Slickness Pill
Slickness Pill
Garret didn't take shit from nobody, let alone some cocksucker at his gym. The rottweiler stumbled back from Garret's punch and fell backwards over a bench, hitting his head against one of the wall lockers. Garret, a five-foot-seven foot tall orange tiger, was by no means a fighter, but his animosity toward the would-be rapist, the pervert that was eyeing his ass was more than enough to compensate for fighting style.
"Fag," Garret said with as much disdain as he could muster. The rottweiler didn't seem to get up, but Garret didn't care. He walked up to the fairy and gave him a kick while he was down and spat. The tiger walked away.
Some people rushed in to see what the commotion was about, quickly crowding the small lockerroom.
As Garret walked out the door. One of the gym workers, a cougar, followed him to his truck, "Hey, why did you hit Brendan?"
"The fag was just staring at my ass," Garret seethed.
The cougar's eyes narrowed down on Garret, "There's a strict no violence policy at this gym."
"Don't you guys have some no homo policy too?"
"We do not," the worker snapped, "We're also going to have to revoke your membership here."
"What's your name?"
"Kyle," the cougar's face tightened as he spat out his name.
"Well, Kyle," Garret drew out the syllables slowly, "Where's your manager?"
"I am the manager."
"Well, fuck this place, I don't need to be surrounded by all you faggots."
Garret stepped into his F450 and sped off.
As Garret drove down the highway the sunset over the coast on his right, he thought to himself. That makes the third gym he's quit this year. Isn't there anywhere in this fucking city that didn't have all these nancy boys running around?
Garret stepped out of his truck and into the parking lot of his apartment complex. He had been complaining to himself the entire drive home, thinking about how his own boss left his wife for some prissy little bunny boy earlier in the month. He was already angry that his neighbors were probably fags as well. Though the notion of moving was a bit of a sore spot. He just couldn't afford to move to some nice suburb where soccor moms would form lines to ride his fat prick.
He furiously masturbated his five and a half by five and a half until he fell asleep.
***
The meeting in the morning was extraordinarily boring, Garret's boss, Jim, tried desperately to be friendly, but Garret couldn't look at him at all. All he could think about was the gross bedroom activities and sins that Jim must have commited last night. Thank god it's Friday, Garret thought to himself.
It was noon by the time the meetings were over, and Garret hurried to Duke's cube to get some lunch. The liger wasn't there. Was he sick or something, Garret thought to himself? No, because Duke had texted him with a good rugby blog just last night.
Lunch wasn't quite the same without Duke. Garret sat at his office checking the remaining funds in his bank account, they were dwindling quickly, maybe he'd be able to ask the receptionist out on a date. Jennifer was this side of homely, but for a Great Dane she wasn't that bad. The way she eyed Garret told him that she'd definitely let him stick it in her. Though the thought of her calling him back might not work out, and heavily weighed against asking.
"Knock knock," Garret recognized Duke's standard greeting as he walked into the office. The portly six-foot-eight liger built like a small tank sat down across the desk from Garret.
"Fuck man, where have you been?" The tiger asked.
"Oh," Duke thought, "I was at the doctor's this morning."
"Did the fag fondle your scrotum and you liked it? That's why you weren't back in time for lunch?"
Duke laughed, though had Garret paid attention, he might have recognized the nervousness behind it.
"C'mon, we should go to the titty bar." Garret grabbed his coat.
"I-I'd like to, man, b--"
"But what? You love Lestra's more than me."
"I just--I can't. Bills, you know?"
"That's not what you said last friday." Garret was starting to get annoyed. "The fuck is the matter with you?"
"I've just had a lot on my mind lately."
"Is it the hybrid thing? God. You're lucky, never have to wear a rubber, never have to worry about spawning some little bastard children."
Garret's friend was visibly hurt, and he could tell.
"Look, I'm licensed from three ankle bitters, you can have progeny."
"No," Duke said solemnly, "no need to contribute to the over population."
"Amen," Garret put on his coat, "So you coming?"
"How about a raincheck?" Duke smiled politely, "You know, maybe I might get a big bonus or something and I can take care of some of my loans."
"Fine, whatever." Garret left, leaving Duke alone in his office.
***
The F450 roared into the parking lot of Lestra's. Lestra's had been on a decline in business over the last few months, they had to up the cover charge in the recent weeks. Garret didn't want to go in alone, he would have just felt like one of those creepy old fuckers who stalked to girls who danced there. On top of it, Duke was right, it was expensive, and it probably would have cost more this time around.
He decided he needed to work out his frustration, so he hopped back into his truck and drove away. It was until he pulled into his usual parking spot at the gym that he realized that he was no longer a member there.
"Fuck me." Garret whispered to himself as he recalled the shit that went down just the previous night. He gazed around, and remembered that was a pretty cheap tavern just across the road. Swamp Corner.
It was a fairly decent bar, and glancing at the menu, the drinks weren't super expensive. The tavern was clean and not the dive that it appeared to be from the outside. As he sat down to the bar, he noticed the tigress on the otherside of the bar slowly hanging up the phone.
"Hey there, tough looking," she flirted with him. Leaning over and causually displaying her merchandise, and not the alcoholic variety. She smiled as she caught him with his eyes on her cookie jars. "What can I get ya?"
"Double Jack and Coke."
"I like a tiger who knows what he wants. Right away," she had that strut in her walk, her tail lazily swishing back and forth, as though it were dancing just for him.
She leaned back as she poured his drink, catching his eyes on her shapely buttocks, cleverly concealed behind a short skirt. "The name's Stacy, if you wanted to know."
***
The night was winding down, Stacy had just set out another round for herself and Garret. She brushed back her bangs and gave him a big toothy smile. "Ready big boy?"
"Woah, how am I going to pay for all these shots?"
"These were on me." She winked.
Garret wasn't usually the kind to question free drinks, especially from quite a smarmy little tigress like Stacy, but the alcohol asked anyway. "Why?"
"Silly, because you'll be coming back tomorrow. Because I'm going to tell you that I get off work early, and somebody's going to be giving me a really big tip." She growled ever so slightly.
They slammed back the last shot and she sent him on his way home.
He set his keys down next time his answer machine, there was one message on it. Garret automatically hit play.
"Garret?" Duke spoke, "Oh, voicemail, Ugh, hey Garret. It's me Duke. I just wanted to talk to you about..."
The voicemail became indistinct as Garret walked away from the voicemail, Duke was probably going to blather on about the game that Garret had missed because he was having too good of a time with Stacy at the tavern.
As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.
***
It must have been noon when Garret woke up. It was two by the time he mustered enough strength to get in the shower. He planned to go get flowers for Stacy, maybe some candy, definitely some rubbers. As he made up his shopping list, the voicemail light blinked ambiently. Didn't he already listen to it?
"Garret? Damn, voicemail. Well, just wanted to let you know that I'm back at the doctor's. I'm going to go through with the procedure, I just sort of wish you were here to see me one last time. Well, you probably don't want to see me afterward, and I really can't blame you. Goodbye."
The fuck was he going on about? Good, he hadn't deleted the old voicemails.
"Garret? Oh, voicemail, Ugh, hey Garret, it's me Duke. I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. I wanted to tell you in your office, but I couldn't get the courage. I've been seeing a doctor about the sexuality adjustment. You know, the one that the government has been pushing to help with overpopulation? Their new program also has a grant for a few grand, even for a hybrid.
"Garret, I know how you feel about gay people, and I'm sorry, the money is too good, and I'm really tired of being alone all the time. I saw Jim and how happy he is with his partner. They get along better than he ever did with his wife. No girl wants me, and I think I just might be happier.
"So I'm being transferred to another account, and they even advanced me the grant to put down on a new house.
"I'm not saying you should come out and try to stop me, I've already made up my mind. But I guess I could meet you down at Lestra's. If you never want to talk to me, I understand."
Garret sat down. He didn't know what to make of all of that. His best friend, was going to become a faggot? How could he do that to him? Garret didn't even know how something like that would work. How do you change someone's sexual orientation? Garret knew enough that it wasn't a choice, because he would never choose to sleep with another fucking man.
The phone rang, "Duke?"
"No silly, it's me!" Stacy. "Where you at hon?"
Garret looked up at the clock, somehow it was already seven.
"I'm about to get off of work in an hour."
"Jeez, I'm so sorry."
"How about you just tell me your address and maybe you can pay me back for those shots last night?"
Garret had a lot on his mind at this point, but his prick hadn't seen action in a while, and perhaps it would let off some steam. He gave her his address.
It wasn't a half hour later, that there was knocking on his door. Damn, bitch must really want it, even left early to--it wasn't her at the door. It was a rottweiler with a big grin on his face. Garret didn't instantly recognize at first, but after the punch to the face, it came back quickly. Brent? Dan? The second follow up punch sent Garret sprawling to the floor. Brendan.
"Stacy says hello," Brendan announced.
There were suddenly two or three more people in the foyer of his apartment. They hefted him up quickly and though he fought, these guys were much bigger than him, and just as burly as Brendan.
He was dragged into his bedroom and it started to dawn on him what was happening. His arms were tied down to the post of the bed, and he felt his pants being dragged down around his ankles.
The rottweiler spoke, "Anyone ever tell you the procedure to change sexualities?"
"Fuck you," Garret cried out, powerless as he struggled against his restraints. Something wrapped around his muzzle and was cinched down hard on it. He groaned out several explitives, that his captors only laughed it.
"They have it in suppository form."
A paw grabbed onto his tail and lifted it high. Something cold and slick pressed up against his tail hole. Garret felt a stab of anxiety as he started to piece together what was happening. He pleaded to do whatever they want, that he would rather die than be a fucking fairy. The muffled plead fell on deaf ears as it started to part his asshole. He tried to fight it, but it was no good. It shot sparks of pain as it slid deeper into him. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes and he realized his fate.
"Tight aren't you? You're lucky enough that we're weening you with this plug. The suppository is much bigger. Much bigger." Brendan laughed.
What could he do to get out of this? There had to be a way. His mind was racing as they pulled the plug out. He felt his breathe return momentarily. He tightened again as he felt another cold object press against his hole.
"Stop your crying, you're going to want what's coming to you. As soon as this is done, you're going to want to suck us all off after we've all taken turns on your ass."
Garret cried more as the rottweiler's words sank into his brain.
It still hurt as they slid it in, but his ass was slippery with whatever the lube they placed on the plug. He felt his hole encompass the pill, and he tried to force it out with his muscles, but he felt something extremely hot bump up against his hole.
"Oh no you don't."
It was the rottweiler's prick, the heat coming off of it felt like vengeance. He shoved it in and Garret was paralyzed. He couldn't feel anything but the burning cock buried deep inside of him.
"Just breath, relax, let the change happen."
He did what he was commanded to, it didn't feel as though it were his will. Was the change that quick? Is it working already? He felt some of the pressure relieve as the rottweiler slowly pulled out.
"Tell me you want it," the rottweiler growled.
He groaned. He didn't want to, but he felt a longing for the fullness that was a dick deep in his flesh. He could almost hear the rottweiler smile. He felt Brendan fill him more, this time slower. He started to work it rhythmically. Garret's prick was so hard that it hurt.
"Tell me you want more," the rottweiler suggested.
It was a moan this time, and there was a shuffle around the bed. Somebody had positioned themselves in front of him. It was a rather large bear, his thick veiny prick bobbled in front of Garret's face. A thread of precum oozing out for his own entertainment. The strap around his muzzle came loose. The combination of the musk and the pill compelled Garret to draw the bear's fleshy into his maw.
Garret felt both manhoods as they pressed deep into both ends.
He felt a pressure against his insides building up. He could feel every muscle tighten as he shot his spunk into his sheets. Sparks of lights lit behind his eye lids as he struggled to contain the throws of his orgasm.
"Hot damn," the rottweiler buck against Garret's tailhole, drawing out his own DNA. The dog grabbed tiger by the hips and forced his sperm deeper inside Garret. "Fuck," he panted, "who's next?"
"Naw, not me, I'm enjoying his nice hot muzzle, you like it too, don't you you lilttle cocksucker?" the bear growled. "Look at me, when I'm talking to you."
Garret opened his eyes to see the owner of the fat dick in his mouth. He was all smiles, "Aren't you a good little cocksucker?" He bear stroked Garret's head fur in a degrading and patronizing way.
The canine pulled out and just as quickly as someone else hilted Garret where Brendan left off. Garret felt shakey in the knees as this one was more forceful than the rottweiler, slamming deeper and further than the previous cock that inhabited his insides.
He gasped as it seemed to strike a chord somewhere deep inside of him, but as he gasped the bear's dick forced itself into Garret's throat, he gagged a little and tried to get away from it, but something was holding his head down on the massive dick lodged in his esophagus.
"Yea," the bear pulled out as Garret rediscovered his love of air, hot, humid musky air. With a few strokes, the bear squirted jets of his juice all over Garret's maw. The loads spashed every where across his nose and muzzle. The bear grabbed onto Garret's head once again, forcing it back into his hot sticky mouth and began to unleash the last torrents of his warm spunk.
"Swallow," the rotty instructed.
"He's way ahead of you," the bear casually responded, his afterglow shining brilliant in the hot wet night.
The desire for an oral fixation overwhelmed Garret, and he continued to lick and suckle at the floppy erection while the person behind him continued to pump his asshole. The tiger could feel himself getting hard again as the cock buried in his tailhole found a treasure trove of esctasy. He didn't want it to stop. The fucker stopped mid-stride and that's when Garret started to realize that he was riding down on the prick just as hard as he was being fucked.
Garret continued to ride down on it and suck the last bits of spooge out of the bear until he realized that he was beyond the point of no return for a second orgasm. He held his breath as the muscles constricted against the girth that he was impaled upon. His orgasm spewed forth and he felt the slick cock pull out of him.
He gasped and collapsed, breathing heavily of the sweat and musk that thickly saturated the bedroom.
He didn't know when they had left, but he was lost in thought. His afterglow spoiled by the fact that he was now what he hated the most. A faggot.
***
It rained on Sunday. Garret could hear it. He still laid in his own spunk. He had no motivation to go anywhere. He had no drive to do anything. He simply laid there.
He wanted to cry, but he couldn't.
He felt guilt as it washed over him. Now, he would be the one beaten for something he didn't choose to be. Would they understand if he told them his story? Would they even care?
The gears turned in his head, he knew he wouldn't find a sympathetic shoulder. His only friend left. He wanted to apologize to Duke. Duke was the only friend he had, and at this point, it wouldn't matter what Duke is or was or will be, that his friendship means more than any of those things.
A voice in the back of his mind said that there might be a chance that Duke had yet to finish moving out. He was lazy as a lion, or at least half of one.
Garret cleaned himself up and hurried to Duke's place.
Sure enough, as Garret pulled up to Duke's apartment, Duke was still moving some lights. He looked a little dissappinted when he saw Garret's truck parking next to the moving van.
Garret jumped out and hurried to Duke.
"If you're going to beat me up, can you at least wait until--"
Garret found himself wrapping his arms around the ligar, tears welling up behind his eyes. He cried into Duke's massive chest. Duke set down the light fixtures and embraced Garret.
"Hey, I'm really still just the same guy, I just happen to--"
Garret drew Duke into a kiss. Duke reciprocated. They kissed in the rain for what felt like hours. Garret didn't know anything could feel so right, but at that moment, this was it. They slowly worked their way into the moving truck to get out of the rain. Garret slowly working off his clothes and Duke following his lead.
Inside the van, the mattress beckoned the both of them. In one quick motion, Garret laid the mattress down and it was ready to be put to use. The tiger laid upon his back as the liger positioned himself above him. They continued to trade kisses as Duke entered Garret. Their breathing becoming heavy with pants as the liger's thickness stretched Garret's insides around it. Garret opened his eyes to see Duke watching him for any signs of pain.
"Are you okay?"
"Yea, it feels great."
The heavy liger continued to pump Garret while they kissed softly.
"Duke, I'm going to--" his words trailed off as he climaxed, his jism squirting between the both of them.
"Me too." Duke bucked a few more times against the tight tailhole as his wad spilled into Garret.
Exhausted, they laid next to each other, cuddling in the afterglow.
***
"So I still really like rugby, I think I like it more now that I think the guys playing it are kind of hot."
There was something about Duke's laugh that Garret wanted to hear more of.
"You're still the same guy, you didn't sell your truck for a volkswagon jetta."
"You know," Garret pondered, "I don't feel that much more different."
"I hope that you do, the old Garret wouldn't offer to help me move into my new house."
"I'm still not offering," Garret smiled. "Don't give me that look, I'm going to help you move, no need to ask."
"What's the catch?"
"You're going to offer to let me live with you."
"That's a shame," Duke said bitterly.
Did he already find someone? Was this just some fling that he let himself get duped into? Stupid stupid stupid.
"I moved all the heavy stuff first."
"You cheeky bastard."
"Now put on your clothes, and let's get this move finish, I have to return the van tomorrow."
They kissed again.
As Garret stepped out of the van, he realized he bumped into someone who was looking the other way. The rather thick doberman dropped his mail. Garret decided he would help out, and as they both reached down to pick up the mail, Garret realized it wasn't a doberman, but a rottweiler.
"Shit. I thought that was your truck," Brendan admitted.
"Brendan?" Duke stepped out of the van, half dressed.
"You know each other?" Garret asked.
"Brendan's my neighbor," Duke said buttoning up his shirt.
"I'm sorry about last night," Brendan admitted, "I was just so--"
"No, I just wanted to thank you for that."
"Th-thank?" the rottweiler stammered.
"If you hadn't had turned me, I think I might have missed out on the way I feel about Duke."
The rottweiler scratched his head. "Well--"
"Garret? What are you talking about?"
"Brendan, well, ugh, unconventionally gave me treatment to convert my orientation."
"Brendan's a surgeon?" Duke asked quizically.
"Huh?"
"Well this is sufficiently awkward," the rotty dropping eye contact from the conversation.
"The procedure is only surgical. They modify a segment of your brain." Duke said, "What treatment could Brendan possibly have given you?"
The End.