Empty locker room, late at night.  Two best friends just completed their workout. Something felt different that night. There was a tension in the air.

During the workout, John took control, pushing them further, more weight, more reps. Pete was struggling to keep up, but he would not tell his friend that. He just kept telling himself to do it, not to disappoint his friend. It took all of his strength just to finish. His muscles were rubbery and weak when the got to the locker room.  It hurt just to pull his tee shirt over his head.

He looks over and sees his best friend, pumped up and glistening with sweat. John suddenly looks different standing in front of him. Taller? More masculine? More confident? Was
he always that incredibly hot? His abs, his cock pushing out the pouch of his jock.Was his buddy hard?  He
couldn’t stop staring at John’s body all of a sudden. Something inside Pete was
changing. Then John spoke:

“Whats up dude, your pale and shaking?”…
no response. Just staring.

“You want to taste my
cum, don’t you?” As if in a trance, Pete nodded yes.

“Open your
mouth, faggot.”

His heart raced at
being called a faggot, by his best friend. No one ever referred to him as that before. He was a man, wasn’t he? He felt his
cock begin to swell in spite of, or maybe because of, the new name he was given. He stared up at John, as he stepped up close. He could smell the sweat and testosterone coming off him.

He wanted to know what John’s cock tasted like. He wanted to bring John pleasure.

Unexplained tears
formed behind his eyes as he felt the shame of desire. He knew it was wrong, it went against every fiber of his being, but he wanted to serve his buddy.

John’s thick cock was pulled out of the side of the pouch. It pointed straight ahead.  Pete could feel the power in that cock.

Then, as if his will had been taken away, he slowly began to open his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s it faggot, suck my meat. Time for you to become the cocksucker you were always meant to be.”