It had been ten days. The longest ten of Sam’s life, but still, just ten. He was slightly embarrassed to be walking dark alleys because of it, but he needed a fix. Badly.
The worst of it was over. He wasn’t fidgeting anymore, he could sleep easier, and he could feel good about sex again. Well, good enough. Freak Juice had a way of getting into your system and staying with you for days. It was hard to go off of it and feel like you were really living.
For many, it was like being forced to go from seeing the world in full color back to black and white. But it happened. Inevitably. As good as the stuff was, it wasn’t easy to come by. That’s part of what made it appealing. Trying something dangerous and rare, feeling something you know few others would ever know.
For Sam, it was better than just being high. It was somehow being more. More attractive, more powerful, more confident. Being on Freak Juice made sex like an hour long orgasm, only stopping when the final blow was enough to nearly knock you out. He felt his muscles grow strong, his attention heightened, and he swore it even made his dick bigger.
It wasn’t like smoking pot or anything else, it’d didn’t bring you down or leave you feeling like crap afterward. That is, until you became desperate to feel it again, knowing that living without it was like sleepwalking.
But for ten days, Sam managed to cope with just being as he was. His attempts to get more were shot down at every turn. Many were too scared to sell it, even if they knew where to find it. Most tried not to think of what it was at all, sticking to the regular domestic wares.
Sam didn’t care. Hell, it even intrigued him. Prometheans were still very new to him. He’d never seen one, but he knew they were out there. And the stuff that spewed from their loins was potent. So potent that just smelling the stuff was enough to drive a man wild.
That’s how he ended up in that dark alley…
Earlier that day, Sam had gone into the office as normal, finally able to calmly get through his job and focus on his work. He even toyed with the idea of giving up the stuff for good, realizing the steep price that came for feeling superhuman. He was deep into the peaceful mundanity of his routine when it hit him: that scent. That Freak Juice scent.
It wasn’t a strong smell, but it had a powerful effect. The subtle blend of foreign pheromones and proteins was only ever really detected by the way it could incite intense lust, though the scent itself was unmistakable to anyone who’d used it before.
Like a wild dog, Sam looked around his office, searching for the source, until he found his coworker sipping it out of a small container. His colleague was heading into the bathroom, clearly trying to find himself a private moment to beat off while hypercharged. Sam, overcome with his withdrawal and desperation, followed him in.
Sam nearly wrestled the container out of the man’s hand, feeling the man’s throbbing erection as his body pressed against his. To Sam’s dismay, he saw only a painful emptiness. Gone. It was all gone. The scent lingered on the plastic for just a moment, but Sam knew it would be gone from his nostrils before too long.
Sam slumped into a stall, shocked and ashamed by his sudden and uncontrollable hunger. Meanwhile, his companion took the neighboring stall and proceeded to pleasure himself like a wild beast.
At the end of the day, the two shared an awkward glance. The colleague grabbed his coat and started to head out, but then paused and turned back to Sam.
“Hey… I know what it’s like,” the coworker said, whispering to Sam with a tone of empathy. “There’s a place where you can get it. Just… you have to keep it secret. Don’t tell them I sent you.”
Sam nearly jumped across his desk and kissed him. Finally! A supplier! He barely managed to focus long enough to finish his work, grabbed his coat, and headed out.
He didn’t go home. He just walked through the city, hoping to kill time. He stopped by an ATM and pulled out some cash. He was told where to go and that to come under the cover of darkness. But mostly importantly, to bring cash. A lot. The place wasn’t marked, but he was told that if he followed the instructions correctly, he’d find it.
Hours went by as the city passed into night. The oddly green, LED glow of the street lights caused his shadow to follow around him as he moved by them, making him question whether or not he should head back and forget it. He didn’t know if he wanted to go down this road again… but his feet kept walking.
Before long, he came across the unmarked door his coworker described. No sign, no one standing out. He took a deep breath, realizing he knew nothing about this place or what was behind the door. But his fear didn’t stop him. He looked around to make sure no one was following him and he stepped inside.
He moved from the threshold and down into a basement level unit. The lights were all red, giving the place a truly infernal atmosphere. The air was even thick and hot with only the breeze from the door closing behind him swirling in and mixing it around. As he went further in, he came into a big, ornately decorated room, covered in cascading drapes and ropes, velvet couches scattered about, covered in the most attractive, naked men he’d ever seen.
Is this hell? he thought for a moment. As he looked around, he saw the handsome men touching each other, stroking each other’s cocks, all looking at him enticingly and invitingly. He put it together and realized what this was.
A young man came up to him wearing nothing but a red dog collar and a jock strap. He offered to show Sam around, an offer that Sam nearly took him up on. As hot as the guy was–as they all were–he wasn’t there to buy a date. He was there to score.
He didn’t want to say how he found the place, but he knew he’d have to talk to someone. He turned to the friendly hooker and asked, “I–I’m told you guys… sell stuff.”
Laughing, the hooker replied, “Haha, we prefer ‘rent,’ but sure.” He moved his narrow waist around a bit, showing off his bulging jock and firm, spherical ass. Sam looked away, trying not to go too far down the wrong path. He looked into the crowd and saw a handsome, muscular, blond man, sitting and watching him closely.
The stranger’s figure had the exception of being the only one in full clothes, covered by a tight black tank top and navy athletic shorts. He seemed to be the on running the place, as he wasn’t being propositioned by anyone around him. Nervous as hell, but determined to get what he came for, Sam walked over to him.
“Sorry, I’m not on the menu,” he said, pursing his lips as they held a cigarette.
“No, I’m looking for something else. Something… freaky.” Sam didn’t know how to ask for it. A part of him was still embarrassed with the lengths he was going. Part of him also know that this brothel was definitely not legal and that if anything happened, he was on his own.
The handsome man smiled and looked over to three studs, arms linked with each other, each stroking the other’s massive erection.
“My boys can be freaky if you want. Just depends on your tastes. And price.”
“That’s not it,” Sam said, frustrated and nervous. He paused to consider his next move, then decided to just take a breath and be brave. He leaned in and whispered to the man what he was looking for.
His eyebrows raised slightly, but not in offense. He looked at Sam with a bit of surprise and amusement, as if he wouldn’t have guessed a straight-laced looking guy like him was looking for something that extreme. Nevertheless, the guy nodded slightly, stood up, and walked out of the room.
Sam wasn’t sure where he was going, but saw him go through a door into a room with a dark blue glow. He expected the guy to come back with a bottle, maybe even just an eyedropper of the Freak Juice. He had no idea what he’d actually be served instead.
The pimp headed into the room and looked out onto a dark, ebony figure on a dirty mattress. He was completely naked, covered only by the red and blue lights that made his dark skin glisten. His young face turned to see the pimp come through the bright red light in the door. His eyes swelled with anxiety as the the older man’s presence obscured the colored lights. He knew what this meant: time to get to work.
“Hey Doug, you’ve got a customer,” the pimp said, taking a drag of his cigarette, staring intently at the young man. “He’s asked for it specifically.”
“I can’t do this,” Doug replied, resigned. “I can’t.”
Doug looked down, tired and broken. He didn’t want to be there, but he knew there wasn’t a place for him elsewhere. The world can be cruel and hard, especially to anyone different from them. He’d been given a place to stay and a way to make some money, but he knew it came at a cost. He had to give up his freedom and his dignity just to survive. It never got easier, but the work kept coming.
The pimp paused and looked at him. He eyed him up and down. He put the cigarette in his mouth and moved in toward him, stepping slowly, seeming to measure his steps. He bent down slightly and shared a hard look with Doug. Suddenly, without blinking or even breaking his stare, he reached out his big, muscular arm and began to choke Doug.
Doug was a high value asset to him. Not only was he a young, athletic, super hung stud, but he accounted for a good deal of his income. He couldn’t offer him to most of his clients, but those that did paid well. And came back. Often. As much as he enjoyed his prized pony, he didn’t accept disobedience. He had to show him who was in charge… and to get him ready for Sam.
Doug was well built, but very lean. His pimp had at least 80lbs on him, not to mention about 6” inches of height. The poor boy was thrust up off the ground, lifted to his feet as his employer savagely clenched his fist around his neck.
With the other hand, he pulled on his cock and balls, tugging at them with the same frequency and intensity with which one might milk a cow. It was degrading and humiliating. Doug choked to get air into his lungs, trying hard to fight off his oppressor. He knew he could attack him, but he knew the consequences of that would be even greater than if he was choked out. He tried to fight him off in a controlled manner, but this soon proved to be too much.
His instincts kicked in and he felt himself get angry. His heart raced as his breaths became fewer and harder. The pimps manipulation of his cock forced him into a state of arousal, only adding to his furious state. His mouth opened to steal some air, only to find himself overcome with a deeper aggression. With that, he felt his body shake and heat up, making him begin to sweat and ache. He knew what this was and that it was too late to stop it.
His mouth opened wider as he felt the splintering pressure behind his teeth. Their roots deepened into his skull as they extended down in length. He could feel strange, tickling sensation as his gums stretched and molded to fit their new, tapers fangs. A fire coursed in his mouth as if he’d taken a gulp of molten lava, spreading around to each exposed tooth.
He let out a breathless moan he felt the bones in his face quake and shift behind his skin. His nose pushed out, out from his face, scrunching up newly stretched skin as the structure extended into a bulbous, flat muzzle. His nostrils began to itch and reshape, pushing out long, wiry whiskers that caught the static in the air like a lightning rod. He felt the tip of his nose harden and compress, forming a rhinarium through which he could smell everything in the establishment… including the desperation in Sam’s sweat.
Doug’s ears pointed into an alert position, twisting the soft cartilage up and out, allowing him to hear further than before. He could even hear his pimp’s heart pounding beneath his hard chest, telling him the he was serious about getting what he wanted.
The pimp took his fingers and shoved them in Doug’s hole, lifting him up such that the boy sat on his hand and was locked in place. The intense penetration pushed a drop of precum out of the tip of his dick, permeating the air with its potent fragrance. As it continued to seep out, Doug felt a roar form deep within him.
He hated his pimp for what he was doing, but the transformation charged his body and made him feel incredible. The feeling of his body shifting was better than any sex he’d ever had, awakening his muscles and cells on an almost metaphysical level. He always loved the change, but now, he knew it to be the harbinger of his exploitation.
The pimp pulled his fingers out of his ass, throwing him down to the filthy mattress on the floor. A stream of pre-cum snapped in the air, breaking the connect between the boy’s cock and his pimp’s hand. The pimp licked the little bit off, feeling it give him the slightly bump of energy. He looked down at this feline possession, watching as Doug clung to the mattress and gasped deep for air.
Catching his breath and rubbing his fingers, the pimp looked up and said, “There’s my kitty cat. Now, play nice with this one. We want him to come back for more.”
Doug could have bitten the man’s face off, but then he’d just be another outcast promethean on the edge of society. He put himself together, trying to smooth out the creak in his neck from being manhandled and assaulted.
As he moved his hands over his body, he felt the long, massive cock he had nearly bursting out from his loins. He was well endowed normally, but in his animal state, it was nearly twice as large. His balls hung heavy between his long, muscular legs, surging promethean strength throughout his entire body.
His eyes pointed up as he heard steps coming closer. Sam’s shoes hit the hardwood floor differently than his pimp’s: softer, kinder, more unsure of himself. Doug’s nose raised to the air, smelling his body as it moved through the dense air. He could sense his anxiety and fear, but also his hunger. Sam needed him, he realized.
Doug positioned himself playfully on the mattress, presenting himself as his employer had told him to many times. Just as he settled his anger and faced the doorway, Sam stepped into the red light, casting his shadow over Doug’s naked, aroused body.
Sam stood in the doorway for about a full minute. He’d always known where Freak Juice came from, but he’d never seen a promethean in person. They weren’t the kind to advertise who they were, and to see one in their animal state was truly rare.
Sam was surprised how sexy he was. His body was lithe and agile, perfectly sculpted like a dancer. Doug’s body looked like it was made to move, to fuck, to pounce. He admired him, surprised how attracted he was to him.
As his eyes studied him, his nose soon caught up with what he was experiencing. Just like at work, he sensed the powerful liquid that strung from the tip of the cheetah-boy’s cock. The precum wasn’t enough to wet a Q-tip, but more than enough to excite Sam’s urges.
Sam’s mouth watered and his heart raced. He got a feeling of the high he’d felt before in the office, only somehow stronger and more immediate. He hadn’t even tasted anything, but it was like he’d taken a small dose. He realized that there must be something about it being fresh from the source that made even stronger than usual. His cock instantly got hard and his hands tensed, desperate for more.
Sam locked eyes with Doug, seeing his peculiar eyes catching the dim light from behind him. He saw them reflect back at him, mesmerizing him.
Sam reached into his back pocket, reaching for his wallet, stumbling to take out the cash he’d taken from the ATM. He didn’t know how much he had and he didn’t care. The cheetah-boy was a hooker so he would try and bargain, but in reality he knew he’d pay whatever it takes for a taste of the sexy boy’s pre-cum… and more and more, he felt the undeniable urge to fuck him as well.