The Wish 1*

By Pueros & Razor

Chapter 1 – Transformation

(Chicago, U.S.A., June 2001)

‘I’m going to call Karen,’ Paul told himself but, as customary, the exceedingly reserved boy did not act according to his desires and the real-life girl of his dreams, a fellow High School pupil, would remain unaware of his interest in her.

Paul was, as usual, alone in his pleasant apartment home. His mother was out and would yet again not be back until late. The lonely 15 years old ate a microwave meal, swilled down with Pepsi, before pursuing his favourite pastime, playing some games on his computer. He particularly liked those set in exotic fantasy worlds, full of strange people and creatures and weird rituals, where the hero had to undergo successfully many trials and tribulations in order to survive. They stimulated the teenager’s imagination and helped him to forget real life.

Paul’s loving father had died in a tragic road accident when the boy was only 5 years old. The shock had so traumatised the youngster that he had developed a very shy and reclusive character, rejecting all attempts to befriend him, as he could not bear to lose, for any reason, anyone so close again. He was therefore regarded as a loner at High School and even the bullies ignored him, although his hormones occasionally urged him to find female companionship.

Lanky hazel-eyed Paul was potentially handsome although, unusually for someone his age, he seemed to take no care in his appearance. The teenager kept himself clean but took no action about the youthful spots on his face and his mousy hair was always unkempt. He did not keep himself fit and his diet was poor. His clothing always trailed the latest fashions. It was as if he was deliberately trying to discourage any girls who might be interested in him, an attitude helped by a low libido for a 15 years old, satisfied by infrequent masturbation.

Tiredness eventually overcame Paul and he went to bed, dressed only in boxer shorts and with mind full of magical adventures in mystic lands. As always, he had resolved the usual difficulty that he found in contacting Karen by deciding that it was too late to call. He persuaded himself that perhaps he would ring tomorrow or, maybe, the day after that. His mind would not let him confront the fact that his natural timidity would never permit him to be so bold.

Paul looked up at a poster on the far wall of his room. It depicted a near-naked warrior facing, crouched and with sword in hand, an approaching tiger, which was ready to spring. The muscles of both the young man and beast rippled in anticipation of the clash that was only seconds away. At the hero’s feet was an incredibly buxom blonde, one of her bare breasts and full uncovered back and magnificently curvaceous bottom visible to the viewer. In the background were the rotund stands of the Roman Coliseum, with Caligula himself portrayed, eagerly awaiting the imminent bloody spectacle.

Paul wondered what kind of monster would delight in the killing of a girl, and not just any girl for he considered this one’s beauty to be perfect. Only the warrior, in his minuscule loincloth, stood between her and the great beast, and certain death.

Paul fantasised that the young man would save the girl by killing the tiger. Soldiers would then come to collect them and return them to their prison. However, after subsequent adventurous escape, she would give herself to him. The girl would ride on her rescuer’s giant cock and they would copulate deliriously until the Praetorians caught up with them. Then, it would all be repeated.

Paul longed to be the warrior, standing virtually nude, sword in hand, before thousands of bloodthirsty raucous spectators, defying their wishes to successfully protect the girl, that beautiful petrified, but also willing shameless and voluptuous, creature, from evil. As the boy masturbated himself, for the first time in a week, as he again looked jealously at the exotic and erotic picture, he wished that he could be a handsome young hero in such a setting.

(Another place)

The activity within the vast temple was concentrated on one spot. A large rectangular stone vat, much hidden by the swirls of white vapour that emerged from inside, was located before the high altar and surrounded by priests, attired only in leather skirts and large gold medallions displaying an erect phallus. The men, all around 30 years of age, were pulling on eight chains linked via pulleys above to something within the vat. They heaved with all their might and very slowly a big stone slab rose from the mists. On top was the body of a beautiful naked youth, aged about 15.

The rectangular stone slab was eventually carefully manoeuvred onto a similarly-shaped plinth in front of the high altar, itself adorned with a massive golden erect phallus. The high priest, who had not been involved in hoisting the body to the required location and who was dressed in a red skirt, stepped forward. He began a lengthy loud incantation, invoking an appropriate young essence to inhabit the living and perfect but soulless young body before him, created over many years within the vat. The impeccable male form was an empty shell that needed a vibrant young spirit to instil it with youthful vigour so that the rites might be completed!

“Oh Great Kaluuth, I beseech you, send forth the soul and fill this empty body with life!” the high priest chanted whilst sprinkling incense on the naked quiescent smooth form. “Send forth the soul so that I may complete the commission!” he continued whilst his chants became louder and louder, until the great god seemingly heard his call and the eyes below flickered open to reveal sensuous blue pupils and life.

Paul looked at the strange man and then around the cavernous domed structure. This was a dream. It had to be. What else could it be? He was sure that it was as raised his head for a better view of the immense mosaic-covered area to the right of where he lay, empty apart from some men in brown skirts. The boy saw erect phallic symbols everywhere, on the ceiling and walls, within the floor mosaic and on jewellery, with the large free-standing elevated gold edifice to the left of him particularly prominent. However, it was when he looked down his own body that he observed the most impressive phallus of all.

Paul did not recognise his own body for it was now completely smooth and unblemished, with not a hair or mark to be seen anywhere. There was also no sign of any of the fat that he had recently put on through over-indulgence with fast food and cookies. Instead, his limbs and torso were lithe, perfectly proportioned and strong without being overtly muscular. He also seemed to have developed a uniform light tan. However, it was the sight of his rapidly hardening cock, now no longer displaying any pubic hair whatsoever, that most amazed the 15 years old.

For a start, Paul noticed that his penis was no longer circumcised but sported a generous amount of foreskin that still covered most of his cockhead when fully erect, which it quickly became. The boy also saw that his hardened member was now much longer than before and proportionately thicker, and that the orbs of his ball sac were considerably more prominent than previously.

Paul tried to move but found that his ankles had been tightly bound by wide leather straps to the cool stone surface of the slab on which he lay, so that his legs were wide apart, and that his wrists were similarly fixed at his sides. Having taken the erotic scene in, the boy closed his eyes, recognising that when he woke up he would have to change his boxer shorts as he must be experiencing a wet dream. However, the teenager was encouraged to open his eyelids again when he felt oil being gently applied to his genitals.

Paul now saw two young beautiful topless females standing next to him, on the same side as the gold phallic edifice. One wore a short white skirt and appeared to be about his own age whereas the other was older and wore red. Both possessed gold medallions with bejewelled tiaras in their flowing dark hair. Their unparalleled loveliness seemed almost surreal, with features more exquisite and bodies more perfect than that of any girl the 15 years old had ever seen in his waking life. It was as if they had stepped out of the cover of a paperback fantasy novel.

Paul did not yet appreciate that he too boasted similar, albeit shorter and now golden, silky locks, as well as blue instead of hazel eyes and the face of a young Adonis rather than that of a plain spotty teen. He also did not know that the younger girl was the sacred masturbatrix, who served as an acolyte for the older, who was holding a sharp razor with ornate handle exhibiting the phallic symbol. The former was to make the 15 years old boy come to the verge of producing his first and last revered cum before moving aside to let the latter, the sacred castratix, fulfil her function.

Having covered Paul’s intensely excited genitals with the sacred oil, so that the cock and ball sac glistened within the light of the many torches that illuminated the temple, the white-skirted masturbatrix began to pump the boy’s erection slowly and rhythmically with her right hand wrapped round the rigid member. As the girl stroked the full length of the boy’s erection, she massaged the teen’s full scrotum with her left.

“Oh….God, ooh……..God, ooooh…………God,” the 15 years old gasped repeatedly in awed delight as pleasurable sensations flowed through him. These were intensified by the wondrous sight of the lovely girl’s firm breasts, still developing but nevertheless wonderfully fulsome and alluringly oiled with nipples gilded, dangling erotically just above him. Paul felt a throbbing and hardness between his legs of a strength that he had never before experienced, his cock resembling a vibrating red-hot iron bar.

The boy moaned and writhed against the constraints of his firm bondage. If this was a dream, it was the most delightfully realistic one he had ever had as he was speedily brought towards the brink of a powerful climax. His whole being vibrated before becoming strained as the masturbatrix took him to the very edge of explosive ejaculation.

Paul’s genitalia, already leaking copious amounts of precum, felt like a dam ready to burst, the apparent pressure within incredible. However, sensing how close the boy now was, the masturbatrix slowed her rubbing, skilfully holding him torturously at this tormenting plateau. Finally, she stopped altogether, stepping back to leave the rampant precum-covered pulsing penile edifice entirely unattended.

“Please, don’t stop!” Paul begged loudly and desperately several times, tears of frustration forming in his gorgeous blue eyes. However, no-one moved for a while as everyone took time to enjoy the spectacle of the beseeching boy and his magnificent but frustrated cock, pounding vigorously in rhythm with his heartbeat. It was the red-skirted castratix, carrying the razor, who eventually responded to the 15 years old’s frantic pleading by moving up to assume the careful stroking.

Paul returned to his delirium of delight as the young castratix, her own substantial breasts oiled and gilded, at last stepped up and brought him towards his much-desired orgasm. However, the boy’s acute happiness, at the return of the sublime manual attentions, was reduced a little by sudden puzzlement when, as the priestess massaged his rampant cock in her left hand, he felt her use her right hand to introduce her blade to the middle of his substantial ball sac. The 15 years old, on the brink of his much wanted and overdue orgasm, then suddenly realised what was about to happen and did not like the direction in which his wet dream was going.

(Chicago, U.S.A., same time)

Paul’s mother was surprised that her son had not emerged for breakfast and so she went to rouse the boy from his slumber.

“Wake up, please wake up!” she later begged frantically, as she shook her offspring’s body, but there was not the slightest hint of response.

(Chicago, U.S.A., 2 hours later)

“I’m afraid that’s not going to help,” the doctor said as he pulled the mother back from her son’s hospital bed, after the woman had tried desperately once more to revive the teenager. Paul had been in a comatose state since she had been unable to wake him at home that morning. The lad was in an intensive care unit at the local hospital, with tubes emerging from various parts of his anatomy.

“What is it?” she cried, turning to the doctor, “why won’t he wake up?” “We just don’t know,” the physician replied, whilst shaking his head, “but his body seems to be working perfectly. We can’t find any sign of illness or substance abuse. As far as we can tell, this coma is completely inexplicable.” “Can’t anything be done?” entreated the woman. “We can do nothing,” the man responded, “except wait and pray!”

(Another place)

“Now, divinity,” the castratrix suddenly declared, as Paul felt the menacing razor cautiously trace a deeply disturbing path along his ball sac until its cold steel pressed against the thick base of his cock, “you will erupt your sacred seed like a great stallion!” The boy somehow understood the woman’s words even though he knew that she had not spoken English but rather another strange tongue. He had also, despite his firm bondage, somehow lifted his bottom from the cool stone slab on which he lay, seemingly as a gesture to raise and offer his boyhood to the giver of so much pleasure, to do whatever she wanted. The 15 years old now understood what was going to happen after he complied with the priestess’ instruction and sucked in his breath. He was scared at the thought of being converted from a stallion into a gelding but his fear was tempered somewhat by the knowledge that none of this was real.

Paul’s whole body suddenly vibrated, within the confines of his tight restraints, before becoming taut as the castratix encouraged the boy’s cock to turn into a fountain, spurting stream after stream of creamy white liquid high into the air before descending to splash the young divinity’s head and torso. The priestess was now ready to perform her penultimate task with her blade before concluding by gathering up the sacred product.

Paul, delectable form still quivering in heavenly delirium, having just experienced an ecstatic intensity never previously encountered, had not yet realised that the splendid body and apparently surreal world in which he now existed were not part of his imagination, for his wish had come true.

(To be continued in chapter 2 – ‘Plains’)