Personalized Sleeve pt. 3

The sleeve continues to sink its roots deeper into the lives of Edward and Harry but little do they know that its effects extend far beyond just the two of them. The sleeve’s transformative magics ripple out, changing all the men that come in contact with it in ways they never could have imagined.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This story was written as a paid commission. If you are interested in commissioning your own story from me, please see the [Commissions] page for more information!

Sullivan Powell, “Little Sully” to his friends, was the runt of his pack of otherwise-average straight-C’s university blokes. He was short, lanky, fairly unremarkable in the looks department, and only marginally smarter than the rest of his gaggle of STEM nerds.

All things considered, Sully might not have had many prospects in life but for the quality that set him apart from the rest of his friends. He had the sole distinction of being decently sociable.

Maybe it was his boyish looks. Perhaps it was his earnest nature. It didn’t ultimately matter. The important bit was that he had connections he could use to get a cushy job out of uni. That, and he was the only one of the boys with a steady girlfriend.

All in all, Sully had a relatively bright future ahead of him. All he needed to do was seize it, and a decently comfortable, domestic middle-class life was within his reach.

Or it would have been, had things turned out differently that one fateful afternoon that now felt like a lifetime ago when really it had only been two days. It should have been a simple errand. The list of tasks had been short: go to the grocer’s; grab some milk, eggs, and bread to restock the pantry; and go home—nice and easy.

While Sully had certainly left the supermarket with nearly a pint of milk, it hadn’t exactly been the kind that went in a pantry. He’d also forgotten to grab eggs and bread on the way out. But damn if it hadn’t been the best milk he’d ever had in his life—to say nothing of how fucking good it had felt getting it inside his body.

Sully hopped off of Tay’s lap with a grunt and a wet squelch. His stomach was bloated, his two days deflowered hole blown open, and he’d never felt more satisfied in his life.

He flinched as a sharp smack landed on his ass cheek, the stinging blow sending a frisson of pleasure through his body.

“You bring your own today, or you need a complimentary one?” said Tay, the supermarket associate that was responsible for Sully’s current predicament. The butt plugs in the metal bucket next to him rattled around as he casually swirled his hand around the vessel.

“I-I did,” said Sully. He nearly fumbled it out of his hands, too, after fishing it out of his sweater pocket. It was a dainty little thing, a metal butt plug with a pink faux diamond set into the base. He’d pilfered it out of his girlfriend’s dresser.

“Good little bucket,” said Tay. “Hand it over.”

Sully did as he was told, bending over at the hip as he reached behind him with the plug. It went in easily and when he was done, Tay gave him another swat on the cheek and said, “Alright, bucket. Send in the next one,” before sending him on his way.

Sully walked bow-legged out of the room and back past the line of young men that were waiting by the door. They were all like him, hooked on Tay’s incredible cock, and envious, down to a man, that he’d already had his turn.

The line stretched all the way from the restricted employees-only area where Tay was filling “orders,” past the actual dairy aisle, and onto the sidewalk out front. Sully waved at the cashier as he waddled past. He’d be back every day the rest of the week, and probably every day for quite some time after that. He just couldn’t get enough of Tay.

Edward was in the hotel lobby. He had all his luggage with him and he was more than ready to fly home. Mostly so he’d have the privacy to whip out the flesh light and fuck it. Well, there was Harry too, off course, but he was primarily horny and needing to get off.

Even he knew better than to approach the front desk at the moment, though. There was a bride, dressed in easily one of the most ostentatious wedding gowns Edward had ever seen, having a meltdown in front of the only receptionist currently on duty.

“Then cancel the fucking limo!” the woman howled. “Cancel the flowers! Cancel the catering! Cancel the fucking band! I don’t care! I’m fucking leaving!”

The story, as Edward—and any adult with a pair of working ears in half a kilometre—had come to understand was that the bride had caught her to-be husband in something of a compromising position: fucking a bellboy in the stairwell. That, and—Edward had admittedly snickered when she recounted this part—that the guy had flat out refused to stop, saying that he’d “always been a tits man, but fuck I’m gonna be a bussy man from now on.”

Edward had been hearing some murmurings that there was some sort of mysterious entity wandering the halls of the hotel in the past couple of days. The naked ghost of a bellboy that lured men out of their rooms, if the rumors were to be believed.

He’d naturally dismissed the absurd talk out of hand, but that was before encountering the distraught bride. Clearly there was some merit to the stories, though he doubted it was a ghost. In all likelihood, it was just a particularly slutty bellboy and a bunch of weak-willed men trying to save face.

Edward had to wonder, though, if it might have been the same bellboy as the one he’d fucked a few days ago. He thought it would be pretty funny if it were.

Nevertheless, he was ready to step up to the front desk once the woman had stomped angrily out of the lobby. “Yikes,” he said sympathetically to the cute twenty-something behind the counter.

The guy—a Martin—shrugged and said, “that’s not even the wildest thing we’ve had happen here, Sir. I hope you enjoyed your stay with us?”

Edward nodded and smiled. “Oh, yes. I had a fantastic time, thank you.” He handed over his room key and leaned over the counter, looking Martin up and down.

“Say, you won’t happen to be ending your shift any time soon, would you?” The front of his pants got somewhat tighter as his gaze met Martin’s.

Martin gulped.

“Actually…” Edward smirked. “Why don’t you find someone to mind the front desk and take a break right now?”

Coffee was one of those things that Harry considered essential to his sanity. He couldn’t imagine starting his day without a cup—much less getting any work done. But over the past few weeks, another pair of C-words had, more and more, come to overtake coffee as his foremost craving.

It was early on in the day—couldn’t have been later than 10 am—and Harry was at a small nearby coffeehouse. It was a favorite of his and Edward’s. Some of it was the good coffee and the cozy atmosphere for sure, but the owner and sole proprietor was a major part of it.

“Good morning!” said the man in question when the bell above the door rang to signal the arrival of a new patron.

Harry and Edward liked to call the guy—Maxxie—the “Coffee Twink.” To say they lusted after the well-kempt young man was an understatement considering how often they’d fantasized about taking turns railing him in a threesome.

“Morning, Maxxie. How are ya?” said the new patron.

Maxxie chuckled. “Doing great, Mick. What can I do you for?”

Harry only half-paid attention to the conversation as he happily drank his coffee order from the metal bowl marked “Ol’ Guzzler” beside Maxxie.

“Ah, the usual. Hey, didn’t there used to be a dog collar on the wall over there?” said Mick.

Harry shifted over when the side of Maxxie’s foot bumped into him. It jostled the tag hanging from his neck, making it plink against the side of his bowl.

“What? That old thing?” Maxxie laughed.

“Yeah, that one that said Ol’ Guzzler. I liked it,” said Mick.

“I’ve put it to good use, finally,” said Maxxie as he rang up Mick’s order. “Have a seat, man. I’ll bring your order out to you when it’s done.”

Harry fought to hold back a moan—and lost soon thereafter. He felt the toe end of Maxxie’s immaculate leather shoes between his legs. It fondled his balls to start with but he couldn’t help but tense because he knew what was coming next.

The gentle caress quickly turned into a sharp pain as Maxxie’s foot pressed hard against his balls. The low moan thinned to a high-pitched whimper as the edge of Maxxie’s sole scraped along the underside of Harry’s throbbing, leaking cock.

Harry’s exposed asshole twitched and trembled as Maxxie toyed with his dangling bits. Maxxie kicked his foot just the tiniest bit—not enough to cause any real pain but enough that Harry was acutely aware of the sensation—before pulling away to make Mick’s order.

“Thin crowd today, innit?” said Mick when Maxxie went to his table with his order.

“You came at a good time. The worker bee crowd’s gone on to the hive,” said Maxxie with a light laugh. “Here you go, Mick. I don’t mind it so much. Gives me space to really take care of my customers.”

Mick chuckled. “Is that right? Suppose I can say cheers to that,” he said.

“Cheers,” said Maxxie as he returned to his place behind the counter. “Stay as long as you like, Mick. It’s just you and the stray that’s been wandering in here these past couple weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” said Mick. “You know, you shouldn’t encourage them.”

Maxxie chuckled. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for the little guys. And they’re pretty useful if you teach them some tricks.”

A plaintive whine escaped Harry when his bowl of coffee was snatched up from the floor in front of him.

“Gluttonous little bitch,” said Maxxie with a little smirk as he tugged the flap of his apron aside to reveal his fat, veiny cock and heavy balls. “Well, don’t you worry. Your owner’s got a sack full of your favorite salty cream and that’s not gonna run out any time soon.”

After a few strokes, Maxxie shot a sizable load into the dog bowl. He squeezed out the last dregs onto his thumb, which he promptly stuck into his mouth and sucked down before setting the bowl back on the floor in front of Harry. “There you go, Guzzler. Drink up.”

Really, the bowl was more full of cum than coffee by now, but Harry wasn’t complaining. He dove back in, wiggling his naked arse happily as he slurped up the fresh warm load that Maxxie had made for him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” said Maxxie as he watched Harry lap up his “coffee.”

Harry froze up for a moment when he felt something hard on the back of his head but quickly relaxed when he realized it was just Maxxie stepping on him. “Go on, greedy little thing. Why don’t you shove your face in it like I know you want to?”

Edward idly reminisced about the handsome Filipino flight attendant he’d fucked in the airplane toilet the better part of an hour ago. That tight ass was easily in the top five of asses he’d ever fucked.

He tilted his head back and groaned, remembering the way the guy’s velvety heat had gripped his shaft after sliding in. Fuck. He pumped the sleeve up and down his erection, previous loads leaking out past his rock-hard rod and making something of a mess of his wiry bush.

The flight attendants had upgraded him to first class almost as soon as he’d boarded and as luck would have it, he had a pretty direct line of sight from where he was seating to the toilet where he’d left his earlier conquest.

There were a bunch of guys lining up to use that particular cubicle. The scent of cock desperation must have drawn them. The airplane had been filled with the sound of that toilet’s door rattling in its frame for the last hour and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening.

Come to think of it, Edward didn’t even remember the guy’s name. Well, he supposed it didn’t much matter. “Hole” was a more appropriate name for the cock-gargling slut anyway.

Edward growled under his breath, filling the entire first-class cabin with the obscene squelching of his cock pounding into his sleeve. He gave it a round of long, violently forceful thrusts before slamming it down onto his cock and coming so powerfully that the excess jizz squirted past the well-fucked hole.

Just in time too, it seemed. The “fasten seatbelts” sign came on and the captain announced that they would be landing in the next half hour or so.

It was a miracle the mirror hadn’t cracked from how hard Harry had been grasping the frame. There were practically dents where his fingers had clamped onto the wood while his asshole was getting reamed by that miraculous invisible cock that had caused him so much pleasure these past few weeks.

There was a tiny splatter at about waist height on the mirror where his cum had hit the mirror. It was thin and watery, but that wasn’t much of a surprise at this point. His loads had been gradually decreasing in volume and thickness over the past couple of weeks.

Harry didn’t think he’d ever looked better, though. He stepped back from the mirror. He was practically glowing.

He’d slimmed down a bit and gained a bit of muscle definition. His abs looked like proper abs this time around. And he was pretty sure his cock and balls were bigger and more shapely, too—not that he’d gotten much use out of them recently.

Harry’s skin was also smoother and healthier than ever before. The marks and blemishes that he used to be so conscious about were mysteriously gone. His complexion was healthy and almost uncannily even across his body—especially his cock and balls which were now the same color as the rest of him.

And while he’d never been particularly hirsute, there wasn’t a trace of body hair anywhere on him. He was perfectly smooth all over. It was as if he’d gotten professionally waxed without his knowledge.

The only thing he wasn’t sure how to feel about was the faint glossy sheen that was all over him. Combined with his fairer, more even complexion, it made him look like he was made of plastic. Or perhaps, even silicone.

Harry didn’t think Edward would mind, though. He thought it was kind of sexy to look like a living sex toy.

Fuck. His spent cock was getting hard again. He couldn’t wait for Edward to get home.

“What’s this?” said Edward, looking at the document in his hand. He’d only gone to the office to drop some things off before going back home to Harry so he hadn’t at all expected to be called into his boss’ office, much less getting handed a new contract.

“My job,” said Francis. He wasn’t sitting behind his desk but rather on top of it, legs hanging off the edge while facing Edward.

“I mean… Why are you giving me this?” said Edward.

Francis unbuttoned his suit jacket and reached up to loosen his tie. His cheeks flushed as he reached up and combed his hair back with his hands. “I’m done. It’s too much. I don’t want to think anymore.”

Edward wasn’t exactly complaining. It was a considerable raise. But it did sound a bit too good to be true. “Are you drunk, Francis?” he said.

“Nope. No, Sir. Just tired and over it. So, you take over,” said Francis, leaning forward to clap a hand on Edward’s shoulders.

Edward glanced at the contract in his hands and then turned his gaze back to Francis. “Alright,” he said.

Francis shivered. “Thank God. I thought you were going to say no,” he said as he reached up to unbutton his collar and the first couple of buttons of his shirt.

“Yeah, I’m not going to turn down a raise, Francis,” said Edward as he stood from his chair. He turned Francis around and bent him over the desk. “Why don’t we seal the deal the old-fashioned way?” he added as he yanked Francis’ pants down.

“Y-yes!” Francis groaned as he arched his back and spread his legs. “Fuck me! Please!”

There was some shuffling at the front door as Edward crammed himself through the entryway with all his luggage. A thump followed as he dropped the heavy carry-on slung across his shoulders and said, “Home sweet ho—ly fuck!

Edward broke into a grin. “Damn, babe. You sure know how to welcome a man home,” he said.

Harry was on all fours right there at the entrance of their flat. He was naked as the day he was born with his back arched, knees spread, and ass pushed out invitingly.

Maybe it was the lighting in the entryway, but there was something not quite right about Harry’s naked body. It was as hot as ever, but Edward didn’t remember his lover being so smooth or well-shaped.

Harry looked almost perfect, in a way. It was as if his body had been sculpted into the shape of an ideal male form.

There was also a sheen to Harry’s skin. Edward thought it was oil, but it didn’t look like oil. Instead, it looked like Harry’s body was made of silicone, just like the sleeve. Not that Edward particularly minded. It was hot all the same. He would just have to ask if Harry had had something done to himself while he was away.

Harry craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Edward with a sultry half-smile and said, “I missed you, babe,” in a smoldering tone much smokier and seductive than he’d thought he could manage.

“Have you really?” said Edward with a smirk. He had already slipped his cardigan off and pulled his shirt out of his pants, working to loosen the buttons. He knelt behind Harry as he slid his arms out of his shirt sleeves and rubbed a thumb over the gaping, twitching rim of Harry’s entrance. “Looks to me like you’ve had a lot of company while I was away.”

Harry chuckled. “I had to satisfy my needs somehow, babe,” he said. He rolled his hips, bucking his ass against Edward’s touch. “But nothing’s as good as the original.”

Edward licked his lips and fished his cock out of his pants. He tapped the engorged head against Harry’s hole, sucking in a sharp breath as it looked like Harry’s ass was trying to swallow him. “If that isn’t the truth,” he said, using his free hand to grab Harry by the hips and pull him closer.

He sank his dick into Harry. It slid inside with ease, the velvety heat of Harry’s hole gripping tightly around his length despite how soft and yielding his entrance had been.

“Fuck,” Edward grunted. “This definitely feels like coming home,” he said. Something felt a little bit off but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Harry moaned as Edward filled him. His back arched, his toes curling against the hardwood flooring. “Fuck. You feel so good, babe,” Harry moaned as he rocked back and forth on his hands and knees to meet Edward’s thrusts.

“Yeah,” Edward grunted. Sweat was beading on his brow. His entire body felt hot. He didn’t know what it was but being with Harry had him horned up more than usual.

Although he was normally a lot gentler with Harry, the aggressive, domineering part of him that had been growing during their time apart, asserted itself. Keeping one hand on Harry’s hip, he used the other one to yank Harry’s head back by the hair. “Yeah. Fuck yeah. You like that cock, don’t you, bitch?” he growled under his breath.

To Edward’s surprise, Harry responded positively to the roughness. He grunted as Harry clamped tighter around his cock.

“Y-yes, Sir!” Harry moaned. “Give me your cock, please! Fuck my hole! Breed me harder!”

As if the hunger gnawing at Edward’s insides needed more of an excuse. “Fuck, baby! Where did you learn how to talk like a fucking bitch?” he snarled under his breath as he pushed Harry into the floor and fucked him as hard as he could.

“A-a few Sirs helped me!” Harry managed between high-pitched mewling moans.

“Yeah, slut?” Edward growled. Every word that spilled from Harry made him want to fuck him harder and harder. “You got their contacts? I probably owe them a drink or two.”

Harry whined, his walls fluttering around the length of Edward’s cock when Edward’s thrust drove the head against his prostate. “I-I do, Sir!”

“Good,” said Edward. “We’re gonna invite them over. And I’m gonna thank them. Because fuck me, babe, being a fucking bitch suits you.”

He gave a few more erratic thrusts of his cock, driving it as deep into Harry as he could. One last smack of his hips against Harry’s and he slammed his cock home.

His balls pulled up against his body. His toes curled. His cock swelled and pulsed and throbbed and then, like a flood, he came.

So much came out of Edward, spurt after spurt of thick, viscous jism. The orgasm went on for the better part of a minute, the intensity and volume only tapering off a few seconds before the end. And like a good little cum socket, Harry’s asshole had guzzled down every last drop.

Edward pulled out and absentmindedly cleaned his cock off by wiping it on Harry’s cheeks. He realized then why it hadn’t felt quite right and had to laugh.

Fuck, babe,” he said as he idly spread Harry’s asscheeks with the heel of his thumb. “You know you’ve been away a long time when the sleeve you’ve been fucking for weeks feels more real than your boyfriend’s hole.”

Harry stood in front of the mirror and looked himself over once again. Edward had been back for the better part of a week now and they were having guests over—the guys that had topped Harry while Edward was away, and a couple of tops that Edward had met while overseas.

He ran his fingers over his naked body—Edward had forbidden him from wearing any clothes tonight—and couldn’t help but feel that his skin was too smooth to the touch. It felt more like rubber than flesh.

The shiny, plastic gloss that clung to him certainly didn’t help that impression. He knew it wasn’t oil or sweat because it didn’t smear, it didn’t come off him, and it certainly didn’t stain the places he sat.

It was as if something fundamental had changed about his body. His appetite for anything besides cock and cum had largely diminished and he didn’t think he’d needed to go to the bathroom for days. And whenever he showered, the water would just roll off his skin.

It was as if his skin was turning into silicone. And no amount of lotion or make-up could cover it up. Regardless of what he wore, he ended up looking like a mannequin. Or a sex doll, as Edward had said offhandedly at one point in the past couple of days.

Harry wondered if he should have been more alarmed. The change was clearly unnatural. A person couldn’t turn into silicone and yet, he didn’t feel the slightest bit concerned about it.

If anything, he was starting to get attached to the way he looked. IT felt good. It felt right. He’d seen a couple of pictures of his old self on his phone and had promptly deleted them, feeling a strange sense of disgust in the pit of his stomach.

No. With every passing day, Harry felt more and more as if this strange new silicone flesh was the body he was supposed to have. And even thinking of going back to his old self was oddly repulsive.

He slid a hand down the front of his body. His pecs and abs had never been better defined. And his cock, which was pretty much permanently hard these days, strained with need between his legs.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d actively leaked pre-cum from his now-considerably larger cock. He used to produce so much and yet now, no matter how much he played with himself, his cock stayed bone dry.

Nor could he remember the last time he came from his cock, now that he was thinking about it. He and Edward had fucked over and over again the past couple of days, but every orgasm he’d had, had come from his ass.

The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. The guests had arrived.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This story was written as a paid commission. If you are interested in commissioning your own story from me, please see the [Commissions] page for more information!

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