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My New Life with Eric
|I had the wildest dreams last night. The whole affaire in the tattoo shop replayed over and over in my head. Every detail of the gloomy place was like a little diamond the shone through the filth and dust of the rat hole. In my dreams I could hear the whizzing sound of the tattoo needles, it was hypnotic. The relaxing whizzing sound gradually turned into something aggressive and unpleasant. It sounded familiar somehow but it was very distant. Then Jen stood before me and yelled "Wake UP!! You little fucker!". With that I sat up straight in my bed. If you can call it that. Lately I started to realise that I really didn't need much of the furniture that I used to have. After having discarded all the nick knacks and all that stupid decorative stuff, I started chucking out most of the furniture. What I called bed was actually just a towel on the floor. Of course the towel didn't make things more comfortable but it indicated what my designated place to sleep was. Apart from that towel the room was empty. I had my clothes, the army pants, my army boots, the tartan shirt, some Adidas track pants and an Umbro England shirt, on a little heap in the corner. The other clothes I used to own I burnt together with most of the furniture. What a sight that was. The clothes I wore yesterday before I went to the army surplus store I just dumped somewhere.
My heart was beating fast, Jen really shook me up with her yell. After a few seconds I realised the strange sound in my dream, it was the alarm clock. I pulled the plug to make it shut up, what a fucking noise! I decided to chuck it out of the window. "Who n-n-needs them a-a-a-ny way?" I said to myself. As I walked through the empty house naked I felt some kind of itch in my right hand, I couldn't place it. I tried to focus on the feeling and see what caused it but I couldn't figure it out. I also had difficulty to breath, it was as if there was something missing in the air, I wasn't getting the right kind of oxygen or something. Weird. In the kitchen I went through my morning ritual, shots and protein.
I stepped into the bathroom to take a shower, treat my body hair with the paste that Eric gave me a while ago and clean Eric's dick. When I passed the mirror it was as if I had seen someone else in a glance. That was weird, there's no one else in the house or is there? I let the water flow over my body, I was really getting big now wasn't I? I was getting as big as the professional guys. Eric told me that was because I was being such a good boy and took all my medication every morning. I smiled. I like it when Eric says I'm a good boy. I turned of the water and grabbed a towel. I walked over to the mirror to inspect my facial hair and almost got a heart attack.
"What the FUCK!! What the Fuck?!" I looked into the mirror and saw someone else's face. Or more precise, my face but something had happened to it. I had been molested! "Christ!" It was as if my mind was put into a different body. I looked down but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then I looked into the mirror again and saw the other version of me. That me didn't have hair, had piercings and somehow looked younger. I could even see a part of a tattoo flowing from my shoulders and back onto my pecs "Chirst!" my pecs were HUGE. When I looked down to inspect them I really didn't see anything strange. It was just me.
I felt weird. What was happening? I felt a panic coming up real fast. I steadied myself holding the wash basin and slowly raised my head again to face the mirror. I had my eyes closed. I took a deep breath and opened them. There he was again, that stranger that looked like me but wasn't really me. Or was he? I tried to control my breathing, calm my thoughts and try to figure out what was happening. I looked so intensely different. I really didn't want to think about it too much but a strange thought started forming in the back of my mind. I examined my face again. The smoothness made me look so much younger. It was strange to see that there was no facial hair at all, not even stubble. I used to have very heavy beard growth but now there wasn't a single trace of a beard anywhere. It was as if someone had been treating my face with depilatory cream or something. I touched my face and it really felt smooth like a boy's skin.
And what about the piercings? That ring through my nose looked really stupid! It made me look like a moron. Who did that to me? I started fumbling trying to get it out of there but I couldn't. My arms raised themselves to bring my hands to the offending piece but once they got there there was nothing they could do, as if they were paralysed. I tried as hard as I could but I was unable to remove them. Same thing happened when I tried to remove the rings from my eyebrow. I couldn't even get my hands close to the silver tubes from my earlobes. In utter frustration I looked down to my feet and strangely felt completely at ease. I could feel something was going on because my heart was racing but I still felt as if everything was normal.
Until I looked into the mirror again. It all came back to me again. The thought in my mind was getting clearer and clearer however slowly. It was as if I hadn't used it in a while and it had to get rebooted or something. In a strange way that emptiness in my head felt good, I have always been someone to think about things way too much. I wanted to see the rest of my body and I realised that I needed to see things through a mirror in order to realise what was going on. I ripped the mirror from the wall and used it to have a look at my body. Christ almighty! My body was huge! Just like I always wanted it. I got hard looking at my own body, that had never happened to me before. Wow! I looked really hot!
However hot I looked, I couldn't figure out what had happened. Why did I look like this? How did I get this big? When and why did I get the tattoos and the peircings? Where had all my body hair gone? So many questions. I decided to put the mirror back in it's place and try to find the answers.
The moment I looked away from the mirror I felt very relaxed, like I always do. No worries and no stress, life was simple for a boy like me. I did feel as if something had happened but I couldn't put my finger on it.
I got dressed, I couldn't be bothered to wash my clothes the other day. Anyway I would have had to do that by hand as I had chucked out the washing machine. I put on my army pants and my England shirt. I got the shirt one size too small so it would show every ripple of my abs, the outline of my pecs and my nipples. I really liked that. I looked hot! Getting dressed I got a bit tired from breathing, something was definitely wrong with the air. I found it hard to breath.
On my way to the gym I hoped breathing would get better, but it only did some marginally. I really have to ask Eric about this. Perhaps he'll sent me to a doctor? I had never had this before. Despite my strange breathing problem I had a fantastic workout, as ever. There were several guys who checked me out. One guy even tried to come on to me, I think, by complimenting me on my peircings and how great the tattoo would look once finished. I really liked the guy but I could hardly understand what he was talking about. I could tell he got annoyed by my stuttering and started to make fun of me in a way that I couldn't understand but I knew he was making fun of me. In the end I felt like I could cry, I didn't because I'm a big boy, I really wished Eric was here to end all this.
After my workout I showered and left the gym. I didn't have anywhere to go really. There was nothing at my house, most of my former friends thought I'd gone mad or I was pulling their leg. Whatever they thought, it was all one big joke to them and didn't really like to see me anymore. So I just hung out I guess. Somewhere close to the mall. I just leaned against one of the walls there drinking beer from a bottle. Checking out some of the other guys that hung out there. Most of them just skaters and some white trash. I really thought they looked cool, wouldn't it be fun if I could be friends with them? Then again, they were probably much older than me, they had stubble in on there faces so they weren't boys anymore like me.
When the big hand of the clock was on the seven and the little hand on the twelve I knew I was allowed to go to Eric's place. I would have to wait another hour before he'd actually be home, but I was allowed to wait outside his door. I really didn't mind waiting for him, being on his doorstep was so much better than hanging out in the mall.
I told Eric about my day. About the strange guy in the mirror. Eric told me that he did that to have some fun. I really didn't understand. "How do you mean 'fun'" I asked him. "Well that guy you see in the mirror is you, only when you see yourself through a mirror your mind will snap back to the way it was before you met me. Though I'm not sure whether I will erase this post hypnotic suggestion or not". I still didn't understand. So Eric explained to me that I used to be a completely different person. I used to be a grown up with a good job and responsibilities. He told me that he had no use of such a person. He wanted a nice dumb, dependent and extremely muscular boy to satisfy his fantasy. A muscle hunk who would be at a complete loss on his own. A dumb fuck boy who would do anything he wanted. I must have looked as if I really didn't understand because Eric said that he was just making that up. "You're a good boy" he said. I smiled again.
Eric reached for a beautiful wooden box on the table, a box that I had never seen before. When he opened it he took out a big cigar. I just watched he every move in adoration. Eric was so beautiful, I was such a lucky boy. Eric went through a whole ritual before actually lighting the cigar. I really didn't expect is so I was very surprised when Eric blew out the smoke in my face. At first I wanted to get away from the smoke, but then I realised that I could breath so much easier. "Ah, I see you like it when I blow the smoke in your face." All I could do was smile and nod, it was such a relieve after a whole day of having difficulty breathing. "Let me tell you a secret," Eric said. "normal air really doesn't do it for you anymore. You need air with my cigar smoke in it. It really needs to be MY cigar smoke, anybody else's just doesn't do it for you. Whenever you're not breathing air with my cigar smoke you're breathing is more difficult than normal, except in the gym. You can however alleviate the breathing problem by smoking cigarettes, the more you smoke them, the easier your breathing will be. I wouldn't be surprised when you end up smoking one cigarette after another. Still, remember that I will not have you smoke those things in my presence. I can't stand the darn things."
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