Content: teenager Clay is forced to participate in an intransparent game of humiliation against an unknown opponent.
Chapter 1/4
The sunny morning was off to a good start and Clay was about to be off to the gym. The ultra-lean boy never skipped a day of exercise. He had been raised to be diligent and took pride in it.
As the blue-eyed, black-haired teen reached for his duffle bag, his phone rang with an unknown number.
"Hello? Clay speaking."
"Good morning Clay", said a calm, male voice. "I am an attorney, working on your case."
"What? I don't need a lawyer. Wrong number, buddy."
"No, listen. I take on cases like yours. I have intercepted a message. You were selected for a game of `rings'. I don't have a lot of information yet, but I'll do my best to help you along while figuring out how to stop it."
"What the fuck, man?"
"I suppose, I'll have to let you see for yourself. Call me when it begins."
Clay hung up, shaking his head. What a nut job. If the guy ever called again, he'd just block the number.
Unwilling to let his mood get ruined, Clay headed to the gym. In the locker room he opened his cabinet and paused. There was a strange wind coming from somewhere in the closed space.
The boy's clothes fell off him like sand and were blown away by the impossible air current. He was nude. Even his smartwatch and necklace were gone. His fat-less, athletic body was on display.
Utterly stumped, his first thought was to check if anyone had witnessed the event. The only other person had just left so he was alone right now.
A booming voice reverberated inside his own head.
<Player 2!> the voice shouted.
Was Clay going insane? Was there any other explanation?
His skin tingled and he saw the hairs on his arms fall off. In panicked amazement he walked up to the full length mirror at the shower entrance and watched his body hair evaporate. But that wasn't all. His facial hair was equally removed, leaving only eyelashes.
Then the head hair followed, but some stayed back. He had a mohawk now. Everything else was perfectly smooth.
No wait, there was still a patch of pubic hair above his dick, shaped into a perfect trim. Thick eyebrows and a beard strip from lower lip to the bottom of his chin formed – all flawlessly trimmed.
What he saw was simply impossible. Clay didn't move, too shell shocked to even think about what had happened. It felt weird, being so smooth. Too feminine. Too faggy. And the douche-bag style grooming didn't help.
Two men entered the locker room, but walked past him into the showers without paying attention to the perversely smooth teen.
Just as his mind returned to normal mode, his skin changed again. He became darker, acquiring a deep tan. There was only one exception – his crotch area received sharp tan lines as if he had been tanning for weeks in a small thong.
Three more men entered and changed into street clothes at their lockers. Clay simply stood there. What else should he have been doing? Maybe he should give the attorney guy a call now.
As the teen turned around to get his phone from his bag, he felt a wave of horniness wash over him. Within a few heartbeats, he was fully erect.
Clay made it to his locker and turned his back toward the men in the room, just as he began to leak precum. As he opened his bag, the booing voice inside his head returned.
<Player 2! Preparations are complete. You are now ready to don the uniform. Retrieve it immediately.>
Clay saw his phone in the bag, but to his shock, all gym clothes were gone. Instead he had new attire in there – the `uniform'.
Left with nothing else to cover up, Clay slipped into the white thong. It stood in stark contrast to his skin and didn't hide his erection. If anything the boner was emphasized.
While the thong crawled up his ass crack, Clay slipped into the white sneakers he had gotten with the thong. The final piece of uniform was a white snapback, which was slightly too small for his head, so Clay had to place it on top where it made the black mohawk more pronounced without covering any of it. Somehow it stayed firmly in place.
The two guys in the shower returned to the locker room and immediately spotted Clay who was basically pointing his erection at them. There was no point in staying and waiting for more men to see him in his state. The teen briskly walked out, with his empty bag in front of his crotch.
He was lucky to live close by, so he almost made it home before the next thing happened.
Clay jumped as the voice shouted into his brain. <Both players are set. Here are the rules. Each round you will be given a gift or a task. Let's look at gifts first. Should you accept the gift, you will get one ring. Should you refuse, the gift will go to the opposing player who cannot refuse it. Player 1 will always get the offer first.>
That didn't sound so bad. Obviously the uniform was the most degrading thing that had ever happened to Clay, so he was glad it appeared to be an easy game which could be over quickly.
Clay finally made it into his home and grabbed the nearest pair of jeans. He slipped in and it promptly fell of his body as if turned to dust.
"Fuck."
With shaky fingers he called the last number in his incoming calls list.
"Hello Clay," said the `attorney'.
"Help me. What the fuck is happening?"
"Ah, I take it you have been informed of the game by its organizers by now. I don't have any new information but I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Just try to collect rings for now."
The man hung up, leaving the lean boy to panic on his own. His erection showed no signs of going down.
<Player 2!> the voice said and made the boy jump again. <Your opponent has accepted the offered gift. Will you do the same? Here it is.>
Clay cried out as something stabbed him in the chest. He looked down on himself as the pain subsided. There were thick nipple rings dangling on his now hardened nipples. The rose gold rings were obscenely faggy. He risked one look in the mirror and cringed at his disturbing appearance.
Where those the `rings' he needed? So he already had two. Maybe he could rush through the game and take all the piercings out at the end of the day.
<Do you accept the gift to receive one ring? Or do you refuse in which case your opponent will be forced to accept one additional gift.>
Clay took a deep breath. It was temporary and it would be over quick. He'd laugh about it by this time next week.
"I accept."
A black line running around his right forearm appeared. So that was the ring – a band of ink.
What? That was amazing news. He wouldn't keep looking faggy like this. Clay's biggest worry was completely gone. He would simply accept gift after gift and hope his opponent slipped up somewhere. Easy.
The attorney called again.
"Hello?"
"Clay, I think I can... how should I explain? I can `hack' into the game and figure out where player 1 is. If you both forfeit at the same time you both get to drop out. As long as you find each other, you can coordinate."
"Great news, man. I'm not too worried right now. Is it true that I get `reset' once it's all over?"
"As far as I can tell, yes. The changes are temporary."
"Great. I'll keep getting rings, yeah?"
"Do that. I'll call you when I know where to find player 1."
For a moment, Clay was almost hopeful. Nine gifts or tasks to go, unless the weird lawyer found a location for him to meet the other guy.
Since Clay's dick was still fully hard and his horniness showed no sign of decreasing, he dropped onto the sofa and pulled his dick from the thong. After edging himself for only three minutes, the boy felt the need to cum.
It didn't work. No matter how hard he jerked with his breath held, the orgasm would approach but never arrive. He was edging and edging without relieve.
, the voice said, startling the teen, <let's keep up momentum.> Clay shoved his dick back into his thong as if he had been caught masturbating. He didn't know if the voice in his head knew what he was doing or not. <Only a slight majority guessed correctly that both would accept the first gift. How will this information change the accuracy of your bets?>
What? There were people watching the game? Where they in his head, too, like the voice seemed to be? How dared they make bets out of his misery!
"Yo, what the fuck!" he yelled at the ceiling, as if the voice were coming from above. "You're not doing this alone? Is this a game to y- I mean, how can you just... Hello?"
There was no answer and for a minute, Clay was alone in his head again. Then the `show host' returned.
<Player 1 accepted the gift, so you don't get his gift forced upon you. Now choose to keep yours or reject it.>
"What is it? More pierc- Ah! ...oh."
The second gift was not piercing through his skin but it was of the same gay-looking, shiny rose gold material. His wrists and ankles now had shackles. They were pure metal but fit his body shape so perfectly that they didn't cut into his flesh.
They were shiny enough to look decorative – kind of – if one assumed Clay was into a minimalist, jewelry heavy, faggy style.
Despite their small size, they weighed a lot. About five pounds per shackle, which would make itself noticeable soon if he kept standing or walking.
But it didn't cause pain and it wasn't any more humiliating than nipple rings, so Clay decided to shrug it off. They would only be there for a day after all.
"I accept," he said and watched a second ring tattoo appear half an inch from the first one. Eight still to go.
<Both players have taken the gift. Let's move onto the first task.>
Clay stood up, as if to hear better. Not that it did anything – the voice was a booming sound coming from between his own ears. It just felt right. He had to beat player 1 in case the attorney failed.
"Fuck."