And let your arrow go

by screamingmoist   

A young man gets more attention from Cupid than he ever wanted.

“This is… this is just a dream,” Dylan stammered. The young man’s impressive triceps flexed as he propped himself upright in bed, his fingers clenching the worn sheet beneath him. His short, raven hair was mussed from the slumber he may or may not still have been partaking of while his heart thundered against his solid chest. Dylan certainly felt like he was awake. There was nothing surreal or dreamlike about the familiar, perfectly rendered bedroom around him, but only a nightmare could explain the horrid figure hovering at the foot of his bed. The thing was a constantly shifting mass of limbs, appendages and orifices, sometimes appearing humanoid, though never for long. Whenever it did briefly resemble a human the proportions and anatomy were never entirely correct, often blending attributes of both sexes before morphing into something entirely unrecognizable. Dylan watched it shift between gaseous, insectoid, ephemeral, amphibian, and everything size and shape in between, wishing the whole time that he had something on other than a pair of plaid, threadbare boxers. Normally he liked the way the low-riding elastic showed off his tight, shredded waist, and how his meaty equipment was prominently outlined against the thin material while it strained around his powerful thighs, but normally there wasn’t a hideous monster gazing down at him, either.

The only constant was the thing’s smooth tenor. “Just a dream? Do you have any idea how much time you spend here? How much time you could spend here? People live out entire lives in ‘just’ a dream,” the creature said, cocking its head with a slight grin on the occasions when it possessed both of those features.

Dylan took a deep breath, trying in vain to will himself awake. He’d heard about lucid dreams before but had never actually experienced one, and even then he doubted this fit the criteria. While vivid and realistic, the last thing he felt he had was control over the situation. Already the thing had made his covers disappear without warning, and Dylan didn’t like the way it kept looking at him. “What…who…are you,” he finally managed to ask, slowly scooting back against his headboard to put as much distance as he could between them.

The thing chuckled. “Don’t you recognize your competition? Would it help if I took a more familiar form?”

Dylan gasped when the shifting mass shrank and settled, the nauseating menagerie cementing itself as a small, winged cherub hovering at his feet. The chunky figure had curly, golden hair and was clad only in a sheer band of shimmering cloth that draped over its shoulders, covering nothing, while it held a small bow and arrow in one hand. “Hold on. You’re telling me you’re… Cupid,” he asked with a short laugh.

The now-angelic little man bowed. “The closest name in your tongue is Ku’u Pid, technically. But sure, we can go with the one that sells candy.”

Dylan’s fear began to fade, replaced by a smug amusement. “Nice to meet you, man. Big fan of your work. Soooo…what can I do for you? I don’t really need any help in the love department,” he laughed, folding his sculpted arms behind his head.

“So I heard,” Cupid said, his big, sparkling eyes narrowing. “What was it you called yourself while defacing my image? The ‘real’ sex god?”

Dylan’s arrogant grin fell, the fading fear reversing course to creep back up his spine. He’d been out drinking with Billy and Levi the night before when they’d come across the papier mache Cupid hanging from a tree on their way home. Being both fed up with Valentine’s Day drunk and more than a little intoxicated, the dark-haired jock ripped it down, proclaiming himself to the be the true sex god while humping the effigy. He’d then promptly thrown it on the ground and smashed it with his foot while voicing his frustration over striking out with the blonde he’d been eyeing all night. It actually was a rare occurrence for the chiseled ladies’ man, and he took the unexpected appearance of his rival-slash-patron as a convenient excuse to air his grievances. He never thought he’d have a chance to do so face-to-face. “Oh! Uh, look man, about that…I’m sorry, bro. We’d been drinking and I was super pissed that what’s-her-face led me around by my dick all night and I just…I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” Dylan said, laughing slightly at how serious he was treating the ridiculous dream scenario.

Cupid waved a dismissive hand. “No need to apologize. I’m actually quite glad you got my attention. I’ve looked over your own body of work and it’s not bad,” the tiny, towheaded man said. “I wouldn’t call it ‘godlike’ quite yet, but you’re what, twenty four? Plenty of time to expand those horizons.”

The swell of pride Dylan felt was quickly tempered by another rush of anxiety. “Expand…?”

“You can’t very well be a Real Sex God if you just keep doing the same thing, and people, over and over again. You’re off to a good start, I’ll admit. Not just quantity, either. Plenty of verifiably satisfied women in your wake, which I understand is something of a rarity for virile young studs like yourself. But still only half of the equation.” Cupid jerked his head back towards Dylan’s door, the implication slow in sinking in.

The raven-haired jock blushed, then quickly shook his head when he realized the winged, ruddy little man was talking about Levi slumbering across the hall. “Nah. I…I think I’m good on that, actually.”

“And that’s what we’re here to change,” Cupid said with a cheerful clap.

“No, really, I’m solid with the way things…”

Dylan’s stammering was cut off, Cupid’s voice now impossibly deep for his tiny frame. “Do not forget with whom you speak. Despite how you may currently perceive me, you sit in the presence of multiversal lust personified. I am every blissful moan and broken heart that ever was or will be, on this world and all others. Gladness notwithstanding, you have my attention, Dylan, and all the lovely burdens that come with it.”

“Please, sir, I’m really sorry to have bothered you, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding…” the young hunk croaked, unable to hold back a wave of trembling.

Cupid smiled, his tone once again smooth and gentle. “And through love will come an understanding. You don’t need to be afraid of such enlightenment, Dylan. Though you’ll undoubtedly experience fear, and insecurity, and dread, and humiliation, I am, above all, a god of love. You’re in good hands.” Cupid pursed his lips and cocked his head again as he eyed the anxious jock, motioning to his own hovering frame. “But if you want to be a ‘real’ sex god you’ll have to look the part.”

“No, wait, I…” Dylan didn’t get a chance to finish. With a wave of Cupid’s tiny hand, his whole body began to tingle and change. The worn boxers disappeared in an instant, which gave the stunned jock a chance to watch as his girthy package began to shrink and dwindle while the muscled thighs on either side did the same. It was a pattern that repeated itself across his entire, shifting frame as hard-earned definition vanished and firm muscle softened. Even the light dusting of raven hair vanished, taking his olive hue with it and leaving him a soft, ruddy pink, entirely smooth from the eyebrows down. “What did you just do to me?” he cried, his eyes going wide when he hopped to his feet and saw his altered body. Instead of hard and tapering he was thick and supple, his formerly chiseled pecs now a pair of soft, barely present mounds above a washboard that had inflated to a pinchable belly. On either side, piston arms had become slight and slender, hanging off shoulders that were nowhere near as broad, and above, Dylan’s strong jaw had softened to a slight double chin, taking his prominent cheekbones with it. Worse, though, was the tiny nub and petite balls where his hefty equipment should have been. “What did you…this…this isn’t real…this can’t be real…” he stammered, running a hand through his shaggy, golden hair. “I…I can’t…”

His fear getting the better of him, Dylan darted for the door, wincing as his fattened cheeks bounced with each bounding step. He threw it open and bolted through so fast that he’d crossed the threshold before realizing that it wasn’t a familiar hallway he stumbled into, but a bustling locker room. He whirled around as soon as his surroundings registered but there was no longer any door to be seen, only a musky room filled with naked men of all shapes and sizes.

Dylan heard himself whimper when the unexpected pulse shot through him. His nub of a cock went rock hard, but instead of covering himself his dainty new hands just dangled at his sides as he stared in helpless fascination at the men around him. Having spent most of his life either playing sports or simply working out for fun, it should have been far from an unfamiliar sight. In the moment, though, Dylan had never seen anything like it. Tapering and chiseled, thick and hairy, long and lean, short and stocky, young, old, heavy, bald; none of it mattered. Each one was a shining beacon of lust, their arrogant grins only adding to Dylan’s confusing arousal as they slowly turned to gawk at him.

“What’s up, little guy? See something you like?” One of them, a bald bull of a man with slabs of ample muscle covering his broad, beefy frame, stepped forward, his massive cock swaying like a pendulum. Dylan hadn’t actually shrank down to Cupid’s height, but he eventually realized that wasn’t what the man was referencing when a meaty hand reached out and swallowed his tiny new package.

“Oh!” Dylan gasped and thrust his hips into the man’s palm on instinct, his own shrunken hands reaching up to the shelf of a chest. The man would have been bigger than him even in his old body, but now he seemed absolutely hulking. “I…oh fuck…this is so con…fusing…” he stammered. “Where am I?”

The man ignored his question, addressing the others instead. “Little guy likes it,” he grunted. The men began to close in on cue, leaving Dylan surrounded by a crowd of naked studs. A part of his brain screamed at him to try and flee, but he was too overcome by the new attractions coursing through him to listen. He didn’t want to run away, not entirely. The men seemed to be laughing at him, but they weren’t scary, only incredibly arousing. Their rough, calloused hands seemed massive, their bodies so hard while his was so soft. The rigid cocks pressing into him and filling his hands were colossal compared to his own, but already the shrunken equipment was an afterthought. Despite how ridiculous he felt humping into one meaty paw after another the sensation was no less pleasurable, and Dylan began to drift off on the sea of sweat, musk and muscle that pressed in on him. Instead of tearing away when he felt the first man slip inside he threw his fattened ass back without the slightest hesitation, working the man in as deep as he could. One by one they took him. He was slammed up against the wall of the showers, prone on a bench with his legs in the air, bent over against a counter, on all fours on the floor; every surface and every position was tried. Dylan knew it should have been a nightmare, but he loved every, unending second of it. He had no sense of how long he’d been there. It could have been minutes or days, his perception of time limited to the responses surging through his twinkish frame. He didn’t want it to end. The men were rough but not cruel, arrogant but kind, making it clear that they were in charge while still keeping him safe. Far from being terrifying, that sense of powerlessness and giving himself over was a turn on the likes of which Dylan had never felt before.

“Wha…!” He jerked and spasmed when the scene shifted without warning and he once again found himself back on his bed. The men and locker room had vanished, along with the sticky, head-to-toe coating he’d acquired, and he was back in his unaltered, athletic frame. He was still naked, his cock throbbing painfully as if he hadn’t cum in months. “Ffffuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned, the aching need for release hitting him like a punch in the gut. “What…what the hell was that?!”

“A taste,” Cupid shrugged. “Still not interested in the other half?”

“But that’s…that’s only because you made me feel that way,” Dylan protested.

The winged little man shook his head. “I didn’t make you feel anything. I only opened a door. Actually, you technically opened the door and then ran through it. Things in dreams can get muddy and metaphorical, but the point remains. And just because you enjoyed those men doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy women, yes?” He waited while Dylan thought about it, the young man’s stricken expression eventually softening when he felt his cock throbbing in response to his more customary fantasies. “See? Nothing was taken, only given.”

“Except for the part where you took my body,” Dylan spat. “Why make me look like that?”

“Didn’t you enjoy it? The contrast? All that big, hard muscle lording over your soft, small body? The way it felt in your hands? The hair rubbing against your smooth skin?” Cupid grinned when Dylan’s cock began to ooze at the mere memory. “You seemed very distraught at the loss, though. Is it because this one gives you a sense of power?”

“No, I’ve just worked…” As soon as Dylan said that last word the scene shifted again, this time into more traditional nightmare territory. Without warning, the young stud found himself standing naked and hard in the middle of a packed boardroom at his office. A series of shocked gasps rang out as he was still processing the shift in location, the vividness of the dream making him question whether or not he was still sleeping at all.

“Dylan! What the fuck, man?!” His coworker John, a heavyset, middle aged manager gawked at him as everyone turned to look in his direction. A loud murmur rippled off through the crowd, and one-by-one the blushing hunk saw faces begin to peer in through the boardroom windows.

“Young man! This is entirely inappropriate! You’re fired! Do you hear me? Cover yourself up and get out of here!” Dylan turned to see his purple-faced boss glaring at him from the far end of the table, but instead of covering himself or turning to leave, the naked jock began pumping away with one hand while kneading a sculpted pec with the other. Dylan wanted to crawl under a rock and hide when he saw the horrified expressions and heard the shocked exclamations, only his body had other ideas. Still eagerly tugging away on himself he stepped forward and climbed up onto the table, flashing his ample rear and eager hole while he slowly crawled to the center. Once there he rolled over onto his back and proceeded to writhe and moan in an exuberant display, furiously working his oozing cock and groping every inch of his exposed flesh. When he finally came the eruption was a sticky geyser that shot straight towards the ceiling before spattering back down all over him and the nearby table, splashing onto several stunned coworkers in the process.

It wasn’t until he’d stopped spraying and started to soften that agency returned to him. His cum-covered pecs still heaving, Dylan finally realized that he could move and talk as he pleased. He was also painfully aware that he was still naked and sticky in front of everyone. “Oh…oh god. I’m…I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help! I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” he sputtered as he frantically scurried for the edge of the table. He didn’t know what was worse, crawling on all fours and exposing his hole again or scooting forward on his ass and dragging his heavy balls across the table. He opted for the latter, the whole time feeling the copious fluid spilling down his torso.

“Why apologize?”

Dylan whirled when his feet hit the ground, once again back in his bedroom. He was still sticky with cum, his stomach churning from embarrassment. “Why apologize?! That was my work! I can’t just roll in there and start jerking off in front of everyone!”

Cupid crossed his arms as he hovered. “But you had your body back. I believe you started to say earlier that you ‘worked hard for it’, so why would you ever apologize for letting others see the fruits of your labor? Did having it back bring you a sense of power just now?”

“No! And I apologized because it’s not always appropriate! Look, a locker room orgy is still fucked up, but the office definitely isn’t a ‘get naked’ zone! If I do that for real I’ll lose my job, and probably end up in jail,” Dylan sighed.

“Those that serve a higher power don’t have ‘jobs.’ They have callings. Gods don’t go to ‘work,’ they fulfill a sacred duty. Deep down, you loved that. You loved every second of those people watching you. Your limited perspective is preventing you from fully realizing that, but if we put that on pause for a moment…” Dylan gasped as his embarrassment became an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. The mortified dread he’d felt at the thought of people watching what he’d just done disappeared entirely, leaving only a contented thrill. “See? This is how you could feel if you followed your true calling instead of wasting your time in such a limiting environment. As I hope you’re learning, it’s not about your body or how you look. You enjoyed the men in that locker room without all your muscle just as much as you secretly loved showing it off when you had it back. You’ve been given a gift, and it has nothing to do with how your body appears but rather what you choose to do with it.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say. His head was still spinning from the sudden absence of his humiliation. “So I’m supposed to, what? Become a stripper? Start a website?”

Cupid shrugged. “I have entire temples dedicated to my worship on other worlds. Throngs of followers who devote themselves to my calling. Sacred Priests who use every inch of themselves to impart my gifts and wisdom to those who seek them out. I think an OnlyFriends would be the bare minimum here, but don’t let me judge your process.”

“But that’s…I’m not one of those people,” Dylan protested, even as his stomach fluttered at the thought.

“Which is what we’re working on. This is just a dream, remember? We have all the time we need. And we’ll have it again tomorrow night. And the night after. And the night after that. And every night until you won’t be able to tell what’s a dream and what’s real anymore.” Cupid floated over and stroked a hand through Dylan’s hair when the young stud dropped onto the edge of his bed, a shocked expression on his face. “Unless of course you’d like to become an active participant in this awakening, which would likely make for a smoother process.” The sticky jock came again just from the tiny figure’s touch, the slightest caress of a god enough to push him well over the edge. “Sorry about that. I forget my own strength.”

Dylan just blinked in a daze. “What do I have to do,” he finally asked, feeling the world as he knew it slipping from his grasp. The lingering scraps of denial, his rational brain’s insistence that this was all just a dream, went with it, leaving him to wrestle with the full weight of his situation. He actually had managed to get the attention of a god of lust and his life would never be the same. The only question left was whether or not that was a bad thing.

“Whatever you want. I’d recommend starting with some practice. Fortunately for you, this space…just a dream…is one of my gifts. While others flounder helplessly in their nocturnal currents you can use yours to hone your skills. Follow me.” Dylan watched Cupid’s eyes flash before the floating man turned and hovered to the door. He got up and followed behind, bracing himself for the worst when it opened, but seeing only the familiar hallway.

The shock came when Levi’s door opened. His blonde roommate was sitting naked on the edge of his bed, his head fallen back on his broad shoulders while Dylan saw himself bare and kneeling in front of the other man, swallowing Levi’s fat log almost to the base. “What…what am I looking at,” he asked, his cock throbbing at the sight. Unlike his own shredded frame, his friend had let himself go since his younger days of varsity sports, now carrying around a thick, meaty layer on top of his muscular foundation. Dylan had always viewed Levi’s paunch, and his own lack of it, as a marker of his superiority over the other man, but now it filled him with a burning desire.

“A shared dream,” Cupid said. “This one you’re looking at is a parting gift to get you started. You can limit your dreams to simple fantasies with anyone, or anything, you choose to refine your craft. Or, with some practice, you can pull in a partner or partners as you see fit. Now, they have to be willing. You can’t just start pulling in people at random, that’s what the other dreams are for. These have some spillover into the waking world, so it’s a bit more involved. Though they don’t know it’s anything other than an ordinary dream at the time, your partners here will start to carry that desire with them. After a few evenings, well,” Cupid grinned and trailed off. “It seems Levi is open to the idea of a dream where you spend the night on your knees. Who knows where things will lead? But for now it’s a start.”

The ground dropped out from under him before Dylan could respond. He was hit with a sudden falling sensation, followed by a panicked choking before he realized where he was and what was in his mouth. His fingers gently squeezed Levi’s chunky thighs as he bobbed his head and wrapped his tongue around the warm, throbbing cock, his nostrils blissfully full of the other man’s musky scent. For a split second his instinct was to pull away until he realized it wasn’t an instinct at all, but the expectation of one. What he actually felt in the moment was an eager excitement and a desire to learn. He raised his eyes, his stomach fluttering as he looked up past Levi’s gut and beefy chest to see his friend’s expression of ecstasy.

It all felt shockingly right. The thought of himself on his knees, using his body to bring such joy to someone else filled Dylan with a sense of purpose. His act of worship was only heightened by the fact that the other man was his friend, someone he already loved deeply though he’d never actually said the words. It all felt so foolish. As he bobbed his head and drank in the sound of his friend’s gentle whimpers, Dylan started to regret every second he’d wasted trying to fill the macho role that had been put on him. It wasn’t that he shouldn’t like sports or women or being active, but that he’d only ever let himself connect with other men through the veneer of competition or submission and dominance. They were all just people, and beautiful, and they should be together in a sacred union.

Dylan started to understand. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away, but Cupid was nowhere to be seen. He could still feel the deity’s presence within him, a reminder that it was now his job to bring people together in that union. And through him, they could experience a piece of the enlightenment that he’d been given. Or, at the very least, relieve some tension. Either way, Dylan knew he was providing a needed service.

“Ohhhhhh fuck this is a weird dream,” Levi laughed, reaching down to stroke a hand through his friend’s hair. “Can’t wait to see the look on Dylan’s face when I tell him he spent the night with my dick in his mouth. Eh, then again he’d probably just give me shit about it.”

Dylan pulled his face away and gave the underside of Levi’s cock a long, slow lick. “You might be surprised,” he said, swallowing his friend once again.

“MMMmmm…” Dylan purred and stretched like a cat, loving how it felt to wake up nestled against Levi’s beefy frame. His friend’s rigid cock dug against his lower back, a pleasant reminder of how they’d spent the previous evening. Just as Cupid had said, after only a pair of shared dreams Dylan found Levi’s cock in his mouth for real, and in the weeks since they’d quickly moved on to more involved proceedings. He rolled over so he could look at the other man’s slumbering face, managing only a few moments before the blonde’s eyes fluttered open.

“It’s so creepy when you do that,” Levi mumbled with a sleepy grin.

“What? I like looking at you,” Dylan said, his voice entirely innocent.

“That’s still creepy too,” the beefy blonde laughed, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Dylan gave one of Levi’s plump pecs a squeeze. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw things the way I did. Good morning, by the way,” he grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss. His friend blushed and pulled away at the last minute, letting his lips connect with a stubbled cheek instead. “I know, I know,” Dylan chuckled, rolling his eyes. “The kissing is still embarrassing…but you know I can’t help my…” He was cut off when Levi turned and planted a quick peck that melted into a prolonged meeting of tongues.

The bigger man’s face was crimson when he finally broke it off. “Fuck…weird enough waking up in bed naked with a dude, but now you’ve got me making out with one too.”

“Nothing weird about being with the people you love,” Dylan reminded him as he ran a hand down the center of his friend’s wide midsection.

“No, see, that only makes it weirder,” Levi said, searching his friend’s expression. “Are you sure you didn’t get hit in the head? Or finally drown part of your brain with booze? I mean, bro, in the last two months you’ve quit your job, started stripping all over town, completely hookered your wardrobe, and set up a fucking fuck site for fuck’s sake. And started fucking dudes. And, somehow, all of that still isn’t as weird as this hippy, kumbaya bullshit. What happened to the douchebag I grew up with?”

“People learn. People change,” Dylan said, wrapping a hand around his friend’s squat, solid cock. “Why? Did you prefer that version?”

“Oh fuck no,” Levi grinned. “I’m not complaining. I love you man, I’m just trying to understand.”

“Honestly? Me too,” Dylan shrugged. Levi’s reaction wasn’t an uncommon one. In the days following his meeting with Cupid, the dark-haired hunk really had openly, and drastically, changed his life. Instead of trying to hide or keep secret his shifting interests he’d broadcasted them far and wide, as if hiding or inhibiting himself was an ability he no longer possessed. He’d lost a few friends in the process but he’d gained even more, and those people who’d known him longest all commented that they’d never seen him happier, and had never been happier to be around him. His laidback positivity was infectious, and even those who didn’t take advantage of his almost universal willingness still felt better whenever they were around him. Not that there were many people in that latter camp. Given how little Dylan wore anymore, and how revealing his clothing had become, he practically had a waitlist of interested individuals.

And those individuals came in all shapes and sizes from every aspect of his life, some having been participants in a shared dream while others were people he’d simply met at the gym one day. Like Cupid said, Dylan had been using his dreams to quickly become a pro with his body, adopting a new set of skills with what appeared from the outside to be supernatural speed. In a matter of days he’d gone from never having fooled around with a man to knowing how to play one like an instrument, his own body adapting in kind.

Lately he’d taken to experimenting with new variations of his own body in the dreams. Like that first trip Cupid had sent him on to the locker room, he stripped himself of muscle, packed on pudgy pounds, was excessively tall and excessively short, had more muscle than he knew what to do with, was overly hung, had a pussy, had no limbs, and everything in between. It wasn’t that he wanted to change his own body, but that he wanted to be more empathic and familiar with everyone else’s. His desires were no longer limited by gender, appearance or able bodies, and he needed to know how to serve them all.

“Still, not going to complain about how much money you’re making. Damn,” Levi sighed, slipping a burly arm under Dylan’s head while his friend continued to slowly tug away. “My head’s getting cropped out of the video from last night before you post it though, right?”

“Of course.” Dylan had filmed their prolonged and vigorous romp the night before as his friend had taken him in just about every position physically possible. “But I don’t know why you’d ever want to hide this,” he said, giving Levi another quick peck on the cheek.

The blonde blushed, flustered. “Goddamnit…I know how smooth you are and it still gets me,” he laughed. “Maybe someday. Not all of us are so eager to be known for this so…sort of thing,” he said, stuttering when he felt himself being drawn near the edge.

“But you’re so cute when you cum,” Dylan purred, his words pushing the other man over. He bent down and pressed their lips together as Levi sprayed, swallowing each of his friend’s whimpering gasps. He wanted to keep going, but there were things that needed to get done. The other man would finish him off when they took a shower in a few minutes, and after that he had videos to post, then a go-go shift at the Lanai. He didn’t mind the afternoon shift; less people just meant more attention from the ones who were there. Nothing was planned after that, but Dylan knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

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