Always Try the House Blend 5
by Flashpoint
Joey knew he was dead. There was no way that anyone could feel so incredibly good and still be alive.
He didn't want to wake up. He was having the most incredibly hot dream possible. He was being penetrated by a muscle god with a dick approximately the size of a baseball bat and he in turn was balls-deep in the most unbelievably hot, wet, and open hole he'd ever encountered. There was no muscle resistance at all, the way he liked it best. Yes, there was definitely something to be said for being Lucky Pierre.
Then he opened his eyes.
It was uncertain whether his yell could be heard in the street or not, but it was an even bet either way. Where the hell was he?
Both of his assaulters stopped their motions on the bed at the sound. The open hole in front, an extremely good-looking young man with a hole that could easily be mistaken for the Grand Canyon, stopped moving his distended rosebud back against Joey's invasion and tightened up in his startlement. (Fractionally; he truly was stretched out.) "Daddy, what's wrong?" he said in a very worried tone. *Daddy?!?* Joey was so put off by that remark that he didn't even notice that the monolith invading him had also stopped moving. In fact, it was so still it might as well have been a marble... well, baseball bat. It really was big. "Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"
"Uh, uh..." Joey said, unsure of what to say. "I, uh, no. Of course not. It feels great." As an afterthought, he added, "Boy." Oh, did that feel alien. He kind of liked the whole authoritarian thing, as a fantasy at least, but he wasn't used to it by any means.
It must have been the right thing to say, though, even if he wasn't sure the tone of voice was on base, because the, uh, boy in question (yes, he was over 18) smiled and said, "Okay, Daddy. You just sound kind of... well, I don't know. Funny." Whoever he was, he had a sort of little-boy sound to his voice which was kind of endearing but was a bit unusual with his look. He looked like your typical college jock, from what Joey could see from his vantage point. Nice, lean, somewhat tall, and an ass that wouldn't quit. Well, from the feel it had quit some time back, but in the sense of giving pleasure.
Ultimately, despite unusual circumstances, Joey had no complaints about it.
"Don't worry about it," Joey said, trying to sound gruff (and failing miserably), "Boy. I..." and he trailed off. Wait a second... there was something very familiar about this guy... "I... just think we need to take a break. Your, uh, ol' daddy needs some down time." Oh, Light of the Creator, am I making as big a fool of myself as I think?
Apparently so, because the kid in question was looking over his shoulder with a somewhat skeptical look. In the dimness of the bedroom, Joey couldn't be sure, but his face looked just like... no, it couldn't be. "Um, okay... you never needed one before, Daddy, are you sure you're okay? I mean, you've only pumped me full of your cum three times since we woke up this morning. I mean, my hole's only hanging open a couple of inches!"
Joey's eyes crossed in lust and distraction. This simply could not be happening to him. He couldn't remember the last time that he had had such a hot experience happen to him, in either of his timeline memory tracks...
Memories. And thinking of memories, ironically, reminded him... "I know, boy, I know. But just let your old Daddy have a minute or two on His own." This Daddy stuff did get easier with practice, even if it did sound just as inane. He started to withdraw his meat from the mushy opening - torturously; he was incredible fuck - and push the boy away from him. He had a very nice lean, hard, body and it was obvious that he had to really be an athlete, not just have a "swimmer's build." And it was a real swimmer's build, not an AOL swimmer's build.
Once he'd completely withdrawn, he swatted the boy on the ass to propel him out of bed, where he stumbled to his feet. Joey was once again muscular enough that it sent the boy a fair distance. "Go on. I have a surprise for you later." He tried to make it suggestively gruff. The real surprise would be when he asked the kid's name.
The kid took a second to get his bearings and waddle to upright. Joey got a view of hourglass lats, firm round glutes, thick but cut thighs... and a huge raw wound between the ass cheeks. The kid couldn't have been over 18 and he had the rectum and wide hole of an experienced fister of at least a decade. That plus the real bow to his legs, of course. Giving a loud wet fart, he staggered / waddled around in a circle so that he was facing Joey. "Daddy? Are you sure that you're not mad at me?" He sounded genuinely puzzled and hurt and surprised. Joey felt vaguely like a heel; he hadn't intended to...
Then his eyes fully adjusted to the gloom and he saw the one face in the world that he would gladly have torn off the skull that supported it. Joey's eyes blazed angrily. "JARED!" he yelled in fury, attempting to leap out of the bed.
Jared (!) jumped back in fright and fell backward onto his ass on the floor. His rosebud made a loud squish as he landed. "Daddy, what is it?! Grandad, what's wrong with Daddy? He was fine just a few minutes ago!" He was attempting to scoot backward away from the bed and leaving a slime trail from between his legs.
That was when Joey remembered that he wasn't alone in bed. Well, it had really been a moment earlier when he attempted to jump out of bed and found that he was so deeply embedded on the rock-hard meat inside him that it would have been the same as moving a gargoyle off of a building: extremely difficult by yourself. Wait a second. GRAN-dad?!? Now what!?
He heard a very deep voice from behind him say, "Jared, you go off and play on the computer. See if you can hook up with that quarterback. You said he likes guys he can sink right in to." A meaty hand slapped Joey on the side that was lying up. It was like being hit with a block of wood it was so dense. "Me and my boy have to come to terms." Joey abruptly felt the massive meat inside him flex and he moaned in a teeth-grinding mix of pleasure and pain. Apparently Joey had underestimated the size; he distinctly felt something blunt strike the underside of his diaphragm. He had a vague idea of who had contributed to Jared's state of hole. Shit! This was not a good development at all. He was in Jared's nut house without the source and...
He suddenly froze, forgetting entirely about where he was or what was happening to him. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't even noticed. The source was gone! The source had gone for periods during the past day (had it really been only 24 or so hours? Incredible) without making sound, but there had always been a sort of sense of "presence" even in silence. Now it wasn't there, and a momentary call for the source to respond didn't even bring up the static that had driven Joey crazy for hours. Nothing.
{Joey?}
[Source?] Joey felt his own thoughts take on a quality like the source's "voice." [Where are you? Where am I?] There was another flex inside him and he winced. [And who is this guy?] He didn't mind per se, but did want to get his facts straight. That and maybe he could, you know, get to know him better, maybe have dinner or something and have the guy fuck him senseless for a day or two...
{In a moment, Joey. I think we need to compare notes...}
Joey did a small double take. What the hell did that mean. And the source usually always answered questions immediately anyway...
"Go on, Jared. If my boy's too tired to take you on, I'll punch you inside out later on. Let ol' Grandad take care of things here." Grandad then raised a very beefy arm and flexed it for emphasis. Joey could see that much behind him. This was not going to be pretty, Joey knew instinctively. He didn't think that he'd have much free time to seek out the source again until this guy had worn himself out, and from the feel of the hardness and the size of his equipment, Joey was likely to end up unable to walk for a couple of days. And given how extreme everything in Joey's life had become since the tobacco shop...
Jared looked uncertainly from one to the other, unconsciously fingering his hanging hole. It seemed to be a nervous habit. "R-right, Grandad," he said uncertainly. "I'll, uh, get on my Super Victor to warm up for you." He waddled out the door, glancing back at both of them as he went.
The big man let out a long breath. "That has got to be the worst acting job I've ever done in my life. But then, it's the only acting job I've done in my life." His deep voice dropped to almost below hearing, but Joey could still make out the words. "If you want to call it a life."
Joey took it for almost a minute before he almost yelled out, "Excuse me, I hate coyote mornings as much as most other guys, but would you mind explaining to me exactly who the hell you are and what the hell I'm doing here? I was...," he hesitated; there was no need to mention that he'd been talking to a disembodied voice about granting wishes, "talking with a very good friend and then all of a sudden I find myself waking up here!"
{Joey, please calm down. I don't want Jared to come back in here.}
Without thinking, Joey said the worst possible thing he could. [Source, shut up! I have to talk to this guy!] He realized he was being brusque and hated sounding that way to the source after the way Jared had treated it, but this really wasn't the time. "Now, look, I don't usually pick up guys and I..."
Joey had no idea what he said that instigated it, but he suddenly found himself almost yanked off the mammoth meat inside him and spun around. It was so abrupt that he distinctly felt his own rosebud get pulled out in rapid fire far beyond its normal range. "Don't you EVER speak to me that way again! EVER!"
Joey faced eyes that were blazing in anger. Literally. Joey froze in horror when he saw that the enormous man's eyes were glowing a hellish red. Joey realized with dread that he was in hell. He was really, truly in hell. He was trapped having sex with Jared and some incarnation of the Demon for eternity. He'd rather hoped that he would ascend, but obviously it was not meant to be.
"SHUT UP!" The man yelled into Joey's face so loud that his ears rang. "How do YOU like hearing it?! Huh? Tell ME to fucking shut up, you little shit! I'll teach you to fucking shut up when I want you shut up!" He lifted Joey up and shook him like a doll. Liberati mei, this fucker was strong! But Joey, although he admired the man's body and feats, was in mortal fear of his life. He hadn't said anything!
But Joey's head suddenly ringing wiped out this thought. The man had slapped him! Hard! There had been so much strength behind it that Joey almost felt whiplash. But there was more coming, which would make Joey seriously reconsider his hold on reality. "Please...," Joey said, in real pain. "What...?"
The man backhanded him across the face. "SHUT UP!" Joey went limp and fell off the bed facedown onto the floor. His strength was gone, and in this body, he had quite a bit to call on. Deity, forgive me my sins, he thought, beginning a catechism he learned as a child. Shelter me in your arms and bathe me in light. Bear me up to...
The breath was suddenly crushed out of him as the man suddenly landed square on his back. "I'll show you what you showed me all these years, you g'l d'hamm!" And with that, he penetrated Joey.
Joey's mouth opened in a scream that it never achieved because of the hand clamped over it. This wasn't a fantasy or a scene. It was rape, pure and simple. Joey had had rape fantasies, as not a few gay man did, but this wasn't at all like that. Despite the feeling of this strange man's incredibly large organ inside him, there was very little that was sexual about it. Joey felt, for the first time in his life, completely helpless and degraded. He felt the tears flow down his face a moment later. "Puh-puh-puh-puh-plee-ee-eee-uh-uh-uh-uh-zzz-zuh-zuh..."
"I'll... teach... you... about... pain... Jared!" the man screamed at Joey between brutal deep thrusts, his hands gouging into Joey's shoulders so hard that it almost felt like the blades were breaking. There was some incredibly receptiveness in this body, but every time the man touched bottom Joey had an odd feeling of pressure deep within him that didn't feel right. Jared? Jared just left the room, Joey thought dully, his mind shutting off its higher functions in order to protect his sanity. "I'll show you!"
It went on and on and very quickly Joey lost all sense of time. It could have been minutes, days, moments. He had no way of knowing. He got a queer disconnected feel to all of it, as though he were watching a brutal porn film. Yes, that was it. It wasn't really happening to him at all. He'd been dreaming all of this. He hadn't woken up here. He hadn't heard a voice in his head. He hadn't done anything at all. He was going to get up and go to work and say hello to Hermes on the way in and have a very dull day like he always did. Maybe go buy a pipe during his lunch break.
And with a feral roar, the swarthy behemoth riding him made a final deep thrust and shot. It was an impressive load too; it went on for a couple of minutes at least.
Then Joey felt the tear inside him.
There wasn't any pain. None at all. Just a feeling of, well, wrongness. Something inside him had separated and opened in a way that it shouldn't. How very strange, Joey thought, his mind already fading into darkness. How very odd. He reached back as best he could between the intermingling of bodies to feel some of the cum that was running out of his open hole and onto the floor between them. How warm and slick, he thought, bringing it up to his eyes.
And red. He'd never seen cum that was deep red before. Pretty.
The last thing he heard before he mercifully lost consciousness was the other man crying out "Joey!" How nice, Joey thought, he knows my name and I never told him. His only regret was that the source wasn't here and he missed... uh, it. He had no idea why. It just gave him a pang that the source wasn't there.
Then he was gone.
{My name is Va'al.}
In the darkness Joey heard a voice. He knew, somehow, that he wasn't awake, that he couldn't move or think, but there was a voice speaking. Not to him. Not to anyone. Just speaking.
And he heard a story. A story that the source had said that he didn't know...
The room was dark when Joey opened his eyes again and he was alone. At least he wasn't being raped.
He didn't move for a long time, trying to process what had happened. Like most people, he knew that wishes didn't really get granted, that you couldn't transform your body, and that 'sane' people didn't talk to voices in their heads, Joan of Arc notwithstanding. And yet here he was, wherever that happened to be.
{Joey.} The source's 'voice' was soft, almost a caress, but Joey could tell that they still weren't joined. That feeling of 'presence' was still absent. The source was somehow transmitting to him...
Joey felt an atypical surge of warmth at hearing the source's voice that had nothing to do with his relief at knowing it was still around. Strange... why would talking (thinking?) to the source make him feel so... well, good? It must be a side effect of the joining. {Are you recovered?}
Joey knew (somehow) he had the strength to speak but he didn't. After being violated not just by the huge dark stranger but also by simply being in Jared's presence, he felt no compunction to expend any unnecessary energy. [Define recovered.] He hadn't meant to sound so sarcastic, but... oh, wait, the source wouldn't know what happened, would, uh, it? [I'm sorry. Something...] He couldn't tell the source what had just happened to him. The source would be upset and Joey wanted to protect, um, its feelings. He blinked. What? Why should it matter?
But it did.
[Something bad just happened to me a little while ago. I, uh, fell. I'm okay now, don't worry.] His eyes narrowed. He did a quick mental inventory of his body, still not wanting to move, and discovered that it was indeed okay, in fact better than when he'd woken up earlier. He was completely healed. How could that happen if he wasn't actually joined with the source? [Where are you?]
"Joey, I think it's time that we had a talk." Joey froze in terror. The man was in the room! It was too dark to see where he was, but Joey knew that he was dead. He was naked, in a strange place, and recovering from being raped. He would never make it out the door alive, even if he could see where it was. "Relax, Joey. I won't... I won't hurt you. I just... lost control." There was a pause and a loud deep sigh. "It's been a long time since I had a..."
"Who are you?" Joey asked weakly, still not moving. The fear was thick in his voice and suddenly the trauma caught up with him all at once. The rape, the transformations, the change in reality... everything caught up with him at once and suddenly he started sobbing. "Why did you hurt me?"
{I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't mean to do that. You just said the wrong thing to me at the wrong time. I know you didn't mean it.} Joey was crying too hard at this point to realize the change in voices without the change in topic. {Joey...} The source sighed. {I'm going to turn on the light now, Joey. Please don't panic.} And obediently the light switched on.
Joey didn't panic. The word panic isn't strong enough to describe what he felt at that moment. His eyes adjusted almost instantly to the light, strangely, and he saw a dark complected young man with an enormously large body standing next to his bed watching him intently. "It's all right, Joey," the man said simply. The fact that he was clothed helped Joey to a degree for some reason, but it was a raindrop in the ocean for the good it did. "Now it's time to talk." He sat down in a chair (it was oversized but tiny compared to the amount of bulk the man carried) and leaned forward. "Joey, I did ask you to not panic."
Joey stopped in mid-sob, looking puzzled. Blinking, he cleared his throat and said, "What did you say?" How did he know...? He turned his head slowly to look the big stranger in the eye, which he really didn't want to do. His mouth opened slowly in wonderment.
The man didn't answer. He just looked at Joey a moment longer and then looked to his right at the unoccupied space of carpeting next to him. Then he reached a beefy arm toward it, pointed to a certain spot, and lifted his arm upward. From the point he had indicated on upward, a trophy started appearing, inch by inch, as it slowly came into being. Joey knew instinctively what it was, how it would appear when it was completed, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the object appearing in front of him. He knew when it was done, it would be four feet tall, have a small golden man with a heavy barbell in a completed deadlift pose at the top, and the small plaque would say FIRST PLACE HEAVYWEIGHT.
And when it had indeed appeared exactly the way Joey remembered it looking in his apartment on 'the morning after,' the man turned back to him. "Surprise." And he smiled a rueful smile.
Joey felt the tenuous grip on reality start sliding away again. "Suh-suh-suh source?" He was relieved and terrified and afraid and so happy that he couldn't stand it and...
Uh oh, he thought, dismayed. He recognized the feeling of the particular kind of happiness he was feeling and knew that there was trouble brewing. Better to keep that under wraps.
"How... I mean, you, you don't have a body!" It really was a tacky thing to say but he might as well be expedient about it. "Is this... I mean, how, why...?" He had several hundred questions all occur to him at once and knew that he wouldn't be able to ask even one.
The man gave a very dry look. "Why, no, Joey, as a matter of fact I don't have a body. I haven't had a body for over 10,000...," he frowned suddenly, looking startled, "... years." He looked extremely disturbed. "But now I do."
Joey said without thinking, "Ten thousand five hundred." Wait. That was... his mind was weaving in and out of awareness, but there was a story inside him, engraved in stone, but the stone was covered by a layer of sand and couldn't be read.
But the wind was starting to blow...
The man - the source! - looked shocked. "How did you know that?" He blinked and looked as though he was thinking of something, and then said, "That's... that's right. How could you possibly know that?" He looked stunned and leaned backward into the chair. It gave a small groan under his weight. "How do *I* know that? I have no memories of my creation!"
Joey struggled upward against gravity. He had strength and wasn't tired, but he had a mental bog to work out of. "Yes, you do," he said thickly, struggling to remember. The source said that he, uh, it, uh... whatever... He shook it off, trying to focus. There was something he had heard that was just beyond his recollection...
But a slightly more important issue reared its ugly head as he moved. He still had the ghost feeling of being invaded and as he shifted he felt a small twinge inside, and even though it had slipped from the forefront of his mind, suddenly it was right back again. No. Oh, no, no, no, no...
The source had raped him unmercifully and very nearly killed him. The source! He was so emotionally hurt by that thought that he wanted to start crying again. Oh please, don't let me start feeling what I'm feeling... "You hurt me," Joey said suddenly, starting to curl up again. "You hurt me you hurt me you hurt me..."
"Joey!" the large man said, reaching toward him. Joey gave a small cry and recoiled from the approach. The man stopped when he saw the reaction and withdrew his hand, looking extremely hurt. He gave another deep sigh. "Oh, Gn'Hae'Shaa. Joey, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. You of all people." In his own dark eyes tears started welling up. "You...," he started to choke up, "You told me to shut up." Tears started coming down. "That's all Jared did to me, and then he'd... he'd hurt me, Joey. He hurt me in ways that..." He looked away at a dark corner of the room. "You have no idea, Joey, the spiritual anguish he put me through every day since he found the Jar. When I suddenly found myself... corporate... again, in this very strong body, and you said... that, something... something happened. I lost control. I wanted to hurt Jared for hurting me and I couldn't even tell it was you."
Joey felt his terror and hurt start to fade. It didn't go entirely, but enough that he believed the source implicitly. Enough that he wanted to reach out and hold him.
Uh oh.
"I've had to exist under certain restrictions, Joey, as the entity that I am," the now-human source continued. "I have to answer truthfully any question. I am forbidden to execute violent actions or thoughts on my Host even in self-defense. I'm locked in the structure of the Jar until my next Host claims the vessel, and I revert there when that Host dies or relinquishes our joining. Incidentally, relinquishing doesn't happen very often. Remember they've all been power hungry. Once you've got power you don't want to give it up." He shook his head, on a neck that looked like a tree trunk. "But I'm free. I'm not bound to the Jar and I'm not locked in someone's head. I'm a free agent, I still have the granting, and I no longer have those restrictions. Unfortunately, that means that I can lose control like that now and that is not a good thing at all."
Joey simply lay there, staring at the man. What was he supposed to say here? He couldn't just forgive and forget. Or could he? "Look... source... I can't say that I'm not very upset right now, because I am, but I think I understand. I can't even begin to imagine what existence has been for you for these centuries." The man nodded, unable to return the look. "Can you... make me forget this happened?" He didn't like forgetting at all. His memories were what made him what he is, and especially since he now had two timelines' worth of memories to sift through. He'd been too busy to sit down and do that. But if it meant that things would be easier...
The man suddenly whipped his head around fast enough to make Joey start. "No! I refuse!" he said vehemently. "Joey, that would be almost as bad as what I did! If I make you forget then that's rape in itself!"
"Not if it's consensual."
The man's mouth dropped open. "Joey, do you have any idea what you're saying? Your thoughts aren't self-evident to me any more since we're not really joined, but I heard that one just now. You don't want to forget. *I* don't want you to forget. I like you, bumps and bruises and all, even if you... even if you hate me." He dropped his head to stare at the floor, ashamed.
Joey thought about what to say and realized that he didn't have anything to say at all. The source was right. But Joey wanted to make... had to ask the body's name... the source less upset about it. "I don't hate you, source! I love you!"
They both came to a complete stop.
Joey was left lying there, his mouth hanging open, and the look was evenly reflected on the source's face. Oh, no. This was even worse. This was **MUCH** more complicated. "Um..." Joey started to say, no idea where he was going, "I mean, uh, that is, I, uh, admire you, um, greatly, and, and, uh, well, that is, we've been very, very close, I mean, not close like, well, I mean, we *have* been close, but I mean with the, uh..."
The enormous man in front of him simply leaned forward, took Joey's chin in his hand, and gave a long, deep, passionate kiss. Joey only shuddered slightly as he felt the man take charge of him, the fear and hurt warring with burgeoning love and passion. But he didn't pull away. He felt himself melting and not caring one bit.
"I love you," the man whispered hoarsely, holding his head close. Joey felt a burst of heat inside him. This was definitely not the way he had expected the day to go but he certainly had no complaints. "I knew it the moment you appeared in the bar that night. People have a soul aura, you know, Joey. It can be any color, texture, or shape, but everyone has one. Sometimes they're bright and sometimes they're dark, but most often they're just sort of... well, neutral. That's because most people don't lean strongly in a positive or negative way." He pulled back a bit. "That isn't to say that people can't be good or bad, it just means that their spiritual energy isn't that extreme."
Joey gave an unpleasant start as he looked in the source's eyes. They were sparkling. Literally. He made a supreme effort to not shudder. It should have been romantic and moving, but it brought too much memory of the earlier events. The love didn't fade, but his fear suddenly increased sharply.
"That isn't to say that they never go that extreme though," the source continued. "Sometimes they're very dark. Jared is very dark. Now, keep in mind, a person's energy can be very dark and still not be evil. There's a difference. Someone with very light energy can be as evil as Torquemada." He shook his head. "I can't explain better than that. What I mean is, Jared isn't evil. He's just very dark. And amoral, like I said earlier. Joey, I saw you and... you're so *bright*, Joey! You're blinding to look at! And you're so sweet and kind and thoughtful and you like to talk to me, and your wishes are so much fun and... and... uh..." Suddenly the source trailed off and withdrew, looking very much like he wanted to disappear. Come to think of it, he could.
Joey was at a loss. What exactly was happening? He'd fallen in love with... He'd been hurt by... He'd been manipulated by... He'd been tricked by... what in the hell was going to happen now?
"I'm, uh, sorry about that," the source said, looking mortally embarrassed. He was far too big to actually shrink in to himself, but he made a very good approach. "I've, well, I've never been in love before." He suddenly looked panic-stricken. "I didn't mean that! I mean, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I mean, love is, well, that is, there are all kinds of love..."
"Source."
"Um, right."
Joey sat up. "We've got a problem." He barked out a laugh. "Just one, of course," he added sardonically. "Suh..." he trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "Does your body have a name, by any chance?"
The source raised a meaty paw and ran it through his thick, dark hair. "Hmm... good question. I've been too busy to find out." He looked thoughtful for a second. "Joey, do you have a feeling like there's something right behind you but when you turn your head you can't see it?"
Joey frowned. "I hadn't noticed until now, but yes, there is. Why? Is it important?"
"I'm not sure. It's like a feeling of presence, but not exactly. Like I'm standing in front of myself. How very odd."
Before the source could continue on this extraneous thought - despite the fact that Joey was the one who had started it - Joey continued. "To be honest, I really couldn't care less about that." Although it was annoying now that he was aware of it. "It's you. I have a problem with you." He stood up. "Yes, I love you. I've been involved before, but I've never had a feeling like this either." His eyes unfocused, but they were intent nonetheless. "And I can't abide the thought of you touching me." Joey felt a stab in his heart when he saw the hurt look on the source's face. "I'm sorry. I don't ever want to be touched again." And he abruptly burst into tears, hiding his face in his hands. Oh, yes, he did jump topics all right.
That's all he did for a long time, just cry and cry and cry. He'd never been hurt like this before. He was trying to make it just go away, and every other minute he was fine and then it was back and... and and and. And nothing. He'd been right all along. He was in hell. It wasn't fair! It wasn't supposed to be like this. Things like this happened to other people, not him.
Oh, yeah, how about a bit of self-pity and "why not me" thrown in for good measure? He hated feeling sorry for himself but it was too easy.
The man/source stared at him for a very, very long time without speaking. The look in his eyes was plain enough: dismayed horror. Then he closed his eyes and said, "No. I've done that to too many people. Modified memories, I mean." He looked chagrined. "Those three guys notwithstanding. They didn't lose anything; they gained quite a bit. No, Joey. Forgetting is wrong. I refuse to do that to you." He opened his eyes again and stared at Joey very intently. Joey started back at the two mingled looks in the man's eyes: determination and regret. "There's only one solution that will make things even between us." He again moved his hand toward Joey, and Joey felt himself recoiling again, expecting to be hit. "Close your eyes, Joey. It'll be less disconcerting that way." Joey had to force himself, but he did it. Then the human source's hand was covering them. "This is the only way, Joey. Trust me."
Joey did and Like he remembered two opposing stories I am the source That's an interesting question He wants to get you in bed Where the hell have you been The schism seems worse All I said was I'm sorry They sometimes had ghost memories You're not like Jared Reprehensible acts Life wasn't that kind Let's call it a symbiont He almost remembers His name is Joey Instead of letting me stumble around It was so alien I can see that goofball Swarthy behemoth He couldn't... he... couldn't... hhhhheeeeeee... cccccoooouuuuulllllddddnnnn'ttttt...
And when he opened his eyes, he was looking at a dark hand that was covering his own eyes, but they were on someone else's body...
Joey very nearly fell on his ass jerking back so quickly. His body was suddenly much bigger and his center of gravity was off. And his hands didn't look right. And he was looking at himself lying on the bed, or a very close approximation of himself...
It was bigger, but that was hardly a surprise, considering all the changes he had gone through, but that wasn't it... it was subtly different in many ways. The creases around the eyes were more pronounced, not like he was older but like he'd had more physical activity in the sun, and his hips were wider and he had a very round and very firm beach ball belly but his ribcage was bigger enough that it balanced out, and his hands were bigger and he had less scalp hair by far, in an advanced male baldness pattern, but it was Joey on the bed. And it was Joey standing staring at it from a very high level.
And the Joey on the bed opened his eyes and said, "This is the only way, Joey."
"What did you do to me?" Joey (?) yelled, and jumped at the sound of his voice. It was the sound of... the human source? "What...? I...! My...?!" And when he brought his hand up to put on his throat, it was bigger, dark, and not his hand.
Joey looked at Joey, and the Joey that Joey saw looking at Joey (are you lost yet?) said, "You like transformation stories, Joey. You should be used to body switching by now."
"That was only after you came along," Joey said, annoyed. Well, it *had* been after that night that he'd discovered those TF sites in his browser. The fact that they'd been there before he bought that pipe was neither here nor there. "Vr'desh'ii, source, you could have bloody warned me."
The source in Joey's body did a double-take and said, "How do you know that expression?" He paused and said, "It means, anomalous reading. Whatever that means."
Joey in the source's body (wait a minute, where had the body come from? And why hadn't he wondered about that before?) narrowed his eyes, thinking. He almost... "It's the last thing that registered in your vimana before the..." It was gone. For a moment, he'd remembered something... but it wasn't his memory.
Joey/source said slowly, "Joey... please tell me what a vimana is." It wasn't a question, more like to verify something already known.
That word... "Well, it's..." Hm... Joey had heard or read it somewhere before. Something he'd read a long time ago, way back in college - elephants catching fire? What? - but he couldn't quite... argh! "I don't care what a vimana is!" he said irritably. "Why did you switch us? HOW did you switch us?"
"Oh, yes, that," the source/Joey said, obviously not wanting to change the topic. "Joey, you ought to know by now that I can do anything. The limitations I had before were on me, not the granting." Joey didn't quite agree with that. He distinctly remembered wishes he'd made not getting fulfilled.
The source, getting to its (well, Joey's) feet, continued. "I suppose I should be a bit more solemn and serious about this. You won't like this. I know you." He unfocused a little and said, "Oh, no, you're not going to like this." He drew up to his full height (Joey blinked a little, realizing how short his own body really was by comparison) and said very seriously, "You're going to rape me."
Joey stood blinking for a few moments, not sure what he had really heard, and when he *was* sure he waited for the punchline. "What?"
"I want you to give me what I gave you, Joey. If I don't do it now, you'll never trust me or let me touch you ever again." He moved a hand as if to touch Joey on the head. Joey, in the source's new body, flinched away as though afraid of being hit. "You see? It's the only way to make things equal between us again."
"You're insane."
"If you'd been through what I'd been, you'd..." he trailed off and then shook his head. "Why do you do such a good job of distracting me?"
"Call it self-defense. I am not going to rape you."
The Joey-source sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, Joey, but you leave me no choice." He leaned in sharply and the source-Joey leaned back in surprise even though he outweighed his old body by a good bit. There was an odd flash in the source's (Joey's) eyes. "Feel."
Suddenly Joey was blind with fury. "FUCK YOU!" he screamed at his own body, and punched it square in the chest. The sheer power behind the punch was so great that the source was propelled off of his feet and flew backwards practically over the bed. There was a thump as he landed, the air knocked out of him.
Joey was there practically as he landed, grabbing his own (previous) arm painfully and yanking upward. The source yelled. "How DARE you manipulate me like this? You burning piece of shit!" He slapped the dangling Joey-body, getting another yelp and a sob. "You don't deserve my dick in your tiny ass!" He was very close to breaking the man's back over his knee.
Moaning in pain and fear, the voice was very nearly unintelligible. "I, I, I, no, I, can't, don't, I'm sorry, I didn't..." He was babbling, agony mixing with fright, his (its?) thoughts awhirl. I created a monster, the source thought dully. I deserve it. For all the lives I destroyed, for all the reality reshaped due to my meddling... and for the loss of the one I love more than life itself due to my own lack of control. Of course, he didn't really have a life anyway so it doesn't matter. The source had a brief image of himself dying a natural death, and Joey having a much better life without him. As long as Joey was happy it didn't matter.
Joey hauled his own body over his knee, face-down. "You slime! Always have to have your own way, don't you? Just like a baby. Well, baby-face, I'll punish you like the brat you are." And he walloped the source's (Joey)'s ass, over and over. The source let out a series of cries, louder and louder, until they all blended together in a mélange of moaning agony.
Joey, fireblind with fury, found cruel pleasure in watching the ass that had previously been his turn from a bright red to an almost black purple. The source had... it had... even in the midst of the abuse, his eyes drew down in puzzlement. What exactly had it done to make him so angry? But he was so angry that it didn't matter.
Abruptly he shoved the man off of his lap and onto the floor, leaping to his feet. The feeling wouldn't go away! "Damn you!" he screamed at the prone, shaking man on the floor. "What did you do to me?!" He simply didn't have the mental strength to fight off the overwhelming sensation of absolute fury.
The man tried to answer but was crying too hard. "Juh- juh- Joey, I..." was as far as he got any one time.
"FIX IT!" Joey screamed at the man. "PUT ME BACK!" He had to get rid of this! With a feral roar, he abruptly swung around and punched the nearest thing to him. The wall.
It was quite fortunate that the wall led into another open space, not brick, because the punch went right through both layers of sheetrock like paper. Joey flexed his hand searching for damage, but the bones were like steel. Where had this body come from?!
{I can't.} The source's mental "voice" was nearly as frantic as the physical one had been. {You have to finish what you started. I set it up that way.}
Joey felt a surge of anger over what he already had simmering and recognized it as one of his own. To be forced to...! "All right, damn you," he said fiercely, pulling his hand (and a good deal of wall) back. [I'll give you what you want.] He roughly shook off the debris clinging to him and strode over to the shaking form.
The penetration happened before Joey was even aware of it. One moment he was looking down and the next he was looking down at a body being brutally fucked. By him. By an enormous organ that superhumanly large and potent. And he felt what had been his own body prove that it was physically unable to accommodate him. The marble-hard shaft was even further stretching out the already loose muscles, and he was pushing aside bends and turns inside that weren't designed to move. Not gently. Was this how it felt for the...?
Suddenly Joey understood. He was still a furious, wild-running piston engine brutally abusing someone (something?) he cared for very much... and he finally understood what it felt like from the other side, to lose control and identity in a red haze of emotion, destroying the one thing he wanted to protect. The hurt... It didn't go away exactly, but...?
Then Joey felt the tear. Something inside had separated and opened in a way that it shouldn't. [How very strange.] Joey's thoughts overlapped those of the source's. {How very strange.} Joey felt himself losing steam, blowing breath in and out like a bellows, shock overwhelming his furious lust. "Source!" Joey yelled, feeling his consciousness fragmenting...
Then the world sank into darkness.
To be continued