Gaypril: Mutually Assured Corruption

Models: Grayson Lange & Austin Wolf

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

Nikolai had his hand locked in Patrick’s hair and his voice was low and dangerous, his face like thunder.

In contrast, Patrick smiled up at the colossal bull and when he spoke his tone was whimsically carefree.

‘Oh, you know, just enjoying the view,’ he sighed contentedly, though as he waved a hand towards the window to indicate the cityscape beyond his eyes remained fixed on Nikolai’s face.

‘You can’t be here. You know what the change does to me. I can’t control myself. You have to leave. How did you even get in?’

A mischievous smirk played over Patrick’s lips. ‘I might have swiped your spare key last time I was here. Although I thought you’d be happier to find an almost naked plaything on your bed.’ He paused, his smirk growing. ‘You know, to say you supposedly don’t want me here, this bulge has been growing ever since you laid eyes on me.’

Nikolai groaned as Patrick massaged the front of his boxers. Every muscle went rigid as he fought against the carnal urges roaring through his mind. But he knew he couldn’t hold them off forever – soon the animal inside would overwhelm him.

‘Please leave,’ he pleaded. ‘You don’t want to see me like this. It won’t end well for you.’

But Patrick just giggled. ‘Don’t be silly, handsome – I’m exactly where I want to be. Why else would I be lying on your bed in just my boxers if I didn’t want to see what my best friend looks like as a full-on werebull? And don’t worry, I know exactly how this will end. Actually, I’ve been dreaming about it for weeks. Besides,’ he added, leaning in close to Nikolai’s crotch until he was almost kissing his underwear, ‘you and I both know you won’t let me leave. I wouldn’t make it three steps before you tackled me to the bed. So how about we skip that part and just get straight to the bit where I go down on my bull’s big, thick, juicy cock?’

Before Nikolai could reply, Patrick slid his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and peeled the crotch down. His immense cock bucked free already glistening with precum, his heavy balls still cupped in his underwear.

Nikolai shuddered as his shaft was released; gasped as Patrick’s fingers coiled around the base; then let out a guttural groan as his friend offered his warm, wet lips as a sheath for Nikolai’s sword.

The rush of ecstasy turned Nikolai’s legs to rubber and he abruptly collapsed onto the bed. Sprawled out on his back with his legs over the edge, he was vaguely aware that Patrick was now kneeling between his thighs having slid effortlessly into position as Nikolai fell.

But as raw, all-consuming pleasure screamed through his body the real world slowly started to slip through Nikolai’s fingers and he found his mind drifting.

Being a werebull was something Nikolai had grown used to over the years, though resisting the temptation to act on the blinding arousal that came with his transformation never got any easier. Nonetheless, Nikolai had always promised himself he would never infect anybody with his tauranthropy and so every month at the full moon he locked himself in his flat, spread every sex toy he owned out on the bed, hooked up his laptop to cast lengthy playlists of gay porn to the wall-mounted TV, then spent the night satisfying the beast inside.

However, while Nikolai was only contagious during the full moon that didn’t mean he was safe to be around come sunrise. His transformation could take up to a week to wear off, and during that time any man he fucked faced an altogether different fate: becoming a weretwink. The infection drained them of both their intelligence and their masculinity, leaving them in a deeply submissive mindset until the transformation wore off. Then, of course, come the next full moon, they would undergo the change all over again to become an empty-headed plaything eager to worship any cock presented to them.

Until today, Nikolai and Patrick had a simple deal. For the duration of Nikolai’s transformation Patrick would drop off supplies at his front door once every few days. They had been friends since college and Patrick had never asked for anything in return – though today it seemed like that had finally changed.

Nikolai knew they had to stop. He hadn’t cum yet, so there was still a chance Patrick might not be infected.

But no matter how hard he willed himself to move his body would not obey. Instead he simply lay there, hands beneath his head, knees clamped around Patrick’s flanks to keep him in place, basking in the euphoria of his friend’s insatiable blowjob.

The bull was in control. And unlike Nikolai he had no desire for this to stop.

‘We… we had a deal…’ Nikolai managed, his massive chest heaving as Patrick’s tongue danced around and around his shaft.

Patrick pulled away with a wet slurp. Dribbles of precum-laced saliva decorated his chin and cheeks. ‘Yeah, well I’m changing the terms. I’ve done plenty for you. Now it’s time for you to give me something back. And there’s only one payment I’ll accept: a drink of your hot, yummy, corruptive cum.’

With that he bowed his head again and doubled his pace, filling the room with sordid suckling as he endeavoured to extract an orgasm from Nikolai’s swollen balls. Whenever he wasn’t gagging he was giggling, delirium setting in as he lived out the depraved fantasy of self-corruption he’d been dreaming of.

It wasn’t long before Patrick got his wish. Though Nikolai tried to fight it he could not withhold his climax indefinitely, and as his strength finally failed him he gave an unrestrained howl of release.

Swallowing Nikolai balls deep, Patrick’s eyes rolled as the bull’s cum gushed down his throat. With a vice-like grip on Nikolai’s hips he held himself in position to make sure he didn’t waste a single drop, and when he finally pulled away thick ropes of spittle and seed strung across the gap between his lips and the head of Nikolai’s cock.

At that point Nikolai knew it was too late. Already a vacant glaze was creeping over Patrick’s eyes. Soon his descent into submission would really take hold and with Nikolai’s cum sliding through his insides there was no longer anything that could stop it.

But as he watched a dumb smile spread across Patrick’s face, Nikolai slowly began to realise he didn’t care. Patrick had done this to himself. He’d wanted it. He’d wanted to be the plaything of a werebull. And if that was his wish then who was Nikolai to deny him that? 

Surrendering to the lust and hunger of the beast inside he allowed the power of the bull to pour through him. Every sense dialled to superhuman levels, he could hear the blood pumping in Patrick’s veins, could taste his arousal on the air. In that moment everything they used to be to one another simply fell away and they were reduced to something much more primal: predator and prey.

Nikolai surged up with powerful purpose. Before Patrick knew what was happening the immense bull had leaned over and seized his boxers in one massive hand. He ripped them off easily and a heartbeat later two thick fingers were knuckle deep in Patrick’s tight ass.

He wasn’t gentle, but neither of them wanted him to be. Pulling out briefly, he forced his fingers into Patrick’s salivating mouth before promptly using the spit-slick digits to sodomise the slender twink even deeper than before. With his free hand Nikolai parted the twink’s cheeks to allow him unobstructed access, all while Patrick threw shaking arms around his midriff, clutching his bull tightly as if the touch of his skin was the only thing grounding him in reality.

‘Such a tight little hole, cunt,’ Nikolai growled. ‘And you know what, I think I feel it getting even tighter. That’ll be the infection taking hold.’

‘Yes daddy. It’s all yours.’ Patrick groaned as he ground against Nikolai’s fingers. Then he let out a sharp cry as Nikolai planted a stinging spank to his ass.

‘Shut the fuck up. All those lips are good far are slobbering on my cock and begging for more, so unless you want me to spank you so hard you scream yourself hoarse I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut, understand?’

Patrick did not reply but Nikolai could feel the sub frantically bobbing his head. He laughed gruffly.

Roughly probing his slut’s hole, Nikolai reprimanded himself for being such a prude for so long. Why had he never done this before? It would have been so easy to drag Patrick into the flat when he came to drop off supplies; so easy to corrupt him into the needy cumdump now kneeling before him; so easy to finally have a real outlet for his supernatural lust.

And yet he’d chosen to resist the bull rather than embrace it.

Well not anymore.

Of course, having his own personal weretwink came with plenty of benefits. For one thing, when a bull infected a twink they developed an unbreakable bond, one which rendered the twink hopelessly infatuated with their new master and the bull addicted to fucking their new sub. Better yet, weretwinks were immune to tauranthropy, meaning Nikolai would be able to unleash all of his full moon energy on Patrick without fear of transforming his plaything.

But perhaps the best part was the fact that Nikolai’s transformation might now never wear off. Because while his infection technically only took hold once a month, the only reason it wore off was because Nikolai locked himself away. Without enough sexual stimulation to sustain the change it eventually lost its grip on him – but with a needy cumdump now under his control, Nikolai wouldn’t have to worry about that ever again. Better yet, weretwinks would only change back after a similar period of celibacy, and given how desperate Patrick was to be fucked already it was very clear that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.

Patrick was Nikolai’s ticket to permanent bullification, just as he was Patrick’s to perpetual twinkification. Friendship now a thing of the past, their relationship had become one of mutually assured corruption.

It might not have been the deal they made at first but neither of them had any desire to revert to the way things were before.

Once Nikolai had his sub’s ass nice and stretched he sank back down onto the bed, his flagpole cock jutting up as he reclined on the sheets. Without him needing to say a word Patrick immediately followed him, scrambling into position with his knees planted beside Nikolai’s hips and his ass pressing on the head of his master’s cock.

‘What the fuck are you waiting for, slut? I want to fill that ass until you’re coughing up cum, and I don’t want to have to lift a finger doing it. So get to fucking work.’

Patrick said nothing. From the vacantly blissful smile on his face to the emptiness behind his eyes every sign suggested the infection had robbed him of every IQ point he once had, and as such there was no way to tell if he’d even heard Nikolai’s orders. Either way he sank down, anal muscles parting and gliding smoothly down his shaft. He didn’t stop until the bull’s balls were pressing against his hole, though even then he didn’t moan – he simply closed his eyes as his mouth fell open, that same nymphomaniacal smile still pulling at the corners.

Immediately intoxicated by the pleasure of being filled, Patrick started to ride. As he did so his transformation finally started to accelerate.

From his position looking up at the needy sub, Nikolai had an excellent vantage point as Patrick began to rapidly twinkify. The stubble lining his chin began to fade as did the rest of his body hair; the muscles of his arms and legs and chest gradually melted away to give him a more effeminate figure; his rigid cock slowly dwindled in size, shrinking little by little before Nikolai’s eyes.

The bull had heard enough about weretwink transformations to know it would be several hours before Patrick’s change was complete. Until then he would be able to watch his former friend slowly but surely succumb to the sordid fate he had chosen for himself.

A cruel smirk on his face, Nikolai snaked one hand down to clasp the base of Patrick’s cock. ‘You know in a few hours this thing will be a nub compared to what it is now. But I’ve heard that twinks who masturbate during the change don’t shrink at all. Of course I’m not going to let you masturbate – that would distract you from riding me. But maybe if you impress me I might be a merciful god and jerk you off before the change is over.’ As he spoke he massaged Patrick’s balls with his thumb. ‘Tick-tock, bitch.’

This time Patrick did groan. And – clearly retaining enough mental capacity to understand what was at stake – it wasn’t long before those groans were coming thick and fast as he bounced frantically on his bull’s dick as if his life depended on it…

Thanks for reading!

Werebulls are a topic I’ve not really covered before, but given the prevalence of top/bottom dynamics in gay porn it has always felt like it would be a lot of fun to write. And I can confirm it absolutely was. I really enjoyed writing this one, and I thought the idea of flipping the table to have the bull be the one corrupted by the twink was a very sexy twist. Obviously it helped that Wolf and Lange basically embody the bull/twink roles respectively, particularly when seen side-by-side within the same scene. Better yet, I’m always eager to come up with new words, and while I’m sure it’s probably been coined by other writers before me I personally have never seen ‘tauranthropy’ used anywhere before, so the chance to use a novel word was the cherry on top for me.

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