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Ink Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Mithrasity

Painted nails drummed on the top of the desk, tapping along the laminated material that had been designed to stand up to the rigors of a chemistry class, but had failed to withstand the compulsion of students to leave their mark on the ages. The nails were each intricately and separately painted, depicting various symbols on a rainbow of backdrops. It started out black on the left pinky with an at symbol and ended with a white pinky on the right hand with an omega. Between there were hearts and stars. It was quite a work of art, one many girls would have died for... but the painted nails belonged to a boy.

Chris was one of the few unabashedly, openly gay students of Western. He'd come out of the closet to his parents in middle school and they had been fully supportive. Chris had always felt lucky in that regard, escaping the shame and doubt and guilt from his own family that most homosexual youth faced... It had encouraged him to truly be himself, not to take shit from anyone and to live life to the fullest. Sadly, the world had not gotten the same memo.

The eighteen year old had, yet again, been left alone for the chemistry project. It was hard to picture given the fact that there was an even number of students. The first few times it had been the result of someone's desperate plea to form a threesome, but today Alan Ulman had simply feigned sickness and left the classroom. Chris knew Alan was merely sick of putting up with him.

Chris brought his hazel eyes to look at his reflection in the window. He still had his boyish charm, though he'd been an early bloomer in some respects. He'd grown a mustache at the age of thirteen, his peach fuzz darkening to a respectable brown years before anyone else's. Despite being gay, Chris had taken pride in that too and resisted everyone's urging to shave. As he'd come into high school, that mustache had been grown out and Chris had embraced his inner hipster too. On some days he even waxed the edges into slight curls for the laugh factor.

His brown hair was kept just short of being shaggy, hanging down over his ears, almost obscuring the diamond studs he had there. The dark hair was always contrasted with brightly colored clothing. Tie-dye, neons, athletic wear. Whatever it was, Chris wanted it loud... and he succeeded. He gazed at his reflection and reaffirmed once more that he was proud of who he was, but that didn't change the fact that he was getting a bit lonely. He knew not all schools were as bigoted, that college would be better... but he was impatient. He wanted friends now. If he couldn't make them at school, he'd have to try something else.

The chemistry teacher continued his lecture, but Chris's mind was elsewhere. He combed the city in his imagination, trying to decide where the biggest population of cool, trendy gay men might be... and he thought of the club downtown, Runescape. The gay club had faced some conflict when it first opened. Protest groups had taken out newspaper ads and a billboard against the club, calling it 'ruinscape'. When the billboard had mysteriously exploded and yet the police pressed no charges, the protests died away.

Chris decided the gay club seemed like the perfect place to meet more of his kind, but being eighteen posed a problem. Chris would have to sneak in. He reached up, a finger sliding across his mustache. He knew that would be nothing but a boon to his cause, but he'd still have to figure out ways to convince the bouncers he was legal to enter the 21 and up club. He knew he had a lot of work to do, but it would be worth it.

****

The door to the club eased open, the hot air and music rushing past the threshold o spill into the night. The doorway had opened just long enough to admit one person - Chris. He strode in, looking around, still feeling a bit unlike himself. His normally straight brown hair had been worked up into spikes, showing off his pierced ears and the bit of golden hued eye shadow he'd put on. He wore a simple fish net shirt and extremely tight black jeans leading down to boots, but he'd stepped out on a limb with more than just his fake ID.

The fishnet shirt showed off his nipples, normally plain and simple but he'd used costume jewelry to make them look pierced. That aspect, combined with his artistic skills to depict a fake tattoo on his shoulder, gave more credence to the idea that he was older than he looked. The fake ID from Carlos had worked as well, leading the bouncer to flirt with Chris. Chris had been more than flattered, he felt as if after being overlooked for so long, he'd finally been accepted. Chris mad his way over to the bar, leaning against it long enough to get the bartender's attention. The man with a shaved head moved over, still washing up a glass.

"What can I get for you?" The man asked.

"I'll have an Appletini." Chris said with a winning smile. The man nodded and went about his business. Chris honestly had no idea if he'd like the drink, but he wanted to sound decisive. As the bartender moved to get his drinks, Chris surveyed the crowd. There were leather daddies, emo boys, scene kids, a punk or two and even some rubber clad men into dog and pony play. Chris had seen it all on the internet, experimented with porn from it all, but he stood there almost petrified, gazing out at an endless sea of options.

"First time?" Came a deep, gravely voice. Chris nearly jumped out of his boots, but managed to try and look half relaxed as he turned, his eyes meeting incredibly deep brown eyes, set in a well tanned face. The man standing next to him was in his late twenties or early thirties, his brown hair incredibly long, pulled back into a loose ponytail. From his chin a long, curved goatee tuft came sloping down, angling more or less into a point several inches below his jaw. A dark lipped smile hinted at the corners of his mouth.

"Uh, well, yeah." Chris admitted. He may have lied to get into the club and even to keep up appearances, but he hadn't gotten where he was by lying. He had lived his life with pride, with openness and without giving a shit what other people thought... or at least trying to.

"Well, don't be nervous. The people here are a friendly sort." The man smiled.

"That's not it, I sure they am, and normally I don't have any issue being open, it's just I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to, like, trying to date anyone." Chris said. The man leaned against the bar, looking Chris over again.

"A guy like you? I'd think you'd have to scrape the boys off with a spatula and a good old dose of pam." The man smirked. Chris grinned a bit at that before shrugging.

"That only works if there are some flaming hot gay guys around." Chris said, trying to play with the metaphor, "I guess you could say I'm from a conservative area. Restrictive teachers, even more restrictive classmates" Chris concluded without thinking of the fact he was revealing how young he was. The man shook his head.

"A shame, a guy like you needs to sew his wild oats... The one thing I learned a long time ago, though, was that many conservatives just live their lives that way because they don't know any better. You'd be surprised how many come around when they realize life could be better on the other side." The man considered for a long moment before he reached into his pocket, fishing around before he pulled out an item, offering it to Chris.

"What is it?" Chris asked, trying to peek between the man's fingers. The man chuckled.

"A gift, come on." He offered. Chris hesitantly opened his hand. As the man released, a steel ring dropped into his hand, ingrained on the outer edge with an intricate weaving tribal pattern while remaining completely smooth on the inside. Chris looked at it for a long moment. It was too wide to be a ring for one's fingers, too heavy to be an earring or a nose ring. Chris briefly considered it to be a big toe ring before he realized where it actually went. Chris' eyes went wide and he looked at the man again.

"Are you serious?" Chris asked.

"Trust me, its clean... but if you want to clean it first, that's fine too. Someone gave that to me a long time ago and it reminded me that I was special, that I didn't have to take shit from anyone... and most importantly, it reminded me what I wanted was always within reach." The man chuckled, "Anyhow, it was passed down to me when I needed it, so now I do the same."

"Your appletini sir." The bartender said, setting the drink down on the bar. Chris stood there, holding a cock ring in one hand, reaching for the drink with the other, feeling like a sir for the first time in his life. He lifted the drink and brought it to his lips, taking a sip and letting the drink flow in beneath his hipster stache. Slowly his lips bent into a grin. It was going to be a fun night.

****

The dew soaked the ground, the air still heavy with moisture as the sun started to rise. Chris made his way across his front lawn with an arm full of stuff, trying to remain as quiet as he could, but being drunk made that a bit harder. He caught a metal bucket with his foot and sent it flying into a near by bush. He cringed, but the noise wasn't enough to alert his parents or neighbors... or so he hoped. Chris made it to his window and hoisted it up carefully, trying a few times unsuccessfully to get his leg over without using his arms, but on the third attempt he got it over and was through, stumbling in.

He skidded across his floor and rammed his bed, falling onto it. The whole thing seemed rather funny and he giggled, unable to contain himself. He let go of his cargo and moved back to lower his window, though he saw the man's black car in the street. He gave a soft wave to the man before he pulled his window shut and watched the car drive off. Chris licked his lips and grinned happily. It had been a wonderful night.

The teenager turned to move back to bed, planning to clear it off and sleep... but as he saw the box and the cock ring he'd been given, he remembered how curious he'd been. The box had been a gift just like the cock ring, but he'd promised not to open it until he got home. Chris moved over curiously, running his hands over the one foot by two foot box, though it was only a few inches thick. He toyed with the edges before he began pulling it up.

The box resisted at first, but eventually came loose, the lower section dropping back down to the bed heavily. Clothes filled the box, an outfit, but one unlike Chris had ever seen. It was made of red and black leather. There were pants with a variety of zippers and metal d-rings as well as a vest that was mostly red leather, though the inside seemed abnormally soft. Chris lifted the outfit out and looked at it in surprise, not sure how to feel...

It wasn't anything like he'd usually wear, so outlandish and fetishy... But at the same time, he had always been bold. He'd love to catch people off guard and what better than that? But he didn't even know if it fit him. In his drunken state, Chris decided to put off going to bed in favor of learning if the new outfit fit. He slipped off his fish net shirt without disturbing his painted on tattoos, dropping his pants soon after. He looked down and saw his boxer shorts, but decided they'd feel uncomfortable in leather pants. Though, for lack of tighty whities, Chris knew he'd have to go nude underneath.

The teenager pulled the vest on first, feeling his arms slip through the arm holes, zipping up the red. It almost seemed form fitting to him, cupping his pectorals, spread across his abdomen. It even felt amazing over his shoulders, though he felt a bit of a breeze. Chris turned to look over his shoulder at the mirror above his dresser, seeing that there was a vertical panel missing along the center of the spine. It was odd, but in a way alluring. A bit more flesh to show off.

Chris grinned, satisfied with the vest, moving onto the pants next. They were hard to wriggle into, but they popped on like a nice pair of boots. They fit perfectly over his legs and even held his ass well, but the crotch felt a bit weird... almost too roomy. Chris reached down and tried to adjust the pants, but as he fumbled the zippers sagged and suddenly the entire crotch flopped forward, letting his manhood hang out.

Normally Chris would have been quite embarrassed, but without any inhibitions from the alcohol, he grinned. It would be easy to have sex in those pants. Chris giggled a bit and gave himself a few strokes, but his eyes drifted to the ring on the bed, the cock ring that he'd been given by the strange, mysterious man. Chris thought back to what the man had said. What he wanted was within reach, he was special, and he could have it all.

The teenager reached out and lifted the ring up, looking at it carefully before he brought it to his cock head. The ring was a bit bigger than Chris was, but that made it easy to slide around his shaft. As the ring passed over the cock, almost like a magnet, the shaft began to react and stiffen without even being touched. Chris brought it down further and further, along his shaft before it tucked up gently at the base, just above his sack. Chris inhaled deeper and deeper, looking at his cock, his eyes widening.

As he stood there, holding the ring, his cock continued to grow. It stretched out longer and grew fatter, reaching full erection in a few seconds... and then surpassing it. Chris moaned softly as his cock grew wider and wider and wider, surpassing two inches thick, then three, then four. Soon the cock had grown wide enough to fit the ring, looking quite fat. Chris couldn't believe it. He knew it had to be the fact that he was drunk, but as he looked at himself, his buzz was wearing off. In fact, everything was becoming clearer.

Chris closed his eyes, groaning as his brain tingled and throbbed. The fuzz was lifted, the delerium cleared and his sensations became crystal clear. As Chris' eyes snapped open, the hazel color practically sizzled, lightening up, turning to the color of honey and then the color of amber. He panted sharply, his breath growing hotter and hotter. While he couldn't feel it, his canine teeth were growing sharper and sharper, stretching longer and into points on the top and bottom, looking far more deadly. Even his ears elongated, taking on the faintest points.

The teen turned, looking at his mirror, eyes wide. The illustrated tattoos on his arms began to sparkle and shimmer, the blacks growing darker, sinking into his skin. The flesh burned for a moment, stinging sharply before going dull again... but the tribal marks were far deeper, far more distinct. Chris reached up, his fingers running across the symbols. He couldn't feel the pigment, the powder, the base, anything. The tattoos had become part of him, the ink had become permanent. Chris looked horrified, confused, but somehow... elated.

A grin crossed Chris's face, the grin growing wider and wider, even more maniacal. A flash of power swept through him, starting in his mind and running down his spine, reaching his cock before there was a rush. His prostate and balls worked together and soon enough his cock was spasming, spraying out an intensely hot, thick, and steady stream of cum that soaked his dresser. Chris fell to his knees with the power of it all before he screamed in bliss. It was the most intense pleasure he had ever known... and somehow all the fatigue of the night faded away. He wouldn't have to fake being sick for school after all, he was ready for anything.

****

Chris's least favorite time of the day was typically the wait for the six thirty in the morning school bus. He lived too far away from school to walk, his parents headed to work right after his breakfast, and thus he had been relegated to standing in the cold, dim dawn air. The plan had been to sneak into the club, have an amazing night and feign sickness... but Chris had felt so energized after coming home and getting dressed that the idea of staying cooped up was impossible to bear. For the first time, he was excited for the bus... though part of it had to do with his outfit.

The yellow bus rounded the corner, lumbering up the street, slowing down as it advanced. Chris stood on a two foot tall stone retaining wall in front of a strip of perfectly matched trees, all growing up straight and narrow. He stood out like a sore thumb in black and red leather, covered in tattoos with painted nails and a mustache. He didn't look like the kind of kid that would bother with school. Chris grinned gently, looking at the doors to the school bus, hoping the driver wouldn't make a scene. The doors hissed and the driver glanced over. For a split second the thirty five year old man looked startled, but as he gazed into those yellow, youthful eyes he relaxed again. A dopey, plain smile crossed his lips.

"Morning." He said politely, as he had every school day for four years. Chris was surprised, though he grinned a bit and moved up the steps, moving down the narrow aisle toward the back. Everything had gone better than expected... The bus started to move even before Chris was seated, forcing him to balance carefully. A hand shot out, gripping a seat. Chris gasped gently as he felt his finger nails puncture the faux leather seat. Yellow eyes followed the sensation and widened in surprise once more.

Chris's painted fingernails were no longer trimmed short. They had grown out longer, but more than that, they had honed into points... The nails were even thicker than before, slightly curved, almost like the claws of a cat or a dog - but they retained a perfect paint job with all the colors of the rainbow. It was yet one more thing Chris didn't know how to accept. Was he going crazy? Had the man slipped him a drug at the club? That had to be it, he was hallucinating... but so far it was a very good trip and Chris decided to roll with it. He pulled his claws out of the seat and moved toward the back of the bus.

There was only one other student on the bus, a young man a few months younger than Chris. He had the wild, shaggy hair of a skater that flowed out from his head in thick waves, reaching his neck in the back. The hair flowed around his head itself perfectly, almost like a hat had held it in place, but Chris had never seen the kid with a hat before. The hair was a light brown and the kid had a good sun tan, almost hints of olive color to it, a good combination.

Chris advanced toward the back as he always had, expecting the kid to be half asleep like usual... but something was different today. The skater sniffed the air, becoming more alert, licking his lips slowly. He looked around uncertainly before he saw Chris and his jaw dropped. Unlike the bus driver, Chris hadn't wished to go unnoticed. He'd been focusing on the skater. The skater gasped and inhaled, almost going limp in his seat. Chris grinned wide and moved past him to the very back.

As Chris passed, the skater turned around in his seat, grabbing onto it with both hands, his jaw still agape. He slowly slid out of his seat and began moving back. Chris expected the driver to yell about being up as the bus moved, but he still seemed unable to see anything out of the ordinary. Chris looked back from the driver to the skater curiously. The skater stood before Chris, practically panting. Chris looked him over, his eyes widening as he saw that the skater's baggy shorts had tented, an erection jutting out before him.

"Hi, uh, can... can I... I mean, would you mind if I sat with you?" The skater asked. Chris was flabbergasted. So few people had ever asked.

"Sure, go right ahead." Chris said softly. The skater looked like he nearly lost a load in excitement, plopping down. He started a few inches away, but he slowly slid over until the two were elbow to elbow. Chris had to admit the feeling of flesh on flesh was nice, the elbow contact. He hadn't gotten a lot of touch in recent years.

"I really like your nails man, they're so unique." The skater murmured. Chris thought about all the times he'd seen the boy with girls, flirting and hitting on them, doing tricks with his board to show off. It seemed strange that he was acting so different.

"You like them? You don't think they're too gay?" Chris asked. The skater shook his head.

"Come on man, its cool to be gay now... But no one does it as good as you." The skater whispered. Chris looked at the skater in surprise. Was he being hit on? Was this flirting? Somewhere deep down he felt an empowered sense of control like he knew he had the situation in hand. That power was infectious.

"Well, maybe not anyone can do it as good as me, but anyone can do it. You ever did anything with a guy?" Chris asked. The skater blushed and looked at the floor.

"Not really, I can't think of anything." He murmured.

"Want to?" Chris asked. The skater looked up as if the heavens themselves had erupted over with bounty. Chris reached down and slowly unzipped his pants, letting the panel go loose. The fabric slipped open and a fat, hard cock popped out. Chris moaned as the cool air hit it, but he felt even more excited to be showing it off to someone. The skater looked in utter awe, panting desperately. As Chris watched him, the teen was unable to prevent a drop of drool from rolling down the side of his chin before he lunged forward. Chris gasped as he felt the pouty skater lips wrap around his cock, taking the head in before sliding down. Chris' hand snapped up, claws tangling in his mane of hair.

Chris began pulling and pushing the kids head up and down, fucking his face, grunting and even growling. He'd never been so forceful or dominate, but it felt so good. The skater sucked desperately, his movements becoming more wild by the moment. As the skater gave in, Chris couldn't help but feel more alive. His heart raced, his brain tingled and his muscles throbbed. Chris bore his fangs as he growled in delight, lifting his hips off the seat.

The tattooed teenager's cock brushed the back of the skater's throat a few times before sliding down in. His esophagus expanded, massaging the intruding shaft. Chris' yellow eyes rolled into the back of his head. He groaned and grunted, growled and moaned, fucking so deep. The kid sucked as if his life depended on it, but something strange was starting to happen. The skater's skin was oily and youthful, but the oils started drying up and the skin took on a bit more tension. The invisible fuzz on his upper lip started to darken, taking on a soft brown color. His hair grew out a few inches and his fingers looked less soft.

At first Chris didn't notice, but slowly the hair felt different beneath his fingers. He looked down, wondering if he was hallucinating that the skater was growing older or maturing before his very eyes... but then he realized that it was something else. The kid's vitality was being drained, his youth was being taken... and Chris could feel it flowing into him. He groaned sharply as his cock began expanding, stretching longer inch by inch down the kid's throat. Chris's back rippled as muscles expanded and a strange pressure began filling on his forehead.

Chris groaned more, his fangs elongating, his tongue stretching. The tattoos that covered his arms almost sparkled as they began spreading out like liquid ink onto his chest, the swirls and shapes imprinting over more of his body. Chris felt like he couldn't take anymore, but it was the skater that came first. A scream of orgasm was suppressed by the cock in his throat, simply becoming vibrations before the kid's baggy pants began dripping with sperm, the milky white falling to the bus floor.

The changing teenager was next to come, throwing his head back, hissing as he came. Thick, potent, hot squirts of semen sprayed through his cock and into the skater's throat, pumping right down into his stomach. There were a few huge sprays, then a steady stream before it died away. Chris went limp on the bus seat, panting hard, but he used his clawed hand to slowly pull the skater off.

As the skater's mouth popped free, Chris saw not the face of the skater, but some strange fusion... A mix of human and animal. In this case, a lion. The teenager's upper lip was split, his nose was soft and pink, brownish fuzz covered his face and the mane covered his entire jaw line. The skater gave a soft snarl before his face seemed to revert back to one of a nineteen or twenty year old with a peach fuzz mustache and even longer hair. Chris gazed at the boy he had taken two years from with shock, awe, and a strange sense of empowerment. The skater simply gazed back with adoration, licking his lips, looking ready for more should his master request.

****

Step by step, booted feet strode through the halls. Chris's amber eyes gazed outward, meeting with everyone he passed. Stepping off the bus had been surreal. It had been as if he had arrived on a red carpet. Students turned and looked at him without even being clued into the fact that he was there. Some murmured about his outfit, others were struck in silence. It was as if they were seeing him for the first time.

Chris was bemused by the attention being positive for once and had continued inside, feeling the effect compound dramatically. When he met eyes with the students, it was almost as if he could hear the whispers of their minds in his. They loved his hair, his cheek bones, how thin he was. When he met eyes with the teachers, there was more conflict. They too were drawn to him, but fought their feelings. Chris made it easier on them, willing them to see him as just another student. Their muscles relaxed, the longing faded from their eyes, but the smiles remained on their lips.

"Good morning Chris!" came an energetic greeting from Mrs. Doughtey as he passed. Chris had to supress a giggle, making his way to the stairs in the new wing of the school. Mrs. Doughtey was a hard core conventional Christian and had never approved of his lifestyle, but now she was as cheery toward him as anyone. It was becoming clear it wasn't a hallucination anymore. Something had happened, something was changing inside him... and it was marvelous.

Chris approached his chemistry class, trailing his fingers along the lockers, the rainbow colored nails slicing into the paint as he moved. Boys and girls of all ages were whispering all around him, but Chris could hear them all with his faintly pointed ears. They were all impressed with him. Chris smirked at that, feeling as if the heavens had opened up for him. There was so much potential now, so many chances... but Chris's jubilation was interupted by a dark tremmor in his mind, a darkness, a resistance. Chris looked up ahead, meeting eyes with Alan once more where he stood by the bathroom. Chris had caught the senior's gaze in his periphery and had failed to ensnare him, the man that had caused him so much torment.

"Alan..." Chris whispered. He had put up with a lot of torment for being gay. He had made wiggle room for himself, forced begrudging acceptance in many, but Alan had always been the hardest to sway, impossible to appease. Chris glanced at the clock. He was running out of time. He reached over and eased the door open to the chemistry classroom. His presence leaked into the room like warm sunrays. Students started looking more relaxed, boys and girls looking to him with intrigue.

"Chris..." The instructor murmured, his eyes widening. He saw the youth's tattoos, claws, everything. Chris met eyes with the teacher, letting him forget the impact and relax.

"I'm not feeling well, would it be all right if I was a few minutes late?" Chris asked. The teacher's eyes almost started to glisten with sorrow.

"Chris, I'm so sorry you're not feeling well... By all means, take whatever time you need. If you like, I can hold the lecture until you're feeling better. I wouldn't want you to miss out..." he said softly. Chris grinned a bit at that.

"No worries sir, perhaps a private lesson after school?" he asked. The instructor blushed and nodded eagerly.

"Anything you want Chris..." he whispered. Chris grinned wider at that. It felt like he was the king of the world. Chris stepped back out of the classroom, nearly knocking Alan over. The blond skidded back on his heels, avoiding touching his gay classmate, a general look of repulsion crossing his face before Chris met eyes with him directly. Alan's muscles tensed as if Chris had reached into his chest and grabbed him by the heart, squeezing it.

Alan struggled at the gaze, feeling a sea of conflicting emotions. He could feel Chris's body heat and wanted to touch his skin. He could smell a spicy, minty scent lingering around his classmate that he wanted to sniff. Alan wanted to be with Chris, to touch him, but that very thought sent such waves of repulsion through his body that he recoiled even further. Chris said nothing at first, merely maintaining eye contact, watching how everything was unfolding.

"Can I get passed? I have to get to class..." Alan murmured, trying to look away. His blue eyes went to the floor, but slowly came back up. He looked at Chris's chin, his ears, his nose, eyes darting around before sinking back into the yellow gaze of the man before him. Chris grinned mischiviously.

"No you don't, you have to get to the bathroom. You can't help yourself... Your cock is getting half hard just trying to keep it in, isn't it?" Chris asked. Alan groaned softly as his bladder began to ache and throb like it was over extended, his cock stiffening and snaking down his pant leg as a natural response to keep it all in.

"Shit!" Alan groaned, feeling like he couldn't hold it anymore. He spun on his heel and ran for the bathroom as the bell chimed. The hallways cleared, emptying out, save for Chris and Alan. Alan darted into the bathroom and moved for a urinal, trying to piss as if his life depended on it, but as he tried, nothing came out. While Chris had planted the suggestion, his bladder was still quite empty. The bathroom door opened behind Alan as Chris entered. Alan glanced over before groaning. "Come on man, can't you see I'm trying to take a leak?" Alan groaned. Chris came up behind him, reaching around to place a hand on his stomach.

Alan hissed, about ready to punch the fag, but as that hand touched his stomach, he shivered with a strange sensation. He wondered how long it had been since he touched another person's skin, let alone a hand so soft and fair. He panted gently, muscles tensing more, breathing increasing. Chris leaned in, a pointed, long tongue sliding past his lips to slither along Alan's ear.

"We both know that you don't have to go pee, you just came in here to wank yourself off... To relieve that pressure you feel when I'm around, that pressure to remain straight and deny yourself such pleasure. But I know your secret, I know that you're really gay." Chris whispered. Alan groaned more, his cock fattening up more in his hand as he snapped his eyes shut.

"No, I'm... I'm not..." Alan whispered. Chris grinned, rubbing his clawed hand up and down, sliding it up Alan's shirt to circle a nipple with his claw.

"Hiding in the hall rather than having me as a lab partner? Spending so much time slipping hate notes into my letter? You can't stop thinking about me... And what about all that porn you look at? Spending hours and hours with photographed women, but none of it does anything for you. You've been deluding yourself... Hiding what you really are from the world." Chris said. Alan's breath shuddered.

"What... am I?" Alan whimpered.

"A gay pig slut..." Chris replied. Alan's back arched as the information ripped through his body. His eyes snapped back open, but the crystal blue eyes seemed almost muddied, the blue turning steadily darker to brown. He slowly turned to face Chris, looking at the man before him, the man he had hated so much... and the man he wanted to please now. Alan knelt down onto his knees before Chris, leaning in to nuzzle at his groin, looking up at the man.

"Please, sir, let me... let me taste you... Fuck my face..." Alan groaned, rubbing at himself lewdly, "I've wanted it for so long, I just didn't know how to explain it to anyone, but I don't care anymore. I need you!"

'You'll have men kneeling before you in no time, begging for you...' came the echo of memory. Chris hadn't remembered the strange man at the bar saying that, but he'd been drunk at the time. Had that been what everything was leading toward? Was this the moment? He looked at Alan kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor, begging for him, needing him. Chris reached down, sliding a claw into the zipper of his pants before he opened it up. His massive, heavy, super thick cock flopped out, going rigid before Alan.

Somewhere in the depths of the blond, he remembered being straight. Buzzed short hair, sun burned neck, darkened freckles and a gray sleeveless shirt. He was an all American boy, a typical guy. He didn't know how to suck cock, but his urges were too strong. He leaned forward, running a tongue along the meat before him. He groaned deeper at that, tasting such sinful musk. It was like sweat and sex and cinnamon. He lapped at it before sucking on the head, bobbing forward and back, taking it in and out.

Chris reached out, grabbing onto a stall door, panting hard. It felt as if Alan was pumping energy in and out of his cock, like it was being siphoned out of the blond and into him. Chris inhaled sharply. It was so much stronger than with the skater. Breaking Alan, corroding his will and resolve, it seemed to make it even sweeter. He groaned louder, thrusting his cock into the blond's mouth. Alan's cheeks bulged, the cock hitting one side and then the other before the cock hit the back of his throat.

Alan nearly gagged, but as a soft, hot sap began leaking out of Chris's cock, Alan's throat relaxed and the cock began sliding deeper. Alan's lips were already stretched as it was, his jaw maxed out around the thick meat. He sucked and slurped, drooling, his own cock aching and growing harder. One clawed hand reached out, grabbing Alan's head. As the fingers curved along his skull, the painted claws began growing out longer, becoming more dangerous... and Chris could feel it.

The teenager's entire body was on fire, fueled by the tempest he'd unleashed in Alan. His muscles ached, his bones throbbed, his heart burned and his brain tingled. Chris groaned sharply, his eyes starting to glow yellow. His hips moved so fast they were practically blurs, using Alan's throat as a fuck sleeve, but all that motion was leading to changes elsewhere. Chris nearly doubled over as the muscles in his back started to shift and twitch, moving in uneven and odd ways.

Chris's leather vest shifted and moved as his muscles changed beneath the surface, like manta rays swimming in the surf. There were pops and shifts of bone and cartilage, and soon the flesh itself began to warp. The seams of the vest were tested, but the middle rectangular panel got the most work out. Soon tan flesh was pushing out like the leather of a car seat, tough but flexible, moving around. Chris nearly gasped outward, feeling lopsided. The mass oozing out of the slot had to be at least ten pounds of changing skin. It began to stretch, revealing that there were indeed bones inside and that they were unfolding.

The flesh darkened, turning from tan to brown and then a grayish tone, stretching out like a sail as the bones shifted. Chris used all his muscles to stay upright as one entire wing opened up, but soon the gap in the back of the vest was stretched wider as another mass erupted from Chris's back. The growing weight balanced him better, bringing him back to center. The wing flapped open, scraping across a mirror and one of the toilet stalls. His wingspan was immense, especially as the wings fluttered in a sexual high.

Sweat rolled down Chris's cheeks as he felt his wings, extensions of his very being. They moved based on his thoughts, his feelings... and he felt amazing. He could feel Alan's life force, his strength, his vitality right there. Chris groaned, his hand tightening, his claws pricking Alan's head. As the claws dug into Alan's scalp, what seemed like ink began leaking out of the claws, disappearing into Alan's blood stream. At once, his motions began changing.

A hand whipped to the blond's cock, wrapping around it, jerking off quickly. His sucks and slurps became wilder, his body posture failing slowly. Words Chris had uttered continued repeated in his head. Alan thought about what he was, what he had always been. He started sucking off harder, ramming his face into Chris's crotch, burying his nose in that bush. He rammed so hard, his nose got squished up against his face, but after a few rams of his head, the nose stayed upright, tilting up, exposing his nostrils.

Chris felt it hard to contain himself, but he felt even more shocked as he felt the hard, slick feeling of teeth sliding out along the edge of his cock. He looked down in confusion, gasping as he saw what was happening to Alan. The red neck's mouth was pried wide from the size of the cock, but his lips were expanded even more to make room for emerging tusks, sticking out on either side of the cock.

Snorts and slurps became louder as the civility of Alan's life drained from his eyes. He was nothing but a gay pig after all. He rammed his flat ursine nose into the groin, a tongue slapping all over the demonic cock in his mouth, his own cock growing fatter and wider in his hand. Alan's nails grew darker and began to grow rougher as his toes ached and throbbed in his shoes. Even his pants began to sag as his ass grew a little bigger, his tailbone pushing out and twisting into a corkscrew shape.

Chris was amazed and shocked at what was going on. He'd seen the glimpse of the lion in the skater and he knew he could bring that out more, but it seemed Alan was becoming the horny animal he had always been meant to be... And Chris knew he was becoming something more as well. Chris was nearly delirious with pleasure and pain as his wings began burning, the gray leathery expansions darkening as the tattoos from his arms spread out across them. He groaned louder and louder, hissing as his pointed ears stung.

The piercings that had been for his diamond studs were growing larger, the holes widening and filling with larger plates of black material. The plates shimmered as silver alpha and omega symbols appeared in them, matching his painted claws. Chris' mouth hung open, his tongue tingling before the tip began splitting into a fork, tasting the air much as a snake might. He was in rapture, in delight, and he had reached climax.

There was a visible bulge moving up his huge shaft before salty, yellowed demon cum erupted down Alan's throat. Alan sucked and slurped, his ears taking on a more piggish appearance as he guzzled it down, but Chris's change wasn't over. The orgasm came to a peak in his head, the burning moving outward. He'd had a headache since he put the cock ring on, small bumps forming on his head, but now those bumps grew dramatically larger. The skin couldn't keep it all back and the irritated flesh parted, letting black nubs push out, growing razor sharp as they curved and emerged.

Demonic horns pushed out of Chris's skull, growing at impressive speed, slowing down as they arched forward and up before coming to a stop. Chris tried to breathe but another change made him arch his back forward, his ass cheeks pushing apart as his tailbone shot outward like a spear, whipping around before a spaded tip formed at the end. With that, his orgasm only intensified, pumping it into Alan faster and faster.

Beneath Chris's claws, Alan's blond hair got rough and bushy down the center into a messy mohawk, making him look far grungier. Even his cheeks got fuzzy as his three fingered hand worked his fat cock. He had become a gay pig, his humanity drained away to finish Chris's transformation, and Chris finally understood what he had become... he was an incubus, a demon of sex and perversion feeding off of the orgasm and life force of others... and Chris was okay with that.

He slowly pulled back from Alan's throat, watching as twelve inches of cock emerged, then fourteen, then sixteen before the pointed tip popped out. He was still hard. He would likely remain hard forever, but thankfully his pants had plenty of room in the crotch. Chris stood there, looking at his reflection. His black horns, brown hair, his hipster mustache and piercings and tattoos... He was one damn fine demon. Chris licked his fangs gently and looked back at Alan before chuckling.

"I bet you're not going to resist being my lab partner now, are you?" Chris grinned. Alan shook his head now before nuzzling Chris's leg affectionately, never wanting to be apart again. Chris's yellow eyes drifted back to the door, wondering just what sort of day awaited him... and how many men he could bend to his will.