Silver Fox
The Stereotype Ray, or "SR" for short, has unknown origins. Some traced its current incarnation to an evil genius from the 1960s, purged from the US Government ranks during the Lavender Scare. Others say it simply manifest to that scientist like a genie's lamp, tracing the story of some mechanism or device that accomplished its effect to objects decades – if not centuries – earlier. The Fountain of Youth, Shangri-La, the Staff of Moses -- places or devices that some claimed are all embellishments of the same item. An item perhaps gifted – or cursed – to humanity from extra-dimensional beings, creatures from another planet, or a major or minor deity. Perhaps it had been a weapon from a long-lost civilization that grew a conscience and sentience, and rather than be judged by it, the weapon was discarded. Perhaps it was an almost omnipotent being, trapped in a material device or living there for fun and chaos.
Science or magic, it didn't matter for they were two sides of the same coin: any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, so-said Arthur C. Clarke. No one really knew how it worked, no one knew what powered it. Most didn't know if it was real or not. The stories did have one consistent thread: It made its victim into a sexy, gay stereotype of some kind, with no one but the wielder knowing what things were like before. It adjusted the rest of the world to just keep on keeping on, but the new stereotype's effect would also, temporarily, influence others nearby.
Whatever its origins or its machinations, it is relevant to our story because tonight it was being stolen from its last owner by a cat burglar who knew exactly what he was looking for. It was a very quick in-and-out operation, and the burglar left silently with what looked like a simple laser pointer in their zippered pocket.
The burglar stole away from the scene of his crime, jumped in his car parked around the block, and drove home after taking off his ski mask. Maybe cliché, but he was stealing what was purported to be a stereotype ray. He was excited, almost shivering with anticipation. On the other hand, it was now 2am, and no one was around in the small town to play victim. Knowing the legends, he dared not try it on himself, if for no other reason than he knew he wouldn't remember being any different and would think it broken, at least after a few minutes.
No, instead of testing it out, he parked in his car port, walked up to his apartment door, unlocked it, walked inside, took off his black clothes, and went to bed after first putting the laser pointer into a box of cereal in his cupboard.
The next morning, Daniel awoke with dawn's rays dancing through his window and onto his naked form. He greeted his morning wood with a few shakes and promised it that it would have fun today if things worked out.
Spring had sprung in the small town of Shawing, Idaho, and our protagonist found a set of warm shorts, tight briefs to fit his modest endowment into, and a generic light green t-shirt. He poured himself some cereal, extricating the laser pointer, and putting some milk in the bowl he proceeded to have breakfast. He examined the pointer for any sign, marking, heft, or really anything that would indicate it was anything more than what it appeared to be. The only thing that set it apart from a real laser pointer was that it had no batteries. It was solid, having no way to even unscrew a top into which to put batteries. Otherwise, it had a single button, an aperture, and a warning label like a normal laser pointer, warning the user not to point into one's eyes and that it had a power <5 mW. Daniel was certain he would not be pointing it at his own eyes, or anywhere near himself.
He was a little concerned that it only had a single button, indicating that it had no selectable options. He wasn't sure, then, how he could control the outcome. Maybe that was part of the features of the SR: The user might control the aim, but maybe it had a mind of its own. Or, maybe it just read the user's mind?
Only one way to find out.
Finishing his cereal, Daniel opted for the park. Any sort of change would be less obvious there than, say, a coffee shop or a grocery store, and he also didn't want to call attention to himself. A park would let him sit or stand casually and discretely aim and fire. So, that's what he did.
A short, 10-minute stroll and he was in the central park of Shawing watching the early morning dog walkers, joggers, runners, cyclists, and general populace. He didn't want to try the SR on someone who was on a machine, so that took out the cyclists. Didn't want a dog to go wandering off, so that took out the dog walkers. No one with anyone else, so single joggers, runners, or general folks out for a stroll it was.
Daniel set himself up against a tree in a more shaded part of the park and watched carefully for his target. He waited quite awhile, wanting his first test to be just right.
After 20 minutes, he finally saw Old Man McGill. The guy was well known around town for his general good nature, social stances, and volunteer work, but he was getting on in years. Daniel could tell that the guy's hip surgery was still in the recovery stage as McGill was limping and even wincing slightly as he walked the park. It was then that Daniel decided maybe he could help the guy and test the SR at the same time.
He thought that Old Man McGill would be much better off as a silver fox - a muscle daddy who could help in all the ways he was growing too old to help but also be an advocate for LGBTQ+ youth. He aimed the SR and pushed the button when Old Man McGill was about 10 feet away.
Daniel almost expected a "bzzzzzzz" sound to emanate from the device. Or at least a beam of some sort. But nothing. However, a moment later, Old Man McGill stumbled.
Daniel was horrified and afraid he might have hurt the guy. But when McGill stood up, he patted his hip and then continued to walk forward. With no limp. And looking a little younger than his former 80-year-old visage. He also didn't seem to notice anything different.
Daniel, relieved, and happy that it appeared to work, aimed and pressed the button again. This time, instead of a quick tap, he held it for a second.
McGill paused again and looked around, then down at himself. He looked at his hands that appeared less wrinkled. His face was less worn. He felt the top of his head, and there was hair! Something that hadn't been there for decades – right? – or, had it always been there?
Daniel aimed and fired again, and McGill looked at him and started to walk over. He asked, "You! Do I look different to you?"
"What do you mean?" Daniel feigned ignorance.
"I– I don't know. I just feel... I feel younger, more energetic. Fewer pains."
"Well that sounds good, right?" Daniel asked. "Momma always said that fresh and and sunshine does a body good!"
McGill ran a hand through his silver, neck-length hair and looked up at the trees, thinking. Daniel took the opportunity to fire at him again.
McGill immediately shuddered and groped his crotch. "What– what happened?"
"What do you mean?" Daniel asked, looking the man over. A tight goatee had grown on Not-So-Old Man McGill, speckled salt-and-pepper, while his face filled out with a small layer of fat or, perhaps a more chiseled bone structure. Daniel had to look up a little as the man had grown a few inches. A ring appeared on his middle finger, and his long-sleeved shirt was now a tight black t-shirt. His pants had grown tighter, and a prominent bulge had formed in the middle.
McGill replied, "I feel fucking horny and my eyes seem better and my clothes seem to be changing. Am I losing my mind? Surely you're seeing these changes?"
Daniel felt a little – just a little – sorry for the guy, so he replied, "One more ought to do it and you'll be a new man. I'm doing you a solid, this isn't a bad thing, just go with it. And hopefully you won't remember this in a few minutes, anyway." Daniel aimed and pressed the button again.
McGill's black pants shrunk to tight compression shorts, the imprint of a jock strap growing clear through them as it clearly got wet – the guy just creamed his pants. As he came, the muscle grew across his body, piling on his strong legs, solid core, and thick arms and neck. His pecs pushed out the compression top and the outline of a leather harness could be seen through the shirt. A ring appeared in his left ear and a thick band around his right bicep. His phone materialized in the band as a carrying device, but everyone knew that was just an excuse for him to wear more accessories. His goatee grew a little in length and a thin, shaved line through his right eyebrow materialized.
Daniel's mouth fell open, looking at the newly minted silver fox, but he had the presence of mind to tuck the laser pointer back between his butt cheeks, lest Foxy McGill take it from him.
"You're Daniel, right?" he asked.
Daniel nodded.
McGill looked over himself and tweaked one his nipples, moaning a little. People passing by just shook their heads, Foxy McGill was out and about again.
"I don't know really what you did or how you did it, but I do know I can put that mouth to good use. Follow me, boy."
Daniel dutifully followed the man into the tree cover of Shawing's central park, away from prying eyes. McGill looked around and, seeing no one, turned around and put his hand on Daniel's head, pushing him down to his knees.
"Seems like I made a mess, clean it up, boy, and then I'll baste you with another sweet treat load." McGill pushed down his pants, and looked expectantly at Daniel.
Daniel felt compelled to shove his face in the man's wet jockstrap, the smell of cum overwhelming his senses. He tentatively stuck out his tongue, and after the first delicate lick, opened wide and sucked and slobbered all over the used jock. When he couldn't taste any more come coming through, he pulled the strap down with his teeth and licked all around McGill's balls before taking in his heady, heavy cock, which had never dropped below semi-hard. He sucked and licked the 8" dick until – as with the jock – no trace of cum remained.
He distinctly remembered doing this before, at least two or three times, but he also knew that it had never happened. Neither set of memories seemed more real or fake than before, but they were both stable in his mind. He supposed that this was how the SR worked for the user: It let them keep their old memories while also giving them new ones from the changed reality so they could fit in and act the new normal.
McGill had been standing passively, muscular arms crossed over his impressive chest, tweaking a nipple through his thin, tight shirt. As he sensed Daniel finishing up, McGill grabbed Daniel's head with both hands and started to skull-fuck his face. "You made me cream my pants, boy, but I want your tight hole. You're gonna get me ready to fuck you, and that's not a threat, it's a promise."
Daniel gagged as he tried to fit the whole sausage down his throat, losing most sense of what was going on as Foxy McGill pounded his face, until Daniel felt a click of something in his ass. "Oh no!" he thought. Which was weird, he meant to think "FUCK!" He must have pressed the laser pointer and activated the SR on himself. He didn't know what he was thinking about or what changes it might have made, but he needed to get control and stop it from happening again.
He was taking McGill with ease – no gag reflex after years of throat training – but he looked up with wanton eyes that were a little big for his face and stared at McGill longingly. His pouty lips bubbled around McGill's dick, but the look told McGill that he should get to fucking the poor guy.
McGill withdrew and Daniel shucked his pants and briefs, pulling the laser pointer out discretely and, as he leaned over to present his hole, carefully put the pointer in his sock for safer keeping. McGill lost no time in running his tongue up and down Daniel's pucker before rubbing his goatee gently across Daniel's winking hole.
"Oh my!" Daniel exclaimed as he shuddered, and he felt his ankle press something.
"Mmmmmmmm," Foxy McGill moaned into Daniel's hole. "I love how bubbly your booty is, and your hole tastes delicious. And nice and tight but with that perfect amount of 'give,'" he narrated as he dove back in.
Daniel's eyes rolled up into his head as McGill tongued a little more, then spat on his dick and unceremoniously shoved it in Daniel's hole.
"Oh heck yeah!" Daniel screamed into his arm as he felt McGill's thick cock fill his innards. McGill pounded and pounded away at Daniel's hole, making sure that Daniel's short, high-pitched whimpers never changed to ones of pain or signs of distress. McGill took pride in making sure he enhanced the quality of life of the LGBTQ+ community in Shawing and he surely didn't want to cause harm to anyone.
As he pounded Daniel's hole, he leaned across Daniel's back and tweaked Daniels' nipples. Daniel shuddered and felt another click near his ankle. His tits were on fire, stretching like putty in McGill's hands, and he felt his hole tighten up around McGill's large dick as it continued to pound his prostate.
"Please, Sir! More!" Daniel cried out and McGill was only too happy to oblige. However, he was getting close. He'd already cum once that morning, but Daniel's moans and tight hold were spurring him on and he was about to cream.
"Ug!" he cried out as he quickly yanked his dick out of Daniel's hole, twisted the younger man around, and showered Daniel's waiting face with wide open mouth in cum. He shuddered as he shot three thick streams before petering out, gasping and pulling firmly on his dick. Daniel swallowed it all and then wrapped his tight lips around McGill's cock, milking the final few drops out as he used one hand to rub his spent hole and with the other hand his puffy nipple.
When there was no more cream to be had, Foxy McGill pulled his pants back up as did Daniel.
"Thanks, Daniel, for everything," he winked and walked back to the path. "See you tonight at the city council meeting?" he called over his shoulder.
"Wowie!" Daniel thought, using his hand to clean the cum off his face and shove it in his mouth. Then, he had a brief flash of memory, and reached for the SR in his sock. It was gone.
Panicked, he looked around on the ground of the park, trying to find the black laser pointer. A dog walker wandered near him and asked if he was looking for something and if she could help him find it. "Yeah," Daniel replied, standing up. "I'm looking for– for ... I don't remember!" The dog walker asked the usual: Keys, wallet, phone. Daniel had them all.
She looked a bit sorry towards him and suggested, "Well, if it was important, hopefully you'll remember and find it!" before walking off.
Meanwhile, Foxy McGill was back on the outer ring path of Shawing's central park with a laser pointer in his pocket.
Post Script: This story was inspired by a dream I had several years ago, and it was re-inspired by a story I read on here from the archives from more than six years ago (“The Cuteification Ray and the Boy with the Big Eyes” by Sillyboys). The intent is some small, hopefully horny vignettes. This is a first stab at a chapter to gauge reactions. If you like it, please let me know!
Also, I have started a Patreon and expect to be writing more (and people have suggested it); at this point, I intend to post all stories there first, then to some gay-themed story websites (such as this one!) after some undefined waiting period. Depending on response and scale, there is the possibility of some exclusive content there, but that’s TBD . Let’s just say I’m one of those people in the US who rely on federal grant money that might be disappearing as part of a convicted felon’s big ugly budget request, so I’m hedging my bets and being proactive about an alternative - if tiny - revenue stream. If you have a wish list for what you wish erotica authors would offer on Patreon or something similar, please let me know.
