m/m The Revenge of Jafar (Final Chapter added 08/29/2020)

[lazer0100]

On 7/24/2020 at 1:18 PM, hunklover said:

The problem is, I'm a baby when it comes to writing and in my head, the concept of this story was far easier to deliver than it actually was.

The main issue is, when you take an antagonist who is near-omnipotent to begin with who only has one goal - true omnipotence - it can only really end two ways. He gets what he wants or he doesn't. I don't doubt that far more talented authors than I could've taken this premise and rounded it out to be a truly amazing story with a satisfying ending; people like JayPat, Absman420, Herald, MuscleNexusTF or muscleaddict could have made this truly explosive.

I long for the day when NCGazza reopens Microsoft Word and sits infront of his keyboard again - his work pushed all my buttons when it came to power acquistion and growth.

you're not a baby in writing, best story i read in a LONG time! After this amazing build up, I would love any ending! Do you have a donate-button?  

[hunklover]

The Revenge of Jafar: Chapter 10 - "We've Only Just Begun"

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? It was near impossible to tell. The scarlet sky never seemed to fully darken into night. Time had begun to lose all meaning.
Sure, clocks had kept ticking, but Marcus had smashed his smart watch, phone, Laptop, TV, wireless printer… pretty much anything he owned that had a screen and an internet connection had been obliterated in his efforts to try to keep his thoughts his own. He was determined to not allow himself to to become another of Jafar’s mindless servants.  He’d been heartbroken when the old LCD Casio watch his parents had given him on his 18th birthday had began to scroll “JAFAR IS HERE” over and over again, more-so when he had crushed it under his heel and threw the mangled components into the rubbish bin: It was just one in a long line of adjustments he’d had to make - being the only man left on the planet not enslaved to the self-proclaimed Master of Eternity, “Jafar”.

His stomach rumbled loudly, as he paced down the isles of the abandoned Tesco on Market Street. The lights were still on, the music still playing from the in-store system, but the whole store stank of rotten produce as what had previously been fresh had turned to mush. Marcus casually looked over the use-by dates of the cans of food he stuffed into his back pack, hoping that what he was choosing wasn’t too far past its best. Food, so it seemed, was something Jafar’s army had little need for. He’d never seen a single one of the mindless masses stop to eat, or drink for that matter, and yet since their enslavement, the population of Manchester had seemed to grow stronger, healthier, more youthful and perfect as the days passed… however many days had passed though, was anyone’s guess.

The city had changed dramatically too. Marcus had concluded that whoever Jafar was, he’d been deeply offended that the world had dared to worship any other creature before his arrival. And so, churches, synagogs, mosques and temples were littered with slaves, all working to transform them into Cathedrals fit to accommodate him and his worshipers. Any of his slaves that possessed significant talents; musically, artistically or in any other way were used to create new masterpieces to showcase his triumph in conquering the earth. The rest were free to explore each other sexually, and find new ways in which they might please their master. Sand now covered the roads and pathways, the air was warm and dry - it was as though the whole of England, perhaps the world was being transformed into a barren wasteland, only existing as a monument to the creature they all worshipped so gladly.

As he stalked cautiously through the city, back to his home, Marcus couldn’t help but think of how the world used to be. His mind wondered to the women and children of earth - seemingly spirited away, hidden from sight. He wondered if Jafar had in some small way been merciful towards them and spared them this miserable existence he now suffered, but that small bubble of hope was popped as he reached into his pocket for his keys. His hand sifted a collection of loose change, now useless in every way. On the face of the coins, where once had been the proud face of Queen Elizabeth II, there now sat the sneering grin of Jafar - her crown floating above his head. This creature was an egomaniac, a monster, a true blight on the planet but somehow, God.

Marcus stepped into his apartment complex and removed the heavy backpack from his wide shoulders. Since the world had started to change, the only comfort he’d found was in pushing his body further and further in trying to become stronger, faster and better equipped for whatever he encountered. As such, his body had packed on pounds of muscle and his fat had all but melted away; he looked down at his vascular arms turning his hands over in slight admiration at how good his biceps looked when they jumped and flexed with the movements of his fingers. He knew that whatever happened to him, he was battle ready.

————————————————————

In seemingly every direction, across a near infinite plane, luxury and opulence spread as far as the eye could see. Sat at the centre of it all was The One. Jafar, standing approximately 150ft tall he had created the palace of his dreams.  He sat atop an enlarged version of the throne he’d so lovingly created all those hours ago in Jake’s meagre hotel room, but now as he surveyed the space he occupied he couldn’t help bask in its comforts and beauty. The finest materials, meticulously honed with magic had been used to craft a grand, gold-domed throne room. Braziers, suspended in mid-air with a small enchantment burned brightly, illuminating the flowing river of Jafar’s golden semen that surrounded the throne like an internal moat.

Every inch of Jafar’s skin was being caressed, stroked, massaged, lubed, stimulated, sucked, or kissed by hundreds and hundreds of his playthings. At his feet, thousands more prostrated themselves before him, waiting for their turn to step forward and touch his godliness. At this very moment, a twinkish-looking man who had previously been the C.M.O of some sort of car rental company was sliding down his urethra to massage it from within. At the same time, a newly created mid-20s bodybuilder, who had previously been a greying, middle aged man was deep inside his rectum, pounding on his prostrate, working in unison with the rest of the slaves to pleasure their master. Jafar knew them, he knew all of them intimately; he knew their pre-enslavement lives - their hopes, desires, dreams and so, he’d allowed them to become their own fantasies in order to fulfil his. That was the problem.

As he reclined in his throne, his frustration began to grow. Starting as mild annoyance and blossoming into a full-blown rage. He raised his clawed hands into the air and the sensations instantly stopped.

“FUCK!” He screeched deeply. “FUUUUUUUCK!”

This was no good. Since his ascension to godhood he’d had the world, HIS world under his complete control. His every whim and desire was being catered to without delay or impediment and yet he had been unfulfilled. He was controlling every aspect of life on earth as the eternal puppet-master. And so when it came to sexual pleasure, what should have been an endless orgy of sheer ecstasy had become something akin to trying to tickle oneself. He was bored - he knew what was coming, and it wasn’t him.

“TOTALLY INADEQUATE!” He boomed and snapped his fingers. In an instant he disappeared from the enormous throne room, his slaves dropping to the floor with heavy impacts - yet returning to their feet unharmed. Those who’d chosen to follow Jafar willingly had been gifted bodies that could cope with the punishment he was capable of dishing out.

Jafar appeared floating aside the planet Mercury, now thousands of miles tall.  His anger flowing over him as sparks of white lightening, his eyes glowing brightly and wildly. He looked down upon the large grey ball and thrust forwards, cracking the surface with the mere power of the tip of his inhuman penis. His sexual hunger was reaching a fever-pitch.

He gripped the planet, his claws sinking into the surface of it and began fucking it mercilessly, plowing deep into its crust, and altering the shape of the surface, forever. He groaned in delight.. his power flowing freely through him, his might battering into the surface of the planet below him. He forced his shaft deeper and deeper as cracks began to form across the surface of the plant; magma spewing violently from the newly formed fractures. Finally, he penetrated through to the other side of the diminutive orb and furiously blasted his infernal seed into the cosmos.
As he began to wind down from his galactic orgasm, he looked to the two halves of the sphere he held in each hand.

“Better?” Jake asked, as if he were talking to a toddler who’d just been handed a juice box.

“This is not at all how I imagined it.” Jafar rapidly responded.

“I warned you.” Jake replied. “I asked you to consider free-will and independence.”

“I know.” Jafar replied, flatly.

“And now all we have is a mindless collection of human fleshlights.” Jake sighed.

“I. KNOW.” Jafar angrily grunted.

Jake raised their hands to hold the half-planets before themselves. “You and I.” He began. “We’re two parts of a whole. Together in harmony… able to do whatever we desire, for all eternity.”

“Yes?”

“So, we’ve tried it your way…” Jake purred, pushing the halves together, restoring the planet to its pre-penetrated state. “Why don’t we try mine?”

————————————————————

Marcus might not have been the smartest man on the planet. Actually, with almost every other man seemingly a mindless, sexual zombie, he now might be. In any case, he might not be a genius, but if he’d ever harboured worries about his laziness, they had evaporated as he adjusted to his “Jafarcalyptic” existence. He’d knocked down the walls between his and the neighbouring studio apartments - the occupants seemingly left and never returned. He’d ‘borrowed’ a collection of lights from a hydroponic shop in the Northern Quarter and created a compact farm for fresh fruits and vegetables at one end of the enlarged apartment. Finally, he’d taken advantage of the world seeming to not care about possessions or belongings in an attempt to make his own existence more comfortable.

He lowered a record on to the 70’s Bang&Olufsen turntable he’d ‘borrowed’ from a high-end audio shop across town. The needle moved automatically towards the surface of the disk and began to spin; the space filling with the warm voice of Andy Williams. “We’ve only just begun to live”.

In his analogue-only existence, Marcus’ tastes had been forced to shift to accommodate the media he could lay his hands on, still he couldn’t help but despise the irony of the lyrics. He put away all of the cans, bar one which he opened and poured out into a metallic dish. As he crossed the floor towards the neighbouring apartment he’d now made exclusively into his bedroom, he was greeted by Hope; the grey and white Siberian husky he’d taken in off the street so long ago. She excitedly roused from her sleep and bounded over to him, pouncing on him and adoringly licking his face.
“Okay! Okay girl!” He happily replied. “I love you too, now c’mon, it’s dinner time”.
He sat the food down on the floor and Hope quickly dived her snout into the bowl. Marcus slumped onto the bed watching his only friend and companion in the world contentedly fill her face, sadness slowly filling his. His eyes began to burn as he blinked back tears, he couldn’t help but think of his family, his friends, even Jake… all of them seemingly gone without a trace. It proved too much, the emotional dam burst and he exploded into thick, heavy sobs.

“We'll find a place where there's room to grow.
And yes, we've just….” Silence. The record hadn’t skipped, the music hadn’t slowed. It had simply stopped. The sudden change in the ambient volume snapped Marcus’ attention back to the here and now. He leapt to his feet and tip-toed over to the vintage hifi, grabbing a cricket bat as he did. As he reached the music centre, he looked to see that though the record was still spinning, the needle still resting in the grooves of the vinyl, the sound had vanished. He looked down to see the familiar glow of the amplifier’s V.U meters had vanished. He concluded that it must have blown a valve or capacitor and was now fit only for scrap. He sighed heavily and looked around the room. He could fill his time with one of the collection of DVDs and VHS tapes he’d amassed, all played through an ancient CRT television he’d relieved from the window of a retro clothing store, but music was one of the only things that seemed to calm him. and he desperately tried to think of a way he could bring it back to his life. Then he remembered. In the desk drawer at his and Jake’s previously shared home, his old iPod lay unused for years, yet stuffed with gigabytes of albums.

His eyes darted across to the keys he still possessed - it wasn’t like Jake was around to stop him.

————————————————————

Jafar was thoroughly displeased. No. He was apocalyptically angry.

“HOW MANY?!” He internally yelled.

“Just him. As far as I know. Just Marcus.” Jake replied, calmly and directly.

“JUST? Him? JUST your ex lover? JUST the man who knows you more intimately than any other human on the planet?” He growled.

“And he’ll do what with that knowledge? Hmm? He has no power, he has no means to harm us.” Jake stated, matter-of-factly.

“SO WHY?! WHY EVEN ALLOW HIM TO RETAIN HIS MIND?” Exploded Jafar, his anger and hatred seething throughout his entire body.

“When he left us… me… he thought he didn’t need me. He thought he’d survive just fine on his own. I wanted to test his theory.” Jake said without emotion.

Jafar paused for a second, comprehending Jake’s intent. “And you think I’m evil and twisted.” He sighed.

The Jake half of the new Jafar took the words “evil” and “twisted” as a compliment. He saw no issue in being labelled in such a way. Jafar may have tried to couch the terms of his omnipotence as being some how beneficial for mankind, but Jake knew better - the only creature it benefitted was them. If the God of all humanity, all space and time couldn’t be allowed to be a little “evil” and “twisted” from time to time, what was the point in having all that power? The more he thought about it, the more he realised it was simply what Jafar had unleashed within him when the two had become one, mentally and physically.

“Jafar, your way created order and simplicity across the globe. Every man on earth living to fulfil our needs, but mindless devotion means we have to be the ones to take the reins for each and every one of them. I think you’ll agree that complete control sounds more fun than the reality we’ve created.” Jake purred, mentally massaging Jafar into calmness.

Jafar was still, relaxed and soothed. Just moments ago, he had sought to find a way to mentally expunge Jake from his godliness and be rid of the boy for good, and now he was so enraptured by Jake’s wisdom and wickedness, he knew he was right.

“Okay.” Jafar agreed. “What’s the plan?”

————————————————————

The key slipped smoothly into the lock and without effort allowed Marcus to gain entry into the large, mill apartment. He’d half expected that Jake would have changed the locks, attempted to prevent Marcus from ever returning. But, he knew that even though their breakup had been messy, their fine conversation had been hurtful, Jake wasn’t a malicious person.

He looked around, aside from a collection of dead or dying houseplants, the apartment was spotless - just how Jake liked it. Marcus looked over to the sideboard, covered with a collection of photographs of the two of them in happier times. It was strange that Jake had chosen to still display them, but Marcus pushed that thought out of his mind. He strode towards the bedroom, and once there, opened the bottom drawer of the 1930’s industrial desk. After a short rummage, he found a treasure - his 30GB iPod Classic, the earphones and charger wrapped around it.

He walked back to the large, open plan living room, unwound the cables and plugged the device in to charge, smiling happily to himself when he saw the familiar Apple logo followed by an indication that the battery was juicing up. It dawned on Marcus that, if he wanted to, he could easily move back into the large, unused space. He sank into the sofa and allowed the thought to percolate. Imagining moving his collection of plants and old electronics into the space. He allowed himself to imagine the room lit with candles, filled with music and him being mercilessly plowed by one of Jafar’s Herculean slaves.

“NO!” He thought to himself. He’d had moments of temptation prior to this one. As a gay man, the streets were becoming more and more appealing to walk around - scantily clad men, of all shapes and sizes strode nearly naked. Vast orgies had become commonplace. As time passed, the crowds became more and more appealing, and not just because of Marcus’ lack of sexual contact. Jafar’s hypnotic magic appeared to work slowly on those who had not chosen to blindly follow his lead; slowly corrupting and transforming them into the best potential versions of themselves. Skinny, near-death old men had gained mass and youth, warping and twisting into becoming bearded, muscular leather-daddies. Boyish, 30-year-old weaklings exploded with strength and girth, shifting into huge, massively hung body-builders; their cock’s barely able to be stuffed into their posing pouches.

All across the city, the country, the world, men were becoming the ultimate versions of themselves, fucking, sucking, wanking and rimming with literal gay-abandon. The thought of it was becoming too much, and Marcus’ nub of a penis began to harden. Deciding he needed a distraction, he stood up, grabbed the iPod and returned to the sofa. He pressed the earbuds into his ears, and jabbed play.

With his eyes closed, his ears flooded with music and his back to the front door, it was hardly surprising that he failed to notice the handle turning or the door opening. When it slammed shut though, his head snapped round to face the intruder. His eyes going wide with shock.

[lazer0100]

6 hours ago, hunklover said:

The Revenge of Jafar: Chapter 10 - "We've Only Just Begun"

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? It was near impossible to tell. The scarlet sky never seemed to fully darken into night. Time had begun to lose all meaning.
Sure, clocks had kept ticking, but Marcus had smashed his smart watch, phone, Laptop, TV, wireless printer… pretty much anything he owned that had a screen and an internet connection had been obliterated in his efforts to try to keep his thoughts his own. He was determined to not allow himself to to become another of Jafar’s mindless servants.  He’d been heartbroken when the old LCD Casio watch his parents had given him on his 18th birthday had began to scroll “JAFAR IS HERE” over and over again, more-so when he had crushed it under his heel and threw the mangled components into the rubbish bin: It was just one in a long line of adjustments he’d had to make - being the only man left on the planet not enslaved to the self-proclaimed Master of Eternity, “Jafar”.

His stomach rumbled loudly, as he paced down the isles of the abandoned Tesco on Market Street. The lights were still on, the music still playing from the in-store system, but the whole store stank of rotten produce as what had previously been fresh had turned to mush. Marcus casually looked over the use-by dates of the cans of food he stuffed into his back pack, hoping that what he was choosing wasn’t too far past its best. Food, so it seemed, was something Jafar’s army had little need for. He’d never seen a single one of the mindless masses stop to eat, or drink for that matter, and yet since their enslavement, the population of Manchester had seemed to grow stronger, healthier, more youthful and perfect as the days passed… however many days had passed though, was anyone’s guess.

The city had changed dramatically too. Marcus had concluded that whoever Jafar was, he’d been deeply offended that the world had dared to worship any other creature before his arrival. And so, churches, synagogs, mosques and temples were littered with slaves, all working to transform them into Cathedrals fit to accommodate him and his worshipers. Any of his slaves that possessed significant talents; musically, artistically or in any other way were used to create new masterpieces to showcase his triumph in conquering the earth. The rest were free to explore each other sexually, and find new ways in which they might please their master. Sand now covered the roads and pathways, the air was warm and dry - it was as though the whole of England, perhaps the world was being transformed into a barren wasteland, only existing as a monument to the creature they all worshipped so gladly.

As he stalked cautiously through the city, back to his home, Marcus couldn’t help but think of how the world used to be. His mind wondered to the women and children of earth - seemingly spirited away, hidden from sight. He wondered if Jafar had in some small way been merciful towards them and spared them this miserable existence he now suffered, but that small bubble of hope was popped as he reached into his pocket for his keys. His hand sifted a collection of loose change, now useless in every way. On the face of the coins, where once had been the proud face of Queen Elizabeth II, there now sat the sneering grin of Jafar - her crown floating above his head. This creature was an egomaniac, a monster, a true blight on the planet but somehow, God.

Marcus stepped into his apartment complex and removed the heavy backpack from his wide shoulders. Since the world had started to change, the only comfort he’d found was in pushing his body further and further in trying to become stronger, faster and better equipped for whatever he encountered. As such, his body had packed on pounds of muscle and his fat had all but melted away; he looked down at his vascular arms turning his hands over in slight admiration at how good his biceps looked when they jumped and flexed with the movements of his fingers. He knew that whatever happened to him, he was battle ready.

————————————————————

In seemingly every direction, across a near infinite plane, luxury and opulence spread as far as the eye could see. Sat at the centre of it all was The One. Jafar, standing approximately 150ft tall he had created the palace of his dreams.  He sat atop an enlarged version of the throne he’d so lovingly created all those hours ago in Jake’s meagre hotel room, but now as he surveyed the space he occupied he couldn’t help bask in its comforts and beauty. The finest materials, meticulously honed with magic had been used to craft a grand, gold-domed throne room. Braziers, suspended in mid-air with a small enchantment burned brightly, illuminating the flowing river of Jafar’s golden semen that surrounded the throne like an internal moat.

Every inch of Jafar’s skin was being caressed, stroked, massaged, lubed, stimulated, sucked, or kissed by hundreds and hundreds of his playthings. At his feet, thousands more prostrated themselves before him, waiting for their turn to step forward and touch his godliness. At this very moment, a twinkish-looking man who had previously been the C.M.O of some sort of car rental company was sliding down his urethra to massage it from within. At the same time, a newly created mid-20s bodybuilder, who had previously been a greying, middle aged man was deep inside his rectum, pounding on his prostrate, working in unison with the rest of the slaves to pleasure their master. Jafar knew them, he knew all of them intimately; he knew their pre-enslavement lives - their hopes, desires, dreams and so, he’d allowed them to become their own fantasies in order to fulfil his. That was the problem.

As he reclined in his throne, his frustration began to grow. Starting as mild annoyance and blossoming into a full-blown rage. He raised his clawed hands into the air and the sensations instantly stopped.

“FUCK!” He screeched deeply. “FUUUUUUUCK!”

This was no good. Since his ascension to godhood he’d had the world, HIS world under his complete control. His every whim and desire was being catered to without delay or impediment and yet he had been unfulfilled. He was controlling every aspect of life on earth as the eternal puppet-master. And so when it came to sexual pleasure, what should have been an endless orgy of sheer ecstasy had become something akin to trying to tickle oneself. He was bored - he knew what was coming, and it wasn’t him.

“TOTALLY INADEQUATE!” He boomed and snapped his fingers. In an instant he disappeared from the enormous throne room, his slaves dropping to the floor with heavy impacts - yet returning to their feet unharmed. Those who’d chosen to follow Jafar willingly had been gifted bodies that could cope with the punishment he was capable of dishing out.

Jafar appeared floating aside the planet Mercury, now thousands of miles tall.  His anger flowing over him as sparks of white lightening, his eyes glowing brightly and wildly. He looked down upon the large grey ball and thrust forwards, cracking the surface with the mere power of the tip of his inhuman penis. His sexual hunger was reaching a fever-pitch.

He gripped the planet, his claws sinking into the surface of it and began fucking it mercilessly, plowing deep into its crust, and altering the shape of the surface, forever. He groaned in delight.. his power flowing freely through him, his might battering into the surface of the planet below him. He forced his shaft deeper and deeper as cracks began to form across the surface of the plant; magma spewing violently from the newly formed fractures. Finally, he penetrated through to the other side of the diminutive orb and furiously blasted his infernal seed into the cosmos.
As he began to wind down from his galactic orgasm, he looked to the two halves of the sphere he held in each hand.

“Better?” Jake asked, as if he were talking to a toddler who’d just been handed a juice box.

“This is not at all how I imagined it.” Jafar rapidly responded.

“I warned you.” Jake replied. “I asked you to consider free-will and independence.”

“I know.” Jafar replied, flatly.

“And now all we have is a mindless collection of human fleshlights.” Jake sighed.

“I. KNOW.” Jafar angrily grunted.

Jake raised their hands to hold the half-planets before themselves. “You and I.” He began. “We’re two parts of a whole. Together in harmony… able to do whatever we desire, for all eternity.”

“Yes?”

“So, we’ve tried it your way…” Jake purred, pushing the halves together, restoring the planet to its pre-penetrated state. “Why don’t we try mine?”

————————————————————

Marcus might not have been the smartest man on the planet. Actually, with almost every other man seemingly a mindless, sexual zombie, he now might be. In any case, he might not be a genius, but if he’d ever harboured worries about his laziness, they had evaporated as he adjusted to his “Jafarcalyptic” existence. He’d knocked down the walls between his and the neighbouring studio apartments - the occupants seemingly left and never returned. He’d ‘borrowed’ a collection of lights from a hydroponic shop in the Northern Quarter and created a compact farm for fresh fruits and vegetables at one end of the enlarged apartment. Finally, he’d taken advantage of the world seeming to not care about possessions or belongings in an attempt to make his own existence more comfortable.

He lowered a record on to the 70’s Bang&Olufsen turntable he’d ‘borrowed’ from a high-end audio shop across town. The needle moved automatically towards the surface of the disk and began to spin; the space filling with the warm voice of Andy Williams. “We’ve only just begun to live”.

In his analogue-only existence, Marcus’ tastes had been forced to shift to accommodate the media he could lay his hands on, still he couldn’t help but despise the irony of the lyrics. He put away all of the cans, bar one which he opened and poured out into a metallic dish. As he crossed the floor towards the neighbouring apartment he’d now made exclusively into his bedroom, he was greeted by Hope; the grey and white Siberian husky he’d taken in off the street so long ago. She excitedly roused from her sleep and bounded over to him, pouncing on him and adoringly licking his face.
“Okay! Okay girl!” He happily replied. “I love you too, now c’mon, it’s dinner time”.
He sat the food down on the floor and Hope quickly dived her snout into the bowl. Marcus slumped onto the bed watching his only friend and companion in the world contentedly fill her face, sadness slowly filling his. His eyes began to burn as he blinked back tears, he couldn’t help but think of his family, his friends, even Jake… all of them seemingly gone without a trace. It proved too much, the emotional dam burst and he exploded into thick, heavy sobs.

“We'll find a place where there's room to grow.
And yes, we've just….” Silence. The record hadn’t skipped, the music hadn’t slowed. It had simply stopped. The sudden change in the ambient volume snapped Marcus’ attention back to the here and now. He leapt to his feet and tip-toed over to the vintage hifi, grabbing a cricket bat as he did. As he reached the music centre, he looked to see that though the record was still spinning, the needle still resting in the grooves of the vinyl, the sound had vanished. He looked down to see the familiar glow of the amplifier’s V.U meters had vanished. He concluded that it must have blown a valve or capacitor and was now fit only for scrap. He sighed heavily and looked around the room. He could fill his time with one of the collection of DVDs and VHS tapes he’d amassed, all played through an ancient CRT television he’d relieved from the window of a retro clothing store, but music was one of the only things that seemed to calm him. and he desperately tried to think of a way he could bring it back to his life. Then he remembered. In the desk drawer at his and Jake’s previously shared home, his old iPod lay unused for years, yet stuffed with gigabytes of albums.

His eyes darted across to the keys he still possessed - it wasn’t like Jake was around to stop him.

————————————————————

Jafar was thoroughly displeased. No. He was apocalyptically angry.

“HOW MANY?!” He internally yelled.

“Just him. As far as I know. Just Marcus.” Jake replied, calmly and directly.

“JUST? Him? JUST your ex lover? JUST the man who knows you more intimately than any other human on the planet?” He growled.

“And he’ll do what with that knowledge? Hmm? He has no power, he has no means to harm us.” Jake stated, matter-of-factly.

“SO WHY?! WHY EVEN ALLOW HIM TO RETAIN HIS MIND?” Exploded Jafar, his anger and hatred seething throughout his entire body.

“When he left us… me… he thought he didn’t need me. He thought he’d survive just fine on his own. I wanted to test his theory.” Jake said without emotion.

Jafar paused for a second, comprehending Jake’s intent. “And you think I’m evil and twisted.” He sighed.

The Jake half of the new Jafar took the words “evil” and “twisted” as a compliment. He saw no issue in being labelled in such a way. Jafar may have tried to couch the terms of his omnipotence as being some how beneficial for mankind, but Jake knew better - the only creature it benefitted was them. If the God of all humanity, all space and time couldn’t be allowed to be a little “evil” and “twisted” from time to time, what was the point in having all that power? The more he thought about it, the more he realised it was simply what Jafar had unleashed within him when the two had become one, mentally and physically.

“Jafar, your way created order and simplicity across the globe. Every man on earth living to fulfil our needs, but mindless devotion means we have to be the ones to take the reins for each and every one of them. I think you’ll agree that complete control sounds more fun than the reality we’ve created.” Jake purred, mentally massaging Jafar into calmness.

Jafar was still, relaxed and soothed. Just moments ago, he had sought to find a way to mentally expunge Jake from his godliness and be rid of the boy for good, and now he was so enraptured by Jake’s wisdom and wickedness, he knew he was right.

“Okay.” Jafar agreed. “What’s the plan?”

————————————————————

The key slipped smoothly into the lock and without effort allowed Marcus to gain entry into the large, mill apartment. He’d half expected that Jake would have changed the locks, attempted to prevent Marcus from ever returning. But, he knew that even though their breakup had been messy, their fine conversation had been hurtful, Jake wasn’t a malicious person.

He looked around, aside from a collection of dead or dying houseplants, the apartment was spotless - just how Jake liked it. Marcus looked over to the sideboard, covered with a collection of photographs of the two of them in happier times. It was strange that Jake had chosen to still display them, but Marcus pushed that thought out of his mind. He strode towards the bedroom, and once there, opened the bottom drawer of the 1930’s industrial desk. After a short rummage, he found a treasure - his 30GB iPod Classic, the earphones and charger wrapped around it.

He walked back to the large, open plan living room, unwound the cables and plugged the device in to charge, smiling happily to himself when he saw the familiar Apple logo followed by an indication that the battery was juicing up. It dawned on Marcus that, if he wanted to, he could easily move back into the large, unused space. He sank into the sofa and allowed the thought to percolate. Imagining moving his collection of plants and old electronics into the space. He allowed himself to imagine the room lit with candles, filled with music and him being mercilessly plowed by one of Jafar’s Herculean slaves.

“NO!” He thought to himself. He’d had moments of temptation prior to this one. As a gay man, the streets were becoming more and more appealing to walk around - scantily clad men, of all shapes and sizes strode nearly naked. Vast orgies had become commonplace. As time passed, the crowds became more and more appealing, and not just because of Marcus’ lack of sexual contact. Jafar’s hypnotic magic appeared to work slowly on those who had not chosen to blindly follow his lead; slowly corrupting and transforming them into the best potential versions of themselves. Skinny, near-death old men had gained mass and youth, warping and twisting into becoming bearded, muscular leather-daddies. Boyish, 30-year-old weaklings exploded with strength and girth, shifting into huge, massively hung body-builders; their cock’s barely able to be stuffed into their posing pouches.

All across the city, the country, the world, men were becoming the ultimate versions of themselves, fucking, sucking, wanking and rimming with literal gay-abandon. The thought of it was becoming too much, and Marcus’ nub of a penis began to harden. Deciding he needed a distraction, he stood up, grabbed the iPod and returned to the sofa. He pressed the earbuds into his ears, and jabbed play.

With his eyes closed, his ears flooded with music and his back to the front door, it was hardly surprising that he failed to notice the handle turning or the door opening. When it slammed shut though, his head snapped round to face the intruder. His eyes going wide with shock.

Awesome chapter - when i thought it couldn't get any better, it did

[hunklover]

Thank you so much for all you reactions to this; it's genuinely rewarding to know you're enjoying it.

[hunklover]

The Revenge of Jafar: Chapter 11 - "You Are Not Alone"

It took a few seconds for Marcus’ brain to process what he was seeing. It took longer still for his mouth to catch up and vocalise his confusion and stupefaction. “What?! What the fuck are you doing here?” he stammered.

Standing in the doorway was Jake.

Only it wasn’t.

Where Marcus felt he’d aged a decade since the living nightmare had begun; deep lines appearing on his furrowed brow that he swore he’d never previously possessed, Jake looked younger than the very first time they’d ever met. His skin was covered in a deep, natural, all-over tan. A black silk shirt hung tightly over his bulbous pecs and shoulders, hugging his skin tightly - appearing practically painted onto his cobblestone abs. Below his chin, a thick, obsidian beard flowed up to a neat, precisely maintained moustache. It perfectly matched his newly coal coloured hair; slicked back on top and shaved short on the sides. His skin appeared flawless and smooth, Marcus noted, as his eyes traced down one of Jake’s thickly corded arms holding a large, designer, leather weekend bag.
 
“Well. This is my home. And, I live here.” Jake stated, removing his black aviator sunglasses with his free hand. “So I guess the more relevant question is: What the fuck are YOU doing here?” He barked, authoritatively.

The words caused Marcus to spring to his feet, he nervously shuffled closer to Jake and tried to explain. “I thought, I thought you’d changed like everyone else… I…” He stopped, having reached a few feet away from Jake. Was Jake taller? He definitely looked far bigger, far more defined and covered in muscle since they’d last seen each other. “…you look…”

“Incredible? I know.” Jake casually bragged as he strode past Marcus, the thick globes of his buttocks framed perfectly in a pair of cherry red linen trousers. His soft, tan leather sandals made no noise as he crossed the aged floorboards of the apartment. For someone who obviously possessed such weight and strength, he flowed as if he were an olympic gymnast on an arena floor - lightly and purposefully. Marcus marvelled at the fluidity of his movements and the slickness and confidence Jake’s body now exuded.

Placing the large leather bag onto the kitchen island, he reached inside and pulled out a dust-covered bottle of red wine. “Care to join me? Seeing as you’ve already made yourself at home?” Jake murmured, his tone somewhere between indifference and annoyance as he uncorked the bottle and began to pour.

Mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief, Marcus wandered over to the kitchen area and took the glass Jake had outstretched towards him. His fingers grasped it tightly and he looked at the deep purple of the liquid.

“So, let’s try again.” Jake began, Marcus’ eyes raising to meet his gaze. “Why are you here?”

Marcus looked dreamily into Jake’s eyes, he smiled a genuinely warm grin. “My God… you look amazing.” He found himself involuntarily stating.

Jake smirked internally, choosing to hear Marcus’ words as a more direct compliment of his deification: “You, My God, look amazing”.  Both he and Jafar were loving the fact that without even trying, Marcus was nearly entirely ensnared. But they had to slow down. Where’s the fun in skipping straight to desert without a little palate cleanser? Marcus deserved the full show.

“Marcus. Why. Did. You. Come. Here?” Jake bluntly asked.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Marcus shrugged, taking a glug of his wine. “Besides, I didn’t thin… good God this is delicious… where did you get this?”

Jake just stared blankly at Marcus who took another sip.

“I didn’t think you’d be here. Legitimately. I’m on my own… I’ve been on my own since…. Since it happened. Everyone I know has vanished… or been changed beyond all recognition.” He walked over to the large, panelled windows that ran the entire length of the apartment. “The whole sodding planet has changed.”

“Not that it was all that wonderful to begin with.” Jake muttered taking a drink.

Marcus allowed Jake’s words to hang in the air like the stale fart they were. He couldn’t believe anyone in their right mind could look at the world around them and think that in any way things weren’t utterly horrendous. And then a sickening thought crossed his mind. He turned slowly to face Jake, placing his glass on the windowsill.

“Are you?” Marcus started. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Jakes expression change from disinterest to disappointment. “Marcus, look at me.”

“I am.”

“Okay, then listen to me. We’re talking? Right? Have you tried speaking with one of ‘them’? So dull.” Jake dismissively stated.

Marcus again looked a Jake with a mixture of emotions. “Dull?” He asked. “I’ve found it more ‘horrifying’. More ‘heart wrenching’ to see the people I used to know; friends, colleagues, Hell, even the barmen who used to serve me become mindless sluts for an evil, sex-crazed megalomaniacal tyrant.”

Jafar seethed inside of Jake. The younger of the two of them working to keep both his, and his other’s tempers in control.

Jake raised his hands. “Do I look mindless?” He offered.

Marcus didn’t know what to say. He agreed; Jake didn’t look ‘mindless’, but then, he didn’t look like Jake. This walking pin-up looked like everything he’d ever hoped Jake could be and yet here he was, in the flesh, in the home they used to share. It made him feel uncomfortable. “I should get going.”

“Going?” Jake chuckled. “Going where?”

“I have to walk the dog.” Marcus replied as he began putting his shoes on. “I’m sorry I came here, I won’t disturb you agai...” Jakes hand wrapped around Marcus’ shoulder.

“I’ll come with you.” Jake earnestly said. “We don’t know how many of us ‘normies’ are left out there… we should stick together.”

————————————————————

As Marcus lead the way through the city streets, Jafar and Jake couldn’t help but admire their handiwork. Everywhere you looked statues, murals, paintings and tributes to Jafar could be seen. Historical art pieces had been torn down and in their place, new monuments to Jafar’s godliness had been erected. Speaking of erections, though the sand-covered streets were largely abandoned, the few men the pair had encountered had been in the process of a hard and vigorous fuck session. Marcus pulled Jake away from the scene and continued to direct them towards his apartment. Looking down towards his feet, Jake loved how the sand ran between his toes with every footstep - once he’d merely hoped to rule one city as its new sultan - now his desires had wrapped across the universe and what should have been a cold, British Autumnal night was now a hot and dry evening, similar to those felt in the middle of Agrabah all those years ago. As he kicked another small collection of sand as he walked, he stopped again… even the manhole covers now bore his perfect visage, a sinister grin crept onto his mouth.

“What’s put a smile on your face?” Marcus chirped, inquisitively.

Jake and Jafar had to think quickly. They slipped their palm against Marcus’ and interwove their fingers. “You.” He began. “I’m so, so pleased to have you.”

Marcus looked at their hands, clasped together. For the first time in so long, he felt the touch of another man, and a man he should feel he knew so well. Yet this Jake was practically a stranger. Marcus couldn’t deny it, Jake looked absolutely incredible - he’d always downplayed his looks, called himself “regular” or “normal” but wherever he’d been, whatever he’d been doing; it looked good on him. But it wasn’t just his looks that felt foreign to Marcus. Jake now carried himself with a swagger he’d previously never possessed; he seemed like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, where he was going and what was going to happen next. And it bothered Marcus.

“Hey, Jake?” He began. “Where did you go? When everything went crazy... where did you go? I mean, how come it took so long for us to find each other?” The questions poured from his mouth.

Jake shrugged and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “It’s a big city, Marc… thousands of people here.”

“Yeah, and all of them zombies.” Marcus paused. “Why us?” He asked internally.

 Jake said nothing and just continued to look at him.

 “Why out of everyone in this city, is it just you and me who aren’t affected?” He wanted to ask, but he realised that speculating on anything wasn’t going to help - Jake most likely held as few answers as he did, so he tightened his grip on Jakes hand and smiled at him as he continued leading the way.

————————————————————

“So, did you try the fuse?” Jake murmured as Marcus opened the door to his studio apartments.

“It just died J, it’s ancient. You know the saying ’they don’t make ‘em like they used to’? Turns out they never made them that well in the first place!” Marcus quickly replied, smiling as he did.

“It’ll be the fuse….” Jake teased as he stepped into the space Marcus now called home. He surveyed the knocked-through walls, the smashed and mangled HD TV that still hung on the wall and the collection of tomato plants growing under strips of lighting. “Stunning.” He exclaimed, sarcastically.

“Hey!” Marcus yelled with mock-offence. “It’s not much, but it’s mine. Well, this one is.” He gestured to the walls he’d demolished. “That one belonged to a ‘Mr. Thompson’, and THAT one, I believe was owned by some Chinese property management company.”

“Well, I don’t think much to the layout…” Jake purred, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ shoulders and looking deep into his eyes. “But I have to say, I love the view.” He lowered his lips towards Marcus’ and kissed him deeply, his unnaturally long tongue snaking into Marcus’ throat. As he gagged, Marcus looked pleadingly at Jake, desperate for this to stop immediately and at the same time, never end.

When Jake ended their kiss, Marcus was left gasping and gulping down lungfuls of air, his hands clinging to Jake’s bowling-ball biceps. “That!” He panted. “That’s definitely new.”

Jake chuckled softly and pulled Marcus closer to him, his gigantic cock semi-erect and pressing into Marcus’ stomach. “So is that.” He smiled.

Marcus eyes were instinctively drawn down to the whopping rod that was pushing against his abs. The outline was clear against Jake’s red linen slacks and it looked huge - easily a foot long and 7 inches thick. His mouth immediately filled with saliva, but his mind raced to his own, less-than-impressive equipment. His horniness was immediately tinged with a dark flash of jealousy.

Pulling away from Jake, he urgently sought to crush his feelings and regain control of his senses. “Oh!” He happily beeped. “I have someone I’d like you to meet. Hope!” He called, and from the curtained partition to the neighbouring apartment the large husky came bounding through, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth; her happiness apparent from her tail rapidly wagging behind her. Until she laid eyes on Jake. Without delay she bared her teeth and began viciously growling and barking towards him, a mixture of fear and hatred across her eyes.

“WOAH GIRL! HOPE! HOPE! CALM DOWN, BABY!” Marcus yelled at her, reaching for Hope’s collar and holding her back. “Obviously I don’t often have guests here!” Marcus tried to explain. “She’s very protective over me!”

Jake knew the real reason for her reaction; this mutt could clearly sense that something was not as it seemed. Jafar suggested to Jake that they should mentally squeeze the life out of her. Silence her aggravating yelps by starving her of oxygen. Jake decided on a more subtle approach. He locked eyes on the bitch and without uttering a single word issued the command “SILENCE”.  Hope whined and barked as her simple mind was assaulted with a compulsion that was not her own. Momentarily, she seemed to be in incredible pain, and then was quietened.

“I’d better take her out, calm her down.” Marcus suggested. “You’re welcome to stay here until I get back… make yourself comfortable.” He gestured towards the futon as he reached for her lead and headed out the door.

Jafar and Jake were alone once more. The opportunity to set their plan into motion was here.

————————————————————

“Why are we doing this?” Jafar grumbled. He was deeply bored. Between them, Jake and Jafar had the power to literally rip the universe in half, crush the pieces between their thumb and forefinger and recreate it from scratch without breaking a sweat. And yet, here they were, rewiring the plug to a Marantz amplifier by hand. At this moment, a bottle of wine was open and breathing on the coffee table, a selection of cheeses, grapes and crackers beside it. The apartments were littered with candles and they were freshly showered, one of Marcus’ towels wrapped around their waist. True, they had used some of their abilities to procure the candles, and the cheeses, the fruits and the wine, and, come to think about it, the fuse for the plug they had just finished screwing back together, but there was something enjoyable about completing a job manually.

“I know Marcus. I know that whilst we could ensnare him with words alone; he’d far rather we put a bit of work in.” Jake replied as he looked around the meagre surroundings, dimly lit by candlelight. This was the perfect setting to seduce him. “You have to think of us as a dentist’s drill rather than a sledgehammer” He continued to his other half.

“By this point, we could have ‘hammered’ him inside out.” Jafar pointedly replied.

“And so the boredom would continue.” Jake replied without delay, leafing through Marcus’ collection of LPs. He’d finally found the ideal one. He slipped the disk out of its sleeve, settled it onto the turntable and pressed the cue button.

Seconds later, they heard keys sliding into the lock mechanism. With a wave of their hand, they transported to the futon; reclining comfortably, glass of wine in hand, Donna Summer’s ‘Love to Love You Baby’ playing; filling the apartment.

Hope strutted into the room first, Jake locked eyes with her and issued a simple, silent command. “SLEEP”. She silently lowered her head and trotted to the corner of the room, where she curled up and rapidly fell asleep.  Marcus closed the door behind him, shucking off his shoes and socks, and turned to face Jake. “Woah” He exclaimed, admiring the small droplets of water sitting atop Jake’s mountainous pecs.

“Like what you see?” Jake smiled, patting the sofa next to him, inviting Marcus to sit beside him.

Marcus took the invitation and joined Jake on the sofa. He sank into the well-worn cushions and looked around him - Jake had clearly put a lot of effort into this. His eyes and ears were drawn to the music. He looked towards the amplifier. “You… fixed it?!” He quizzed.

“It WAS the fuse.” Jake replied, pushing a small chunk of cheese towards Marcus’ lips.

Marcus savoured the saltiness that danced across his tongue. The nutty flavours and complexity of the soft cheese. “Where on earth did you get brie?” He asked.

“Easy. When you know how.” Jake practically whispered, placing his hand around the back of Marcus’ head, stroking his hair. “And I could do so, so much more for you, Marc.”

The gap between them was slowly closing. Marcus’ eyes locked onto Jakes as their lips touched. It was electric, his whole body felt supercharged with eroticism. His hands instinctively ran down Jakes shoulders and to his lower back, trying to pull him closer, but being unable to shift his colossal weight.

Their tongues fought for supremacy, but soon the battle was won…. Jake shifted position so that he was laying on top of Marcus, his hips forcefully grinding into him as they continued to kiss. “Tell me what you want.” Jake grinned widely looking down upon the man.

“You.” Marcus panted, sensually. “I want you. I want you inside me. I want you to destroy me.”

“As you wish.” Jake sneered and ripped the buttons open on the scruffy shirt covering Marcus’ torso, his fingers then raking down Jake’s chest and stomach, scratching lightly as they did. With one swift pull, Marcus’ belt streamed through the loops of his shorts and flew through the air, landing across the room.

Jafar panted deeply. He had to agree, this WAS fun.

Marcus reached down to unravel Jakes towel and his eyes practically bulged out of his head - Jake now possessed the largest cock he’d ever seen. From root to tip, it was littered with finger-thick veins that seemed to pulse with virility. It was in equal parts arousing and fear inducing; not least of which was the apple sized head that was a deep, rich red. Marcus attempted to wrap his hands around the length, but was unable to completely circle the girth. Almost automatically, his mouth moved down to greet the cherry red head of the penis - a small dribble of precum flowing which he greedily extended his tongue to lap up. As soon as his mouth made contact with the fleshy spire, he was addicted - he licked and sucked to his hearts content. Jake looked down, enjoying the show his newest conquest was putting on for him so far.

Marcus’ mouth was barely able to stretch around the tip of Jake’s massive dick, but it didn’t stop Jake from running his hand through Marcus’ short hair and firmly pushing his mouth downwards. Pinning Marcus beneath him, forcefully. Marcus tried to resist, but with a ‘pop’ the cockhead slipped into his mouth and was smoothly followed by the additional inches of flesh. The pulsating veins throbbed against the walls of Marcus’ throat, his lungs began to burn as they became starved of air and tears streamed from his eyes - and yet, as desperate as his situation was, he tried to continue to worship the mammoth length as Jake’s eyes momentarily flared with bright, golden light.

“No.” Jake chided Jafar. “Hold back, this is all about control.”

Jake allowed his penis to slide all the way out of Marcus’ mouth whilst the man beneath him panted for air. Jake removed himself from atop Marcus and went back to reclining on the futon, arms behind his head, his eyes never letting Marcus out of his sight.

Marcus took a second to regain his composure, stepping up and backwards from Jake. Then he looked at Jake’s body; the rippling muscles and caramel coloured skin. Jake was perfection personified, and Marcus couldn’t resist any longer. He undid the button fly on his shorts and let them drop to the floor, followed by his boxers. He stood before Jake completely exposed; his toned body somehow unimpressive by contrast. He felt embarrassed to be naked before such an incredible specimen, he moved his hands to cover his meagre cock. Meanwhile, Jafar had raised a glass to his mouth with one hand and was reaching towards Marcus with the other; he pulled Marcus down towards him and the pair locked lips once again. The wine flowed between their mouths, their tongues dancing with each other, their hands flowing over every curve, and bulge of naked flesh the other possessed.

It was as though Jake knew exactly what Marcus wanted; every inch of his body was tantalising teased and caressed exactly as he loved it. Of course this was because Jake did know exactly what he wanted; he could read the man’s mind without effort. Internally, Jake and Jafar were revelling in the feelings of weakness and inadequacy they were building in Marcus; all of it mixed with a sexual need and a desire to please Jake… it was a delicious cocktail of lust and self-loathing.

Jake’s hands reached down to Marcus’ mushroom head and he began to massage it beneath his thumb whilst lapping and sucking on Marcus’ neck. It was ecstasy. Waves of orgasmic energy began to wash up and down Marcus’ body, from his toes to the top of his head. And then, Jake suddenly stopped. “Still want me to ‘destroy’ you?” He asked, a grin on his face, his eyes practically burning into Marcus’.

Marcus smiled nervously, and then he nodded weakly. In that moment, the hot red flesh of Jake’s sex was suddenly nestled in the crack of his buttocks.

“Well, ‘knock knock’.” Jake chuckled. “Time to let me in.” And he slowly began to slide into Marcus’ tight, unlubricated passageway.

The pain was extraordinarily awful. Marcus felt like he was about to be split in two. His anus was being stretched further and further in all directions as the cock that was thicker than his forearm went inch-after-inch inside him. As he shouted and wailed loudly, “Please stop! Please! You’re too big… I can’t!” He was rapidly hit with an intense blast of sheer bliss. From within, Jake’s penis was crushing his prostrate, and, thanks to a little sliver of magic, had dramatically increased its sensitivity. Every tiny movement caused pulses of euphoria and his pained cries became more erotically charged groans and moans. It was at this point he realised he was resting at the base of Jake’s span; a noticeable bulge pushing his abs outwards from the inside.

Jake looked up to the man he was buried inside of. “You lead, I’ll follow”. He sensually groaned.

Marcus forced his body upwards and away from Jake’s, and then with unnatural force, slammed himself back down all the way - the walls of his anus massaging Jake sublimely. Jake grunted as Marcus ground his arsecheecks against his churning ballsac. Marcus began to gain speed and momentum, feeling Jake’s heavy nuts slamming against him with every thrust - having the fuck of his life with the hunk of his dreams, with each movement, Jake’s penis ground against his love button, making him involuntarily squirm.

Jakes arms wrapped around the smaller man, he now began to thrust to match Marcus’ actions - their combined efforts resulting in a powerful crashing of his cock into Marcus’ insides. The passion exhibited by the pair was intense. As he continued to pound and drill with his huge tool, he growled like a bear. He pulled Marcus towards him, they kissed once more and this was clearly enough to send Marcus over the edge. He broke the kiss, gritted his teeth and grunted loudly as he unleashed a torrent of jizz onto Jake, so intensely it sprayed against his chin and splattered all over his gigantic chest and abs.

Jafar and Jake followed seconds later, they hollered loudly and erupted in the arse that had been so willingly offered to them, shoving their spurting dick deep between the cheeks as hot, magically charged cumshots flooded into Marcus. They collectively panted for breath as they collapsed onto the groaning sofa below them, Marcus draped himself over them, catching his breath too.

Jafar sighed contentedly within. “Worth the effort. Infinitely worth the effort.” The words caused a deep smile to flow across Jake’s face. Marcus embraced him in a close cuddle and they kissed passionately.

“Wow.” Marcus giggled. “Just wow!”. He raised himself off Jake’s immense length that had begun to soften within him. “That was absolutely, incredi....” He looked down. Whilst Marcus somehow felt energetic and charged with the essence of life, Jake had almost instantly fallen asleep. “…bull.” He finished.

He returned to his feet; the aches and pains of the day seemingly eased away from his body. He wandered over to the bed area, grabbed a sheet and covered Jake with it. For a while he sat, drinking some of the wine, eating some of the food and admiring Jake’s sleeping body and the attempts he’d made to transform his apartment into an erotic paradise - the room was covered with dozens of candles, some of which he carefully blew out as he moved around the space. He reached the turntable and stopped the record from spinning; lifting it from the platter he placed it back inside its sleeve.

In his slightly tipsy, slightly sexually-high state, he jabbed at the controls of the amplifier to shut it down, but instead his fumbling caused it to activate the radio tuner, which immediately began automatically scanning a station. Marcus watched the numbers rapidly count upwards on the LCD. “Good luck with that.” He thought to himself.

Then the glowing red screen suddenly stopped at 107.9fm. The speakers jumped into life, and Marcus froze.

“epeat. This is an emergency broadcast on behalf of the J.R.F. If you can hear this message, you are not alone."

[hunklover]

Hope that pushed a lot of buttons for people! And that it was as fun to read as it was to write.

[lazer0100]

7 hours ago, hunklover said:

Hope that pushed a lot of buttons for people! And that it was as fun to read as it was to write.

yes please continue your great writing!! Love the dual personality, the size diff and how Marcus just can't say no.

[hunklover]

The Revenge of Jafar: Chapter 12 - "How Strangers Become Friends"

The alarms rang out to everyone and no one at the same time as Marcus forced open the rental company’s keybox and dived his hand inside.

“Okay, tell me again... what’s your plan here?” Jake asked.

“You know what the plan is; you heard the same message I did!” Marcus cheerfully replied.

“Okay, so, because of some random message on the radio, we’re just going to...” Jake started, suddenly interrupted by Marcus who held a key in either hand. “Woo! Volvo or Mercedes?” He chirped.

Jake and Jafar felt completely out of control of the situation, but compelled to comply. “Volvo.”

Marcus stopped for a moment, cocking a curious eyebrow upward.

“For the boot space.” Jake offered.

Marcus pushed his way past Jake, out of the rental car office. He pressed a button on the key and the boot of the Volvo raised itself. From out of the shopping trolley he’d also ‘borrowed’ he began loading the supplies they’d gathered into the car.

“Marc.” Jake stated without response. “Marcus!”

“What?!” Marcus whipped round to face Jake and Hope.

“You hear a message on the radio, from an unknown society and decide that the best course of action is to pack up our lives and head towards whatever rag-tag group of misfits they might happen to be?” Jake sarcastically stated - Jafar impressed with his quick thinking. Neither of them liked that the control they’d worked so hard to gain was being wrenched away from them: Of course, they knew with a mere snap of their fingers they could reinstate their will universally... but previously doing so had only brought them intolerable mundanity.

Marcus walked towards Jake and rested his hands on the taller mans shoulders, gently massaging them. “There are other people, Jake. Other people like us; survivors.” He softly plead, then turned back to resume loading.

“What if it’s some sort of trap? You’re willing to just drive us into danger?” Jake asked, genuinely not knowing anything about where they were heading.

“No...” Marcus quipped, throwing the keys towards Jake. “You’re driving. Come on Hope!” He smiles opening the rear door and granting the happy husky a way inside.

As Jake moved the seat for his enlarged frame and adjusted the mirrors, the engine jumped into life. Marcus pointed to the infotainment screen. “Do these get an internet connection?” He asked.

“Huh?”

“3G? 4G?” Marcus continued.

“I.... I dunno? I assume so.”

And with that Marcus slammer his elbow into the screen smashing the LCD, rendering it useless. He grinned at a deeply shocked Jake. “Well, it’s not my car! Shall we go?”
Jake put the car into ‘Drive’ and the two sped down the concourse away from Piccadilly Station.

————————————————————

“What do you mean ‘vanished’?!” The broad, greying mid-50s man angrily grumbled in a strong Texan accent.

“From what we can tell, nobody has seen or heard anything of Jafar’s movements in the last 24 hours. It’s like he’s literally vanished off the face of the planet.” Replied the woman, precisely and clearly. She stood a foot shorter than the leader of their group in stature, but her fierce personality and directness was respected within their new society.

There was a moment of silence as the group thought about what this could possibly mean.

“Maybe he actually left the planet?” A young voice suggested. Eyes turned to look towards Tom. Though 18, he was seen as the ‘baby’ of the group and as such his comments were usually seen as being as infantile as he frequently acted.

“It’s possible.” Claire pondered out loud. “But it’s equally probable that something else has happened.”

“Well, thank you for your stunning insight.” Anderson bluntly followed. “In all honesty; if you’re telling me that we have no idea where or when Jafar disappeared, then we simply don’t have any reason to believe that we’re safe. We need to keep our guard up and be on the lookout for any potential threat.”

The room crept into a quiet consensus and deep underground RAF Alconbury, the small group of former strangers disbanded to return to the barracks above ground.

————————————————————

“He’s asleep” Jafar murmured to Jake inside their shared mind. Jake looked over to the passenger seat. “Yes.” He replied.

They let go of the steering wheel and pedals, choosing to control the vehicle with the smallest shred of their magical abilities. “We can’t stay cooped inside this meagre body much longer.” Jafar grumbled. “It’s intolerable.”

Jake looked down as he bounced their pecs and watched his biceps jump as they tensed their hands. Not too long ago, Jake would have dreamed to have such a body; today though, he knew Jafar was right. To contain the existence of a God into the body of a man was like trying to stuff the oceans of the earth into a ketchup bottle.

Jake tried to appease Jafar. “Think of it like an adventure and it’s almost exciting.” He smiled.

“Think of it as a group of humans running around freely, without us even being aware of it, and it’s worrying.” Jafar flatly replied.

“Worrying?” Jake chuckled. “We are invincible. You know that. Once we arrive, we’ll be able to work out what happened, and use it to our advantage.”

“You are aware that we could simply blink an eye now, and every creature on earth; from the polar bears in the north to the penguins of the south would be under our control.” Jafar remarked.

“Yes.... but isn’t this far more fun?” Jake retorted.

The car fell quiet.

“How much longer?” Marcus groggily moaned.

“Good morning sleepyhead!” Jake replied. “We’re pretty much here.”

Marcus rubbed his eyes as the car left the road and pulled into the wide driveway of the RAF base, almost like magic. As the car rolled to a stop, it began to be surrounded by curious faces; each of them peering into the vehicle. Marcus took a deep breath, opened his door and stepped out. Immediately, he was looking down the barrel of a rifle. Holding the gun was an impressively built, brick-house of a man. He was in his mid-50s, with salt and pepper hair, a thick beard and an emotionless face.

“Name?” Anderson stated directly.

“Marcus Hargreaves and Jake Bulmer!! We heard your message on the radio!!” Marcus nervously spoke, nearly shouting.

Anderson stared down at Marcus for a moment, his eyes unable to be read. He looked into the car, seeing the other young man frozen with his hands raised. He looked back to Marcus. Suddenly his face broke into a wide, beaming smile, showing off his immaculate white teeth. “Sorry to scare you boys!” He boomed, laughing.  “But we can’t be too careful these days. Welcome to the J.F.R!” He continued lowering the gun. A crowd formed around the car, and as Jake stepped out, he was hugged warmly by a woman in her late sixties - her seemingly being so happy to have new members of the group. Introductions extended for a while and it became clear that Anderson and Claire were the self-appointed leaders of the pack. Anderson offering to show the couple around and help them settle in, Marcus eagerly agreed - happy to be surrounded by new names and faces.

“I’ll hold back…” Jake shouted. “..Hope’ll need a walk!”

“Okay, Fine!” Marcus happily yelled back. “Catch you later!” It was the most joyful he’d felt in months, and as he looked up to the beefy older man who had started the grand tour, the first time he’d felt safe since this whole mess had started.

Jake watched him disappear around a corner and turned to the back door of the car, opening it and allowing Hope to hop out. She barked at Jake momentarily, but, as he made eye contact with her again, she silenced and began lapping at his hand and rubbing against him with pure love pouring out from her.

“Oh my goodness!” A high pitched young voice cried out from behind Jake. He turned to face where it had come from, but as he did it had already moved. Tom was now crouched in front of Hope, running his hands through her fur and stroking her gently. “He’s beautiful! Look at his markings, so perfect. So, so perfect. What a handsome boy! Are you a handsome boy?!” the young man continued.

“Girl.” Jake said flatly. “Her name is Hope.” He said, and he crouched to Tom’s level, resting a hand on Hope’s head. “My name is Jake, and yours is…?”

Tom locked eyes on Jake and seemingly froze. His hands still rubbing Hope’s fur, almost automatically. The boy seemed dumbstruck - it was an expression Jafar and Jake were used to creating in men. Tom’s hands moved upwards to tickle Hope’s face and brushed against Jake’s own. In that instant, Jafar felt it. It was subtle. It was buried. But it was there. Desire.

“Thomas.” The young man quietly uttered. “But everyone calls me Tom.”

Jake took a second to drink in Tom. About 5”8’, with naturally bright blonde hair and milky skin, his body was slim with a small amount of definition. Shy and sexually inexperienced. He was a drink of a twink… and Jake and Jafar were going to slurp down every drop.

“Well, Tom. Fancy showing me a place to take Hope for a walk?” Jake politely requested.

The blonde boy looked to him, a beaming smile plastered on his face. “I’d love to.”

————————————————————

Marcus keenly listened to all Anderson and Claire could tell him about how they’d managed to establish their little group. Anderson told his story of being in the middle of a biking holiday through Europe when the trouble had started - by now he hoped he’d be enjoying his early retirement from ‘the force’. Clearly that hadn’t planned out. Claire had been stationed at the RAF base as a medic - she was the only one left of the original inhabitants, the other’s had seemingly been infected by Jafar’s hypnotic powers. Marcus was desperate to know why the members of this society hadn’t been.

“Oh that’s easy, Kiddo!” Anderson began. “Personally, I’m a luddite - no cell phone, no iPad… I always used to tell people ‘you don’t need that crap’. Turns out I was right!”

“So, you all just… didn’t look at the screens?” Marcus confusedly asked.

“Some of us seemed to miss the moment.” Claire replied. “When the base seemingly erupted into a bad parody of Shaun of the Dead, I was more focussed on trying to help anyone I could. By the time they’d all marched out of the base and to…. wherever the hell they went to… I’d put a bullet in my Samsung and cut the phone lines to the base.” She grinned.

“And then, there are some of us who really had no choice.” Said a man in his mid-30s, the light bouncing off his balding head. He lowered his sunglasses revealing two eyes that were clouded over completely. His blindness only becoming apparent to Marcus in that moment.

Marcus took a second to do some mental calculations. “So that means… there’s more of us? There must be! There could be dozens? Hundreds?!” He excitedly barked.

“Thousands, we reckon.” Anderson replied, sitting down with his arms folded in front of him, wrestling his beefy chest for space. “Think about it; areas where the signal doesn’t get through, people who don’t have smart technology, researchers in Antartica, the Amish, tribes deep in Africa… there’s got to be thousands of us out there.”

“Possibly.” Claire replied, trying to temper the enthusiasm in the room. “Even so… it doesn’t do us much good.”

Marcus was confused. “I’m sorry?”

“We’re scattered throughout the globe, we make occasional radio contact with other groups, but we can’t exactly do anything.” Claire attempted to clarify.

Marcus’ brow scrunched up further. “I thought… I thought the Jafar Resistant Front was about finding a way to fight back? To try to find a way to get our lives to how they were.”

“Kid. This isn’t about aiming for victory.” Anderson warmly stated, placing one of his chunky hands on Marcus’ shoulder. “This is about survival.”

————————————————————

“It must be tough though, being the youngest member of the group?” Jake asked as he looked into Tom’s face.

“I guess so.” Tom considered the question. “I just don’t like being treated like a kid.”

Jake smiled at Tom, it was hard to see him as anything other than ‘a kid’. He was just so boyish and youthful. As the pair had taken to sitting on the ground about 2 miles from the base, Tom had shared the story of his life before coming to Alconbury. He’d just been preparing to finish his A Levels and was planning to head to university in the Autumn. When Jafar’s attack on the world had started, he explained how one-by-one he’d watched his friends and family become enslaved to their personal devices. Jake asked why Tom thought he’d avoided it, to which Tom had shown him his iPhone, the screen and LCD cracked beyond repair - the result of a drunken night a few days prior to Jafar’s rise to power.

“You wish they’d look at you as a man, right?” Jake questioned.

“Something like that.” Tom mumbled, rubbing Hope’s belly as he did.

Jake and Jafar knew what Tom really wanted. Since their hands had briefly touched, they had seen it clearly. It was new to them and they knew that they were no longer a djinn… still it seemed only fair to grant the young lad’s wish.

“I don’t think you just want to be seen as a man though, right?” Jake said, fixing his gaze on Tom.

“You don’t?” Tom confusedly replied.

“No. I think you want to be seen as a beast, don’t you?” Jake started. “You want to be seen as a hulking great brute of a creature, don’t you?”

Tom stared deeply at Jake. A look of shock and fear on his face, his mouth hung open wordlessly. Above them, for the first time in months, the sky began to darken. The moon full and round shining brightly onto them.

“Don’t you?” Jake forcefully asked smiling widely.

“Yes.” Tom gasped, the truth slipping through his teeth.

“Well then, let’s see what we can do about that.” Jake grinned sinisterly.

“What do you… ARGH!” Tom cried out suddenly. An intense and sharp pain wracking through his brain; his head feeling like it was about to be literally split in half. He moaned and groaned as the pain subsided, but it left him feeling as if hungover - uncomfortably warm, nauseous and unsteady. He slumped against Jake who was sat beside him - his insides felt hot and unsettled. “What’s happening to me?”

“I know your desires. I know what you want. And so, I’m gifting it to you.” Jake smiled, kissing the young man gently as his eyes began to glow.

Tom felt itchy and tingly from head to toe. Within seconds, his t-shirt and jeans became soaked with sweat - his blonde hair plastered to his forehead. The world appeared to be spinning at a tremendous pace, and so he decided to lay back on the grass beneath him, panting heavily.

As the moonlight seemed to glow with an increased intensity, Tom continued to sweat profusely. His body seemingly unable to be controlled by thought or willpower. Under the cotton t-shirt, his nipples chafed against the fabric - they were tingling and unpleasantly tender and sensitive. This was rapidly joined by a spasming across his pectoral muscles as his nipples appeared to balloon in size to become rounded and fat, protruding against the fabric. Tom could feel the muscles quivering and shaking without his control, as if his ribs were trying to burst out of the skin above them.
 
Almost imperceptibly, fine strands of white hair began to puncture through the skin of Tom’s arms, legs and chest. “Help me.” He panted. “I’m begging you, help me.” He moaned. Jake simply sat and watched. Tom tried again to vocalise his fear and pain, but his body would not respond. He writhed and wriggled around, eventually landing on all fours. His eyes caught sight of his fingers, which had begun to grow strong, ebony black nails. Across his body, he was suddenly met with the desire to rip every inch of skin off as it itched unbearably. Then thick white strands of hair began to push through every follicle, covering every inch of him.

In his jeans, a tightness he’d never felt was pushing against the zipper. His dick had become painfully erect and was trying to force its way through the metallic prison. With a loud “whrizzip” the zip gave way and his cock-head pushed its way out into the night air. He took a moment to look at it, the veins criss-crossing on it pulsing and throbbing as it leaked cum as if it were a dripping tap. Tom’s mind tried to rationalise the situation, but he was unable to as his chest began to stretch and spread outwards increasing in all directions and widening. From head to toe, his body was twitching, pulsating, moving, growing into a whole new creature. His penis throbbed and began to spurt white globs of his formerly human spunk onto the floor; his nut sack tightening against his crotch as it finished unleashing his weak seed and began to refill with a new breed.

He buried his head into his clawed hands and cried softly “make it stop, make it stop” his voice cracking and deepening as he did. In his hands, he could feel pressure building as his mouth began to push forward into a muzzle. He somehow found the strength to return to his feet, but as he did, an explosion of size saw him grow upwards and outwards once more. He looked down to his legs, stretching and packing on muscle, the furry flesh bursting through the denim as his feet and toes cracked and stretched - bulking up in size, shredding his Converse shoes.

Tom once again cried out a strangled yelp as his spine pulled outwards from the bottom of his back, forcing its way through the skin. Seconds later, it was wrapped in flesh and sleek white fur. His hands enlarged dramatically, the nails becoming vicious weapons of death and destruction. A mixture of agonised screams and moans flowed into the air as he struggled to handle the pain in his fingers and toe-nails; lengthening, thickening and sharpening as they pushed through his skin out as newly formed claws.
Beneath the T-shirt which was now practically painted onto Tom’s body, muscles bulged and rippled - stretching and growing to accommodate his new skeletal structure that was increasing by the second. He would tower over every man he met, striking fear into their hearts. Second by second, Jafar’s magic was rewriting Tom’s DNA structure - turning something legendary into a very real creature. The shirt gave way as powerful cords of muscle wrapped over his torso.

Simultaneously, Tom’s skull cracked and groaned from within. With a violent crack, his nose pulled further away from his eyes, pulling his jawline with it. The skin stretch tight over the expanded bone to reveal his newly formed snout, his long tongue stretching and flicking against his growing teeth; canines and incisors stretching wildly. At the same time his eyes had began to glow in an unearthly yellow as his ears flowed up to the top of his head, pointing to the sky.

Tom’s balls churned endlessly, filling with a full load of newly-corrupted werewolf spunk. His dick hardened and slowly took on a deep red hue as it popped from a newly formed sheath between his legs - it was truly gigantic and as it finished morphing into a lupine shape, Tom threw his head to the sky and howled a deep satisfied cry. He blasted his load onto the ground below him, the orgasm stronger than any sensation he’d previously felt.

His breathing returned to normal, all pain had subsided and in its place remained a feeling of unspeakable power. Tom felt strong, fully charged and fearsome. And he loved it.
 
Jake wrapped a hand around the back of Tom’s head and nuzzled his fur between his fingers. “What a handsome boy. Are you a handsome boy?” He playfully teased, and pulled the newly formed wolf man towards him for a kiss… breathing Jafar’s will into him. Planting the seeds of absolute loyalty within Tom.

When it finished, Tom took a second to behold his new body, smiling fiercely. “This is incredible.” He thundered contentedly. And then he turned to face Jake, the smile wiped away.

“Something wrong?” Jake and Jafar smirked.

Tom flung himself to his hands and knees at Jake’s feet, wrapping himself around Jake’s body; whining as if in need.

“Oh I see. Every pup needs his Alpha, right?” They smiled.

Tom looked up to him and smiled sweetly, whining again.

“So, I guess that means it’s our turn.” They finished as they raised their black clawed hand to the sky, blood red fur beginning to poke out of every follicle.

 

Thank you so much for reading so far. If you've enjoyed this story, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know anything you'd like to see in future chapters. I can't guarantee it'll make it in, but I do appreciate feedback (positive and negative) as I'm just trying to get better at writing.

[cregssatx]

This story is remarkable.  I have no suggestions; I'm happy to enjoy it as it evolves!

[hardmuscl4life]

Really imaginative.  Well done once again.  Yours is one of the stories I look for.