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wwry2018 · 8 months

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Curse of Yes/No

My name was Jace, I was 26 living in the suburbs of Sydney, it was getting close to the end of my year at uni and my girlfriend Sherry wanted me to go out and have some fun. She slid over a flyer for a local festival. A Halloween festival.

We don’t really celebrate Halloween in Australia. But as time has gone on it seems to be more and more present. Decorations being available to buy in stores, kids talking about trick or treating and festivals and street markets advertising Halloween themes.

My friends wanted me to go to one that was on tonight in town. It promised Fall themed food, spooky rides and classic Halloween fun. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go or not. Usually I let others decide for me. And it was hot as hell. Fall themed food wasn’t what I was looking for when it was 35 degrees c in the shade. But as I said I wasn’t big on making decisions.

So my best mate Ricky said he would pick me up at 8pm and we would go and have a look. Sherry was working late and said it would be good for me to get out and try to relax. Being a third year accounting student it didn’t come easy. She said go relax just don’t let Ricky get you drunk.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

As we walk into the festival it has this classic spooky horror theme of a gypsy caravan.. There are rides and haunted mansions to walk through but mostly it’s to theme. Ricky spots a fortune teller carriage at the end of a line. ‘Perfect” he says. ‘This is what you need. Go get your answers as you can never decide for yourself’. I um’d and ah’d if I should do it or not. Ricky just said ‘exactly” he put $50 in my hand and pushed me in the tent yelling”I’m going to hit on the hot carnie, have fun”

I tumbled inside and looked around seeing a man lounging in a chair having a drink. ‘I’m so sorry’ I said gathering myself.

‘My Friend was being pushy, literally and wanted me to have my fortune read, but I don’t know if I should or not. It’s not a very me thing to do, I mean it sounds like fun and all but, you’re here I don’t see an old crone and a crystal ball anywhere. Haha ‘

Old crone and crystal ball. Well that’s not a very nice stereotype!’ The man said. ‘ but I wouldn’t expect a ginger accountant named Jace to come for a reading in Australian either, so I guess we are even.’

‘How do you know my name? ‘ I said in shock and backing towards the door.

‘We are not all old crones or female, that was just to show you I’m the real deal. Com now sit. Ricky has paid for your thirty minutes, let’s not waste this.’ He says as he walks behind me and guides me to a chair across from him. ‘Hold out your hand, palm up’ I do so in shock and almost trance, I’ve never been a big believer but I always believe in what I experienced.

He looks at my palm only briefly and starts to speak. ‘ you are not on the right path’. I snap out of it. ‘Really ?” ‘I thought accounting was the right fit.’

‘Nothing is right’ accounting, your clothes, Sherry. All wrong, because all were not your choice. You simply let others decide for you, so now you are on the wrong path. Ricky. Ricky is the one right thing in your life. He will be the one to correct it. Trust in Ricky. Ironically it will take someone else to tell you what to do to make you get on the right path and choose your destiny’

As I snatch my hand away I get upset ‘what do you mean, all is wrong with me. Who says that to a person. And I love Sherry, I’m going to marry her,…. I think’ ‘I don’t know who you are or how you know these things but it’s wrong.’

As I go to storm to the exit I feel like I’m in a tumble dryer the world spins on its axis. I look back and the Gypsy is muttering and then spits at me. ‘ I give you a Curse! Not to hurt but help’ as I steady myself he walks towards me. ‘Use this to your advantage, not all curse’s can be detrimental. Until the clock strikes 12. Any question that is asked of a Yes. Or. A No. the opposite will be a reality. It has the power to rearrange you future your past. So be wise young Jace. And remember my words Ricky is the one to put you on a try path. Go now

I stumbled out of the carriage dazed wondering what had just happened. I looked at my watch. It was 9:15 pm. Sherry would be here soon and we can go home. I wasn’t looking and a bumped into a guy. “ watch where you’re going mate!” He yelled. “ hey do you smoke? Can I bum one?”

As I went to say no it was as if time slowed down and rewound very quickly to the day in the 8th grade when Tommy Doyle asked me to meet him behind the sheds at school to try smoking, he stole a pack from his dad. I had said no, but in this flash I has said yes. I joined Tommy, I had memory flood through my brain of school and uni and clubs always smoking, my friends were a little bit different to,, Ricky was there of course but they all didn’t seem so straight laced, my clothes seemed to feel looser, darker a little more edgier, I felt slightly more confident and strangely fitter, felt my arm tingle as a tattoo appeared as the spin came back to reality.

‘Yeah sure man” I think passed him the packet and lit the lighter from my pocket, “ sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going”

‘No problem” as the guy walked away I looked back and the gypsy was standing in the door way, laughing.

Something didn’t seem right, I turned to to go taking an another deep inhale on my smoke. I needed to find Ricky and get home to Sherry.

This is the first of a few chapters, let me know if I should continue.

#Curse #smoking #reality change #mental change #male transformation

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wwry2018 · 1 year

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Desire.

I was so excited, I had just gotten a phone call from my agent that I had landed my first lead role on stage. Stanley in “ a streetcar named desire”

The role was famously played but the great and hot Marlon Brando in his prime. I was so excited , but my agent said they had one note for me. I had the acting down and I was handsome but I needed to but more manly.

Now, I’m gay but I’m not exactly prancing round. But I guess I’m not going to be cutting down trees anytime soon. Bobby is my name and acting is my game, not labour.

Masculine I needed help with. The good news is they had a coach for me, he worked with Hugh Jackman to take this song and dance man, to cigar chomping action hero.

So I head to this dodgy part of town. You know how in a horror movie they’re fog sitting around and distant animal noise and you yell RUN at the screen. This is what I was looking at but in a back ally. As I knock on the door I’m hit in the back of the head and drop to the ground.

I wake up strapped to a table, I can’t move nothing and there is a giant screen directly in front of my face. As I go to scream for help I hear a voice behind my say. Class is in session. the screen springs to life and images of rough and tough burly men are playing in succession in front of me. Truck drivers, wrestlers lumberjacks burley men, hairy men. In between words flash so quickly on the screen I barely recognise them. Like MAN. HARD. WORK. TOUGH. SMOKE. It all so quickly I don’t know what to do, I can’t close my eyes and can’t block it out.

I feel a needle in my arm, I go to wince but can’t move. My eye go back to the screen. MANS MAN. CIGAR. FIGHT. FUCK. HAIRY. MUSK. DIRT. WORK.

I feel my muscles start to tense. Like I have been at the gym for hours…..no not the gym. Working I’ve been for years. Chopping trees and working on cars. I feel my chest inflate and my legs start to chunk up. Like the tree trunks I cut down.

Man I’m thirsty, I could go a water. A water….would do nothing. I need a beer. Beer is the only thing that is gonna help this feeling.

MANS MAN. FIGHT. DRINK. SMOKE. CIGAR.Wo FUCK. FUCK HARD. WOMEN. PUSSY.

images turn from guys like me to women , naked. Big breast, hands rubbing up and down to her thick wet juicy pussy.

I feel my dick getting hard. This isn’t right I’m gay. I like cock and eating Ass, eating ……..Pussy. Hot wet Juicy pussy, having them suck my big chokeable cock.

FUCK. DRINK.FUCK.CIGAR.FUCK.WORK. FUCK.FUCK.FUCK.FUCK.

Three weeks later. No one had heard from Bobby. He is due in the rehearsal room to start Streetcar to become Stanley.

The door bangs and standing there is Bob. Bobs not used to this a touchy feely stuff. He is used to working, and working hard, but when he saw what they were going to pay him to pretty much be himself on stage. He thought fuck it. He took another drag on his cigar, wiped his hands and strode into the room. Stanley was there.

#gay to straight #mental change #cigar #my first story

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wwry2018 · 1 year

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Hi. Love your work. It’s my Birthday today. Any chance of a story turning me into a younger, cigar smoking jock from my 40 year old white collar suburban everyday 9-5.

love your work even if not :)

You open the door, startled by such a forceful knock at this time of the day. Looking around, you see nobody anywhere nearby, if anything, an unnerving quiet had fallen over your neighborhood as if you were the only one around for a mile. Just as you were preparing to shut the door and return to whatever you were doing, you feel the tip of your toe hit something as you retreat back into your home. Looking down, a small package in nondescript brown packaging sat ominously at your feet.

No label, no return address, nothing. It was your birthday, so you thought to yourself that perhaps one of your neighbors was being kind and wanted to do something nice for a change. You pick up the box and gently shake it. Something loose inside of it rattles about, clearly not heavy, nor breakable. You take the box inside, sitting down onto the couch and begin to tear the brown paper from it. Atop the taped cardboard box, a small note was attached.

"Happy Birthday. Hopefully this brings you memories of a simpler time. Enjoy." The letter was unsigned, written in inhuman, clear lettering. Intrigued, you open the box. Inside, rolling around was a single cigar. You pick it up, feeling the smooth cylinder glide between your fingers. Smiling, you light it up, ready to unwind for just a moment. It is your birthday after all.

Taking one deep drag, you lean back into the sofa, exhaling a huge cloud of thick tobacco smoke. The cigar tastes funky, salty almost. The unexpected flavor takes you aback for a moment, though even stopping for one moment made you crave one more drag. Bringing it to your lips, you take another inhale, feeling your chest rise and fall as the cloud escapes your lips. The cigar feels at home between your lips as they plump up and stubble begins to crawl down from your sharpening jaw to your chest.

You rub your itching pecs as they begin to grow, your shoulders widen and square out with thick deltoids and traps. You take another drag. The sensation of smoke flows deep into you, coursing through your veins, filling your expanding biceps and rock hard forearms. Between your callousing fingers, worn from hard labor and barbell scratches, you roll your cigar and savor the newfound vitality which overwhelms your thickening muscles.

You slide your pants off as your quads inflate, setting off a stirring in your groin. Your balls grow heavy and pendulous, filled with thick, juicy, potent seed. Pre begins to leak out of the lengthening shaft, your new funky musk wafting from your damp pits and sweaty balls drives you wild as you begin to paw at your rock hard bulge. Slipping your increasingly moist boxers off, your 11" cock slams against your cum gutters throbbing with each burst of muscle growth in your calves. Taking it in your hand, you beat your musty donkey dick as you feel your toes strain against the confines of your socks, sweat pouring into the cotton fibers before the loud tearing sounds of the fabric giving way notate their inevitable demise.

You stroke faster and harder, your balls swinging and jumping with every tug of the meaty member. Your slick cockhead slipping in and out of the sticky foreskin inches you closer and closer until you can't contain yourself any longer. With one final slamming down of your fist onto your groin, ropes of sticky, thick cum shoot out of your cock like a geyser. Every shot your face grows younger, fuller, sharper. Your brows fall downward into a permanently furrowed look as your hair curls wildly, becoming a sweaty mop atop your chiseled skull.

Breathing out, you exhale the last remnants of yourself. Sitting there, covered in your own splooge, you chuckle to yourself as you rub the baby batter into your skin. You crack your toe knuckles and jump up, slipping on your favorite pair of Wrangler jeans and your ripe Timberland boots. Being sure not to forget your gifted cigar, you sauntered out the door, looking to find a good time to make your perfect birthday complete.

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