and sharp night, easy to conceal. The sensation of dread returned, and the invader let out a cry of panic. However, before Forde could run him through, several bodies all pinned him down.

Now useless, the knife fell to the pavement with a sharp clatter that made the invader jump. Forde reached out for it with desperate fingers before Nolan kicked it out of reach.

“No…” breathed Forde. “Damnit, damnit!” he said, slamming his fist against the pavement as his former friends rose from their place.

Alan’s invader stepped forward. The knife hadn’t come anywhere near him, yet his skin was covered in goosebumps. Yet another new sensation. “Why did you do that?” he asked with a slight, quizzical tilt of his head.

“To stop the invasion!” screamed Forde. Something akin to desperation and pain danced in his wild eyes. “To stop you. I… look at ourselves, Alan. Look at what we are. I killed Forde, and I lead to all my friends dying.”

“So your plan was to kill me? Your brother, who chose you over all the others who died?”

“It was luck!” shouted Forde. “Y’know that more than anyone that it was only by luck that I was the one to take over Forde. Don’t pull that shit with me!” he said, trembling with rage. His cheeks were completely red and tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. “You didn’t save me. You don’t care about me,” he said, attempting to escape from his friend’s grip.

“You’re right,” nodded Alan’s invader. “I see now that I shouldn’t have cared about you at all.” Disappointment. It was an emotion that his host was intimate with. A disappointing child wasn’t anything new, and disappointment towards himself came as often as the sun rose in the morning. “You’ve always been so emotional. So much more human compared to everyone else. It is no wonder you’ve become the way you are now.”

Forde let out a few more staggered breaths before finally sighing. Head low and shoulder slumped, he asked, “Why am I alive? Why am I here? Out of all the members of our species that you could have saved, why was it me?” 

“I can’t say I know,” was the invader’s blasé response. “However, I do know this. Whatever happened, it was a mistake. I must’ve wronged you in some way, brother. That’s why you believe you’re Forde. It’s why you have these emotions.” The invader gently lifted up Forde’s chin so they were eye-to-eye, faces just inches apart. “You’re a danger to yourself and this invasion, Forde. We can’t afford you to remain alive.”

“A mistake,” echoed Forde. “Just a mistake. That’s all I am, then.” His voice, so filled with defiance and determination just minutes before, was now just a hollow whisper.

“Is this what you wanted?” demanded the invader, punching Forde’s stomach. Forde sucked in air through his teeth but didn’t scream. The invader scoffed and punched him again, but still nothing. “To die amongst your new comrades?” he continued. “Your fellow family?”

“No, I wanted you to die with me, brother,” said Forde, head low. “I want to die for the sins I’m carrying.”

“...You’re disgusting,” said Alan’s invader. “These emotions ruined your opportunity in this world. Even now, I can feel this disgusting human’s sentiments impede my thinking.” He looked up at the stars, where he was certain he belonged, and scowled. “I’m trapped in this in this filthy world, chained up by these petty sins my host refuses to let go. I’m chained to the earth and I can’t fly to the stars like we’re destined to do.” In that cloud of anger, the most visceral emotion he has ever felt, Alan’s invader wound his fist back and struck Forde’s cheek. “I won’t let your nonsense get in our way. I won’t allow you to disrupt my mission and prevent our species from taking its rightful place.”

Forde, still reeling from that blow, looked back up and glared at the invader. There was a tense moment, a brief hesitation, before he spat a glob of blood right at the invader’s face. 

Finally, the invader thought, that fire in his eyes returned. Forde lived once more. That was the last thing the invader wished to see from the brother he had saved. It was an accident, but I don’t carry any regrets, Forde. You carry a potential I wish I could understand, but I must fulfill my duty. Our people, my offspring, deserve the right to live and feel the pride I had the privilege to feel.

“Hold still, freak,” the invader growled as he held Forde’s squirming face still. “You’re wasting valuable resources. I’ll have to pry you out of that body myself.” Once more, the fear in Forde’s eyes returned, but the defiance never left. Even to the end, Forde remained steadfast and full of life. In a low whisper, one he wasn’t certain Forde would even hear, the invader said, “I’ll miss you, my brother. My friend.” The invader gathered himself up in his host’s mouth, growing lightheaded for a second. Then, he leaned in for a kiss.

“NOW!”

Surely, he would’ve seen this coming. Two of Forde’s friends grabbed his arms and pinned him down to the ground. With the surprise impact, Alan accidentally bit down on the slime and allowed the invader to spill onto the pavement. With little way to escape, the invader just lied on the ground, attempting to crawl back into its bleeding host with the speed of a snail.

Forde reached into his pocket and pulled out some kind of packet. The invader could only make out “SALT” before Forde pinned him to the ground. “DIE!” Was the last thing the invader heard from Forde as he shoved the packet into his pathetic, slimy body.

Alan’s friend fell to the ground as well, pinned down by some more of Forde’s friends. What had initially appeared to be the invader’s emotionless spawn revealed themselves to have a wide range of emotions, not unlike Forde.

Ah, a ruse, the invader thought as his body burned at the salt’s touch. How clever. So that’s why Alan’s friend arrived. A distraction to fill the pool with your own flawed, miserable, heartful spawn. He looked up at the weeping, blubbering Forde as Nolan pulled him in for an embrace. You win, brother. Humanity is saved. The burden of your own spawn and the burden of the dead now lie with you.

Why are you alive? Why are you like this? I couldn’t give you an answer, but perhaps you can find it on your own.

I wish you the best, brother.

And the invader stopped thinking.

Common Kurtosy

Request for @lurkinlizards

Lucas spent his whole life in love with Johnny—his next-door neighbor and best friend. Throughout his life, he spent his time slowly pining for the handsome boy now man during middle school, high school, and now university. Was it due to how similar they were? Or maybe it was the small differences that fascinated Lucas so? Either way, he knew that he could never deny his feelings.

Although Lucas spent his high school days and the first year of college experimenting and with little dates with girls and boys alike, the feelings remained true. And like that love, the silence endured. Lucas kept his feelings deep in his heart until the day came that Johnny revealed his own secret.

“Your dad’s a real catch,” Johnny said as Lucas’ father, Kurt, walked back to his bedroom to retire for the night. “A real-deal DILF, y’know. Mine’s just a string-bean.” Then, remaining completely casual, Johnny returned to playing games.

Perhaps it was the nonchalant nature of the confession, or maybe the fact that it was Lucas’ father that had unintentionally stolen Johnny’s heart, but a deep resentment festered in Lucas’ heart. Weeks passed, but the love and hate remained unspoken and unbending until a spell landed in Lucas’ possession.

“Take it away from me,” said a handsome, middle-aged man one; his eyes tinted with regret. He handed Lucas an occult book filled with spells and rituals. “Maybe you’ll use it better than I did. But I need that damn thing away from me and my… my son.”

Somehow, Lucas knew that the book was the real deal. Just the way each page seemed to quiver with some form of power as his fingers thumbed through was enough to convince him. There was something special in his possession and he could not wait to use it.

The target would naturally be his father, and the spell would be that to take over his body, permanently. The spell warned that it was irreversible, as it would swiftly kill the caster's body. However, Lucas had no intention of going back. While his life was aimless as he tried out what exactly engaged him during his first two years of university, his father continued to draw as a successful artist. And despite the years Lucas spent practicing, styling, and perfecting his own drawing methods, he couldn't hold a candle to his father.

So he would steal his talent, his life, and his best friend’s heart. While Lucas’ father slept, he conducted the ritual. His soul shed the complete burden that was his body and life. He stretched his essence as it rose into the air. It was as though he could finally spread his wings after being trapped in a cage.

However, Lucas didn’t dawdle for long. He flew through the walls of his home until he arrived at his father’s room—floating just a few inches above. Clad in just a pair of underwear in these hot summer months, Lucas stared down at his father’s body. His plump chest had a fine layer of hair and his strong jaw was accented by the stylized and thick beard. His face, always complimented with a kind smile, was always welcome wherever he went. All of these features only served to bolster Lucas’ envy and resolve.

Still, he dove onto this man, phasing through Kurt’s impressive chest, as the man shot up in shock. “Wh-Whu?!” he cried out, unconsciously planting his feet on the bed, legs spread, as control over himself swiftly dwindled. "Th-The fuck's happening to—ahh AAHHHH!" Kurt's consciousness quickly faded as Lucas stretched his soul throughout his father's body. It was as if putting on an old yet comfortable cloak that he had misplaced long ago. As the muscles warmed under Lucas’ control as his father, leaking drool and pre-cum, disappeared beneath the depths of his mind.

Lucas awoke and smiled. Somehow, wearing Kurt's smile was more comfortable than his own. He arose from his bed, astonished as to how simple and easy it was. Though Lucas was never ashamed of his own body, the ease of movement and vitality from Kurt's were intoxicating. "Oh, oh my god," he said. The sound of his new baritone sent erotic shivers down his spine. Finally, Lucas was in full control of his father and his fate. “Sorry dad,” he said, chuckling the whole time, “but look at it this way. I’m taking what is rightfully mine, is all.”

For most of the morning, Lucas walked up and down the halls of his home with a ridiculous, masculine strut. Each movement and pop of Kurt’s hot and hairy form was like a drink of ambrosia for Lucas. “Ahhhh…!” he exclaimed as he performed stretches that his old body would have balked at. “God, you feel so good, daddy!” Lucas laughed as he flexed his arms, licking the baseball-sized biceps. Then, he took each of his pectoral and began to massage them, flicking a nipple from time to time. With just that, he was already sporting a hard-on. “Your chest feels so good, dad. Holy crap, you’re so—ngggh—sensitive!”

Before his self-worship could continue, the doorbell suddenly rang. Lucas hadn’t realized that it was already 2pm. Johnny was here.

First, Lucas rushed to his father’s room to get dressed, but he was only just pulling his underwear up his legs before he paused, deep in thought. Why bother putting on so many layers when he’s gonna rip them off once Johnny was in his grasp? Grinning, lowered the underwear as much as he could before making his way towards the door.

As expected, Johnny was on the other side. The effect was immediate. His eyes bugged out and his mouth hung open in a perfect O as he stared at Kurt—now Lucas’—half-naked body. Lucas in particular noticed how Johnny’s gaze seemed particularly glued to his chest. “M-M-Mr. Miles! Hello! Uh, i-is Lucas home?” said Johnny.

Smirking inside, Lucas glanced over his shoulder, leaning against the doorway. "Hmm, might still be asleep. He'll probably be up later."

“O-Oh, is that so? Then, maybe I should just be going...” Johnny began to back away, Lucas placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Now now, no reason to turn tail and go. Lucas’ll be up soon. In the meantime...” Lucas’ pecs bounced to Johnny’s amazement. “Why don’t you keep me company, Johnny-boy?”

As if hypnotized, Johnny absentmindedly nodded and allowed Lucas to lead him inside. The two walked past Lucas’ original room, but Johnny did not protest. Instead, they made their way into Kurt’s room. The bed was made, the sheets were clean, and the room was ready for staining.

“Caught you lookin’ at me a certain way, Johnny-boy,” said Lucas, savoring the way he said his best friend’s name. “Thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“N-Not at all, sir,” said Johnny as several beads of nervous—or perhaps excited—sweat cascading down his brow. “B-But I did stare from time to time. I-I’m not gonna deny that.” He trembled, but the lustful smile did not lie.

“Well, what kinda fantasizes were you having about me?” Leaning in close, teasing Johnny was a small lick, Lucas whispered, “I’m curious.”

“I wanna worship ya! And then I want you to wreck my ass with that big-ass cock of yours!” Johnny’s voice lacked any shame or reservation. His eyes glistened with pure lust.

“Well then,” Lucas said, gently taking Johnny’s arm before pulling the two of them back. They fell back onto the bed, Johnny’s face landing on Lucas’ new chest. “Go right ahead. Show me what you’ve got.”

Johnny eagerly complied. He worked hard as he licked the pecs, not minding the carpet of hair on Lucas’ chest while massing and twerking the nipples. “You’re like a newborn on his mom’s breasts,” Lucas chuckled. “There ain’t no milk there.”

“I don’t care,” Johnny breathed. “Give me more,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans and slowly pulling them off while grinding up against Lucas’ torso. Each part of his body seemed to scream for more and more of Lucas. Not a single crease remained untouched.

Lucas moaned as Johnny continued to tease him. His father’s nipples were so sensitive, and just a graze from Johnny’s tongue sent him pre-cumming in his underwear. “God, you’re so cute worshippin’ my body like that.”

Johnny smiled as he sucked on Lucas’ chest.

“But, you ready for the real course?” The eagerness in Johnny’s eyes made Lucas laugh. “You’re so cute sometimes, y’know.”

Johnny responded by kneeling on the bed and removing his shirt and briefs while Lucas drank in the sight. He had often seen his best friend shirtless during the times they went running or swimming, but this was something else entirely. Now, Johnny was completely naked and aroused. At him--at Lucas. The way his lips seemed to quiver and his body trembled with both want and fear of what would come next only cemented Lucas' thoughts.

I made the right choice, he thought. No, I made the choice that was right for me. I deserve this.

Years of fruitless pining all disappeared with a single spell—and though more hardships would follow, Lucas embraced this moment of bliss with all his heart.

“Let’s make love,” he told Johnny.

Johnny bit his lip while Lucas soft muttered and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be slow. I won’t hurt you. Nggh! Holy shit.” Lucas knew that Johnny was experienced, but somehow that hole wasn’t loose at all. He was tight and quite experienced, moving his hips in sync with Lucas’ thrusts.

"F-Fuck me, daddy, holy shit!" Johnny cried out, embracing Lucas with both arms and pushing himself more onto Lucas' chest. "Ah! C-C'mon! Fuck me harder."

“God, you love to beg!” Lucas yelled, trying to push more and more of himself into Johnny as if he was trying to possess him. “Scream harder for me, Johnny-boy. I want to hear how much you love my body. NGGH! How much you love me.”

Johnny let out another cry as Lucas thrust hard into his prostate. His pre-cum ran like a bubbling volcano. “I’m g-gonna cum! Kurt, d-daddy, I’m gonna—AHHH! I’m gonna cum!” Before Lucas could even react, Johnny wrapped his legs around his torso and pulled him in as much as he could. With another roar of ecstasy, Johnny screamed, “I’M CUMMING!”

Lucas grinned as he saw Johnny's sweat-matted face, almost convulsing as he sprayed his load between them. Just his voice and his eyes shining with ecstasy and pleasure were enough to push Lucas over the edge. With a manly roar, Lucas shouted, "Take on daddy's load, Johnny-boy!" he said, pushing Johnny's face onto his chest as he shot load after load into Johnny's waiting asshole.

The two of them lied back on the bed in each other’s embrace. Lucas knew that eventually this peace would end and he would have to suffer through the consequences of his spell, but for now, he could be in post-coitus alongside the love of his life. “Love ya, Johnny-boy,” he said, drunk in the moment.

“I love you too, Kurt,” Johnny said, smiling and cuddling close to him.

Hello again, same anon from yesterday. I definitely respect your choice to keep the story a standalone. I've really been enjoying your work and look forward to seeing what else you post.

Thank you! I'll keep on working hard and improving.

FEStival Fiasco

Mizar Interlude

The joys of physical touch fascinated Mizar so. With every lover and climax, he felt more and more inclined to remain in this blue rock for the rest of his life just having his prostate ridden.

Luckily for him, Mizar found himself in a stuffy office full of men who desperately needed someone to relieve stress with. After a few winks and thirsty looks, Mizar had his next plaything on lock.

“Ngh! C’mon, harder!” he begged at this handsome stranger in a suit. They were in an unused meeting room that, according to his host’s coworker, would not be used for another hour. Mizar was on his back, completely naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, as his partner fucked him with just his slacks down. By now, he was far from festival grounds by highjacking bodies and hopping on dicks. This would just be another ride he could take advantage of.

“Holy shit, John!" The businessman, whatever his name was, exclaimed as he continued pounding Mizar. "You always seemed so uptight! Who knew you were such a cockslut," the man said with a chuckle as he picked up the pace. "And such a tight ass. Holy hell, it's like it's sucking me in."

“Ahhh,” Mizar moaned, arching his back while trying to meet John’s coworker with equal vigor.  He truly had no idea what his host’s name was or even his position in the company, but none of that mattered compared to the burning desire for carnal pleasure. “K-Keep it up. C’mon, fuck me hard! Make me forget even my own name!” Mizar shouted, repeating phrases from previous partners. When in Rome, as one of them had said when he first came to them with an erection that wouldn’t go down and a crazed need to bottom. Or was it, any hole’s a good one?

All of the thoughts instantly vanished from Mizar as his partner delivered another powerful thrust. "Ngh! F-FUCK!" Not nearly satisfied enough, Mizar wrapped his legs around his coworker's torso and pull him even deeper into himself. "Paint my insides white! Tear me in half like—OOOH—LIKE A COCK WHORE!"

“Here it comes!” Mizar’s lover cried out, balancing on his toes to push even deeper as he came. Mizar grinned as he felt each shot fill him up with warm semen. Soon after, as his lover’s climax dribbled away, he reached his own peak as well. Load after load fell onto Mizar’s borrowed, sweaty torso, and he enjoyed rubbing it all over himself. He wasn’t sure if it was his possession that caused such tremors of ecstasy with all of his hosts, but he was far and beyond the point of caring. For Mizar, his life would be peaks and valleys of time when he was seeking his new high. “Come hereeee...” he whispered, tongue sticking out as he grabbed his lover by the tie and pulled him close.

Another peak, another valley. Now was the time to find another experience. Without delay, Mizar jumped from John and into his new ride. Although the businessman struggled and tried to push Mizar away, he could not stop the alien sliding in through his mouth and traveling up to his brain. "NGH! MM! Oh—oh god!" The man groaned, collapsing on top of John's drooling and unconscious body as Mizar bit down on his brain. After some small convulsions and a few waves of pleasure, Mizar stood up and admired his new husk. The hard-on that threatened to no longer fit in his slacks and jock-strap fascinated Mizar the most.

“Let’s go,” Mizar said to himself, not even bothering to figure out more about this man or how to lay low. All that mattered to him was finding his next peak.

Do you think you'll ever do a follow up to Keepin' it in the Family? I'm curious to know what happens next for Daniel and Alex.

I did manage to sneak in a li'l easter egg for what happened to them.

I mainly wanted Keepin' it in the Family as a standalone. Maybe in the future if I get a request for it.