Bachelor Beach Blow-out

One of my friends is getting married soon, so we took it upon ourselves to plan a bachelor party for him. We wanted to celebrate the fact that he was finally getting hitched — to be honest, we were really starting to doubt he ever would — as well as have one last blow-out together as bachelors.

We found this resort. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but it billed itself as “the Last Paradise of Single Men,” and we thought that there would be no better place to go for his bachelor’s party. The airfare was surprisingly cheap, and the per-night rate of the hotel was pretty much a steal. We were all more than happy to go on a party that wouldn’t break our banks.

When we got to the resort, we realized that they hadn’t lied on their webpage. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Everyone, from the guests that were lounging around in the lobby, to the staff that were assisting new visitors, was male. And every single one looked like a veritable god, wearing tight t-shirts and speedos that showed off their enviable endowments.

Maybe that should have been a warning. A red flag that something wasn’t right here. But we were high on the idea of a great vacation and we checked in without a worry on our minds. Now, I’m not so sure. My friends, they’ve changed, and I’m afraid that I’m next.

Story Request by @suittflove

The world was changed. For the better, many hoped. How, no one was entirely sure. But one day, it was as if the politicians in power suddenly woke up to the fact that they had been causing untold damage to the very foundations of civilized society, in addition to the world around them.

When nearly every government announced its plans to hold elections as soon as possible, the conspiracy nutters all came out of the woodwork. There was, briefly, chaos, as a thousand voices started shouting about a New World Order, one that threatened to brainwash people into accepting a new status quo.

No one listened. It was a ridiculous claim on the face of it, to begin with. And the only people who disliked the changes, the ones on the fringes of politics, the extremes of both sides, didn’t really want to be associated with far-fetched conspiracies.

Misinformation dwindled to practically zero. Quackery disappeared from the internet. Essential oils, body cleanses, crystals, Himalayan rock salt, homeopathy… It all evaporated. Anti-vax forums were like ghost towns in the aftermath. It was as if the world awoke from a shared delusion, and hardly anyone was complaining.

In many countries around the world, genuinely productive democratic elections were held. For many, it was their first time. A new breed of politicians came into power. They were respectful, even in disagreement. They were conscientious of others. And they were possessed of a genuine desire to serve the wants and needs of their constituents.

In an unprecedented effort, these politicians eradicated corruption nearly overnight. Occasionally old fossils would slip through, still spouting their regressive ideals. But more often than not they would get shamed out of office for their archaic beliefs. For the first time since its conception, the separation of church and state was actually followed.

Despite all the progress, the world had yet to recover from the wounds that it had already suffered at the careless and, at times, voluntarily malicious hands of the previous generation. Clean-up would take some time, but for once there was hope for a bright future.

It was in the light of all the damage that had already occured that Bachelor Beach rose to prominence. It was a stretch of pristine sand along the windward side of a small, unnamed island in the middle of the Mediterranean. In the old times, a magnanimous billionaire had purchased the property to preserve it as best he could from the destructive greed of the men that had once run the world. The man had since passed. But not before seeing his dream of a better world come to reality.

In his absence, the man willed the beach to a small company, Monarch Holdings. Monarch had opened the beach to the public a year or two after taking over administration of the property and despite an international firestorm over its decision to make Bachelor Beach a males-only resort, it experienced an unprecedented level of success.

Much to the ire of some would-be investors, though, Monarch remained a steadfastly private company. It was according to the wishes of the man that had bought the island in the first place, anyway. And as far as anyone knew, the profits from the beach mostly went straight to charitable works.

Not that the average joe who went to Bachelor Beach particularly cared about the workings of its administration. Most went there for the crystal-clear water, the soft white sand, and the beautiful balmy tropical breeze. There were the men, too. Attractive, gorgeous men of every color, size, and walk of life that had come to enjoy the "Last Paradise of Single Men," as Bachelor Beach billed itself.

As such, it was no surprise that Tim got unanimous support for his plan to go to Bachelor Beach for his friend Mike’s stag do. They had all thought that Mike would never get hitched, and the special occasion warranted something big.

That being said, the price of the tickets had been far less than Tim and his friends anticipated. They were all too eager to put down the money for the chance to see what the fuss was all about.

Merely reading about the amenities available on the island was enough to send the boys into an excited frenzy. The fact that a representative had called Tim to inform him that he did not need to worry about booking flights only made the excitement worse.

The energy in the cabin of the private jet that the lifelong friends took to Bachelor Beach was electric. There were a few other men there, along for trips of their own. Everyone was excited, and more than once pictures of the place were passed around.

There was a little bitching from the straight men about there being no women on the beach, and a few knowing smirks from the guys that batted for the other team.

The sex didn’t really matter that much to Tim. As it turns out, a better world does not necessarily mean a better work environment. Sure, everyone was a lot more respectful, but that didn’t change the fact that his position was still a relatively high-stress one.

The scenery of Bachelor Beach alone made the trip worthwhile to Tim. Even if it did mean a few days of celibacy, it wasn’t like he had never experimented with guys. Not to mention, there was a lot a guy could do with one hand.


On touchdown at Bachelor Beach, one could hear a pin drop in the quiet that pervaded the cabin as the men waited for the captain to give them the go-ahead to disembark. And there was more than a little bit of a scuffle as the men rushed to get off the plane once the door was opened.

Even from the runway, Tim could smell the salt on the breeze and feel the gentle warmth of the sun on his skin. It was pleasant. Just what he needed.

Waiting at the base of the stairs was a man who appeared to be the group’s guide. He was, to say the least, drop-dead gorgeous. He was wearing a shirt that might as well have not been there for how tightly it adhered to the contours of his muscular torso. As for pants, all the man wore was a pair of speedos that did very little to contain the sizable package between his legs.

"Hello, gentlemen," said the guide. "My name is Marco and I will be your guide for today. It’s a little way to the beach yet so let’s get you all loaded on the bus and let’s get on our way down to Bachelor Beach!"

Marco was greeted with a round of applause and more than a few bro-hugs. Tim couldn’t help but grin as he helped Mike and his other friends load their bags into the baggage compartment of the bus.

This was going to be a fucking blast.


Marco certainly set a level of expectation that the staff at the Aurelius completely blew out of the water. Even Corbin, the self-professed "straight-bro" of the group had to whistle at the sight of the staff.

Every single one was dressed in a fashion similar to Marco, in tight clothes that accentuated every little nook and cranny of their muscles, in tiny speedos that left very little to the imagination, and made their muscled asses pop.

Tim felt more than a little bit tighter down the front of his pants at the sight of all these men. He was straight, at least for the most part, but even he couldn’t deny the sheer sex appeal that these men exuded by simply existing.

Tim could scarcely turn his eyes away as he and his friends were led up to their suite. Maybe the vacation wouldn’t have to be as celibate as he was thinking. Maybe it was time to discover just how straight he really was. After all, no one knew him here, and no one would bat an eye to him fooling around.

For the moment, though, Tim had to set aside thoughts of pursuing his own pleasure. Everyone had settled into their rooms and everyone was hankering to go down to the beach.

The beach was filled with handsome men, too. Far too many than made statistical sense. Not that Tim was complaining. And from the looks of it, Mike was enjoying the sights, too.


Tim fell asleep at some point. When he woke up, he half-expected to be burnt to a crisp, but apparently someone had erected a beach umbrella over him while he slumbered.

When he cracked open his eyes, Tim noticed that his friends had all taken to wearing the same thing as most of the staff and the guests. Tight t-shirts and speedos. And he wasn’t sure if it was the grogginess or something, but he could have sworn that many of his friends looked more cut than he remembered.

Tim’s suspicions only deepened as the sun set over the horizon and the beach became awash with the reds, yellows, and oranges. His friends weren’t exactly acting strange, but they were acting a lot more unrestrained than he was used to.

Maybe it was wrong of him to be worrying on vacation, but something was up, and he didn’t know. That made him nervous. And nervous Tim was never a person that could have much fun.

Dinner only made Tim more paranoid. His friends were being too friendly. Both with guests, staff, and with one another. Corbin had been flirting with their waiter. It got to be too much halfway through the main course and Tim had to excuse himself, if only to gather his thoughts and try to find a rational explanation for everything.

But no matter what he tried, Tim couldn’t get any of it to make sense. It was clear that his friends had changed. But that didn’t explain why he hadn’t changed. Until he realized that he was still wearing the clothes he’d gone to the beach with.

It was the speedos. No doubt about it. Either on their own or in tandem with the shirts. Because now that he thought about it, Mike definitely hadn’t had a six pack before they came to Bachelor Beach, and Luke certainly hadn’t had a cock that looked bigger soft than Tim’s was, hard.

Something was up. Tim wasn’t sure if it was sinister, but he didn’t want to stick around to find out and get changed like his friends. But when he made his way back to his suite, he was confronted with the rest of his friends, Mike, and Marco.

Marco had a small smile on his face. "It seems like Tim has figured out our little game, boys," said Marco, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a lopsided smirk. "We can’t have that, so let’s make him a player."

Tim blinked for a moment, then turned to flee. But his friends, in addition to their new bodies, had somehow gained superhuman speed. Or, at the very least, they had become much faster than he was.

Tim was pinned against the wall by Corbin as Luke slammed the door closed. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Mike made out passionately with Marco, and despite the fear thrumming at the corners of his mind, Tim felt his cock stir in his pants.

"Ready to play, Timmy-boy?" said Marco, breaking away from Mike to saunter over to Tim. He grabbed fistfuls of Tim’s shirt and tore it effortlessly from Tim’s body. Tim’s pants and underwear followed. "Is it really so bad?" said Marco. "It looks like your little cock over there would like to participate."

Tim was silent. Not because he was angry, but because he was conflicted. He didn’t really know how to answer, not that he suspected he would have a choice, anyway. "Boys," said Marco. "Help me get him into proper attire."

Before Tim knew it, a speedo was being slid up his lesg. It was warm against his skin. It tingled. Made his cock twitch. When it was pulled up against his crotch, it cradled his balls and made him moan, engulfing them in a sensual heat that made his whole body shiver.

Marco reached around him and stuffed his cock into the pouch of the speedo. The fabric felt like it was massaging his turgid length. It felt good. So good. It took mere moments for Tim to forget why he had been so wound-up in the first place.

Suspicions, thoughts, worries, it all dissolved into a pleasant fuzz as the speedo stroked the length of Tim’s cock.

"Good, that’s good," said Marco. "Well, have a good evening, boys. We’ll let you ripen up in those speedos. Then you’ll really get to enjoy Bachelor Beach like you were meant to."

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