Student body president

By BRK  Patreon Contact Page Twitter
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• Latest update: 5 October. Next update: 26 October. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest post: Saturday Flashback: October 2016.

• Latest from BRK: “Tell me about my boner”, Parts 1‑2.

 

“I’ve got to win this election, Justin,” Ryan was pleading.

Justin refused to turn around or even look up from his laptop, but his cheeks burned. Why had he ever let anyone find out he could do magic? He’s only told his childhood friend Steve, or it would have burst out of him like the creature in Alien, but it seemed within minutes everyone in St. Alban’s School for Young Men knew. They’d looked at him askance at first, but it hadn’t been long before they’d started coming in secret, begging for favors. Like now.

Justin was annoyed by Ryan’s temerity, and was also anxious for him to go for other reasons. There was no one in the dorm at the moment but them, but soon everyone would be back from dinner, and Justin desperately had to get off before then. When he’d realized he had powers he’d been afraid to change his body much, but he’d sure grown his cock. Well, cocks, now. He’d only jerked them off twice today and they were starting to demand his attention. Calculus just didn’t have the same appeal.

“Justin, I need your help,” Ryan asked. “If I don’t make president I’ll be dead. A joke.”

“Like I care.” Justin adjusted his slowly swelling cocks in his uniform slacks. Ryan was standing very close behind him. He could feel the warmth of his body in the chill room. Justin angrily reminded himself of how the popular kids always got what they want, and how Ryan was the worst of them. Justin was sure Ryan and his best bud Taylor were behind the feeling of unease everyone seemed to project these days whenever Justin turned up. Instead of being the most popular kid in the school, the kid who could do magic—Justin’s secret dream all the time he’d been anxiously guarding his secret—instead he was more of a freak than ever.

The only thing that saved him was that he hadn’t told Steve about the transformation part—he was too embarrassed by what he’d done and what he wanted to do. They all thought he could do “magic”—Samantha Stevens magic. (In fact his ironclad nickname was now “Sam.”) Ryan probably thought Justin could fix the election with a twitch of the nose.

“Get lost,” he said, aware and ashamed of a desire to not let him go. Justin cursed his easy attraction to the brainy jock types that seemed to proliferate at St. Alban’s—big muscles, broad shoulders, a shock of black hair, and bright blue eyes. Ryan was the epitome. Justin’s cocks were struggling against the fabric of his slacks. Justin knew he was being manipulated, that Ryan was using his beauty to get to him where he was most vulnerable. He felt a surge of anger. To himself as much as to Ryan he said firmly, “I won’t help you.”

“Man, I need you. You’re the only one who can make it happen. I’ll pay,” Ryan added softly, taking a step closer, so that he was pressed against the back of Justin’s chair.

Justin cleared his suddenly dry throat. Stupid trust fund babies, he thought. “I don’t want your money.”

Ryan placed his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean money,” he said. Ryan gently pulled Justin’s head back and sweetly kissed his neck. “I want you to make me popular,” Ryan breathed into Justin’s ear as his strong hands slowly roamed the taut body under Justin’s uniform shirt.

“How popular?” Justin heard himself whisper. Amazingly, despite all his determination, he felt his will weakening. He was turning to jelly.

“So popular they’ll vote for me without even realizing it.” Ryan’s lips brushed along Justin’s blond-stubbled jaw. Justin’s heart sank, because he knew he could do this, and with his will weakening in the face of Ryan’s caresses he feared he would do it. He’d instinctively known many things when he found his powers, and one of them was how to increase male beauty and, at a deeper level, attractiveness, magnetism. He’d practiced, surreptitiously, on half the student body—including Ryan. He’d watched him jogging easily around the track, or absorbed in a book in the library, and had made him a little more beautiful almost without realizing it, and more than once, he now realized. As he felt himself succumbing to the pleasure of Ryan’s hot breath and warm hands he realized he had himself partly to blame.

Ryan’s lips had found Justin’s and they touched, sparking something deep inside Justin. “You’ll do it, won’t you, Sam?” he breathed.

He tried to say “fuck you.” But it came out as “fuck me.”

Ryan smiled.


Justin changed Ryan as they fucked. They hurried a little, anxiously listening for the footfalls of fellow students in the drafty corridor outside the dorm, tucked cozily into the lower bunk of one of the bunk beds. Maybe Justin rushed his transformations a little too, but it didn’t matter to them in that moment, the most mind-blowing fuck either of them had ever had. Justin grew Ryan around him, over him, in him; his incremental transformations were one with their passion, with the raw heat between them, both of them surprised by the intensity of the other. And he made him more and more and more beautiful, unenduringly beautiful, bigger and more beautiful with every thrust, and when they came—when they exploded, Justin screaming, Ryan having to muffle him with a great hand—Justin had to force himself not to pour himself into his powers, or he would have redoubled everything he’d done before. Holding back his transformation powers as he soared through a soul-wrenching orgasm, his well-defined torso drenched in twin streams of hot cum, was difficult and oddly exhilarating.

Just as Justin mastered himself, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the postcoital moment of peace—just as he found himself staring into Ryan’s eyes and finding—amazing!—a glint of warmth and tenderness—just as he was considering reassessing his opinion of the brainy jock over whose broadened shoulders his legs still lolled, who now seemed to fill more of the space between the bunks than he had twenty minutes before, who was now smiling down at him—just then, they heard the scuffling of many footfalls in echoing stairwell leading up to the corridor outside.

“Fuck!” Ryan exclaimed, glancing at the door in a panic. His half-hard cock was still deep inside Justin. Frantically he started to pull out.

“Slow!” Justin whispered, wincing. Ryan tried to slow down, but it was taking too long. His cock had grown inside Justin. And Ryan found as he tried to back up that he had nowhere to go. The door would be opening any minute and he still had inches of cock inside Justin, and the thrill of exposure was actually turning him on and restiffening his cock!

Ryan looked down at Justin with wild eyes. He couldn’t be caught fucking the freak. They both knew it.

Justin thought quickly. There was only one thing he could think of doing.

Justin had had intense recurring dreams since he’d discovered his powers. Each time, though he couldn’t really remember them, the dream had pointed to something he found he could do, and when he tried it in real life he found he could do it like a pro, as if he’d packed years of practice into a few intense dreams. He’s found his ability to grow other people (and himself) that way, and another time he’d discovered making someone more attractive.

Almost a month before he’d had another dream. He hadn’t had the nerve to try it. Until now.

The door was opening! Justin stared into Ryan’s panicky eyes and … did it.

Ryan’s eyes bulged and he knew he’d done it. He looked down at himself. All he could see was Ryan and the bed. He was invisible.

Quickly he pulled himself the rest of the way off Ryan’s cock and slid off the bed, even as the other guys were filtering into the room.

They caught sight of Ryan as he was feeling around on the bed, trying to find where Justin had gone. “Yo, Ryan, what are you looking for, your jockstrap?” one called. Some of the others snicked. A small curious crowd gathered around the bunk where Ryan crouched, only half-aware of what was going on.

“Look at him,” another said, as if about to deliver a put-down—after all they’d found him naked and boned, obviously about to jack off; but the fact was they *were* all looking at him, and when he finally turned to look at them, there were a few gasps.

Slowly he unfolded himself from the confined space of the bunk bed and straightened up. Every eye followed him. Instinctively they moved toward him.

Justin had scuttled off to the side, still invisible, though he felt he would have gone unnoticed even if he weren’t. He eyed Ryan in some distress. He had gone too far.

Already beautiful, Ryan was now simply the most beautiful, the most magnetically attractive man he’d ever seen, and in recognition of this unassailable fact his two monster cocks, exhausted only a moment ago, were now bone hard again and thumping against his pecs, leaving little dots of precum on his invisible chest. He glanced at the others and was amazed to see them all boned in their school uniforms too—even Zeb and Scott, who had not even shown up on Justin’s gaydar and still didn’t, but were now staring wide-eyed at Ryan, mouths open, and moving toward him with all the rest.

Ryan was looking down at them in a mild daze. From Justin’s vantage point on the floor Ryan looked enormous, towering over him like the Colossus at Rhodes. Justin shook his head. How tall did I make him? he thought, heart pounding. He glanced at the others. Zeb. He knew Zeb was 6’6”, because he’d bragged about gaining four inches this year and how it would get him onto the basketball team. (Little did he know those four inches had come from Justin in his first attempt at growing someone else—a terrifying experiment because Zeb had grown the four inches in a fraction of a second as soon as Justin had tried focusing his power on the sleeping hunk. Later, Justin had finetuned his “trigger finger” on his own cock.) Zeb was looking up at Ryan, who was now a good head taller then him.

Seven and a half feet tall. Dayum.

They clustered around him now. Taylor, Ryan’s bud, was in front, and as he stared up into Ryan’s eyes his hands reached out as if with their own volition and lightly grasped Ryan’s twenty-inch wrist-wide boner with both hands. The others gathered around and, all as they looked up at him, began caressing Ryan’s long, long, super-lanky bod without even seeming to notice.

Justin bit his lip. If he’d paid more attention Ryan would have come out better proportioned, instead of looking all stretched. Especially in his abs and arms and legs. He looked like he had a ten-pack! It helped some that he had grown his muscles, but only the ones he’d been paying attention to—especially the shoulders and the pecs, which now looked freakishly out of proportion to his 28-inch waist and long, toned arms and legs. His neck looked a little longer than usual, too. Had he grown that? Justin wasn’t even sure.

Ryan seemed like he was starting to come out of it. “Shit, guys, what’s going on?” he said in a slightly deeper voice. Fuck. He glanced around, looking for a moment toward where Justin lay invisible. Justin got the full force of his beauty, his laser-bright eyes and gigawatt half-smile, and as if being buffeted by a powerful, warm, embracing gust of a looming storm Justin came, his sixteen-inch double-wide cocks spraying what little cum he had left onto his chest and shoulders. His balls ached and he cursed under his breath.

“What are you guys doing?” Ryan said, every word sounding sexy whether Ryan wanted it to or not. The unconscious groping was escalating, and Justin was watching it with mounting fascination.

“Nothin’ dude,” Taylor said, his gentle two-handed jacking slightly faster than before. “Do you—need anything?”

“Anything at all?” echoed a few of the guys, as hands canvassed his elongated body, his oversized pecs, his taut bubblebutt, his magnificent shoulders. Scott and Troy had cum already—their crotches were soaked with cum, plastered against their still-hard boners. No one seemed to notice.

Ryan seemed to realize all at once that he was being felt up by twenty guys. He tried to step back, but once again, there was nowhere to go. He was surrounded.

As if the time had come to do so several of the guys began to supplement the caresses of their hands with their tongues. Justin came again, practically a dry heave of his overtaxed balls. The pain was intense. Justin racked his brain to see if he knew how to replenish his own balls and found, bemused, that he did. He was still cumming as he refilled his balls, and half of the new cum ended up almost immediately on his shoulders and on his cheeks and in his hair, fresh and piping hot. Damn! He’d never cum like this and he felt hotter and more turned on than ever.

“What can we do for you?” Taylor asked, and then, still seeming not to be aware of what he was doing, he licked the head of Ryan’s quivering erection.

“Anything,” someone else said. Some of them were down on their knees and were licking Ryan’s legs, his feet, his glutes, his balls. Four of them were gently working Ryan’s nipples, which were pointing down from the bottom of his freaky pecs, including Zeb, the only one tall enough to lick them without stretching up on tiptoe.

Ryan looked down in bewilderment, but Justin could see he was not proof from the intense pleasure his friends were idly giving him. He cleared his throat. “I missed dinner,” he said in his deep rich voice. “I’m hungry.”

Taylor immediately pulled his mouth away from the side of Ryan’s arm-sized boner. “Cameron, Andrew,” he said.

The indicated two, who were at that moment licking and caressing Ryan’s ten-pack abs, looked up, dismayed. But Ryan smiled down on them, and they grinned back and practically fell over themselves to bustle out the door. In a moment they were gone.

Ryan looked down at his amazing naked body. “I’m also going to need some new clothes, I think,” he said, half to himself.

“I can sew!” Troy volunteered. Justin’s jaw dropped—no one around here would admit to that in a million years. But Troy was beaming. He had cum again: the wet patch in his pants had spread considerably. “I’ll make them for you,” he said proudly.

Ryan grinned at him and said thanks, and Troy swayed, nearly passing out.

Justin watched all of this with discomfort, even as his cocks seemed only to stiffen more as the gang grope got hotter and hotter. He knew Ryan. He was already starting to take advantage of his power over the other guys. And this might be just the beginning.

Justin would have to do something. But what? He didn’t know how to undo what he’d done.

Suddenly the intensity of the moment caught Ryan himself, and he arched his back and, apparently much to his own surprise, started to cum, over and over and over, screaming, and he collapsed into the arms of his cum-covered buds, still spraying huge quantities of cum all over all of them and all over himself, and there was so much it was spraying everything in the room, including Justin, and all the guys were cumming in the pants and Justin was emptying out his balls all over again with the most intense orgasm yet since Ryan had fucked him. He saw stars for a minute and then the dorm reappeared around him, and the guys were gently laying Ryan down on the ground, one of them lying down under his head to serve as a pillow; and towels appeared from somewhere and they started gently cleaning Ryan, oblivious to their own cum-soaked shirts and pants and the cum all over their faces and in their hair. And as he watched them ministering to Ryan Justin’s eyes narrowed and he vowed he would take back the power of unconscious domination he had given to Ryan. Somehow.

He clambered to his feet and padded out of the room, his invisible erections bobbing in front of him and bumping his pecs. He didn’t need Ryan to get off. His first act of defiance would, he thought wryly, be to find a place where he could suck himself off in private.


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