Quietly, I clutch the knob and twist it. The door to my bedroom opens with a groan. I step into the hallway and tiptoe toward the living room, careful to avoid waking my parents.
As I pass their door, I notice it is cracked open. I steal a glance inside, ensuring my parents are fast asleep. Thankfully they are— my dad cradling my slumbering mother in his arms.
I should correct myself. I call them my parents at their request. After my parents died, I was moved from home to home. Now that we’re marking our third Christmas together, I am trying on the words ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ for now.
Pulling myself away, I continue my travels.
"Don't peek!" my new mother's voice echoed in my head. She knew I tended to sneak presents early, so my efforts this year were especially daring. As I would be heading off to college soon, this would be my last Christmas at home. Why spoil the tradition now?
I entered the living room. A brilliant gradient of orange and purple flooded the apartment. The neon lights outside of our building always bothered my parents, but I felt it gave the place character.
Now, however, it gave our Christmas tree a sinister glow. My eyes flicked down to the sea of presents and landed on the largest one. This box was almost taller than the tree!
Adrenaline pumping, I check the tag. ‘For Dad'. Of course! He always gets the best stuff.
I turn and begin burrowing through the boxes. I shake this and that, searching for something that doesn’t rattle. Something expensive. Something electronic.
"Aha!" I cry as I shake a box about the size of a laptop, packed tight. Feeling victorious, I take a step backward onto another present. My foot slides on the box, and I fall into the giant gift, which, like a mighty redwood in the forest, topples with a loud thud.
TIMBER!
But not only does it fall - not with my luck - an edge of the wrapping paper catches the blinds, and it topples with a RIIIIP!
My chest pounds as I stand frozen over the mess. This will take some fixing. I start across the room to fetch some tape, but notice the label on the box...
DREAM DATE.
I climb on top of the ruined present, pulling back a scrap of wrapping paper. I scan the label:
MODEL:
INDIAN HEARTTHROB
BODY TYPE:
MUSCLEBOUND (EXTREME), 10” TOOL
KNOWLEDGEBASE: 120 POSITIONS
STRENGTH: 500 LBS
I tug the heavy box into the middle of the room. Minutes pass as I stare at it, curiosity eating away at me.
Unable to restrain myself, I yank the remaining paper away. A discrete brown box hides underneath. Aside from the label, there is nothing else to identify the contents. I slide a fingernail across the tape, opening the package.
Amongst a sea of packing peanuts, I spot... A hand. It's brown and oversized, belonging to a man. A loud gasp escapes my mouth. Is it... a mannequin? A dead body?
I know what you’re thinking. A dead body? Really? But hey... what else could it be?
Gathering my bravery, I scoop out the peanuts and let them scatter on the floor revealing...
Or a better joke... a North Pole that I would love to ride.
Now I’m just distracting myself.
I run a hand across the soft skin on his abdomen, then over the tightly wound mounds of muscle on his chest. His expression is blank, but his gymrat physique looks ready to pounce on me. I definitely would not complain.
I snap my fingers in front of his eyes. No reaction. Judging by the label, he must be a sex doll. Kinky!
My new parents, by the way, have a very active sex life. They try to keep it private, but I’m not deaf, and this apartment is too small for secrets.
Unable to resist the plumpness of his lips, I lean in and give him a soft kiss. My eyes travel down his body to his elephant trunk, pressing against his underwear.
Surprising myself, my hand travels downward, taking a firm handful of an impossibly large cock. And it's not even hard yet! My... ahem... underpowered dick jerks in response.
My eyes grow wide as I massage his shaft, my eyes darting to his face for a response. He seems so real! As I pick up speed, I notice a sheet of instructions sticking out of the packing material.
Maybe he's a robot. How do I turn him on? Please God, let me turn him on.
I pull out a single sheet; its' type as plain and spare as the label:
1) Place Dream Date on a clean, smooth surface.
2) Insert two fingers into the roof of Dream Date’s mouth, locating the pump.
3) Press repeatedly until a clear, thick liquid exits Dream Date, leaving the body hollow. DO NOT DISPOSE OF LIQUID.
4) Remove Dream Date’s mouth-guard. (2 pcs.) Stretch Dream Date’s mouth, and enter.
5) Click mouth-guard over the operator’s teeth. The pump will automatically reconnect.
6) To refill Dream Date, press pump and hold. The liquid will return. BREATHE DEEPLY.
I lick my lips with excitement, perspiration beading my brow. Does this mean what I think it means? An erotic tingle shoots through my spine.
I grab hold of one of his arms, testing the weight. It's dense. Heavy.
Well, here goes nothing!
Taking a deep breath, I push his back up until he is in a sitting position, then loop an arm under each pit. I tug hard, pushing the box away with my foot as I slide him out. Packing peanuts spray across the room.
I drag the dead weight to the kitchen, chuckling. If anyone saw me, it would look like I was cleaning up the scene of a crime!
Pulling him over by the window, I drop the body on the smooth tile floor with a thump. Orange light floods through the open blinds providing me with a better view.
A realization hits me as I gaze at his vascular thighs. I have never seen anyone this big before in real life. I guess that would be why my dad would want to wear this suit! Plus, my mom has always been into middle-eastern men. I notice her eyes wander when we’re all out to dinner.
My trembling fingers press against his mouth and his lips part. They rub against his tongue, dry and coarse — like a cat's — then slide my fingers up to the roof of his mouth. I feel a hollow lump.
This must be the pump.
When I press it down, I hear a rush of air, and his body expands. Then I release it, and it contracts. He looks like he's breathing!
I attempt sticking my fist down his throat. If he is a body suit, he should be hollow... right? But he feels blocked. Filled up. Almost like the bladder of a waterbed.
As I resume pumping, a gel-like sweat begins to rushes out of his pores. With each repetition, his dominating form caves in, and a large pool of liquid forms on the floor.
Once more, I reach my hand down his throat. It slides in easily.
Well, it's now or never!
I slide off my pajamas, then grip the far edge of his mouth-guard forming the roof of his mouth. I pull. It disengages with a sharp click. The bottom piece, complete with a lolling tongue, snaps off as well.
With growing excitement, I snap the top piece into my mouth. It clicks in like a retainer. A perfect fit. Then I insert the bottom piece. I guide my tongue into his, detecting a slightly bitter flavor. It snaps into place with a satisfying click. I take a moment to explore the sensation of a stranger's teeth with my fingertips. They are much larger, and straighter, than my own.
My hands stretch his mouth wide as I dip a foot inside. The interior feels like rubber. As my skin slides across it, it clings to me lightly, like invisible suction cups.
In a trance, my eyes remain glued to his misshapen face as I sit down on the ground and slide him over my other leg. I pull him over me, shimmying his skin over mine— and my raging boner.
The thick puddle beneath me squishes as I wrestle the rest of his skin over my upper body. Finally, I let his face snap over mine, and I sink into darkness.
Sliding my arms into his sagging sleeves, I yelp as I feel a cold spike, almost like a thin spout, press against my rear end. This must help with the alignment. I bite my lip and let it slide between my cheeks, slipping into my tight asshole.
With labored breath, I struggle against the waves of his dense skin as I raise a hand to his open mouth. His loose fingers dip inside, looking for me. His sagging hands graze against my new teeth as I hold the button, engaging the pump.
Like a blowfish about to attack, the suit expands in an instant. It sucks in the gloopy liquid back into its' pores, inflating its thick skin. Immense pressure crushes me as a burning sensation that races across the surface of my body.
Then as quickly as it happened, the pressure subsides. The burning gives way to the chilly surface of the kitchen tile. The stale air begins to kiss my skin, warmed by a whirring furnace. I choke on a few gasping, liquid-filled breaths.
What the hell did I just do?
The grandfather clock chimes twice, signaling the late hour. My breathing smoothes, and I open my— My? His? — eyes. Although I am looking directly up at the ceiling, my developed chest rises and falls, attacking the edges of my vision. My sight seems sharper. Better than 20/20.
I blink, lubricating my new eyes, then push my palms against the floor. My body rises as if it's feather-light.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed, sitting up on the kitchen floor. My voice booms with minimal effort, so I will have to be careful. A vague middle-eastern accent tints my speech.
My eyes travel downward to the twitching, restless monster in my underwear. I bite my lower lip in curiosity, and reach around my tapered torso for one more test...
Fingers dip under tight crimson fabric— so tight it feels vacuum packed— and I discover... his hole. I run my finger across the edge, quivering as a gentle wave of pleasure rushes over me.
I notice a reflection in the chrome-plated finish of the dishwasher. An intimidating stranger stares back at me with chocolate brown eyes. His mouth twists into a smile as he raises an arm, flexing it in slow motion. He carefully observes the mountain of granite as it rises to an impressive peak. Rivers of vein and sinew appear, running across the surface into the welcoming basin of a defined tricep.
I drop his arm drops and tighten his core, lowering his lower body to the floor in a slow reverse-crunch. My eyes are locked on his. That finger on my asshole dips in, burrowing deep. My thick back arches as I begin to finger myself, watching my reflection react. His feet slide across the floor, and his giant knees drift upward.
With shocking skill, I locate my prostate and tease it. Muted grunts echo through his cavernous chest as I explore his body. He lifts a leg, allowing me to sink deeper.
A strange pressure begins to rumble between my thighs. I stop short.
What the fuck? How do I even know how to do this stuff?
I knew from an early age that I was gay, but I have avoided it, throwing myself into my studies. I know a little about sex from television and movies but have been too afraid to explore it, unsure of where it may lead.
His finger exits my ass as I rise to my feet. No... I almost float. I feel no strain as this massive body rises gracefully. Performing another test, I place my weight on one foot and kick the other outward. I bending myself backward without effort, then upright.
Having this much strength is so fucking cool!
Attempting to step lightly as I exit the tile, I cross to the living room. Despite my best efforts, the wooden floor complains under my immense weight.
Leaning downward, I examine the label on the bodysuit’s box again.
KNOWLEDGEBASE:
120 POSITIONS
STRENGTH:
500 LBS
With each rep, I start to feel a rush of restless energy. This energy begins to take a strange shape... almost anger... no that’s not it. Pride? Superiority?
I try to put my finger on my new feelings as my hips begin to thrust into the air. The tree falls to the floor as my hands explore my body, lubricated with sweat, or whatever the hell that clear liquid is. My fingers find his tender nipples and squeeze them. A bolt of lightning shoots through my body.
I look back to the label.
PERSONALITY:
AGGRESSIVE / EGOTISTICAL
My new cock feels hungry. Yeah. My new cock. I begin to rub it, relishing the roughness of this body’s fingers on his warm skin. He begins to sweat, mind racing.
But it's not new; it's always been this way. I can't walk into a coffee shop without every fucker in the room staring at me... wanting these meaty palms to cup their ass. These fingers inside of them before I give them the best fuck of their life. My freakish chest rubbing their skin raw as I take them from behind. Dominating them. Consuming them.
Fuck! This horny jock need something to bury this 10-inch pole in. Or someone.
Wait a second. What the hell am I thinking? Stay in control.
My body throws its’ hulking form over the couch. He slides the underside of his dick along the top of it, groaning as he fucks an invisible force. I find myself unable... no, unwilling, to stop him. My critical brain begins to quiet as he invades my thoughts once again.
This muscle cock wants... needs to fuck someone's brains out. Someone that doesn't deserve this fuck-beast. It's Christmas. My massive tool will be a gift.
Overcome with lust; I pump harder as I grip the back of the couch tightly. A strange urge overcomes me as I halt and snap the top of the wooden sofa frame in half. Giddy laughter escapes him while aggressive energy pumps through our body.
God that felt good! Using these brawny, meathook arms to do whatever the fuck I want. Force someone to take whatever the fuck I choose to give them.
I hear a bed rattle in another room. Inspiration strikes. With renewed purpose, he heads to my parents’ bedroom.
As he pushes the door open, I spot my father. He is laying on his back, alone in bed. I notice a soft glow cast across the floor from underneath the adjoining bathroom door. That solves the mystery of my mother’s whereabouts.
Suddenly, I feel the shaky wall between this beast’s desires and my thoughts collapse. I give in as we become one in the same.
I’ll have to act fast.
I approach him from the side, noticing for the first time how fucking gorgeous my father is. His right arm rests with a hand above his head, his bicep bulging from the angle. He may be about half of my new size, but he is no slouch in the gym.
As if operated by some unseen force, one of my hands slides around his throat, tightening its’ grip. The other dips into his nightshirt, caressing the contours of his chest, feeling up bristles of course hair.
I lower my bull-like head until my nose dives into his rank armpit. Inhaling deeply, I take in his scent, fulfilling a fantasy I didn't even know I had.
While keeping a firm hand around his neck, I reach into his boxers and begin to pump his meat. His thick cock quickly gathers strength and responds to my new body’s expert stimulus. I seem to know exactly what to do.
My dad's hips spring to life, rocking between my welcoming hand and the bouncy surface of the mattress. As I watch his unconscious participation, my underwear grows tight. The head of my swelling cock breaks free on the elastic band, reaching up towards my belly button.
A cough comes from the bathroom, and my dad's eyes flutter open. His eyes widen in horror as my grip on his throat tightens, and I pump him harder. A wicked smile strikes across his face. My father's thirsty pupils widen, drinking in the contours of my intimidating body. My solid muscles bulge as I use my strength to keep him subdued.
“Babe, you bought him!” my dad chokes out. I smile as I loosen my grip on his neck. He thinks I am my mother! “I didn’t have this in mind. You wearing this hulking stud...” — his eyes dropping to my cock — “Breeding me... but I— I like it. Take it, babe. This is all yours.”
Upon hearing these words out of my dad’s mouth, an unbearable tide of lust overtakes me. “Shut the fuck up,” I rumble, “This stud body gets whatever it wants, and I’m going to use you as I see fit.”
Suddenly my hard cock begins to vibrate against my stomach. It sends a crippling charge through my body. Surprised, I release my dad from my death grip double over as a tidal wave of thick precum gushes into my hand.
As I bring it to my nose for a sniff, I head my dad whimpering like a sad, little baby. "Oh daddy," he moans, desperately pumping his own cock.
“That’s right,” I encourage, with a cocky grin. “Who’s daddy’s little boy now?”
I bring a hand back to his throat and grip it tight, while I use my other to rub my cum over his mouth and coarse stubble, effectively muffling his cries.
His eyes roll back in his head as he holds onto the edge of consciousness, unable to control his moans. I watch, violently horny, as he explodes all over his chest.
I hop on top of him in a 69 position, licking him clean, as my heaving body forces its massive cock down his throat. I fuck his face with abandon.
“I’m gonna blow, baby,” I groan as I feel his excitement grow. He begins to suck like a Hoover.
The toilet flushes in his bathroom, and I feel my dad freeze. No doubt, a surprise guest star in his marriage is... a shock. Undeterred, my body takes over, as I continue to fuck his mouth-hole. Finally, I shoot a massive load down his throat.
The water in the sink starts to rush as my adopted mom washes her hands, and I pull myself out of my father and climb out of bed. I loom over him for a moment, enjoying the power, then fiendishly wipe my remaining cum off of his lips with my hand.
I rub my sticky palm on his abs and slide his shirt over it, hiding the evidence. I tuck him in under the covers.
“Close your eyes,” I command. “You don’t want your wife to ask questions, do you?”
And with that, I hightail it out of the room. The door clicks closed as the bathroom door opens. I press a large ear to the door as I hear her footsteps travel to the bed. My dad stirs, faking it well no doubt, as she lays back down.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” she whispers.
“No babe,” he replies softly. “I actually can’t sleep. Mind if I— if I take a shower?”
“Now? Uh... sure. Just don't be long. In the morning I have a surprise for you under the tree, and you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
With a wicked smile, I head back to the kitchen and take off our new toy. As I dampen a rag and towel him off, dreams of new possibilities dance like sugarplums through my head.
With difficulty, I push the freshly rewrapped box upright beside the tree. I chuckle at one last thought before bed.
Sorry, mom. Despite your best efforts, Christmas has cum early!
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