"We won't get caught, man. That's why we're back here, remember? No one comes back here but the old man."

"Back here" was the back door of the Gothic mansion that sat at the weed-infested end of what was once a very wealthy neighborhood. The boys had come through on their way to a Halloween party, and Jeff had suggested the prank that

Ken wanted to back out of, now. Jeff made the most of the creepy atmosphere, the creaking of the wrought-iron gate in the arrow-tipped fence surrounding the place, the weeds high enough to hide any number of creatures, ghouls, and children of the night. The two college sophomores fit right in, with their Goth-vampire costumes, shadowy beings slipping around to the back with a paper bag full of dog droppings they'd collected on the way down the street, past the empty lots where once stood the manses of Victorian society.

"Okay, but dude, what about all those stories, the homeless guys that di sappeared and all?"

"Jesus, Ken. You don't believe that shit, do you?"

Jeff put the bag on the porch.

"I don't know, man. All I know is . . ."

Suddenly Ken felt a cold hand with a damp rag in it clap over his nose and mouth from behind. He heart dropped to his feet, his adrenaline surged like an explosion in his chest, but his struggle was useless, and, in seconds, the world spun briefly and went dark.

When Ken came to, he found himself in a room that, from the small, high, windows, barred by iron mesh from the outside world, appeared to be in the basement. There were a few old, tattered mattresses on the floor, a toilet against one wall that looked like one of the first indoor toilets, and a heavy wooden door. Jeff sat on one of the mattresses. He was on another. Jeff was staring at him, and he was totally, stark naked. Ken realized he was, too.

"You okay?" Jeff was rubbing the back of his head, as though it hurt. "I thought you were gonna be under forever, man."

"What happened?" Ken pushed himself to a sitting position.

"I don't know, man. I was doing the bag, I heard you drop, and by the time I could stand up, he got me, too. Must've been chloroform, or ether, or something."

Ken stood up and as fast as he could, stumbled to the door.

"Don't even bother, man. It's locked," Jeff said.

"Fuck, dude. What're we gonna do?"

"Don't know, man. I don't know."

Ken went back to the mattress and sat back down. His head was so foggy, it was hard to focus, and he felt strangely dizzy.

"Fuck, Jeff. I feel like I've been drugged. You feel weird?"

"Well, duh, dude. You were. Yeah, I feel fucked up, man."

"Where's our clothes, man? Where's my cell? Shit. No one knew we were coming here. Shit. You asshole. I can't believe you got us into this."

"Don't worry, man. He's just a crazy old man, probably just trying to scare us."

Something about how casual Jeff seemed made Ken feel suspicious. "Well, he was pretty strong, for an old man," he said.

"Yeah, he sure was."

"Okay, Jeff. Let's think. We gotta think."

But nothing logical would come into Ken's head, no plan, nothing but a vague, dull panic. How could the old man be so strong, to overpower two young studs like them? So strong. Two young studs. He looked over at Jeff, sitting on the edge of his mattress, his legs crossed as the ankles over the edge, his dick just hanging over the edge. The two of them, naked, just sitting there, fully exposed, no options he could think of. So strong. Two young studs. He was feeling warm, very warm, and the basement room was chilly with the damp October night. Jeff was rubbing his head again, and Ken watched him. He wondered why Jeff didn't seem to be as panicked as he was feeling, although, since he wasn't about to let it show, he figured Jeff was just being cool, too. Two young studs. Hot guys, everyone said. They'd be missed at the party.

"Happy fuckin' Halloween," Jeff said, looking across at Ken. His eyes had an intense, hungry look to them. His mouth curled into a strange kind of smile. "I guess we'll just be having our own special party, bro. Little change of costume idea, though. We'll be going as two naked guys."

"Oh, very funny." Ken stood up again. He felt restless. Caged. He had to get out, had to do something. He paced. The single naked light bulb that hung from the ceiling on a frayed wire cast harsh shadows across the walls and onto the floor.

"Just trying to make the best of it, man. Fuck, it's hot in here."

"No, it's not," Ken shot back, suddenly angry at his buddy, an anger that felt physical, a balloon in his chest, "It's fucking cold in here. And I'm burning up. What the fuck is going on, man?"

Jeff stood up now and faced the pacing Ken, the wild look in his eyes wilder, still. "You telling me you're hot, dude?" He laughed, and his laugh had a rough, almost barking quality to it. "So we'll just have to be two fuckin' hot naked guys. I feel fuckin' hot, too, man. Real fuckin' hot."

And when Ken looked, he saw Jeff's cock begin to stir, grow, rise, and suddenly there he was, standing there with a total hard-on, a boner so stiff it almost reached his belly. He wanted to turn away. He'd never had a guy just show him wood that way. But he felt something different from what he thought. Jeff's cock looked big, powerful. He didn't remember Jeff having a big dick, although he'd never seen it hard. Two hot naked guys. His own cock felt big, and without warning, he felt it stiffen and rise, just as Jeff's had, and it felt big, heavy, powerful.

He saw a look in Jeff's eyes that his brain, his foggy, slow, drug-addled brain, was telling him he should fear, or reject, or be angry about. He was angry at him. He felt a kind of anger he'd never known, and it felt strong inside him. Too strong. He wanted to push it away, but all he could do was look at the shining gleam in Jeff's eyes. Something about Jeff seemed different to him. His eyebrows were heavier, the lashes darker, his carefully planned stubble thicker, rougher. There was something so strongly masculine about him it almost seemed animal. He wanted to go over and do something to him, something for getting them into this, but the brutal feelings in him were feeling somehow very strongly sexy. His own cock, hard, heavy, was drawing his sensations from his brain into its engorged tissues. So masculine. So powerful.

Then, like a rush from his groin, feelings exploded in him that he could not control and could not stop. The power was all through him, raging. He was compelled by some force that drove his body to action, and he found himself raising both his arms in a show of that power, flexing them hard, as if . . . as

if . . . he had muscle.

"Aaarrgggghhh."

He heard the cry leap from his chest. He saw Jeff's eyes widen and glitter, excited. His face was handsomer, more rugged, his whiskers still darker, the pattern of his beard more filled in, covering more of his face. Now Ken looked down, drawn by a lust that erupted within him, and saw that Jeff had become more muscular. Much more muscular. His pecs and shoulders and arms were thick. The power. Hair was sprouting all over, on his chest, his stomach, his legs, his arms. His chest hair went all the way into his armpits. His arm hair

grew to cover the backs of his hands, his fingers. His feet were hairy. His groin was so hairy that Ken knew all this was some kind of warped fantasy, some Halloween nightmare. That was it. He was still asleep. Jeff's cock was so huge, now, it looked as big as his forearm. And the shock was that he could have been looking in a mirror. He felt himself, and he was just like Jeff. His muscles were huge, thick, heavy, and growing. He was hairy, incredibly hairy, hairier than he could possibly want, but he felt so hot he didn't even understand the feelings. He felt trapped, caged, angry, furious, yet exhilarated, full of a lust that was consuming him, a kind of ecstasy of animal freedom. He rushed forward to grab Jeff by the shoulders, to hurt him for getting them into this, or to feel his body, masculine beyond anything human but dizzyingly attractive. He had to kill him, or have him, or both.

"What . . . the . . . fuck!" he shook Ken by the shoulders, his grip, so strong, barely able to squeeze the dense hard muscle. Their cocks slapped together.

Jeff just looked at him, the same desires Ken was feeling showing in his gray-green eyes, his grin, insane almost, bigger than ever. But something else was in his eyes, too. Surprise, maybe.

"He said . . . it . . . would be . . . cool," he said. "He said . . . a whole new . . . kind of . . . maleness." His words came slowly and with difficulty, and he barked a coarse laugh.

"Who? Who . . . said?"

Ken felt the desire in him growing stronger, the muscle in his hands, the feeling of his own body, big, strong, animal, everything driving him to . . . something.

"The old . . . man." Jeff laughed wildly, insanely, reaching up to grab and press Ken's massive chest even as Ken shook him. "Fuck," he said, now looking at Ken's body.

Ken felt an excitement he'd never known, roiling on the anger, the power, the intense maleness. I was being unleashed from someplace deep inside, deep in his balls, below conscience or though, someplace wholly masculine and wholly animal. He felt Jeff's lust for his hairy, huge muscle, his gigantic cock that rode his swollen balls. The power, the pull was impossible to control or resist. He felt he could bite into the bloody core of his one-time buddy, but when he pulled Jeff's face to his face, he found himself kissing him with a rough intensity that made his cock shudder with erotic urgency.

Jeff pulled back, looked wildly, barely able to concentrate on words, now, as though he wanted to say it, to tell Ken, but was too consumed with animal passion.

"I . . . " He struggled, "he . . . " the words were becoming hard to understand, guttural, his surprise now more like the look of realizing he'd been

betrayed, tricked. "My . . . uncle."

Ken suddenly knew that Jeff had set this all up. The whole thing. And it was swallowing him up, too. But Ken didn't care anymore. He grabbed their two huge cocks between them and began to stroke them. He felt the powerful, beautiful animal that he was, that his friend was. He felt his lust rising, raging, becoming his primary instinct. He pushed Jeff, creature of inhuman male

beauty that he'd become, down onto the mattress. Nothing else mattered but his body and that body, satisfying them, using them. He forced Jeff's legs apart, pushed them over his shoulders, and with all the power that was boiling inside him, forced his huge, inhuman member deep into Jeff's hot, hungry hole.

Across the woods, at Amy Ferguson's house, the party froze in silence for a moment when an ungodly animal scream penetrated the damp, windy Halloween night, piercing even the music and laughter, chilling the blood of all the kids in the house.

Finally, a few guys began to laugh at their silly fear. Ben Stiles looked at his watch.

"Where do you think Jeff and Ken are?" •