My idol

By Cris Kane 
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I knew it was against the rules to remove anything from the archaeology department, but this strange stone idol spoke to me.

Literally.

I was alone in the lab, locking up the items we had been inspecting from our professor’s recent dig, when I heard a faint voice. At first I thought I was being punked by one of the other students, but everyone else had left the building hours earlier. As a nerdy freshman with nothing better to do on a Friday night, I offered to stay behind and secure the artifacts for the weekend.

But I couldn’t immediately pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. It seemed to be inside my brain without ever having passed through my ears. It was neither male nor female, and it was speaking a language I had never heard before, yet somehow understood perfectly. My brain translated its mishmash of foreign gibberish into “I can fulfill all of your desires,” and those words repeated over and over again.

You don’t get an offer like that every day, so I was determined to find the source of this mantra. Although the volume never rose above a whisper, I felt a vibration in my body as the words hit me, a vibration which ebbed as I walked away from the vault and increased the closer I got to the artifacts I was packing away.

I opened one plastic bin after another, unsure what I was looking for, yet somehow convinced that I would know it when I found it. Sure enough, when I peeled back the lid on the third bin, something resonated within me and my eyes were drawn to a small carved stone man which I figured must be a fertility idol. I may only have been a first-semester freshman archaeology major, but I did know that when you see a statue with a monumental erect penis, you’re looking at a fertility idol.

Not that I gave a particular shit about fertility, being gay and all. But when a chunk of sculpted rock starts transmitting messages directly into your cranium, it’s not the sort of thing you ignore.

Seeing the shadow of a janitor falling on the door to the lab, I quickly stuffed the statue into my backpack, locked the rest of the items in the vault, and headed back to my dorm.

I ran until I got exhausted, which, I’ll be honest, wasn’t all that far. But I did walk briskly the rest of the way. When I reached my dorm room, I locked the door behind me and pulled the drapes. I was relieved that my roommate Ryan was gone for the weekend, so I would have the room to myself and could investigate what exactly the statue meant by “I can fulfill all of your desires,” a message it had continued to repeat incessantly. If only I could figure out how to shut that voice up.

Random roommate assignments can be cruel. Plenty of guys in our wing of the dorm detested their roommates whereas Ryan and I got along fine, but if you really want to torment an insecure gay nerd, stick him in the same room with a cute guy who’s at college on a wrestling scholarship. With his shaggy brown hair and slightly sad brown eyes, there was something about Ryan that reminded me of the cocker spaniel I had when I was in grade school. He was the same height as me, but had a solid build, although to stay in his proper weight division, he could never bulk up too much which kept him athletically trim. In contrast, my body bore an unfortunate resemblance to the stick figure in a game of Hangman: a huge round head atop a flimsy body. My mom always called my hair “auburn”, but to me, my bristly buzzcut resembled a welcome mat stapled to my skull, right down to its reddish-brown color which would perfectly camouflage any mud or dogshit you needed to scrape off your boots. My eyes were what they call “hazel”, but I just thought they were too lazy to commit to being brown. I tried not to think too often about my body, but I didn’t think too much of it.

Probably the worst part of having Ryan as a roommate was that his teammates would often come over to hang out in the room and drink or play poker after practice. You might think that being stuck in a room full of buff guys, still funky with sweat in their workout clothes, would be a gift from the gods for a dweeb like me, but it was torture. I was far too shy and insecure to simply gawk at them. At most, I would sneak the occasional glance, storing up enough visuals to get me through a week of wet dreams and lingering showers.

Worst of all, the friendliest of the bunch was the one who made me weakest in the knees. Kyle was a sophomore, a tall blond with a much more muscular physique than Ryan. While the other wrestlers seemed intent on ignoring my physical presence in the room, Kyle was the only one who bothered to learn that my name was Corey, and he always made a point of asking what I was up to, how I was adjusting to life at college, which classes I was enjoying most. I usually delivered my answers in a self-conscious monotone drone addressed more at the floor than at Kyle, but it was nice that he made any effort at all to talk to me. Sometimes Kyle would even invite me to play poker with the other guys, but I always declined. I’m actually a pretty good card player, but my face would be too flushed if I had to sit at a table with these studs all night.

It wasn’t like Kyle was singling me out for attention. He seemed to be friendly to everyone, but his focus was particularly intense on Ryan. I don’t have nearly enough experience to know how accurate my gaydar is, but nice as Ryan is, there’s no way his jokes are funny enough to make Kyle laugh that hard, and there’s no way Ryan’s rudimentary thoughts on the quality of the food at the commons are as insightful as Kyle’s serious nods would lead you to believe.

Plus Kyle always seemed to have a boner when he looked at Ryan. So there was that too.

It was a frustrating predicament with no hope of resolution. A mega-stud like Kyle was never going to be into a scrawny loser like me. I wished I looked like Ryan, because then I know Kyle would love me.

As soon as that thought passed through my brain, the mysterious voice changed its chant. Inside my head, the voice’s mysterious words translated to “Your desires shall be fulfilled.”

I noticed that my backpack which was hung over the back of my desk chair was bouncing erratically, like a giant Mexican jumping bean. A slight glow was seeping through the talons of the zipper. I walked over to cautiously unzip the backpack and was bathed in a brilliant beam of intense light, like the headlight of a semi racing directly toward my face. I reached inside and grabbed the idol. The light was radiating from the stone figure’s eyes. I reeled backwards, knocking my head against the chest of drawers as the idol and I dropped to the floor. I lay there dazed, not sure for how long.

I clutched my head as the idol’s light dissipated. I found my fingers brushing not through my usual harsh crew cut but something fuller. My clothes felt claustrophobic and constricting, the fabric clinging tightly to my body, my shoes suddenly too small. I hoisted my way to my feet with unfamiliar agility and was startled to find Ryan staring at me.

“Shit, you scared me,” I said, and oddly, Ryan said exactly the same words at exactly the same time. “I thought you were gone for the weekend.” Again, I saw and heard him saying precisely the same thing as I did…until the fog and dizziness lifted and I realized that neither time had I heard my own voice. After a few more moments, I realized I was staring in a mirror. I was the only person in the room, and I now looked and sounded like Ryan.

It was uncanny. My entire being had been recast in the likeness of my roommate, messy hair, soulful eyes, pillowy lips and all. The buttons on my shirt were straining against his wrestler’s muscles. I began to unbutton the shirt until my eagerness became too great for me and I yanked the shirt apart, sending buttons ricocheting off the walls. I rubbed a hand across my tight chest and down my modest six-pack, then over the bulging crotch of my pants. Excited, I squirmed my way free from my corduroys and pulled out a semi-hard five-incher that oozed pre-cum onto my suddenly callused fingers.

It was unbelievable.

Literally.

This went against everything I believed it. I was here at college to study science, not voodoo and magic. Yet the proof of what had happened was staring back at me in the mirror, with puppy-dog eyes. Before this moment, I had never been able to let my attention linger on Ryan’s body without risking total humiliation. Now that I saw him fully fleshed-out, so to speak, I was practically drooling over his svelte body, his elegant musculature, his boyishly handsome face. Without even realizing it, I had started to stroke this new cock as I ogled this new body. I started to ponder the exact definition of what was going on. Was I jerking myself off or was I giving Ryan’s body a handjob? I quickly lost interest in such questions as a wave of euphoria spread from my sensitive cock through the rest of my body, making me feel dizzy. I braced one hand against the dresser as…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I froze in place, hand firmly on cock, unsure what to do. I waited, trying not to make a sound. From through the door, I heard a familiar voice say, “Corey, are you in there?”

Holy shit, it was Kyle! Since when did Kyle come looking for me?

“I know you’re in there, Corey. The lights are on.”

What choice did I have? I answered. “Kyle?”

“Ryan?”

Shit, I’d forgotten that I was speaking with Ryan’s voice now.

“I thought you were gone for the weekend,” Kyle said with a hint of anger in his voice.

I scrambled naked around the room, attempting to pull on my clothes but finding them too tight and shredded to be of much good. I rushed to stuff them into my closet but stubbed my toe on the stone idol and tumbled to the floor with a colossal thud.

“What the fuck’s going on in there?” Kyle asked.

“Just tripped is all. Be there in a sec.” I climbed to my feet and grabbed the idol from the floor. I could swear that its expression had changed from stoic to smiling, and its stone boner was longer than before. I wrapped my torn clothes around it, then stuffed it on the top shelf of my closet. I desperately looked in Ryan’s closet for something to wear. The easiest thing to pull on in a hurry was his wrestling singlet, so I wriggled it up my legs, over my fading erection and past my impressive shoulders.

“C’mon, man, open up,” Kyle moaned.

I took a deep breath and swung open the door, attempting to look casual as I brushed a hand through my lush, disheveled hair. “What’s up?”

I got goosebumps as I watched Kyle’s green eyes take me in. I was sure I would immediately be found out as an impostor through some inauthentic gesture, some un-Ryan turn of phrase, but I didn’t detect a flicker of suspicion on Kyle’s face. Instead, he handed me a copy of Minecraft, saying, “I just wanted to return this before your roomie realized it was missing. Didn’t want him freaking out all weekend.”

I hadn’t even known the game was gone from my collection, but he was right that I’d have torn the room apart searching for it. I took the opportunity to make myself seem less neurotic. “Oh, Corey wouldn’t have freaked. He’s pretty cool about that shit.”

“Why are you wearing your fucking singlet on a Friday night?”

True, it was not Ryan’s usual dorm-room apparel, even if its snug fit did feel awesome and look spectacular.

“It was just the closest thing to grab,” I told him.

Kyle checked out my crotch, noticing my still-hefty hard-on and the spot of cum that was oozing from the tip and spreading across the fabric of the singlet. Kyle pieced together what I must have been doing and looked disappointed. “Oh, I see, you’d rather sit alone in your room and jerk off on a Friday night than let me do it for you?”

I blinked, unsure if that was just a bit of casual locker-room humor. Kyle certainly looked serious.

“So what’s the deal? Why are you still here? I thought you had that family thing to go to this weekend.”

“Aah, I decided to blow that off,” I said with a shrug and an eye roll.

Kyle closed the door and walked toward me with a hurt look in his eyes. “How can I be sure you didn’t just make up this whole family thing so you could blow ME off?”

I looked back at Kyle, genuinely confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The hurt in Kyle’s eyes shifted to barely controlled anger. “Bullshit, Ryan. You know we made plans to spend the weekend together at my family’s vacation house. What, did you get cold feet? Afraid people will find out you’re queer?”

I needed to hit rewind on that last sentence, unsure that I’d actually heard what I thought I’d heard. “You and I were… going away?”

“I know you’re here on an athletic scholarship, Ryan, but you’re no idiot and I’d appreciate if you didn’t treat me like one either.”

Ho-ly shit. Were Ryan and Kyle actually a couple? Or did that mischievous stone icon just reshuffle the universe so Kyle would be interested in me? It was all too mind-boggling, no matter what happened, but in any case I had to make things up to Kyle, and quickly, or I might miss this chance forever. I extended my arms toward him, but he turned away.

“Kyle, you may not believe me, but our plans totally slipped my mind. I’ve had so much on my mind lately, I haven’t been thinking straight.”

He glanced back at me with a conciliatory grin. “I don’t want you thinking straight. I want you thinking gay, just like after last Saturday’s meet.”

This was my moment. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his thick torso, resting my cheek against his broad, warm chest. His gym-sculpted arms embraced me in a tight squeeze and I felt comfortable and wanted. He kissed me on the forehead and I smiled up at him. I peeled off the singlet and, as Kyle stripped off his shirt, I shot my wad immediately, cumming onto his bare chest. I couldn’t help it. To see Kyle standing right next to me, with his ripped torso and massive arms exposed like that… Fortunately, he took it as a compliment.

Kyle was a true gentleman, just like I’d always suspected, and he seemed kind of nervous too. From the little things he said, I got the sense that he and Ryan had never actually had sex before. Too hard to find a quiet place where the two of them could be undisturbed. If I had only known, I could have cleared out of the dorm room more often in order to give Kyle and Ryan more chances to make out. It would’ve been even cooler if I could have watched, but I doubt they’d have done anything with me in the room. Of course, now it was almost like my mind was having a three-way with Ryan and Kyle’s bodies. It felt a bit like cheating to be losing my virginity in someone else’s body, but I wasn’t complaining. Kyle wouldn’t be doing this if he’d found Corey in the room.

Kyle stripped down the rest of the way, struggling to get his tight jeans past his powerful quads. When he lowered his bikini briefs, I got my first glimpse of a Kyle boner that wasn’t trapped under fabric. I knelt on the floor in front of him and placed my lips around the head of his cock, inhaling the ripe musky scent of his pubes. I tried my best to concentrate on every sensation I was feeling, not knowing how long the idol’s curse would last or if I would ever get this chance again. I wrapped my palms across Kyle’s muscular ass cheeks and squeezed them, feeling jealous of every wrestler who had ever been lucky enough to spend time on the mat with him. I could taste his cum as it began to ooze from his cock. As he ran his fingers through my hair, clutching and tugging my locks, I pulled my head back, licking the length of his shaft as I felt it flinch in anticipation. Kyle’s body tensed up and he unleashed a flood of jizz down my throat. I closed my eyes and allowed my body to relax as I felt each pulse of his cock.

Emission accomplished.

We were both spent, so I took Kyle’s hand and led him to my bed. Kyle looked confused.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Why are we going to your roommate’s bed?”

Force of habit, obviously, but I couldn’t say that. “My bed smells sweaty.”

“I like that smell. It smells like you.”

Even if I looked like Ryan, I was still Corey the neat freak inside, and I preferred my own crisp, fresh sheets to Ryan’s wrinkly pig sty. “Corey keeps his sheets nice and clean,” I told Kyle. “Don’t worry, he won’t mind.”

“When is he coming back?”

“I have no idea,” I told Kyle. Since the idol had not reversed the spell yet, I had no idea what, if anything, would cause the transformation to be undone. I might turn back into Corey at any second or I might be stuck as Ryan forever… if you call that being stuck. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy this weekend with Kyle.

“What if he walks in on us?”

I shook my head with a naughty grin. “That’s impossible.”

Literally.


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