Second Skin

Chapter 1

Mason Lowery’s girlfriend dumped him on the day he dropped out of law school. It was a very modern sort of dumping as breakups go these days: Carly did it via text, telling him in no uncertain terms she wasn’t going to date a fat slacker with no career prospects. When he received the message, he sighed and looked down at the huge belly he’d gained during his brief stint in law school. It was a physical manifestation of just how much of a loser he was and he hated himself for it, for dropping out, and now for being dumped by the one person he’d thought he could count on for support.

His life sucked.

Two years ago, everything had been so different! Back then, he’d been a hotshot swim jock who narrowly missed qualifying for the Olympics. With washboard abs and killer looks, his girlfriend, Carly, had jealously guarded him, sometimes resorting to unseemingly tactics to keep potential rivals at bay. When he’d scored high marks on the LSAT and been accepted into Northwestern University’s law program, he’d felt destined for greatness.

All that had crumbled, however, almost as soon as classes started. The material was unexpectedly challenging and, for the first time in his life, Mason had been forced to study seriously. He had to spend more than sixty hours each week on coursework and, even then, was lucky if he managed to score better than average on tests and assignments. It was demoralizing and stressful.

He’d started binging on food almost from the beginning. By October, he’d put on ten pounds. Carly had refrained from commenting but, when he put on another ten, she suggested he work out with her at the gym. The problem was that he didn’t have the time! He devoted every spare moment to studying when he wasn’t in class and was barely getting five hours of sleep each night. If he started taking time out to exercise, he knew he would fail his classes.

He kept studying…and eating. By the end of the first semester, he’d put on more than fifty pounds. For the first time in his life, he weighed over two hundred pounds! (225 to be exact.) By the time spring break rolled around, his belly was rolling out of his t-shirts and sagging noticeably over his belt. He and Carly went to Cancun and he was so embarrassed by his fat belly that he hid in their hotel room the entire time. He told Carly he was studying–and he was!–but the real reason was he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone seeing him in a bathing suit.

By the end of the second semester, he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His weight had was well north of 275 pounds and he ended the year with a solid “C” average. After nine months of putting himself through hell, he had nothing to show for it besides a huge gut and middling grades. 

Lying in bed on the morning after his classes finished, he tried to roll over onto his side and found he couldn’t. His belly was so big it was holding him captive! He decided then to quit law school and leave Northwestern. As soon as he was able to roll himself out of bed, he went to the enrollment office and withdrew.

Mason’s law school days were over.

And so was his relationship. 

He never saw or heard from Carly again.

***

Mason’s grandmother, Simone Halston, lived on a remote island in Canada off the coast of British Columbia. She had lived there for the past thirty years, leaving only in the spring and the fall to travel to Paris for the fashion shows. Being a world-renowned designer came with perks and one of them was that she could live wherever she liked. She choose the island because she loved her privacy…almost as much as she loved her two grandsons.

Since Mason and his brother, Travis, were small, they had spent their summers with their grandmother on the island. Well, mostly. Mason had stopped going after he graduated from high school because he preferred hanging out with his friends (and having reliable Internet – the island had no cell phone towers) but Travis had yet to miss a summer. 

When Travis learned about Mason’s troubles, he immediately FaceTimed him, saying, “Yo, big bro! Let’s head up to the hinterlands and hang with the Canucks this summer! Ya in?” Without thinking, Mason agreed, only wondering later if it was a good idea. He’d been embarrassed enough on their video call when Travis did a double take at his double chins but his grandmother had a reputation for being even less tactful. She was, after all, a product of the fashion industry and that industry wasn’t known for welcoming people of all shapes and sizes.

What was he in for?

***

He arrived on the island in early May by seaplane after a harrowing trip during which the pilot had implied that Mason’s weight might cause them to exceed the plane’s carrying capacity. It took Mason a moment to realize the dude was joking and he’d laughed even though inside he wanted to strangle the asshole. 

People reminded him several times a day that he was fair game for harassment now that he was fat and he hated it. Having spent the majority of his life as a thin person, he was now awakening to the indignities piled on top of those whom society deemed overweight. It wasn’t fair and it hurt like hell. And yet there was nothing he could do. In the end, he’d sighed and hoisted himself into the seat while struggling to extend the safety belt over his protruding belly.

He forgot about his rising indignation as soon as the island materialized on the western horizon. Lying like a mermaid in repose in the midst of emerald seas, its beauty was legendary. On the lee side lay a protected harbor and home to majority of the residents. On the far side, though, the rugged coastline featured miles of kelp forests, craggy cliffs, and towering spruces and firs. His skin prickled every time he saw it and he had to even wipe away a stray tear from the corner of his eye.

He was home again.

Travis was waiting for him on the dock when he deplaned. It was an unexpectedly lovely evening with the sunlight dancing on the glassy surface of the harbor, gulls calling overhead, and a blue sky as far as he could see. A handful of wooden buildings ringed the harbor, forming the basis of the island’s sole town. Barely more than a hundred people lived there year ‘round and, even in the peak of the summer tourist season, the island’s total population barely exceeded one thousand. 

Even though it wasn’t far by air from Vancouver, the island felt isolated. Over ninety percent of its land area was designated wilderness and it lacked more than a very basic infrastructure. The primitive nature of the island was fine with everyone who lived there, though; it was a hidden gem that the locals seemed determined to keep that way. At that moment in Mason’s life, he was very glad of the solitude; the last thing he wanted was to be around a lot of people.

Mason balanced on one of the plane’s pontoons and paused to inhale the delicious scent of the sea before Travis extended a hand to help him onto the dock. He did a remarkably convincing job of not reacting to Mason’s massive weight gain.

“Welcome home, bro!” he said, pulling him in for a tight hug. “God, I’ve missed my big brother!”

Mason smiled, pushing away far enough to get a good look at Travis. His ‘little’ brother had filled out in the past year, packing on a lot of muscle while still retaining his slender physique. It was hard not to feel envious. Mason knew all too well that he’d been an even finer specimen of manhood less than a year ago himself and now he was… Well, he wasn’t a fine specimen in anyone’s book.

“Thanks, Trav!” he said, still checking out his little brother’s changes. 

Travis was nearly the opposite of him physically. Where Mason was well over six feet tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed, and, er, stout, Travis was dark-skinned, dark-haired, dark-eyed, slim and stood maybe five feet ten inches tall. He took after their mother in build and coloration and she in turn took after her father, the mysterious man their grandmother had never married and never talked about. Mason had only seen a couple photos of him and knew only that Travis looked like a carbon copy of him. There was much conjecture that the man had been of indigenous descent and Mason and Travis had toyed with the idea of sending in a DNA sample to narrow down their ancestry but so far had not done so.

Taking note of Mason’s scrutiny, Travis ducked his head. His long braid tumbled over his shoulder as he admitted, “I’ve, well, I guess you’ve noticed I’ve been working out a lot.”

“I guess so!” Mason exclaimed, clapping him on the back while trying valiantly to keep the envy out of his voice. “You look great!”

“I was stoked when I got here and found out Sean has built a totally sick gym,” Travis explained, reaching out to take Mason’s backpack from the pilot. He slipped it over his shoulder and tugged Mason by the hand up the dock, adding, “He’s waiting in the parking lot to bring us to Grandma’s. She’s, you know, busy with work stuff. She just got back from Paris last week.”

“Ah, I see,” Mason murmured. He wasn’t surprised that his grandmother hadn’t deigned to meet him at the harbor; she led a very disciplined life and rarely deviated from her pattern. She said consistency was necessary to remain focused in such an out-of-the-way location but he suspected she would adhere to a rigid schedule no matter where she lived. Putting these musings aside, he looked up and spotted a familiar red Land Rover idling nearby and commented, “That’s nice of Sean to take us.”

“Isn’t it?” Travis replied, looking over his (muscular) shoulder at Mason and smiling widely. “He’s such a great guy!”

Sean McClain and his wife, Laura, were the young proprietors of the island’s only guest lodge and outdoor gear rental business. (Actually, they did more than rent gear: They offered whale watching, kayaking and pelagic birding tours as well as backcountry excursions.) The McClains had moved to the island ten years ago as college grads and never left. In that time, they’d succeeded in building their business into a benevolent monopoly and employed more than half of the island’s residents–including Travis–at least part of the year. Mason hadn’t seen either Sean or Laura in five years but he’d heard from Travis that they now had two young daughters.

He gave the pilot a tip before following his brother up the dock. Soon, he was bumping along in the back of Sean’s four-by-four while Travis prattled happily in the front seat.

***

Simone Halston was a rail-thin woman in her early seventies with long, grey hair that she kept pushed behind her ears. Wearing thick-rimmed glasses, a fashionable angora sweater, and a linen pantsuit, she studied Mason carefully after he extricated himself from the Land Rover. She thanked Sean McClain and waited politely for him to leave before turning to Mason.

Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and sighed, “Oh, Mason! What happened to you? You’ve gotten so fat!” He blinked at this, taken aback, and was formulating a reply when she scrunched up her face, adding, “And that beard! You know it just makes your face look even rounder, don’t you?”

He had to work hard to bite off the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue and somehow kept his tone light as he stated, “You know I was miserable at law school. Well, one way I dealt with it was by eating. Oh, and by the way, I like my beard the way it is.”

He could feel Travis’ eyes on him and knew his brother was debating whether to intervene. In the end, though, he kept silent and allowed Simone to process her feelings about Mason’s weight (and facial hair.) She eyeballed him critically for some moments before concluding, “Hmmm, well, I’m happy to inform you that I have stocked only the healthiest foods in my pantry. I will make it my mission to help you slim down again, even if I have to take on the onus of being your personal trainer!”

Mason stifled a grimace as Travis chimed in, “Don’t worry, Granny! I’ll do the honors. Mason’s gonna be my workout bitch all summer!”

Simone scowled at this and turned her elegant back on both of them, stalking back inside her cabin. Travis grinned and elbowed Mason in the belly before following behind her.

Mason hesitated a moment, though, feeling disappointment welling up inside. Even though he’d anticipated this reaction, he’d been secretly looking forward to being reunited with his grandmother, hoping against hope that she would take him in her arms, hug him, and tell him how much she loved and missed him. In the end, though, he realized he’d been naive and stupid to wish for such a thing. He was fat and ugly now and apparently didn’t merit either love or affection from any woman.

***

Simone Halston’s cabin was opulently appointed. She had spent a fortune importing the very best materials, furniture, implements, and appliances from all over the world and had done her best to overcome the limitations of the island’s sketchy power grid. Two enormous, ultra-quiet diesel generators provided near instantaneous backup in the event of a power failure and she had hidden five, huge propane tanks in her garage. A satellite uplink delivered a reliable, if somewhat slow, Internet connection.The result was that, for Simone and her grandsons at least, wilderness living didn’t mean sacrificing comfort.

As remarkable as Simone’s cabin was, its location was even more stunning. The cabin was situated on the far side of the island atop a steep cliff and her living room window looked out to the west over the ocean. The horizon was dotted with tiny, fir- and spruce-covered islets. From her sofa, Mason routinely spotted a resident pod of Orcas surfacing and on occasion had witnessed migrating humpback whales leaping out of the water. If he hadn’t realized it before, it was clear that his grandmother lived a charmed life. The privilege of being a guest in her home again was almost enough to make up for her rude greeting.

Almost.

***

“You know that you will be required to set your alarm early every morning, don’t you?” Simone queried a while later as they were sitting together around her kitchen table, sipping tea and watching the sun dip toward the horizon. “The charter boat leaves the harbor before dawn, you know.”

Mason suppressed a sigh. The implication in his grandmother’s question was that being fat meant he was also lazy. Her judgments were rapidly wearing on him. He was tired after a long day of travel and really hungry but, as of yet at least, his grandmother had not offered him anything to eat. It was as if she was already forcing him to diet.

Determined to be a good grandson, though, he took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, I have already set my alarm for 5am. Walt said he wants me there by six every morning.”

Simone nodded. “I am glad that Walt agreed to take you on again. He is always telling me that you were the best first mate he’s ever had.”

“Maybe I missed my calling?” Mason commented drily. “I should have skipped law school and stayed working as an assistant on a charter boat.”

His grandmother made a dismissive gesture. “I’m afraid that would only be part-time employment at best, dear.”

Next to them, Travis laughed. “I think Mason was making a joke, Granny.”

“Yes,” Mason agreed before his grandmother could respond, adding somewhat intemperately, “I know it’s hard to believe but, in addition to being laughable, fat people can also be humorous.”

That, needless to say, was the end of that conversation.

***

The next morning

A Steller sea lion was bobbing in the harbor beside the dock the next morning when Mason pulled up on the old mountain bike he borrowed from his grandmother’s garage. It was the same bike he’d ridden every summer since he was ten and time and the elements had not been kind to it. He’d been certain the tires were rotten when he inflated them but surprisingly they held air. Perhaps even more surprisingly, they didn’t blow out when he settled his ponderous bulk atop the bicycle. Even so, it had been a precarious ride down to the harbor in the near darkness of early dawn with Mason worrying the whole time that the brakes were going to give out.

“Hey, buddy,” he called out to the sea lion. “You lost?”

Seemingly tamer than most sea lions that Mason had encountered, the beast regarded him evenly with its big, brown eyes, twitching its funny, vestigial ears slightly at the sound of his voice. It had a nasty cut over its right eye and Mason wondered what had happened. It didn’t look to be in the best of health.

“Ah, the poor bastard’s starving,” Walt Crichton, the charter boat captain and Mason’s boss, muttered, coming up behind him and placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “The fucking El Nino has totally fucked with the temperature of the ocean and the fish stocks have plummeted. The sea lions–and everything else–are in trouble. He’ll probably die in a few days and we’ll have to put in a call in to the Wildlife Service to do an autopsy.” 

Mason straightened and was about to reply when the captain surprised him by pulling him in for a friendly hug, exclaiming, “Ah, my boy! It’s good to have you back with us! I’ve missed you!”

He returned the hug, both touched by the old man’s affection and shocked at himself for having to blink back tears. Walt, he realized then, had always been a proxy grandfather for him, providing the gruff love and support he’d craved as a boy while stuck on the island with only his grandmother and little brother for company.

“You have filled out, son!” Walt commented, holding him out and looking him up and down. This ritual of being inspected by people was one that Mason was beginning to weary of but he liked Walt and indulged him. Besides, the island was so small that pretty soon everyone he knew there would have seen him; the ritual was nearing an end! 

After a few moments, the captain reminded Mason why he was so fond of him: His face didn’t betray any hint of judgment or disingenuity as he pronounced, “You look damned good!”

Mason gave him a hangdog grin. “Grandma doesn’t think so. She’s put me on a diet. I only had a piece of wheat toast and an orange for breakfast.”

Walt screwed up his wizened face at this, exclaiming, “What?! That horrible woman! Come on, boy! Rachel just finished making a proper breakfast. There’s even bacon!”

Mason’s stomach growled expectantly at this (bacon!) and he followed the old man up the dock and into the little shack that served as the charter boat office. Behind them, the sea lion watched them leave, not moving from its spot next to the dock. 

***

“Business is good, Mason,” Walt was saying as they finished up a large and extravagant breakfast. “Despite the fucking El Nino–and the fact that we’re catching shit when we go out–rich folks from the city are paying through the nose to book our charters.”

“That’s great,” Mason said, nodding. “I can’t wait to get back out on the water.”

Much like Walt had done with him, he found himself checking out the old guy for signs of changes in the five years since he’d seen him last. Walk Crichton was a salty old man about the same age as his grandmother. His shaggy, white hair was unkempt and his beard was scraggly but he nonetheless possessed an air of refinement under his crusty exterior that betrayed his days as a research librarian at McGill University. Walt and his wife Rachel had taken an early retirement and set up shop on the island around the same time that Simone Halston had made it her permanent home. Even though Walt took every opportunity to poke fun at Simone, Mason knew they had a cordial, perhaps even friendly, relationship.

Walt’s face crinkled into a fond smile as he patted Mason’s knee, saying, “That’s good because we’re taking my new boat, The Ondine, out in less than fifteen minutes. Providing, of course, that our customers have managed to find their way out of their beds at the McClain Lodge. Still remember how to do everything or do you need a refresher?”

***

The day turned out to be sunny and warm but the seas were unusually high, making for a boatful of seasick tourists; Mason and Walt were the only two people who hadn’t thrown up over the side. Despite the unfavorable seas, they’d had good luck and had landed a couple halibut within short order. The biting was so good that Walt decided to try for some chinook salmon and instructed Mason to prepare the lines.

He was putting lures on the outriggers when he looked down into the water and spotted a sea lion bobbing along behind the boat, just far enough from the propellers to avoid injury. He blinked in disbelief, recognizing it immediately from the gash over its eye.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “He followed us!”

Walt staggered over to him and stared down at the creature, blurting out, “Well, I’ll be!”

The sea lion stared up at them hungrily, managing to look both adorable and pathetic at the same time. It was too much for Mason and he turned to Walt, pleading, “Can I give him the leftover chum? He swam all this way. It seems a shame not to feed him.”

Walt looked from Mason to the sea lion and back, his fuzzy white eyebrows lifting. “I should say no because we’re probably setting ourselves up for trouble,” he began but then concluded quickly, “but, what the fuck, why not?”

Mason didn’t wait for him to reconsider and immediately dumped the bucket of fish parts over the side, watching with satisfaction as the sea lion gulped them down with obvious relish. From that day forward, the creature accompanied them out to sea on every excursion.

***

Chapter 2

Thanks to the El Nino, May was unusually warm and sunny with relatively little of the mist that chronically blanketed the island. Mason soon slipped into a comfortable rhythm. Five days a week he awoke at dawn and road his bike down to the harbor for his job on the charter boat. Almost every day Travis was waiting on the docks when The Ondine returned, ready to work out with his big brother in the McClain’s new gym. The two brothers would spend an hour or so grunting and sweating until Travis’ shift began in the rental store and then Mason would head back home for lunch and a hike with his grandmother.

After their rocky start, Mason and Simone warmed up to each other. Simone tacitly agreed not to bug him about his weight and he refrained from bridling when she became too controlling. His grandmother, Mason realized finally, was a complex woman who had carved out a unique niche for herself. Not many single mothers of her generation had been able to raise a child (Mason’s mother) while at the same time developing an important career. Simone had learned early the value of self-discipline and hard work. He knew that she drove herself at least as hard as she (tried to) drive him and he forgave her for it.

Between working out and walking, he gained some decent muscle mass and lost a few pounds over the course of the month, although not as much as he’d hoped. He tightened up a notch on his belt buckle but his belly still stuck out heavy and full before him. Worse, he realized he was becoming inured to either being ignored or ridiculed by people. For all but the last nine months of his life, he’d been a svelte, ripped dude but now it didn’t matter. People only saw a fat guy when they looked at him. It hurt and the pain didn’t abate no matter how much he tried to laugh it off. Every night, he would lie in bed, haunted by memories of the callous things he’d said to overweight people over the years. If only he’d known!

He might have found it easier being heavy if it weren’t for the fact that he was invisible to women. There were quite a few young, pretty women who went out on the charter boat but they pretended he didn’t exist even if he went out of his way to engage them. For someone who was used to being fawned over by the opposite sex, this was hard to swallow and he had to fight not to grow bitter. The problem was, as time wore on, it began to dawn on him that he may never lose all of the weight he’d put on. What if his body had decided to hold onto its new bulk for good?

***

Mason might be invisible to women and ignored by everyone else but he took some measure of solace in being the center of one creature’s world: The young sea lion quickly became his staunchest companion and closest friend. Even on days when he wasn’t working, Mason would buy several buckets of chum from the McClain bait shop and haul them down to the harbor where he would feed his new companion. 

He knew that he was developing something special with the beast when it let him sew up the gash over its eye. He borrowed a needle and thread and bottle of rubbing alcohol from Walt and sat down on the dock with his feet dangling in the water. The sea lion soon made its appearance between his knees and he carefully reached down and petted its head, relishing its soft, sleek fur. When the creature didn’t flinch, he took it as a good sign and held the needle down so that the beast could see it.

“I’m gonna stitch you up, Ok?” he said. “It’s gonna hurt but it will make you feel better.”

The sea lion’s deep, brown eyes held his with what could only be described as trust…and something else that Mason didn’t recognize. He felt reassured by whatever it was, though, and dabbed some alcohol onto the wound, quickly following this up with a deft stitch of the needle. The sea lion remained completely still, floating there in the water between his legs and watching him with those depthless, lambent eyes.

Mason didn’t realize how amazing this was until he heard Walt whistle behind him, “Ho-lee shee-it! Would you look at that? He’s letting you jab a needle in his eye and not biting your legs off! Do you realize how vicious those things can be?”

Mason shrugged, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on stitching up the wound. “He trusts me, Walt. I feed him every day, you know.”

“That’s more than trust,” Walt observed. “That’s something else. I’ve never seen a sea lion take to a person like that.”

“Leo is a special sea lion,” Mason murmured, reaching down to caress the beast’s muzzle. “He’s not like anyone else.”

“Leo, huh? So, you’ve named him?”

“Yep.”

Walt watched them for a while, arms crossed skeptically. When Mason looked up at him a few moments later, though, the old man was smiling. He returned the smile and Walt leaned down to whisper conspiratorially, “Don’t tell anyone I told you this but, if you wanted to get him some live fish, I might know where there is an illicit weir nearby…”

***

Mason followed up on Walt’s tip and soon discovered the clandestine weir about a kilometer off of the hiking trail to the north of his grandmother’s cabin. It was well-concealed in a particularly dense part of the fir and spruce forest that covered the island. He found it by following a stream that crossed the trail, gradually bushwhacking downhill. Near the ocean, the stream widened and deepened, forming a natural pool. Someone had sectioned off a portion of the pool with a circle of rocks and seeded it with salmon. The fish weren’t huge but there were a lot of them and Mason reasoned he could steal quite a number before anyone noticed.

The only problem was how to get the fish to the seal.

He pondered this while following the stream down to the ocean, looking up in surprise after a few minutes when he emerged from the dense, mossy forest. Before him lay a sheltered cove with a broad, sandy beach. Sand beaches were uncommon on the windward side of the island and Mason knew from experience that where you find sandy beaches, you also find sea lion haulouts and rookeries.

As if on cue, his nose picked up the telltale odor of the beasts almost at the same moment he heard their loud barks and yelps. He looked down the beach to see a massive colony of sea lions. With the salty breeze ruffling his hair and gulls screaming overhead, he forded the stream and made his way carefully across the beach, stopping when he was still a good distance away from the animals. 

They were certainly noisy, boisterous creatures! The main part of the colony was dominated by a few, large bulls that had staked out prime territory on the beach. Many cows and immature sea lions congregated around these bulls but off to margins were a number of juvenile males. These young bulls were too small as yet to challenge the bulls for a breeding spot of their own but hope for a young bull springs eternal! They had found the optimal distance to taunt the larger bulls while staying just far enough away to make an escape if their rivals charged.

Mason smiled as he watched them, noting how much larger the bulls were than the cows. The biggest males weighed close to a ton whereas the cows were only a fraction of that size. The bulls had incredibly thick necks and dense manes of yellowish brown fur. They were an impressive sight and Mason was keen not to get too close. Not only did he not wish to disturb them during breeding season but he also did not want to risk being charged by such an enormous creature. Unlike their seal brethren, sea lions had four, large flippers that allowed them to move about very quickly on land.

He was turning to head back to the trail when a shadow fell across him. Startled, he looked up to find himself face to face with a largish bull. He was taking an inadvertent step backward when he recognized the animal from the scar over its eye.

“Leo!” he breathed, feeling his shoulders relax. “You scared me!”

The bull dipped its head at the sound of his name and shimmied closer, enormous flippers spraying sand as he did so. Mason swallowed, realizing then just how much bigger Leo was than he’d expected. Until then, he’d only seen the bull’s head sticking out of the water and his vast bulk had been hidden from view. Now that he was standing in front of the creature, he realized how insignificant he was. Leo wasn’t quite as big as the breeding-age bulls in the rookery but he wasn’t tiny, either. He guessed he weighed well over a thousand pounds and his head was nearly at eye level.

Mason’s nostrils flared as he took in the big male’s musky scent. Leo, like all sea lions, possessed a strong, distinctive odor. Most people found it offensive but for some reason Mason liked it. It was full-bodied. Rich. Masculine.

‘Masculine’? WTF? he wondered, only belatedly noticing that his skin had broken out in gooseflesh and he was having trouble breathing. Was this fear…or something else?

He took another step backward and then watched in confused alarm as the bull lurched forward, easily closing the gap between them. Mason gulped, trying to decide what to do. Too late, he realized he was guilty of anthropomorphising the sea lion and had projected all sorts of warm and fuzzy and human qualities onto him. In truth, Leo was a wild animal and a dangerous one at that. Far from taming him, Mason’s naive efforts had succeeded only in putting himself in great danger.

“Leo,” he squeaked. “W-W-What do you want? A-A-Are you hun-hun-hungry?”

The bull dipped its big head, eyes lighting up at the question.

Mason let loose a shuddering breath and struggled to regain his composure. “T-T-T-There’s a p-p-p-pool nearby with s-s-s-some fish in it. Want me to catch you some?”

Another nod.

Giving the bull a weak smile, Mason stammered, “OK! W-W-W-Wait here and I-I-I’ll be back!”

With that, he turned and fled into the forest. Behind him, the young bull watched him leave with an expression that could only be described in human terms as smug.

***

Chapter 3

By early June, Mason had overcome his fear of Leo and routinely visited the sheltered cove to bring him meals of fresh salmon. After some embarrassing trial and error, he had realized that, even trapped in a weir, the salmon were difficult to catch. At first, he had waded into the pool but the rocks were slippery and he soon took a spill, tumbling head first into the icy water. He returned the next day wearing his trusty wetsuit and carrying a net. He’d discovered the wetsuit still hanging in the back of a closet and was relieved to find the neoprene hadn’t rotted. Miraculously, the material was even stretchy enough to accommodate his new bulk. 

Every afternoon after his daily hike with Simone, he would take his leave, saying he was going down to the beach to surf. Folding his wetsuit and water shoes under an arm and slinging his boogie board over a shoulder, he headed out. Simone never guessed what he was really doing and Mason wasn’t about to tell her. After all, what would she think of her grandson wasting so many hours of his precious time caring for a sea lion? It was unproductive in the extreme.

Mason eventually developed a knack for netting the salmon and spent only a few minutes collecting three or four before meeting Leo on the beach in the cove. The bull would wolf down the fish and then they’d head out into the water, Mason splashing along on his board while Leo skimmed beneath the surface, winding his way through the kelp forest. The seal loved to rise up under his board and attempt to capsize him but it didn’t take long for Mason to anticipate and neutralize these attacks.

The kelp forest naturally damped down the large waves rolling in across the Pacific but there was enough surf to provide some exciting boogie boarding. Honestly, though, Mason didn’t even care much about getting up on his board; he was perfectly content to laze about on the board when the surf was low. The soothing rise and fall of the waves combined with the companionship of his sea lion friend were blissful enough. Sometimes, he would even let Leo tip him off of the board and savor the feeling of being suspended in cool, salty water. At those times, the giant beast would circle protectively around him, his great body warm, soft, and inviting. 

One day after Leo tipped him off the board, Mason reached out to enfold the big beast in his arms and was surprised when Leo complied, opening his great flippers and pulling him in. He took a deep breath and sank down, resting his cheek against the soft folds of Leo’s neck. He felt truly at peace as their bodies hung suspended in the briny water, kelp strands caressing them as they twisted gently in the surf. He wished he could hold his breath for longer and that they could stay entwined together forever.

When they got back to the beach, Mason stripped out of his wetsuit and lay down in the bull’s shadow. The sand was warm and welcoming and he wanted to nap but was strangely unsettled. He fidgeted, trying to get comfortable but nothing seemed to help. Finally, Leo grunted and moved closer, molding his huge body against Mason’s. This helped a bit and he was momentarily distracted from his discomfort by the pleasing sensation of the giant beast’s supple fur and contented breathing. Soon, though, he was squirming around again. Not until he reached down to adjust his pinching swim trunks did he realize was the problem was.

He was turned on.

What? he thought. Why the fuck am I so horny?

He lay there for a while, feeling his cock pulsing insistently in his shorts, and finally decided to give in and massage it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d beat off. His libido had been shit since he’d gained all the weight and, quite honestly, he didn’t like touching his dick anymore because it had shrunk up so much. The apron of fat sagging down from his belly had absorbed a good three or four inches of cock size and he’d been left with a pathetically tiny member.

One more reason to hate being fat.

Still, that day, his cock felt harder and longer than he remembered. Oh, it still barely reached the width of his palm but it was definitely hard as a rock. He was so fucking turned on! He shimmied his shorts down enough to release his cock and began jacking in earnest. Throwing his head back against Leo’s huge front flipper, he moaned loudly as he felt his climax drawing near. He was about to shoot when Leo startled him by jerking to side and slapping his flipper firmly over Mason’s crotch.

“Ouch!” he yelped, turning to give the bull a wounded look. “What the fuck was that about? Can’t a guy get off around here?”

In answer, Leo rolled partially over onto his side.

Mason’s brow furrowed. “Yeah? So, what’s your point?”

Then he looked down and understood exactly what the point was.

Something long, fat, pink, and slimy was jutting out from the space between Leo’s rear flippers. Mason’s eyes goggled at the sight of it. It was the biggest, ugliest penis he’d ever seen. He wanted to look away but his gaze was held captive by the disgusting thing and he found himself studying it more closely than he wanted to admit. He was intrigued to discover that it looked a lot more like a human’s than he would have guessed, complete with a large glans head and foreskin-like sheath.

Leo wiggled and his huge cock flopped insistently against Mason’s thigh. It was molten hot and pulsing. And nearly two feet long.

Mason gaped, heart pounding in his chest.

Leo wiggled again, this time more urgently. A trickle of yellowish jizz oozed out of the bull’s gaping piss slit.

Mason swallowed. The sea lion’s message was clear: He wanted Mason to jack him off.

“Listen, um, Leo,” he began, delicately trying to pry himself away from the enormous brute. “I, uh, you know, appreciate your asking but…”

Leo raised his head and let out an ear-splitting bark, causing Mason to jump. At the same time, the bull locked his front flipper over Mason’s crotch, effectively trapping him. Mason looked up and cringed when he saw the lusty fire burning deep within those fathomless brown eyes.

Leo was giving him no choice: He would not let go of Mason until he jacked him off.

***

It could have been worse as handjobs go. Leo softened somewhat after Mason gave in and relaxed his front flipper, allowing him to sit up. Closing his eyes, Mason reached out with shaking hands and took the massive, slippery thing in his grip. Leo let out a contented groan followed by a belch. 

Gritting his teeth and using both hands, Mason got down to business and began to jack off the huge brute in earnest. Judging from Leo’s reaction, he must have been quite skilled at it (‘Hey,’ he thought mordantly, ‘Something to add to my resume!’) but then he reasoned that, because sea lions lacked hands, they never got to experience the pleasure of a handjob. He could have given him the worst handjob ever and Leo would still have shot his wad.

And shoot he did!

Jesus! Nothing could have prepared Mason for the fountain of cum that exploded out of that hideous organ. He was left dripping with seal seed from head to toe and even managed to swallow several teaspoonfuls before he recovered enough to close his gaping mouth.

While the bull groaned in ecstasy next to him, Mason choked on the astringent flavor of sea lion cum. It was perhaps the grossest experience of his life and he lay there retching for a long time, feeling miserable. What the fuck have I done? he wondered. What the fuck have I done? I just gave a sea lion a handjob and swallowed his cum!

He was so worked up that he didn’t notice that Leo was licking his body until the bull had worked his way nearly up to Mason’s crotch. When his rough, wet tongue made contact with the delicate skin of his still-exposed penis, though, Mason drew the line and staggered to his feet.

“I, uh, gotta go,” he said lamely. 

Leo stared up at him, his red tongue (and red penis) still hanging out and Mason blanched. He didn’t even bother grabbing his wetsuit or pulling up his shorts before fleeing. He couldn’t get away from that beach fast enough.

***

Chapter 4

“Lemme get this straight,” Travis began and then stopped, correcting, “No, I mean: Lemme get this ‘gay’–”

“Travis,” Mason warned, glaring up at his brother from the cushion of the bench press, “I’m not gay!” He looked around the little gym, making sure there was no one else around to overhear their conversation before adding, “And, before you decide to get cute, no fat jokes about the sea lion mistaking me for his blubbery mate!”

Travis suppressed a snort of laughter, saying, “Whatever. But you’re definitely not straight if you gave a seal a handjob. I don’t know what that makes ya but it ain’t straight in my book.”

Mason’s sharp retort died on his tongue when he realized that Travis was right: He wasn’t straight anymore. He’d gotten undeniably turned on while swimming with a sea lion bull. Shit, he and Leo had done more than simply swim together! They had been entwined underwater and Mason had loved it. He had loved being held between the sea lion’s flippers, loved it when Leo nibbled his ear, loved it when… His cheeks colored and he stammered, “OMG! D-D-Do you think I’m–”

“What?” Travis queried, clearly enjoying watching him squirm. “Into bestiality? Maybe. It’s hard to tell. My guess, though, is that it’s just been too long since you got laid and you were super horny. ‘Sides, no harm, no foul, right? He made you jack him off, not the other way around. I’d say that makes your seal the pervert.”

“He’s a sea lion,” Mason corrected. “And, yeah, you’re right. He was really into it.” His voice broke off as he was overcome by a bout of shivering. When it passed, he looked up to see his brother watching him with soft eyes.

“Awww, bro,” Travis murmured, leaving his spotting position behind the bar to stand beside him. Mason sat up on and Travis folded himself down onto the cushion, slinging an arm over his shoulders and soothing, “Don’t worry. You’ll be Ok. Loving is never wrong! You and that sea lion clearly have a special connection.”

Mason hung his head. “Travis, I’m so messed up! I didn’t realize how lonely I was until this happened.” He sniffled and wiped away a tear that threatened to roll down his cheek. “It’s been a rough year. And it fucking sucks being fat! I fucking hate myself!”

“Shush,” Travis murmured. “You are beautiful no matter what you look like! You’re my big, studly bro!”

“I wish I could believe that!”

“It’s true,” Travis said evenly. “You are beautiful. Inside and out.”

Mason took a shuddering breath and allowed himself the luxury of sinking into his brother’s side. Travis held him for a long time and Mason had to admit that it helped; after a while he felt a lot better. He was beginning to think about moving apart when Travis cleared his throat.

“What?” Mason asked, looking up at him.

“It’s, uh, well,” his brother began before saying all in a rush, “While we’re on the topic of revealing secrets, I have something I need to tell you.”

“What?” Mason quipped. “You didn’t jack off my sea lion, too, did you?”

Travis laughed, looking down. “Nah, ‘course not! I’m not that kinky!” When Mason elbowed him, he grunted, adding, “I am, however, like you in another way.”

“And that is…?”

“I’m not straight, Mason,” Travis said. “And I’m in love with Sean McClain.”

Mason was stunned by this revelation. He’d never suspected his little brother of being gay, much less, er, dating his married employer.

“You’re not saying anything,” Travis observed. “Are you mad?”

Mason shook himself, saying honestly, “No, of course, I’m not mad! Why would I be?”

“‘Cuz I’m a fucking gay slut who’s getting porked by his straight, married boss?”

Mason winced, muttering, “He’s not straight if he’s fucking you. I’d call that bi. And as for the married part, does Laura know?”

Travis shook his head. “Nope, and we’re not gonna tell her, either. It’s Sean and I’s special secret.” He paused to squeeze Mason’s shoulder before exclaiming, “I’m so fucking in love with him! He’s my sir and I’m his pussyboy, Mason! Plus, like any good sir, he’s got a huge cock and, man, does he know how to use it! Shit, I can barely walk most days!”

Sir? Pussyboy? What did that mean? Mason grimaced, deciding he didn’t want to know. He was quickly coming to regret his decision to broach the topic of the sea lion handjob because it had initiated this uncomfortable quid pro quo. He could have continued on very happily without knowing the intimate details of his little brother’s sex life. He forced these squeamish feelings aside, though, in the effort to be supportive, and said, “I am happy for you, Trav. Really.”

“Good! Then let’s get our gym bods on!” his brother shouted, standing up and flexing. He was, Mason noticed, looking particularly svelte and muscular in his little pair of nylon shorts and skin-hugging tanktop. Not that he was checking him out or anything…

***

Maybe it was the arrival of the unusually sultry summer weather or maybe it was the delayed effects of his exercise regimen but Mason was delighted to find that his weight loss accelerated during the month of June. He both packed on new muscle and shed pounds, going down another two notches in his belt in less than three weeks. At the rate he was going, he reasoned, he would be back under 250 pounds by the end of the summer. That was still a long ways from his old ‘fighting weight’ of 175 but he wasn’t inclined to quibble. As long as he was losing fat, he was happy.

His arms got seriously pumped and he sported a huge pair of guns for the time in his life. He loved showing off his massive biceps on the charter boat while wearing a loose tank top. His big arms were complemented nicely by widening traps and bulging delts. And then there were his prize pecs. As he gradually shed fat, he could even feel the ghosts of his obliques emerging from the depths of his skin. For the first time in many months, he started to feel good about his body.

There was just one–Ok, maybe two or three–downsides.

While he was proud of the way his upper body developed, he was less proud of what was happening with his lower body. Sure, his waist was becoming slimmer but he still had a sizable paunch.

And his butt…

It was almost embarrassing the way the weight stubbornly clung to his ass. Even though he could tell his butt was firming up, if anything he was even bigger in back now than before. This turned out not to be his imagination. As June wore on, he could feel his ass pushing insistently against his formerly baggy cargo shorts. If this went on, he reasoned, he was going to have to make a trip to the mainland to buy new clothes!

Then there were his thighs.

Without even trying, Mason developed a set of the largest, most muscular thighs he’d ever seen. They were truly impressive slabs of meat and, when he wasn’t busy worrying about how big they were getting, he had to admit to being a little awed. Squeezing into a pair of underwear had never been such a challenge. They simply didn’t make boxers with leg holes large enough and, after ripping his last pair, he was forced to go commando in his shorts.

In desperation, he stopped doing legs at the gym and he started walking to work rather than riding his bike out of fear that the pedaling was causing his quads to inflate. Travis humored him and tried to reassure him that he needed to be patient and the weight would come off his ass and thighs in good time. As the summer wore on and his lower body continued to develop in bigger and more surprising ways, though, Mason became worried.

And finally there was his dick.

He’d been certain that he’d regain dick size as the flab disappeared from his belly. Unfortunately, that turned out not to be the case, or least he didn’t regain as much size as he expected. The apron of flesh hanging down over his crotch diminished, granting his shaft some of its missing inches. Still, he was barely average in size now when only two years ago, he’d been in the upper strata of men. His dick used to be nearly nine inches long!

Not anymore.

Mason kept telling himself that his precious manhood would reemerge as he lost more weight but as the days passed and his dick remained small–and maybe even got a bit shorter!–he became increasingly concerned. Was it possible for a man’s cock to permanently shrink?

***

As the weight came off and his muscles developed, Mason began to be noticed again. The only problem is that this attention came not from women but from men. The guys simply could not keep their hands off his ass! Even Walt was guilty of patting him on the butt a little too often. Mason thought back and realized that this was new behavior: Walt had never touched his butt before that summer. Sometimes, the old codger would pat him on the ass five or six times over the course of a fishing run. Mason tried to ignore it; he knew that Walt didn’t mean anything by it…but as these ‘butt pats’ became more frequent, he wondered if he should bring it up. For the time being, though, he decided to remain silent because he didn’t want to strain an otherwise good friendship.

If had been just Walt, Mason could have handled it, but Walt wasn’t alone in showing his backside attention.

As his shorts grew tighter, Mason became aware that guys were staring at him when he had his back was to them. He would sometimes turn around and catch them in the act. They would always look away quickly but not before he caught the almost predatory look in their eyes. He suddenly could relate to the young women he’d overheard complaining about unwanted male attention. What was up with his ass?

Travis was not sympathetic to his brother’s woes.

Mason lamented his plight one day when they were getting undressed in the little locker room off the gym after their workout. Travis listened politely, his hands poised on the waistband of his shorts, waiting for Mason to finish whining.

When he was done, he lifted his eyebrows, cajoling, “Aw, come on, bro! You know I’d kill to have an ass like yours, don’t you? Shit, Sir would cream his fucking jockstrap at the sight of me!”

Mason glowered back at him. “Travis! I’m being serious! I get why having a big butt would be, uh, an asset if you’re gay but I’m not! I don’t like being stared at!” He sank down on the bench, holding his head in his hands. “Fuck! Why can’t my body just go back to being normal! This never happened before I got fat!”

“Who says your body isn’t normal?” Travis challenged. “Maybe this is how you’re supposed to be? Maybe you should embrace it?” He paused in a thought for a moment before adding slyly, “I’ll bet Leo isn’t complaining.”

Mason looked up at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His brother shrugged, tugging down his shorts as he replied, “I’m saying that I know you’re still seeing your sea lion friend. I know that you’re going back to him every afternoon and even sneaking out of the cabin to spend the night with him sometimes.”

Mason’s throat went dry. He was wildly trying to come up with a convincing denial when he noticed something odd about his brother. “Travis,” he began, eyebrows lifting, “are those…panties…you’re wearing?”

“Yup,” came the blithe response. “Sir bought ‘em for me.”

“He bought you panties?” Mason repeated, unable to stop staring. The sight of his ripped brother clad only in a tiny pair of pink panties was too much. The fact that Travis had shaved his body smooth only added to the strangeness. It was disorienting seeing such a delicately feminine garment on an otherwise completely masculine body. At the same time, he had to admit he was intrigued and he couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering down to his brother’s crotch. There was just the smallest hint of a bulge protruding against the sheer, lacey fabric. What had Travis done to his cock?

“Mason,” Travis explained patiently, oblivious to his brother’s scrutiny. “I already told you he’s my sir and I’m his pussyboy.”

Realizing that his mouth was hanging open, Mason closed it with a snap. He sat there, struggling to find words for a long time before he sputtered, “Oh, Ok. I mean, that’s cool. I-I guess I didn’t–”

He never finished.

He didn’t finish because what Travis said next floored him.

Winking suggestively, he said, “You know what, Mason? You might consider getting yourself some panties, too. I’ll bet Leo would fucking lose it if he saw you wearing them!”

***

Chapter 5

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Like pretty much every other morning that summer, the day started out bright and sunny, thanks to the El Nino phenomenon. Mason arrived at the docks feeling refreshed and invigorated after an early morning (slow) jog. He’d recently started jogging in the perhaps vain hope that it would help him shed some of the pounds stubbornly clinging to his lower body.

Stopping by the little gym where he and Travis worked out, he showered off and dressed in his work clothes. He frowned a bit at how tight his shorts were getting in back, clinging to his big ass like a second skin. It seemed that he would need to make that trip to the mainland sooner than he planned to pick out new clothes. No matter, he thought, buoyed by an uncommon sense of well being. It’s too beautiful of a day to worry about clothes! He pulled his loose-fitting tank over his head and flexed his guns proudly in the mirror before heading down to the docks.

He took a deep breath as he stepped outside, savoring the salty, fishy scent of the harbor. It was just one of those days when it felt good to be alive!

Leo was waiting for him as usual and Mason’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the huge sea lion. The bull was looking particularly beefy lately, no doubt a result of the rich diet of fresh salmon that Mason pilfered for him. His neck was swelling with new muscle and his mane of yellowish brown hair shone rich and lustrous in the morning light. Even the wound over his eye had healed, leaving only a hint of a scar. As Mason approached, the sea lion pulled himself partially up on the dock with his front flippers, the wooden pilings groaning under his enormous bulk.

Mason cast about to make sure no one was watching before he squatted down (as far as his tight shorts would allow) and took Leo’s great head in his hands. He smiled down at his giant friend and, feeling overcome by whimsy, he teased, “How’s my big, strong bull this morning? Am I your plump, little cow, huh? Oh, yeah! That’s right! I’m your plump, little cow and you’re my big, strong bull!”

The sea lion emitted a deep growling bark and Mason laughed, feeling giddy. When he lifted his head and met his bull’s eyes, though, his breath caught in his chest. Leo’s gaze was smoldering with a carnal fire. He blinked, not knowing what the fuck had come over him. (‘I’m your plump, little cow’? WTF?!) He withdrew his hands from Leo and was starting to straighten when he had the strong feeling that someone was watching him. He looked over his shoulder.

Behind him, queuing up next to The Ondine was one of the families who had rented the charter boat that morning. They had arrived really early, even before Walt had opened his little office and stood on the docks, yawning sleepily. The group consisted of a middle-aged couple and their two children, a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties and a teenage boy. The parents and young woman had binoculars and were watching a pair of sea otters drifting lazily in the kelp forest on the far end of the harbor. Sea otters were uncommon on the island and Mason couldn’t blame them for their excitement at seeing the creatures.

Unlike the rest of his family, though, the boy was staring intently at Mason. He was far away but even from that distance there was no mistaking the burning look in his eyes. It was the same look that Leo had just given him.

Mason swallowed, abruptly realizing that his shirttail had ridden up his back and a good six inches of his big ass were hanging out the back of his shorts. Cheeks coloring, he pulled his shirt down but not before the boy had locked eyes with him.

He looked down, suddenly aware that by doing so he’d just ceded dominance. Fuck! he thought. What the fuck is going on? Why is he looking at me like that? He became even more disturbed a moment later when he realized that his cock was pulsing, hard and ready, in his shorts. He shivered, feeling chilled even though the morning was a warm one.

In spite of himself, he had to admit that the kid was pretty hot. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was probably about eighteen years old or so but he looked mature for his age. His shaggy, brown hair was covered by a red baseball cap, rakishly askew on his head. He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and saggy, nylon basketball shorts. The kid was obviously a jock.

And a very handsome jock at that.

Fuck, Mason! Get yourself together! He’s just a fucking kid! And you’re not gay!

Leo grunted and Mason looked down at him, unable to stop blushing. If the sea lion had had eyebrows, one of them would have been arched. As Mason stared, heart pounding in his chest, the big bull looked from him to the boy and back again, emitting a deep, warning growl in the back of his throat.

Mason bowed his head. He felt guilty even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. In desperation, he soothed, “Hey, Big Bull, don’t worry. I told you I’m your little cow and I didn’t lie!” As soon as he said it, he realized how ridiculous this sounded and felt embarrassed. Why the fuck am I placating a sea lion? Still, he hated the thought of Leo being angry with him.

He gave Leo a reassuring hug before standing up and walking on wooden legs up the dock and past the family, keenly aware of the boy’s stare. Almost unconsciously, his gaze drifted downward as he lurched by the kid and he jerked in startled surprise when he saw the outline of the huge erection pressing luridly against the shiny fabric of his shorts. From the looks of things, the kid was hung. Really hung!

Mason swallowed hard and all but scurried into Walt’s office, glad when he had pushed the door closed behind him. His cock was burning like a brand in his shorts and he was grateful for the first time in his life that it was now so short, rendering it less obvious. He tugged his shirt down, feeling like his stomach was filled with butterflies.

What was wrong with him?

***

The boy kept his eyes on Mason the whole trip, barely looking away when his family was joined by another that included a boy his own age. The two families were vacationing together and chattered practically non-stop from the time The Ondine left the harbor. Mason kept his head down and forced himself to ignore the kid. He did a good job of it, too, managing to keep busy the whole morning. From time to time, he would look up quickly only to look away again, cheeks flushed, when he was met with that relentless, simmering stare.

The ocean was unnaturally still and hazy that morning and the rising sun grew increasingly intense. There wasn’t even the breath of a breeze. Mason was soon sweating in his clothes and, under normal circumstances, would have tugged off his shirt. That day, however, he stopped with his hands gripping the hem of his shirt and reconsidered when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy sit up expectantly. He sighed and let his hands fall back to his side. He didn’t want to do anything to encourage the boy’s attention.

If Mason hoped the young guy would get bored and give up the hunt, he was sorely mistaken. He had Mason in his sights and wasn’t going to give up without a fight. His chance came when Walt spotted a humpback whale and her calf breaching nearby and steered the boat around so his passengers could get a look. Everyone crowded toward the front of the boat leaving Mason and his admirer alone in the back. 

While his family oohed and ahhed, the boy sat watching Mason as he fastened pieces of bait to the outriggers, preparing for another run. Even though Mason didn’t look up, he could feel those eyes on him and his pulse began to race. He pretended to casually look around and then had to grab the railing to keep from falling over when he saw the boy lean back in his chair and spread his legs. Nonchalantly, he peeled the fabric of his shorts back, back, back until…

Mason goggled.

The biggest, fattest, darkest cock he’d ever seen flopped out of those shorts.

Mason couldn’t help it. His eyes went round and he felt the color drain out of his face.

A cock like couldn’t be possible! Not on a human! Holy fuck!

The boy smirked at his reaction, taking his hand and moving it languidly down his enormous shaft. He peeled back his long foreskin, exposing an unusually pink, tender-looking glans. Then, glancing up to be sure that Mason was still watching, he looked back down at his cock, eyes going wide in mock surprise as if he had no idea where such an enormous slab of meat had come from. When Mason rolled his eyes, the boy winked, lips twisting into a proud sneer. 

Mason’s heart began to pound as he woke up to what was happening. This isn’t a game! He reminded himself sternly even as his cock hardened in his shorts. And you’re not gay, Mason! Turn your back on him! Don’t encourage him!

It didn’t work.

While Mason desperately tried to make his body listen to his brain, the kid pushed himself up off his chair and sauntered over to lean on the railing next to him.

“Hey.”

Mason tried hard to stop himself but ended up looking over. His mouth went dry and his neck grew hot as he drowned in that hungry stare. The kid was beyond handsome with perfectly symmetrical, square features, haphazardly unkempt hair, and five o’clock shadow. His lips were full yet manly and they quirked as he watched Mason’s throat move up and down. Somehow, after a long time, Mason managed to choke out, “Hey.”

The boy didn’t respond. He was obviously relishing the undisputed power he wielded. Very slowly, he lifted his arm, placing it on Mason’s back. Mason braced himself, feeling his cock go rigid in his shorts, as that hand–the fucking hot hand!–slid down his back and landed on his waist, tugging him in close. Soon, he was shoulder to shoulder with the young stud.

“Dude, my cock wants to meet your asshole,” the kid announced in a surprisingly deep voice. “Any chance you could introduce us?”

Mason wanted badly to roll his eyes. This whole thing was unfolding like a really poorly-written porn and he guessed the boy was winging the whole thing, pretending like he was an old pro when he’d probably never done anything like this before. Still, if the kid was acting, he was damned confident and betrayed no hint of nervousness. He knew he held Mason captive with the sheer magnetism of his presence (and huge cock.)

Casually, the boy looked over his shoulder. Walt and the rest of the passengers were still out of sight at the front of the boat. Mason could hear them chattering excitedly as the mother whale blew water out of her blowhole. His chest clenched: There was no one to save him and he didn’t have the strength to resist. He was at the boy’s mercy.

Taking Mason’s silence as consent, the boy kept his left arm slung protectively over his waist while at the same taking Mason’s fingers in his right hand and moving them inexorably down toward his crotch. As a little mewl escaped Mason’s mouth, the boy shoved his hand down into the front of his shorts. Mason gasped as his hand closed over that fantastically swollen member. It was so long, so fat, so hard…Ungh! Jesus Christ! What a cock!

The boy might be young but he knew what he wanted and how to get it. While Mason stood there fondling his massive meat, the kid fumbled with the button of Mason’s shorts with his free hand, eventually managing to unfasten it. When it popped open, he exhaled in triumph before lowering his hand down to grab Mason’s little cock.

“Fuckin’ shit!” he exclaimed in surprise. “That’s all you got down there? Fuck, that’s not a dick! That’s a fuckin’ pussy!”

Mason’s cheeks flamed and he lowered his head in shame as he stammered lamely, “I-I-I used to be a lot bigger! I used to have–”

“Shut the fuck up!” the boy commanded and Mason fell silent, his whole body shaking with humiliation. He knew he shouldn’t let the boy treat him like this but was powerless to stop him. As he struggled to reclaim his fading masculinity, the boy was watching him with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he muttered, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t give a shit about your little cock. That’s not why I’m here.”

He pulled his hand away from Mason’s crotch and lifted onto his back. Mason shivered as he moved his fingers down the back of his shorts, working them deftly beneath the tight waistband and sliding them into the cleft of his burgeoning buttocks. Mason yipped in startled surprise when the boy’s probing middle finger scored access to his hairy asshole.

“Fuuuuuuck,” the boy exhaled. “That’s one tight hole ya got there.” When Mason whimpered pathetically, unable to form a coherent reply, he snorted, “It’s a shame, really. A tight hole on a big, slutty girl like you?” Shaking his head, he tsked, “You know what? A guy oughta do sumthin’ ‘bout that.”

Mason gurgled. Setting aside for a moment the topic of his virgin hole, he objected strongly to being referred to both as a slut and a girl…but he was completely helpless. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make himself drop the hot, pulsing cock in his hand nor could he pull away from the boy’s prying fingers.

“Ya want me to take ya right here?” the boy pressed, managing to work the tip of his finger inside Mason. “Ha! I know ya do ‘cuz yer a horny bitch-ass slut!”

“No, please…” Mason managed to gasp, clenching his hole. He wasn’t ready for this! And he was at work on a boat barely twenty feet from a half dozen people. What the fuck was the boy thinking? What if they were discovered?

“Awww, darlin’,” the kid murmured, turning his head and planting those luscious lips over Mason’s. “It’ll be alright. I know what I’m doin’. I’ll be in and out before ya know what hit ya! And yer hole’ll never be the same! I’ll leave you gaping like the slut you are.”

His lips were soft and wet and hot. The combined stimulus of the kiss, the cock, and his fingered hole was too much for poor Mason’s overloaded system and he went slack in the boy’s arms, surrendering. It was too much! The boy was too much and Mason was too weak! He couldn’t help it!

The boy’s eyes flared with triumph when Mason nodded. Letting go of the monster cock, Mason was reaching down to unfasten his shorts, preparing to bend over, when a deafening howl erupted from the water beside the boat. He barely had time to turn when he witnessed the impossible: A more than fifteen-hundred pound sea lion leaping over the side of the boat and landing with a thunderous clap on the deck. The Ondine listed precariously to starboard, threatening to capsize, as the bull lunged with large fangs bared at the hapless boy.

Mason didn’t think. He moved instinctively between the boy and Leo, shoving the kid aside. The boy rolled over, landing in a heap down in the galley. Time slowed down as Mason made eye contact with his sea lion and Leo frantically tried to pull back. He managed to close his mouth, saving Mason from his fangs, but had too much momentum going to stop. He slammed into him even as he lifted his head, tossing him high into the air. Mason barely had time to register his trajectory, spinning head over feet toward the unexpectedly fast-approaching ocean surface before he smacked into it.

The world went dark and he lost consciousness.

*** 

Chapter 6

Mason regained consciousness with a start, coughing up salty water and gasping for air. It took him a moment before he realized where he was and, when he did, he cried out in surprised delight: Leo was cradling him in his giant flippers, lying on his back in the water as the surf rocked them gently from side to side. The sun shone benignly down on them as gulls drifted lazily in the still air above. All was right with the world.

“Leo,” he breathed. “You saved me!”

In answer, the big sea lion lifted his great head and gently licked his ear. Mason sighed, snuggling into the beast’s soft fur.

“Ho! Boy!” a voice called out from the distance. “Hold on! I’m almost there!”

Mason looked up and saw The Ondine bearing down on them. As he watched, Walt waved to him and, fighting back disappointment, he waved back. Part of him didn’t want to leave Leo; he felt so wonderfully secure in the massive animal’s protective embrace.

“Looks like I gotta go,” he muttered, turning to look into the sea lion’s tender eyes. He swallowed before choking out, “Thank you, Leo! Thank for saving me from that kid and from drowning!”

***

The boy was only slightly bruised after his unceremonious tumble into the galley and his family–in a sanguine mood after an otherwise spectacular trip–was mollified when Walt issued them a full refund. Mason suspected that the kid’s ego was more bruised than his body; he sulked in the hold the whole way back to the harbor.

Walt saved up his torrent of abuse for when they were back in the privacy of his office. Once he’d closed the door behind them, he ranted and raved as Mason sat there, wrapped in a blanket and waiting for him to calm down enough to listen. The old man started out threatening to call the Wildlife Service and have Leo shot but relented (after a fashion) when Mason assured him that Leo would never follow The Ondine out to sea again.

“And just how are you gonna make that happen?” Walt barked. He crossed his arms and glared down at Mason as he pretended to cower meekly, doing a convincing job of appearing chastened.

“He’ll listen to me,” Mason replied. “I know it.” When this was met with skepticism, he added, “You saw how he rescued me, right? It proves he’s no ordinary sea lion. He will listen to me when I ask him to leave us alone.”

Walt raised a fuzzy, white eyebrow, huffing, “I don’t know. People are starting to talk about you and that sea lion, Mason. They already think he’s dangerous. When they hear about this incident, it’s not gonna help. I knew it was mistake when I let you feed him. He’s a wild animal, not a pet! You saw how he almost capsized the boat! We could have all drowned!”

“But we didn’t,” Mason pointed out. “And we are all fine. When he stops showing up at the docks in the morning and doesn’t follow the boat anymore, people will forget about him. Just let me talk to him.”

Walt stared down at the floor, looking unhappy as he muttered, “I don’t know…”

“Listen, I’ll make you a deal,” Mason offered. “If he shows up again at the docks tomorrow, you can call the Wildlife Service. But if he doesn’t–”

Walt didn’t wait for him to finish. Throwing up his hands, he exclaimed, “Alright! Alright! You win! I give up! Go talk to your sea lion.”

“Thanks, Walt!” Mason chirped, “I’ll take care of it.” Getting up from the chair, he was heading out of the office when he stopped, adding, “And I insist on covering the refund you gave the family. Take it out of my wages?”

Walt pursed his lips, considering his reply. After a while, he exhaled deeply and nodded, saying, 

“Yeah, Ok. Sure. Thanks, that’s very mature of you, boy.”

Mason smiled and was heading out the door when Walt reached out and patted him fondly on the butt. He froze, fighting the impulse to say something to the old man but then grimaced and kept moving.

Why couldn’t men keep their hands off his ass?

***

His grandmother called out to him from her basement studio when he got back to the cabin. He froze, halfway up the stairs to his room. He was only stopping by the cabin long enough to grab his wetsuit and boogie board and had hoped to get in and out undetected.

“Mason!” she yelled. “Come down here. I need to talk to you.”

He sighed, bracing himself for another tirade about his sea lion, and reluctantly turned to head downstairs.

“Yes?” he inquired politely at the door to her studio. 

The room took up the entire downstairs of the cabin and, much like the living room, offered a stellar view of the ocean. The early afternoon sun slanted through the picture windows lining the western side of the building. Out on the sea, a tugboat chugged past, heading back to Vancouver. Simone sat before her wide-screen computer, reading glasses perched on her nose. 

While he waited for her to finish the text of an email, he surveyed the studio, impressed by the mix of state-of-the-art fabric design equipment and old-fashioned machinery. The place was a rainbow of hues with swatches of fabric scattered everywhere and more colors of thread than Mason had ever seen. Mannequins, looms, work tables, and closets full of clothes filled the room. In every other aspect of her life, Simone was hyper-orderly but her workspace was a notable exception. He had no idea how she kept track of her designs amidst the clutter.

“Mason, dear,” she began in a raspy voice, lifting her glasses onto her forehead and peering up at him from the computer screen. “I need to talk to you about something.”

He suppressed a groan, thinking, ‘Here it comes!’ and put on his game face. If he could handle Walt’s displeasure, though, how much worse could Simone’s be? Doing his best to sound polite, he inquired, “And what might that be, Grandmother?”

She paused and pulled a wry face, exclaiming, “My, my! What did I do to deserve such gentlemanly treatment?” She didn’t wait for him to respond before continuing, “I am curious about your plans after this summer, Mason. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

The topic caught him off guard and he stared at her for a moment, looking like a deer in the headlights, before he recovered enough to stammer, “I-I-I haven’t, I mean, I–”

Simone’s face broke out in a smile and she was uncharacteristically gentle as she prompted, “Mason, this isn’t a trap. You can be honest with me.”

He blinked, wanting to believe her but also knowing that his grandmother did nothing without an overarching plan. After thinking frantically for a moment, though, he shrugged and answered truthfully, “You know, I really hadn’t thought about it. I have been too busy enjoying my time here on the island. I guess I thought I’d worry about what comes next when I leave in September.”

Simone nodded, murmuring, “Yes, yes. That makes sense and I can’t blame you. It is a paradise, isn’t it? So easy to forget one’s troubles.” She paused and took a deep breath, exhaling wistfully before continuing, “That’s why I decided to settle here, you know.” 

“I do.”

She smiled faintly at this before turning back to the topic at hand. “I ask only because I received a most intriguing email from a dear friend and she mentioned you in it.”

Caught off guard once again, he sputtered, “She did? Why?”.

Simone swiveled in her chair to face him. “I should explain first that this friend used to specialize in international business law and represented my company years ago. She has since moved on from private practice but we stay in touch.”

“I see,” Mason began tentatively, the pieces of the puzzle starting to come together now that he knew the friend in question was a lawyer. “But why would she ask about me?”

“She has taken a new position as one of the directors of the Program in Refugee and Asylum Law at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor,” Simone explained. “And she was asking me if you might be interested in applying to the program. She has already talked to your former professors at Northwestern and seems convinced that you would be a good fit. The center is world renowned, you know.”

Mason was dumbfounded by this and stood there with his mouth hanging open for some seconds before he recovered enough to say, “I-I-I can’t believe that. I barely passed my classes at Northwestern! I mean, why would she think that makes me a suitable candidate for a top-ranked program? And isn’t that center only for graduate studies?”

Simone gave him an unreadable, almost sphinx-like smile in response. After a while, she answered obliquely, “Mason, it may not be obvious to you but it is to everyone around you.”

His tongue felt thick in his throat as he pressed, “What? What is obvious?”

The corner of Simone’s mouth lifted in an almost sad smile. When she spoke, she didn’t answer his question directly. Instead, she said, “There are already enough lawyers in the world with sparkling intellect, Mason. In fact, I would argue there are far too many. What we need instead are lawyers who have a heart and a conscience.” She stopped, removing her glasses from her forehead. As he stared, she pointed them at him, stating, “You have a heart, Mason. Use it.”

***

Leo was waiting for him on the beach of the cove when he appeared, carrying a net full of young salmon. The big bull let out a deep bark that sent thrills down his spine and he couldn’t help laughing as he threw his arms around the huge animal’s neck.

“My god, how I missed you!” he exclaimed, burying his face in the sea lion’s soft mane. “Thanks again for saving me today!”

Leo growled, tossing his head back and forth in a display of proud dominance, and Mason laughed again as he stepped back to retrieve the net. He tossed the still-wriggling fish up in the air and the sea lion snapped them deftly up in his great jaws before gobbling them down. Mason shook his head; he never grew tired of watching his sea lion. Leo was so big, so powerful, so…

He stopped himself there, feeling his dick grow hard even as his cheeks flushed. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me? he wondered for perhaps the millionth time that summer. Why do I find Leo so fucking sexy? He’s a sea lion for fuck’s sake!

He took some consolation in knowing that, beyond that one time when Leo ‘forced’ him to jack him off, their, ahem, relationship had been mostly chaste. Apart from some cuddling, maybe a little groping here and there, and a few nights spent wrapped in the sea lion’s flippers, they had been well-behaved. Still, there was no denying that his feelings for Leo surpassed normal and ranged deeply into the realm of the unnatural.

Mason had no idea what had gotten into him. Until that summer, his feelings of sexual attraction had always been directed toward women. He’d never looked at another man and had certainly never been attracted to an animal. Leo, however, had changed all that and, if Mason allowed himself to ponder his feelings for the sea lion, he became increasingly uneasy. Most of the time, though, he stopped his mind from going there and simply enjoyed the pleasure of the beast’s company. There was always tomorrow to worry about what it all meant. Right now, he just wanted to savor Leo. Everything about Leo.

When the sea lion had finished wolfing down his meal, Mason sat down in the sand next to him, smiling up at his big friend. “Leo,” he began carefully, “you know I’m glad you saved me today from that kid on the boat today, right?”

Anyone but Mason would have been surprised when the bull nodded in response to this query. Mason, however, took it all in stride. He had always known that Leo was extraordinary and it didn’t seem the least bit unusual that the beast understood what he was saying. He’d had many heartfelt conversations with the sea lion over the past couple of months and he never once doubted that Leo comprehended every word.

Squinting up at him, Mason continued, “There is only one problem: Not everyone is happy with what you did. Walt freaked out on me when I got back to his office and I had to promise him that you would never visit me in the harbor or follow me out on the boat again.”

When this was met with a startled bark of protest from Leo, Mason held up his hand, placating, “Hey, listen to me! I’m not saying that you can’t follow me or the boat, I’m just saying that Walt can’t know that you’re following us, Ok?”

Leo started to toss his head defiantly but then stopped and looked down at Mason. There was the unmistakable glint of sly understanding in the those beautiful, brown eyes.

“I see you get my meaning,” Mason observed. “You’re a smart man, Leo. I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep tabs on me without Walt being any the wiser. Am I right?”

Another nod.

Mason smiled, pushing himself up off the sand and saying brightly, “Good! Now let’s go for a swim. I want to show you how grateful I am for saving my life but I wanna get you underwater first…”

This was met with a roar of delight and Mason raced the sea lion into the surf, feeling his heart expand in his chest even as his cock expanded in the crotch of his wetsuit.

***

Travis caught up with him on the trail on his way back to the cabin that evening. He’d heard all about the incident on the boat from Walt but, perhaps unsurprisingly, his take was a little different than the crusty sea captain’s.

“Mason,” he said solemnly. “If you’re serious about Leo being your sir, you have to commit to him.”

Mason blinked, caught off guard by this. “Huh? My sir? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Travis crossed his arms. He was clad, Mason noticed, in a very skimpy pair of denim shorts and wore a crop top that exposed his toned, smooth tummy. His long ponytail was tied up on his head. “Your relationship with Leo isn’t so different from mine and Sean’s,” he explained, as if this were patently obvious to everyone but Mason. “Leo is your sir and you’re his pussyboy.”

“Travis!” Mason protested, holding up his hands. “Cut the fucking crap! I’m not Leo’s pussyboy! He’s a fucking sea lion, not a man. And I am not a fucking pussyboy! And, even if I was, there’s no way I’m gonna wear panties for him!”

Travis ignored him, stating flatly, “You are Leo’s pussyboy and he is your sir. Now start acting like it or there’s gonna be more trouble like today. You must commit to your sir!”

Mason exhaled deeply, exasperated. “Trav, you’re talking nonsense! There is no way–”

His voice died in his throat as Travis surprised him by pulling down his shorts, exposing the delicate, tangerine-colored thong he was wearing underneath. Mason froze, gaze inadvertently locked on his brother’s crotch. He had to admit that the thong looked pretty amazing against Travis’ beautiful, dark, supple skin.

As he stared, Travis turned and shook his bottom, giving Mason a stellar view of his flawless ass. The thong string disappeared within the deep, inviting cleft of his buttocks. Mason shifted uncomfortably as he started to get turned on.

“That’s a–” he stammered. “That’s a…Wow!”

Travis looked over his shoulder, giving him a sly wink as he said, “Yeah, Sir’s got good taste, doesn’t he? But that’s not what I wanted to show you.” He turned back to Mason, fingers resting on the lacy waistband of thong. He hesitated only a moment before lowering it, pulling it down his long, lean thighs.

Mason’s eyebrows shot up and he gaped at what was revealed.

What the fuck has he done to himself? he wondered, pulse racing and mind spinning in confusion.

“Trav,” he began, finding it hard to make his mouth work. “What–?”

“It’s a chastity cage,” his brother explained, wagging his crotch at him. “Sir keeps me locked up all the time.”

Mason squinted, only belatedly realizing what he was seeing.

Somehow, Travis had managed to lock his cock and balls inside the tiniest, tightest metal cage imaginable. It was so tiny that Mason wondered how a man-sized set of equipment could have ever been jammed inside there. It had to be uncomfortable at best and excruciating at worst.

As if reading his thoughts, Travis commented, “Yeah, sometimes it hurts but that’s part of the price we pussyboys pay, Mason. We can’t be trusted to be unlocked because we’ll get in trouble. Only by wearing a cage can you show your sir how much he means to you.”

Mason opened his mouth but no sound came out. While he stood there, trying to make himself look away, trying to make himself say something, trying to do anything, anything at all, Travis pulled up his thong and bent over to shimmy his shorts back up his legs. 

Buttoning up, he took Mason by the arm and steered him back toward the cabin, saying, “Tomorrow we’re gonna fly back to the mainland and get you fitted for your own cage, Mason. It is time you were made Leo’s property.”

***

Chapter 7

Mason couldn’t wait to get back to Leo. Even being apart from the big sea lion for one night while he and Travis were in Vancouver had been unbearable! He all but ran down to the secluded beach after the seaplane left him and Travis off in the harbor. Travis watched him sprint off, shaking his head and smiling.

Bursting out of the forest and onto the beach, he waved his hands, shouting, “Leo! Leo!” He’d only bothered pulling his wetsuit up to his waist in his eagerness to return to his sea lion.

Asleep on a rocky outcropping, the bull lifted his great head and let loose a deep bark before pushing up and launching himself across the sand on his giant flippers. He met Mason midway and they came together with a satisfying clap as their chests smacked together.

“Leo!” Mason breathed, past caring how ridiculous he was for harboring deep feelings for a wild animal. “I love you, Leo! I love only you!”

The sea lion growled happily at these words and pressed his snout into the cleft between Mason’s neck and shoulder. Mason laughed and turned to plant a warm kiss on the beast’s cheek. 

He savored the embrace for a long while, finally pulling away and murmuring, “Leo, I have something to show you.” 

He stepped back and peeled his wetsuit down, pausing dramatically before he revealed the sleek Speedo he was wearing underneath. The sheer fabric was a delicate aquamarine and it was cut high, almost like a thong, exposing more than a little of his beefy ass. Mason looked down at himself and smiled, proud for the first time of his huge butt. The tiny swimsuit really accented his curves in the best way possible. He loved how blocky, substantial, and hairy his ass was. It was an man’s ass that was meant to be seen, showed off and–he flushed a little at the thought–used.

Leo loved it, too. The big animal froze as he stared at him, eyes glazing over and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. A throaty, guttural grunt emanated from far down in his chest and Mason shivered, relishing the delicious feeling of being visually devoured by his magnificent friend.

“You like it?” he asked unnecessarily as a rope of drool slid out of the corner of Leo’s mouth. Mason laughed. “Travis wanted me to wear panties for you but I refused. This,” he said, shaking his butt a little, “is more me. Don’t you agree?”

Leo was so entranced by Mason’s Speedo-clad ass that he didn’t respond right away. After a while, though, he shook himself and looked up at Mason with an smoldering expression in his eyes. He didn’t need words. It was obvious how he felt: Mason was his and his alone. And more than that, Leo wanted him. Wanted him in the worst way.

The sea lion’s expression ignited something inside Mason’s chest that he’d never felt before that moment. It was more than love, more than lust, more even than desire. It was a feeling of hunger and pride and exultation all at once and the impact of it was nearly enough to bring him to his knees. Somehow, though, he managed to stay upright as he declared, “That’s right, Leo. You own me. And now I’m gonna make it official.”

He unzipped the pocket of his wetsuit and withdrew an object, holding it front of Leo’s questing gaze. The sea lion stared at it, mesmerized, before understanding slowly dawned on him. When it did, he lifted his head and let loose a deafening roar that echoed down the beach, causing the sea lions in the nearby rookery to momentarily fall silent as they turned in their direction. After a moment, though, they broke into frenzied barking. The sound was enough to make Mason’s cheeks color and he dipped his head.

He knew what it meant.

Yes, there was no mistaking it: The colony of sea lions was welcoming him as one of their own.

Looking down, he rolled the chastity cage around in the palm of his hand. It was so small, even smaller than Travis’ cage, but it was the right size for him now that his penis had shrunk down to a tiny nub and his balls were the size of small grapes. He knew that he would have no trouble locking himself inside it even though he was fiercely erect in his miniscule Speedo.

(‘That’s the way you’re supposed to be, Mason,’ Travis had said as he looked down at his brother’s shrunken member. ‘Pussyboys are meant to be small. Having a big cock would be an insult to our sirs. We are meant to be completely insignificant and subservient. Only by being completely subservient do we have value.’)

He paused to take one last look at himself before proceeding with the locking. He realized he felt simultaneously embarrassed and proud of the insignificant bulge in the crotch of his swimsuit. His cock was so tiny that there was no longer an obvious way to tell he was turned on even wearing a skintight suit. His package looked almost like the mound of a woman’s pussy. And, once he was caged, he knew it would be indistinguishable from a pussy.

Which, he realized, was the way he should be.

He was a pussyboy, after all.

***

His hands were shaking as he shimmied his Speedo down his hips, exposing his little boy. He blinked, still unused to the sight of it. He couldn’t believe how small he’d shrunk. His cock was little more than a limp piece of foreskin. And his balls… 

He shook his head and looked away, conflicted. Part of him couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He held out the cage, hesitating. Did he really want to go through with this? Was he really ready to be locked? Permanently? And for a sea lion?

Leo barked sharply then and he jumped, looking up at the big bull in chagrin. “Sorry, Sir!” he yelped. “I’m doing it now!”

In one quick motion, he opened the cage and slipped it over his cock and balls, closing it shut again before he could change his mind. Then, feeling his heart pound against his chest, he reached down and turned the key in the lock. There was a click and final tightening. His cock and balls pressed snugly against the metal.

It was done.

He was locked.

He took one last look at the key in his palm before lifting it up to Leo. With solemn authority, the giant beast opened his jaws and took the fob in his mouth. Mason watched breathlessly at the little silver key dangling between the beast’s teeth. That was his freedom right there. A sea lion held his freedom in its jaws. His freedom…

He blinked and Leo was gone.

Mason watched him head out into the sea, taking the key and his freedom with him.

He sighed.

It was official.

He was now Leo’s pussyboy.

***

When Leo returned, heaving his vast bulk out of the surf and lurching toward him over the sand, the key was gone from his mouth; the sea lion had hidden it away and Mason knew there was no way he would ever find it again on his own. He was permanently caged. 

He didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his cock freedom for long, though. Rearing up, Leo pushed him over and he toppled forward onto the sand, catching himself on his hands and sticking his ass up in the air. As he bent over, feeling the puffs of Leo’s hot breath on his ass cheeks, the sea lion gently reached out and tugged his Speedo downward, revealing Mason’s bare butt in all its glory. The sea lion then thrust his head between Mason’s legs, forcing his feet apart until his ass cheeks were spread wide open. Mason’s face went scarlet as he felt the salt air brush against his tight hole.

He was powerless to resist the bull, though.

Leo was his sir and Mason would do whatever he wanted. His body belonged to Leo now and it was Leo’s to use.

He bent over like that with his legs spread for a long time, feeling his tender hole twitch in anticipation, until Leo growled and dove in. Mason grunted, unconsciously arching his back and pushing his butt upward, opening his hole to the bull’s hungry muzzle. Thus prepared, the sea lion commenced eating his ass like a true master, leaving Mason to moan and whimper and groan as he was devoured.

He had no idea that an ass eating could be such a transcendent experience and came very close to cumming in his little cage. Leo, however, seemed to possess a sixth sense about his arousal and worked him to the brink of orgasm. Just when Mason was about to shoot, the sea lion pulled back and left him hanging ass-out, high and dry and crying out with frustration.

And this was Mason’s fate from that point on: Leo never once allowed him to cum and seemed to take great pleasure in working him into a frenzy, only to pull back at the critical moment. It was incredibly maddening and arousing on at the same time and had the effect of keeping Mason in a perpetual state of horniness. There could never be any relief for him, though.

He was locked.

He was Leo’s pussyboy.

***

The month of July passed in a delirious haze of sun-drenched pleasure as Mason’s love and desire for his sea lion master became intoxicating. He simply could not get enough of the big bull and spent every spare moment in his company. It was agonizing being parted from him and it took all of his resolve to get through the morning charter boat excursions, his workouts with Travis, and the afternoon hikes with his grandmother. By the time he was free, he was worked into a lather and would tear out of the cabin, running headlong down the trail to the hidden cove where his beloved sea lion awaited him. He burned with a fiery passion for Leo and the flames of desire could never be quenched.

His locked cock was a big part of the reason for this. He was helpless to satisfy himself without Leo’s help and Leo would never let him achieve release. As the month wore on, his libido reached a fever pitch and soon everything was a turn on. Every touch, every sound, every sight, every feeling aroused him. He was left perennially hard and leaking and finally had to stuff panty liners inside his underwear to absorb the cum dripping out of his cage. It was either that or be embarrassed by the dark stain spreading out through his undies and onto the crotch of his shorts.

Leo took this all in stride. His mood mellowed even as Mason’s elevated. The sea lion bull had become more relaxed and confident after his pussyboy ceded his sexual freedom and self-determination to him. He knew Mason would always be there, bent over and panting, his ass spread and his hole open. He was in control and he reveled in it.

***

And so Mason’s affair with his sea lion might have continued until September had it not been for a fateful discovery that changed everything. One day, Mason arrived at the fishing weir to find a note posted on a nearby tree trunk. It read: “Mason, I know you’re been stealing my fish. Meet me in my office tonight after 8pm…or the sea lion dies. –Sean McClain.”

He swallowed, chest clenching in fear. (‘Holy shit! This is Sean’s weir?’) His arms fell to his sides and the fishing net tumbled to the ground at his feet as he stared at the note. Slowly, he looked down into the pool of water, noticing for the first time how few fish remained. Over the course of the summer, he’d cleaned out nearly all of the salmon. He kicked himself for being so clueless and greedy. Of course, the weir’s owner would notice that he was stealing fish! Shit! He was such an idiot! The fact that it was Sean McClain only made it worse. Oh, what the fuck was he going to do?

He stood there for a long time, sweat trickling down his back and his mind working feverishly to figure out a plan. In the end, though, he came up empty and realized the inevitable: He had no choice but to go into town that night and face Sean McClain.

***

Chapter 8

Sean McClain was waiting for Mason when he entered the rustic foyer of the cabin that served as headquarters for McClain Enterprises. The building was made to look older than it was with distressed, unfinished timbers and the requisite stuffed animals decorating the interior. A moose head trophy loomed over the doorway to Sean’s office and the door had been left ajar. Mason could see the tall man seated behind his desk at work on his laptop. Observing him like this, it was easy to understand why Travis had fallen so hard for him. Sean was still quite young and more wiry than muscular but nonetheless possessed an undisputed alpha quality. He embodied the essence of a man in charge and the fact that he was incredibly handsome didn’t hurt. 

Mason found himself admiring him despite his nervousness and fear. Wearing a blue flannel shirt that was open at the collar, revealing a very hairy chest, Sean McClain had a square jaw, a thick but close-cropped beard, dark hair, blue eyes, full lips, and pleasantly tanned skin. He was, Mason knew well, the archetype of an outdoors man, a guy who excelled at pretty much every backcountry sport, including rock climbing, kayaking, backpacking, trail running, and, of course, hunting as evidenced by the prevalence of taxidermy specimens decorating his office. In short, he was the epitome of idealized Canadian masculinity and the sight of him was enough to make Mason’s knees go weak as he pushed open the door.

“Ah, Mason,” Sean growled, looking up from his computer screen. “You’re late.”

From the time he’d found Sean’s threatening note at the weir, Mason had practiced the script for this meeting and he had it all planned out: He would be polite and deferential, offering to pay for the salmon and apologizing for stealing them. He would tell Sean that he’d make it up to him–with interest–if he would agree to leave Leo alone.

For reasons he didn’t understand until later, though, he tossed out the conciliatory approach as soon as Sean spoke. The awe and trepidation he’d felt as he entered the office evaporated as he locked eyes with the man and all he could think about was Leo, his sea lion, the animal he loved more than anything else in the world. His eyes hardened and his blood began to boil. Here, seated before him, was the man who threatened to kill his beloved sea lion and he was not about to let him get away with it.

“This,” he barked, pulling Sean’s note out of his pocket and thrusting it into his face, “is not acceptable. You will not harm that sea lion. Do you understand?”

If Sean was taken aback by his attitude, he didn’t show it. He appeared unruffled as he gazed up at Mason, announcing, “As a thief, you’re in no position to make demands, Lowery.”

“Fuck you!” Mason spat, chest heaving. “That weir is illegal! You’re not allowed to keep salmon like that. And threatening to kill an endangered species is also against the law.” To underscore his point, he wagged the note again in front of Sean’s bemused face, declaring, “I have the proof. You even signed it!”

Sean’s eyes flicked from the note to Mason’s face and back again before he sighed, “Yes, it’s true: Having a weir is prohibited under provincial law and I did write that note, threatening to kill the sea lion.” 

“Good,” Mason said flatly, amazed that this was going so smoothly. He’d assumed that Sean would put up more of a fight. “Then we’re done here. I will apologize for stealing the fish out of your illegal weir if you apologize for threatening the sea lion. Deal?”

Sean didn’t answer right away. Smirking to himself, he leaned back in his chair and pulled an iPhone out of his pocket. As Mason watched perplexed, he casually swiped a forefinger across the screen. Still smiling, Sean looked down at the phone, murmuring, “Your grandmother tells me that you’re transferring to the University of Michigan’s Law School this fall. Isn’t that right?”

Mason swallowed but remained silent, skin prickling with premonition. 

Still flicking through pictures on the phone, Sean pressed, “That’s quite a prestigious school, isn’t it?” 

Mason bit down on his tongue, body breaking out in a cold sweat. He couldn’t see the screen of Sean’s phone but he didn’t have a good feeling about where this was heading.

“I wonder,” Sean continued, the corner of his mouth lifting into an undisguised sneer, “what would your new advisor say if someone sent her some videos of her newest student engaged in…depraved…acts with a wild animal. Do you think she’d reconsider her offer?” 

Sean held the phone out and pressed play. Legs shaking, Mason felt his stomach lurch as if he’d just stepped out into a bottomless void. The video had been shot from a distance but, even so, he had no trouble recognizing himself and Leo on the screen. His Speedo was down around his ankles as the sea lion exuberantly ate his asshole. The tinny sounds of Mason’s delighted cries rang out from the phone’s speaker, echoing through the room. 

He cringed as he watched himself bend over and spread his huge ass cheeks, exposing his hairy hole. The video zoomed in and Mason could see everything: His face between his meaty thighs, expression suffused with ecstasy as he bit his lower lip in anticipation; his pink, eager hole. Fuck, he could even see the little chastity cage peeking out from behind his fuzzy taint.

A voice rang out in his head and he started to panic, thinking, ‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck!’

There was more.

Sean’s face twisted with evil glee as he flicked through innumerable videos and pictures of Mason and Leo, each one more transgressive than the last. At some point, it was too much for Mason and he crumpled to the floor, falling onto his knees and holding his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe how naive he’d been. He should have known better! What the fuck had he been thinking? On such a small island, sooner or later someone was bound to discover them. A man engaging in sex acts with a sea lion was not something that would escape notice for long. And there was no hope of anonymity because everyone on the island knew who he was. He’d been a fool!

“Yeah,” Sean was saying, “it’d be a real shame if these videos were leaked. Shit, it’d be bad enough if your advisor saw them but what if they were made public? Ha! That would pretty much ruin you, wouldn’t it? And the authorities? Well, let’s just say they would take a great deal of interest in your activities.”

“No,” Mason managed to squeak. “No, please, I beg–”

Sean cut him off. “I’d say the crimes of having an illegal fishing weir and threatening to kill a nuisance animal pale in comparison, don’t they?”

“I-I-I-”

“Face it, Mason,” Sean concluded, “you’re fucked. Well and truly fucked. You had no idea who you were dealing with when you decided to steal that fish.”

Mason was so busy freaking out that he didn’t hear Sean get up out of his chair. Didn’t hear him walk across the room. Didn’t realize he was standing over him, glowering down, until he heard the telltale jingle of a belt buckle followed by the unmistakable unzipping of jeans. Too late, he raised his head and stared up at the man towering above him.

Pulling his belt out of the loops, Sean pushed his jeans down to his ankles and kicked them off, sending them flying across the room to land in a heap by the door. Very slowly, he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and threw it aside as well. Mason swallowed. Sean was now wearing only a very old, very stained jockstrap. His massive organ was pressing luridly against the yellowed mesh, leaking pre in a spreading stain. He held the faded leather belt in one hand as he reached down and grabbed his enormous package with the other.

“Mason,” he declared, “your punishment’s gonna be both a blessing and a curse. A blessing ‘cuz you’re gonna find out what it’s like to be used by a real man and a curse ‘cuz I’ll fucking destroy your pussy in the process!” 

Mason quailed before him feeling his sphincter clench in fear and Sean paused, savoring his power over him. He snorted derisively, continuing, “You have no idea what you’ve been missing. A sea lion? Fuck! There’s no way a sea lion is ever gonna rip open your pussy like a real man’s cock! Get out of your fucking clothes now, ya hear?”

When Mason hesitated, Sean raised the belt menacingly. A loud crack filled the air as he snapped it downward, narrowly missing Mason’s head.

“Get the fuck undressed now!” Sean raged, “Or the next time I’ll fucking rip your face open.”

Mason jumped, crying out in fear. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and his skin was clammy with sweat. All residue of boldness drained out of him as he shrunk down, reaching to unbutton his shorts with shaking hands. When he fumbled with the zipper, Sean cracked the belt again, this time bringing it down with a searing sting across Mason’s cheek. He fell back in shocked disbelief, clutching at his face and feeling blood wet his fingers.

“I SAID GET UNDRESSED NOW, BITCH!”

He looked up at Sean, face screaming with pain and head spinning. He couldn’t believe this was happening. This was not at all how he envisioned this meeting would go. He’d thought he’d known Sean McClain and had assumed that his relationship with Travis was little more than innocent role playing. Just some sort of sex play the two of them had concocted to keep each other entertained on the otherwise staid and boring island. Just some harmless fun.

Staring up at Sean as he brandished the belt over his head, Mason realized this was far from fun and certainly not a game. The man was on fire with unholy lust and sadistic power. His eyes blazed red and his face was a twisted, inhuman mask.

And his body…

Leo might be a wild animal but Sean McClain was a savage. His long, wiry frame gleamed with a sheen of sweat in the muted light of the office. His chest and belly, legs and thighs, were covered in a generous carpet of black fur. His muscles were sharp, hard, and defined. And his stained jockstrap was on the verge of shredding under the assault of his engorged member. He was both glorious and repellent at the same time, embodying a primitive manhood devoid of any trace of tenderness. Yes, Sean McClain was on fire with the stifling sort of manhood that was little more than brutal, inchoate power.

Mason cupped his bleeding cheek, scrambling backward in alarm, trying to get out of range of that horrible belt. He didn’t succeed, of course. Sean simply took one step and he was towering over Mason once again. He raised the belt over his head, poised to strike.

Mason tried to scoot backward but his back was already against the wall. He cast about frantically, trying to find an avenue of escape, trying to make himself move, trying to make himself remember how to defend himself. It was all for naught, though. He was too timid and Sean was too dominant.

He was a pussyboy, he realized then, finally understanding the full meaning of the word. A pussyboy was passive. A pussyboy didn’t fight back. A pussyboy was obedient. A pussyboy was meant to be used.

A pussyboy.

Yes, he was a pussyboy.

The realization brought him inexplicable comfort despite his dire situation and he could feel his body and brain relax into the identity. Soon, he was wearing it like a second skin even as he knew it to be more than a skin: It was who he was. He almost smiled when he realized this had always been who he was; he just hadn’t known. It wasn’t something that had been inflicted upon him. And it wasn’t something he’d been forced into.

No, it was his birthright.

He was a pussyboy! No wonder it hadn’t worked out with Carly! And no wonder Leo had found him and owned him. It was inevitable. It couldn’t have happened any other way because Mason was a pussyboy.

Leo’s pussyboy.

He smiled, lifting his head at the memory of his beloved sea lion. Remembering Leo helped. Yes, it helped him to remember that, while he might be a pussyboy, he did not belong to Sean McClain. Sean was not his sir. Sean did not own him. Sean could not treat him like this.

Locking eyes with the crazed man, he clenched his jaw while clenching his fist. Sean registered the change in his demeanor and took an inadvertent step backward even as Mason launched himself up onto his feet and rounded on him. Sean recovered quickly, though, and his eyes flared as he lifted the belt, preparing to lash out. 

Mason braced but the blow never landed.

At precisely that moment, he heard a outraged bellow followed by a sharp crash. He turned just in time to see the wall of Sean’s office buckle and begin to cave. He had only a split second to dive under the desk before the wall and part of the roof collapsed around them. Soon, he was staring out from beneath the desk as beams and insulation rained down around the room.

The chaos ended almost as abruptly as it had begun and the room fell silent. Mason was too stunned to move, though, and sat cowering under the desk for a long time before he finally registered the sound of a distant moan. Very carefully, he extricated himself from the desk and emerged into a scene of complete destruction. Sean’s office was unrecognizable; a wide hole yawned in the wall and the night sky was visible through the missing ceiling overhead. Dust and little bits of insulation filtered down as he peered around, trying to figure out what had just happened. What the fuck…?

Something moved in the middle of rubble.

He squinted, eyes trying to decipher what he was seeing.

It was huge, whatever it was.

And covered in dust.

As he stared, it moved again, effortlessly flicking off several beams as if they were no more than matchsticks. Finally free, the thing let out a familiar bark as it raised its great head and looked around.

Mason blinked and cried out in surprise, scrambling over the ruins to throw his arms around the creature’s neck. Leo met him halfway, slamming his great chest into Mason’s as they came together in an exuberant hug.

“Leo!” Mason exclaimed. “You save me again!”

The sea lion planted his big snout against his face right then, preventing him from saying more, but that was alright. He didn’t care. He was where he belonged and he was who he was meant to be. Leo was his sir and he was Leo’s pussyboy. Nothing could ever change that.

***

Chapter 9

Sean McClain suffered serious but ultimately non-life threatening injuries as a result of the collapse of his office and had to be evacuated by seaplane to a hospital in Vancouver. Mason learned several days later that he’d sustained a concussion, several broken ribs, and two fractured vertebrae. While his memory of the events of that night never returned, Sean did eventually make a full recovery.

The same could not be said of his reputation or his marriage, though.

When the authorities arrived on the scene to investigate, Mason was waiting for them and Leo was long gone. He answered their questions truthfully. Well, almost truthfully. He did engage in the sin of omission, neglecting to tell them about the true nature of his relationship with the sea lion and the existence of Sean’s incriminating videos. Instead, he produced Sean’s threatening note and admitted to stealing fish out of his weir to feed the seal. He explained that Sean had tried to blackmail him when Mason had visited him in his office, coercing him into having sex and then becoming violent when Mason resisted. The fact that the man had been pulled out of the wreckage wearing only a dirty jockstrap and still clutching the leather belt helped to corroborate this story. It was also clear that Mason was blameless in the collapse of the building; several eyewitnesses attested to the sea lion’s angry rampage through the harbor.

In the end, the RCMP officers let Mason go without charges. The Wildlife Service, however, was less forgiving. They came down hard on him after interviewing several town folk including his boss, Walt Crichton, about his relationship with the sea lion. While Sean McClain’s weir was illegal, Mason’s behavior had been equally illegal and far riskier. Steller sea lions were a protected species and a dangerous one at that. Treating a wild animal as a pet never ended well and this was a case in point: The sea lion bull had twice attacked people as a result of Mason’s activities. They had no choice but to slap a hefty fine on Mason and kick him off the island. He was given three days to pack up and leave. As a further measure to prevent him from having contact with the beast, they assigned an agent to tail him until he left.

He never saw the sea lion again.

***

It was difficult to tell who was more crushed in the aftermath of Sean and Mason’s nasty confrontation. Both of the Lowery brothers were rendered completely despondent as a result of the loss of their sirs and spent much of the night and the next day holding onto each other and sobbing. 

It was a bittersweet experience for Mason. On the one hand, his heart ached furiously for his beautiful sea lion lover but, on the other, he treasured this unexpected closeness with his brother. Travis was the only person who understood what he was going through…and he understood what Travis was going through as well. Even though Sean McClain had revealed his true, sadistic nature in shocking and humiliating ways, Mason knew that Travis’ experience with the man had been quite different. Oh, there had been plenty of sadism and humiliation involved for sure but Sean had also treated Travis with a measure of kindness. If Mason contemplated it for very long (which he didn’t because it made him squirm), he realized that Sean had been a sort of father figure…with, er, benefits…for his brother in much the same way that Leo had been for him.

Leo.

God, Leo!

How the fuck was he going to survive without his sea lion?

Blinking back tears, he snuggled against Travis’ shoulder and sighed.

“I know, bro,” Travis whispered in response. “It’s killin’ me, too.”

Mason lifted his head. He and Travis were lying together in his bed, curled up against each other under the covers. He had his arms around his brother’s tight, muscular body and was enjoying the gentle rise and fall of his chest against his own. It was an almost sisterly sort of embrace and he had to suppress a giggle in spite of himself.

Travis rolled over and propped his head on his elbow, gazing speculatively back at Mason. His big, brown eyes were red-rimmed but his lips held a faint smile. “Ya know, I’ve been wondering ‘bout something,” he began in a husky voice. 

Mason blinked, startled again by how different Travis looked. In a fit of mourning, he’d shorn his long, brown hair and hadn’t shaved; the combined effect was quite pleasing. Travis, he realized anew, was quite a stud and he felt his little nub tingle in its constrictive cage before he flushed with embarrassment. It wasn’t right to have such feelings about his little brother!

When he didn’t reply, Travis’ eyebrows drew together and his smile deepened. “Uh, Earth to Mason,” he teased. “Earth to Mason. Where are ya, bro?”

Mason’s color deepened. “I’m, uh, I’m, you know.” He stopped and cleared his throat, glad that Travis couldn’t read his mind. “I mean, what were you wondering about, Trav?”

“I was wondering about those videos that Sean took of you and Leo,” Travis continued, the corner of his mouth quirking at his brother’s awkwardness. “Aren’t ya worried he’ll, ya know, still use ‘em against you?”

“Nah, I’m not worried at all.”

Travis’ brow furrowed. “Whaddaya mean? They’re on his phone, aren’t they?”

It was Mason’s turn to smile. “Yep, they’re definitely on his phone.”

“Bro, what the fuck are you hiding?” Travis pressed. “Come on. Tell me!”

In answer, Mason extricated himself from his brother’s embrace and the tangle of covers to pace over to his discarded shorts. He fumbled around in the pockets for a moment before withdrawing something and tossing it over to Travis. His brother let out a little whoop of surprise when he registered what it was: Sean McClain’s iPhone.

“No way!” he exclaimed. “You nicked his iPhone?”

Mason’s smile stretched into a ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ grin as he bragged, “Yep, I pocketed it even before I helped pull him out of the wreckage. You know, your older brother’s no fool.”

“Um, yes, he is,” Travis corrected, holding out the iPhone. “Did you forget that the phone syncs with the cloud? All of his photos and videos are now up on the Apple servers.”

Mason’s face fell and grabbed for the phone but Travis yanked it away from him, holding up his hand and saying, “Hold on! Your younger bro is even less of a fool. I know all of Sean’s passwords. I can get in there and delete everything.”

Slumping down on the bed in relief, Mason sighed, “Jesus, you’re the best, Trav. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fucked,” came Travis’ smug reply. “And kicked out of law school in addition to being kicked off the island.”

Mason gave him a hangdog grin as he watched him swipe his finger across the screen and enter Sean’s passcode. It took him only a few minutes to log in and delete all evidence of the incriminating photos and videos. When he was done, he stood up and handed the iPhone back to Mason, saying, “Now let’s go burn the thing.”

Mason didn’t reply. He was too busy surveying his brother’s naked body. Soon, his little nub was pressing firmly against its cage as he became aroused. “Whoa, Trav,” he began, instinctively pulling the coverlet over his crotch. “You took off your cage.”

Travis looked down at his nakedness and smiled. “Yeah, I broke it open. Sean’s not my sir anymore.”

“You look…um, you look, well,” Mason stammered before finally spitting out, “amazing. Wow.”

It was true. Naked and unshackled, Travis’s rockhard bod was replete with muscles and new, stubbly hair. His uncircumcised cock had recovered somewhat from its captivity and hung down low and long between a sizable pair of balls. His skin was a rich mocha brown, so different from Mason’s own pale complexion. It was hard to believe they were related and Mason felt like the ugly, fat stepsister in comparison.

Travis smiled and waggled his cock provocatively before striding over and settling down on the bed next to Mason, his naked thigh pressed against his own. He slung a companionable arm over his shoulder as he announced, “I’m turning over a new leaf, bro. I’m no longer a pussyboy. I tossed out my panties and got rid of all the girly stuff in my wardrobe. From now on, I’m just Travis Lowery and I don’t belong to anyone.”

Mason looked down at his big belly protruding over his lap, his little nub constricting almost painfully in its cage, and felt suddenly very alone. He wished furiously that he could follow Travis’ example and shed the cage (and his flab) but he couldn’t. His belly, he knew by then, would be with him for the rest of his life. And his cage…

He would not remove his cage.

He’d given himself to Leo and would never break his promise even if he never saw the sea lion again. He didn’t care if it meant that he would spend the rest of his life alone. His heart belonged to Leo and only Leo.

He was Leo’s pussyboy.

***

Travis disappeared that afternoon. At first, they didn’t think much of his absence but both Simone and Mason became worried when he was still missing the next morning. As the day–Mason’s last full day on the island–wore on and he still hadn’t returned, Simone decided to call the authorities. She was disappointed, however, when they informed her that Travis would need to be missing at least 72 hours before they would begin searching for him.

Mason did his best to alleviate her concerns, telling her that Travis was a grown man and could take care of himself. “He’s probably just out on a solo hike or something,” he explained. “After all, he’s off from work indefinitely with Sean in the hospital.”

Simone received this with skepticism but remained silent. Finally, she said, “You’re probably right. I just wish he’d informed me of his plans. The island is small but not that small! He could be anywhere!”

“Aw, he’ll be fine, Grandma,” Mason cajoled. “But if it would make you feel better, let’s go for a hike and see if we can find him.”

His grandmother hesitated for a moment before smiling wanly and agreeing, “Yes, yes, you’re right. That would make me feel better. And it’s a full moon tonight. A nice hike in the woods would put me at ease.”

***

They left the cabin at dusk, wearing headlamps and carrying walking sticks, and headed north on the trail toward the wild end of the island. The night was pleasantly cool and bug-free with a soft breeze rustling through the firs overhead. They hiked for a long time in silence as the moon rose to their right, shedding such abundant light that they didn’t need to use their headlamps.

After a few miles, Simone broke the silence with an unexpected question. “Mason,” she began cryptically, “have you ever wondered what happened to the original inhabitants of the island?”

“You mean the Native American–I mean, the First Nations people?” he clarified.

Simone nodded, pausing to look over toward the western horizon. They were on top of a long, treeless ridge that afforded a spectacular view of the coast and ocean below. Long, wide waves were rolling in off the Pacific. In the distance, they could see the lights of a freighter heading back across the sea to China. The air smelled pine, salt, and fish; it was the signature scent of the island.

“There is a fascinating legend about them, Mason. One that I wish to be true.”

Mason halted beside her, gazing out on the moonlit vista. For some reason, his skin prickled. Was it because of the cool breeze or something else? Shaking himself, he asked, “What is the legend? Tell me.”

“They say that the people of this island walked into the sea rather than be subjected to the rule of the European settlers,” Simone explained. “They say that they disappeared on a night like tonight when the moon was full and the tide was high. They say that their cooking fires were still glowing in the morning when the first settlers arrived on the island and their dwellings were full of their belongings. They had taken nothing with them.”

Mason’s chill deepened and he shivered, murmuring, “Wow, that’s…kinda spooky. Where would they have gone?”

Simone shrugged. “Into the sea. Some say they drowned and others say they…changed.”

“Changed? What do you mean, ‘changed’?”

His grandmother didn’t reply for a long time and, when she did, her words washed over Mason like a wave, leaving him feeling beached and gasping for air.

“They say they became sea lions.”

 It was then that Mason knew that his grandmother had known about him and Leo all along.

***

Chapter 10

November: Three months later in Ann Arbor, Michigan…

That evening, the natatorium was mostly empty and Mason preferred it that way. He chose to swim late at night because he was almost guaranteed to have a lane to himself and he really, really needed the alone time. Between the loss of his brother, Travis, and his beloved sea lion, Leo, he felt destitute. In the three months since both had disappeared from his life, Mason’s grief had only deepened and he was struggling to cope. In a twist of irony, though, this time law school was his savior rather than his nemesis. Some days it was the only thing keeping him sane…along with these late night swims.

Water soothed him even as it reminded him of Leo, the island, and his missing brother. God, he missed all three so much! Swimming was the only time he could really let loose and cry. He would stroke away, pounding the water in frustrated agony as tears poured from his eyes. Tears that were blessedly unseen by anyone around him. 

That was the advantage of crying underwater.

Keeping up with the mountain homework in his classes took up nearly all of his time but, contrary to popular opinion, being distracted didn’t help much. He still needed to grieve and swim-crying was the most efficient use of his limited free time: He could get his exercise and feel his broken heart at the same time.

It was a blessing that this time around law school wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the previous year. He didn’t know why this was exactly. It wasn’t because the program at the University of Michigan was easier. Maybe he was more mature? Maybe the twin effects of discovering his true identity as a pussyboy and dealing with the tragedy of losing his lover and brother at the same time had changed him somehow? It was hard to tell. One thing was clear, though: He was more focused this time and it helped him to find balance in a very demanding schedule.

He made time to work out, resisted binge eating, and scheduled downtime into every day. His grades improved and he felt healthier. And, while he wasn’t losing any weight, at least his waistline had stopped increasing. Sure, at 250 pounds, he was still overweight and had the paunch to prove it but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to…mostly. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his days as a svelte, lean swim jock were over. It might not be the destiny he would have chosen for himself but it was the one staring at him in the face. At a certain point, you just had to shrug and accept it.

He was a big girl and he would remain a big girl for the rest of his life. 

***

A movement caught his eye as he did a flip turn and he pulled up short, bobbing in the water.

“Eh, Mason!” a pleasantly deep voice called out. “You’re swimming hard I see.”

Mason pulled off his foggy swim goggles and looked over to his left. A stunningly gorgeous man was floating in the lane next to him, resting his muscular arms on the lane marker buoy and smiling broadly. He couldn’t resist smiling back even though he wasn’t really in a smiling mood. 

Blond-haired and green-eyed, Jarvi Virtanen was a junior on the men’s swim team. He’d transferred to U of M that fall from Finland and had quickly risen to the top ranks of the team. For reasons that Mason hadn’t quite figured out, the guy was almost always in the pool when he was swimming. Maybe that’s why he’s so good, he thought while soaking in the sight of the handsome guy, he swims practically all day long.

Realizing that Jarvi was still waiting for his reply, he said, “Yeah, I’m feeling pent up tonight.”

“‘Pent up’?” Jarvi queried. “What does this mean?”

Mason mentally kicked himself. He knew that Jarvi didn’t speak English well and yet he almost always seemed to use words the guy didn’t understand. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It means that I have a lot of energy.”

“Energy is good,” Jarvi replied, pushing himself up on the lane marker and displaying his magnificently toned, smooth chest. “I like men with energy.”

Is he flirting with me? Mason wondered, eyes widening slightly. And, if so, why?

The next moment, Jarvi left no doubt of his intentions when he added, “Men with energy and–How do you say it?–curves.”

Whoa. 

Mason coughed, abruptly self-conscious at this unexpected spike in erotic tension between them. It didn’t help that Jarvi underscored his point by winking. Still, he refused to believe such a hot stud would look twice at him and quickly concluded Jarvi was toying with him. Pulling his goggles back down, he was preparing to resume his swim when the guy motioned him over.

“Mason,” he called out. “Wait! You have something on your lip.”

When he hesitated, Jarvi took his arm and pulled him closer, leaning forward and lifting his hand. Then, before Mason knew what was happening, the guy’s hand was behind his head and he was drawing him for a kiss. Jarvi’s luscious lips parted and then his mouth was over Mason’s. When he opened his mouth to protest, the swim jock took full advantage of this opportunity and slipped his tongue inside. Soon, Jarvi was kissing him passionately, his strong arms wrapped protectively around his neck as the lane buoy crushed between their bare chests. Taken aback at first, Mason finally relaxed into the kiss and allowed himself to savor the heat and flavor of Jarvi’s mouth. The young guy tasted of burnt iron and oak, reminding Mason of a potent red wine. It was only the second time in his life he’d been kissed by a man–the first being the teenage boy who assaulted him on the deck of The Ondine–and he realized he liked it. He really liked it!

“There,” the young stud pronounced, releasing Mason and gazing back at him with a very self-satisfied expression, “it’s gone.”

“What’s gone?” Mason gasped dazedly, feeling like his brain was on the verge of overloading with pleasure. The boy had succeeded in doing the impossible: For the first time in more than three months, he wasn’t thinking about Leo or Travis.

“The thing on your lips,” Jarvi replied with a smirk.

“Oof,” Mason groaned, amazed that he’d fallen for such a lame setup. “You’re terrible. Still, I have to admit that was pretty slick.”

Jarvi didn’t miss a beat as he teased, “You know what else is slick?”

Mason laughed, commenting, “I see you’ve been watching your share of bad American porn. You get an A.”

“Only an A?” Jarvi replied in an injured tone. “I think you need to add a ‘plus’ to that for this reason…”

With that, he completely shocked Mason by taking his hand and shoving it down the front of his Speedo. Mason cried out in surprise as his fingers closed around Jarvi’s incredibly fat, long shaft. The guy was so turned on that his cock sprang free of the sheer fabric almost instantly. Mason flushed deep crimson as he realized he was fondling a guy’s erection in public. Yeah, Jarvi’s cock was underwater but it wouldn’t take the casual observer long to realize what was going on.

“Jarvi!” he hissed, looking around in panic. “What the fuck are you doing? Someone could see us!” For reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of, though, he didn’t let go of that huge cock. 

In answer, the young jock pulsed his cock in Mason’s hand, asking pointedly, “What do you think? Do I get an A+ now, Teacher?” The corner of his mouth quirked as he watched the look of ecstasy wash over Mason’s face.

Trying not to pant, Mason couldn’t resist squeezing the humongous organ before jacking it slowly up and down. Jarvi’s pubes were shaved smooth and the skin of his cock was extremely soft and supple. Mason’s hand slid effortlessly over the many, many inches of it before his fingers closed together over the dude’s long, tapering foreskin.

“Ungh.” Jarvi’s eyes rolled back in his head and a look of pure bliss washed over his handsome features. “I have wanted you to do that since I first saw you.”

Mason gave that amazing cock another long, languorous jack, feeling his tiny nub pulse in his chastity cage. So far, he’d resisted the urge to break the cage off and he almost grown used to its relentless pressure. (It had taken him some time but he’d even figured out a way to keep himself clean down there. Swimming helped: The constant flow of water purged buildup and the chlorine probably helped kill bacteria.)

Feeling the pinch of the cage reminded him of Leo, though, and he grew sad, letting go of Jarvi’s cock and pulling away from the lane marker buoy. “Jarvi,” he murmured, unable to meet the jock’s probing gaze, “I-I-I should go. I can’t do this.”

Jarvi stopped him, reaching across the buoy and grabbing him by the shoulders and demanding, “Why? Why, Mason?” Before Mason could reply, though, he answered his own question, sighing, “You have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Mason was beginning to nod when he had second thoughts. Leo was long gone. And even if he could go back and somehow manage to find him, what future could he have with a sea lion? It was utterly ridiculous to hold onto this infatuation with a wild animal. A wild animal who lived mostly in the sea at that! Why the fuck couldn’t he just let go of Leo and move on?

He took a deep breath, fixing Jarvi with an anguished stare. The young jock was so beautiful and his eyes held such tender longing and affection. How could he say no to him? Leo was just a sea lion while Jarvi was a man. A hot-blooded and hung man at that! Maybe it was time? Maybe it was time for him to let go…

He was opening his mouth, preparing to tell Jarvi that he didn’t have a boyfriend, that he was available and that he would love to be with him, when there was a splash at the end of his lane. He looked over and saw that the biggest, tallest, broadest, darkest-skinned man he’d ever seen standing in his lane. He was so tall that the meter-deep water on the shallow end of the pool barely reached his knees. He was so broad that his shoulders were nearly as wide as the lane markers. He was so handsome that the sight of his square, masculine features took Mason’s breath away. And, last but certainly not least, he was so hung that his enormous package was half-revealed as it strained against the pouch of his strange, nut-brown swimsuit. (What is that material? Mason wondered absently. Leather? Is he wearing a leather Speedo?) Unlike Jarvi, this dude did not shave a thing; his thick, black pubes spilled over the base of his beer can cock. 

“Paska!” Jarvi cursed next to him, slapping the water in frustration. “What is he doing here?”

Mason shook himself, only very reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the stupendously beautiful (and hung!) man. “W-W-Who is he?” he stammered, tongue thick in the back of his throat.

“He’s–What is the word?” Jarvi spat. “Asshole? Yes, that is the word. He’s an asshole who just transferred here from somewhere in Canada.”

“He did?” Mason asked. “Is he on the swim team?”

Jarvi pulled a face, reluctantly admitting, “Yes, he is. And he is very good, too. He is the fastest man on the team.”

Mason was awestruck. He couldn’t take his eyes off the magnificent specimen of manhood standing at the far end of his lane. The man appeared oblivious to their presence as he stretched, lifting an elbow to his ear and pulling down on it with his other hand before casually shaking out his long, beefy arms. Mason saw that all eyes in the natatorium were glued onto the big man. Even the lifeguards couldn’t stop looking at him. There was something both magnetic and carnal about him. He was a man out of the legends, a god among mortals.

A very well hung god…

A renewed surge of pressure in his groin brought Mason’s attention back to his body and his locked cocklet. He looked away from the hulking god of a man, embarrassed. Turning to Jarvi apologetically, he said, “Listen, Jarvi. I have to get back to my workout but I want to thank you for the kiss. It was really sweet. Maybe we can follow up on it later…?”

Jarvi had started to frown as he spoke but his face brightened again by the time he finished and he nodded enthusiastically, saying, “Yes! Yes! I would like that very much. You are a very handsome man, Mason.”

I’m handsome! Mason thought, feeling his heart swell. He thinks I’m handsome! 

He favored Jarvi with a radiant smile before diving into the water and resuming his swim. It had been a long time–hmmm, well, make that never–since a man had showed romantic interest in him without humiliating him in the process. When guys noticed him, it was invariably to make fun of his weight or to treat him like a slut. He wasn’t accustomed to a man taking delight in his presence while engaging in erotic banter. He liked it. He really liked it.

For some reason, these thoughts reminded him of Leo and he grew sad once again as he stroked down the lane. Maybe I loved him so much because he treated me like a person and not an object? he wondered. And he showered me with affection without hurting or humiliating me. He was a good man… Wait? A good man? Ha! What am I thinking? He’s a sea lion! I must really need to get laid. He laughed at these crazy thoughts and then coughed as he swallowed water.  

He was so focused on thinking of Leo that he quite forgot about the man in his lane until the guy stroked past him. When he glided by, it was the strangest thing. He turned in the water as he passed Mason and his lean, muscular form grazed against him, sliding down the length of his body. It was so much like a full-body caress that Mason drew to a halt and stared back at him. The man continued down the lane as if nothing had happened. He skimmed effortlessly through the water, body undulating in the most unusual way. Mason had never seen anyone swim like that before except for… He swam just like…

Nah! he thought, catching himself before he completed the thought. No! He’s not swimming like… Not swimming like… He stopped himself again, sternly resisting the direction his thoughts were leading him. He couldn’t go there. This man was not at all like… Stop it, Mason! Forget about it!

He dove back in the water and swam hard, pounding his fists into the water and splashing furiously. No matter how hard he swam, though, he couldn’t go fast enough to outpace the feelings of heartbreak and longing that threatened to pull him down and drown him. Oh, fuck! He missed Leo so badly!

When the strange, big man swam past him again, his long, hard body sliding once more across Mason’s in an indisputably intimate way, Mason had had enough and he paddled down to the end of the lane and got out. He was so worked up that he forgot to wrap his towel around his midsection to cover up his big, hairy belly and the ugly ‘muffin top’ spilling over the waistband of his swimsuit.  (Mason couldn’t quite bring himself to give up wearing a Speedo–He’d been a competitive swimmer for too long to go back to wearing swim trunks!–but that didn’t mean he wasn’t self-conscious about his blobby body. The trek from the locker room across the swim deck to the pool was a perilous journey for his beleaguered ego and he usually did everything he could to hide his embarrassing flab.)

The locker room was blessedly empty when he entered and he padded over to the far end of the showers. The showers presented another challenge for his ego because they were completely open. Worse, there were only pedestal-type showers which meant that he couldn’t hide and rinse off in a corner. This was another reason he liked to swim late at night: Most of the time he had the showers to himself and didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him in all of his ‘glory.’

He looked around, debating whether he should take off his Speedo and risk having someone see him in his chastity cage. Normally, kept his swimsuit on in the shower but that evening he was half tempted to strip naked. He had even lowered his hands to unfasten the drawstring of his suit when he heard the door to the pool deck open and he looked up to see Jarvi stalking inside. The tall Finnish man’s face broke into a broad smile when he spotted Mason and he sauntered nonchalantly over to stand next to him at the showers. Mason swallowed, his body (and little nub) going instantly rigid.

Jarvi, he realized afresh, was so gorgeous that he almost rivaled the other ‘swim god’ stroking away in the pool lane that Mason had just vacated. The big difference was maturity. While the other man embodied fully developed manliness, Jarvi burgeoned with boyish energy. With his rosy cheeks, full lips, and pert nose, he came across as an eager young pup. An eager and horny young pup, that is. Mason had no doubt the young guy could fuck up a storm all night long and then be ready for another round in the morning. The mere thought of this was enough to get Mason riled up.

Jesus! I need to get laid!

Jarvi positioned himself so close that their shoulders touched. Mason was struck by how tall the jock was. He had to be at least three inches taller than him and Mason was nearly six feet three! 

Ungh! He’s two meters of smooth, rippling muscles. I would love to have all of him on top of me…

Seemingly oblivious to Mason’s scrutiny, Jarvi reached down and tugged off his Speedo, kicking it over into a corner of the room. Mason tried not to look but he was only human and couldn’t resist checking out the young stud’s package. When he lowered his gaze, though, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Underneath his Speedo, Jarvi was wearing a greyish brown, leather thong much like the Canadian swimmer’s. Unlike the big man’s, though, Jarvi’s was much briefer and more revealing. It was also patterned differently. The Canadian swimmer’s leather suit had been uniformly dark brown but Jarvi’s was dotted with light grey rings. 

Are these leather suits something that all of the guys on the swim team are wearing now? he wondered. It had been a few years since his own swimming days and he hadn’t kept pace with the trends. If it was a new fad, he was enthusiastically in favor of it!

As unexpected as Jarvi’s spotted thong was, Mason was much more captivated by the beast lurking inside: Jarvi’s massive, shaved cock was stretching out the pouch to the point of near transparency.

Catching Mason’s hungry stare, Jarvi stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and grinned back at him. With a quick flip, he loosed his monster and Mason was left drooling at the dripping behemoth. He’d never seen a cock like it. So huge, so fat, so hard. Were all Finnish guys this hung?

When the jock reached out to move his hand over to take his massive meat, though, Mason recovered enough to realize what they were doing. “Jarvi,” he warned, holding up his hands. “Not in here! Someone could walk in on us!”

Jarvi looked around, shrugging. “I do not see anyone.”

With that, the young guy stepped into the spray of the shower and wrapped his arms around Mason’s waist. Mason’s breath caught in his chest as the stud’s firm body pressed against him and he looked up into those beautifully sensitive, green eyes. His heart melted and he leaned his cheek against Jarvi’s smooth chest, listening to the young man’s soft heartbeat.

Jarvi sighed, drawing Mason more securely against him before sliding his hand inside the back of Mason’s Speedo and kneading his massive butt cheeks. “Mmmm,” he murmured, kissing his ear. “You have the best ass!”

“Ungh.”

Jarvi laughed and slowly lowered Mason’s Speedo in back, releasing his huge globes. They flopped down behind him, heavier and fuller than ever. If anything, his ass and thighs had grown even bigger since leaving the island and he’d had to invest in a tailored wardrobe. Unlike his big belly and love handles, though, Mason wasn’t ashamed of his hefty ass and meaty thighs. Quite the opposite! More than his little, locked dick, they marked him indelibly as a pussyboy and he embraced this part of his identity.

“Mason, I would like to insert my penis into your ass.”

Jarvi’s awkward phrasing struck Mason as funny and he barely stopped himself from snorting with laughter. Instead, though, he lifted his mouth and let Jarvi kiss him, groaning with heady pleasure as the jock’s questing fingers scored his delicate pucker.

“Ah, fuck!” he exhaled, pushing his butt out and moving his legs apart to give Jarvi better access. All worries about being discovered having sex in a public place evaporated as the young Finn’s fingers explored his tender hole.

“So tight! This is your first time, yes?”

Mason nodded, face still pressed against Jarvi’s chest.

“I will be gentle,” the young jock assured him. “My penis is very big and I do not wish to hurt you.”

Mason lifted his head, saying, “I trust you.”

Jarvi flashed a brilliant smile and slowly sank downward, rolling Mason’s Speedo down his thighs. He stopped in confusion, though, when his face was level with Mason’s crotch. “Eh, Mason!” he called out. “What has happened to you?”

Mason looked down in consternation. In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten about his chastity cage. Shit! How was he going to explain that to Jarvi?

“I, um, well, I,” he stammered before finally managing to spit out, “I locked up my penis, Jarvi. It’s in a cage.”

Jarvi snorted. “I can see that. I meant what happened to your skin?”

“My skin?” Mason asked, thinking for a moment that Jarvi was talking about his foreskin. “My foreskin is fine. It’s just locked up with the rest of my penis.”

In response, Jarvi did the strangest thing. Straightening very slowly to look Mason in the eye, he sniffed the air delicately. Then, quite inexplicably, he leaned in an licked Mason’s neck before pulling back in confusion. His adam’s apple worked up and down for a few moments as he struggled to find words. Finally, he pronounced, “You smell and taste like us but you have no skin!”

“No skin?” Mason repeated. “I don’t know what you mean. I have plenty of skin!”

Jarvi shook his head and was opening his mouth to respond when a deep voice behind them rumbled, “He is one of us, Jarvi. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

They spun around to find the huge Canadian swimmer towering behind them. He was, Mason realized, even more magnificent up close than far away. His deep, dark eyes were almond-shaped, making him appear Asian (or maybe even Siberian?) but his face was too craggy and he was too dark-skinned. And–Jesus!–was he ever big! Mason had never seen a man that tall! He made Jarvi look tiny in comparison. 

All of that was quite enough but there was something more, something almost ineffable about the man. As overwhelmed as he was, it took Mason’s poor brain a while to figure it out. Was it the way he moved? No, it wasn’t quite that. What was it? Ah, yes. Now he got it.

Now he understood.

Mason shivered. Even standing still, the man radiated such raw and potent authority that he was sorely tempted to sink to his knees in obeisance. This man was a true alpha. A pack leader. A man among men. A man to be respected and obeyed without question.

He was dominant.

And Mason was submissive.

A switch flipped inside his brain just then and he felt much the same as when he realized he was a pussyboy. Everything suddenly became clear and he knew what he had to do. He gave up resisting and lowered himself to his knees, bowing his head and holding his hands out, palms upward, in supplication. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to desire to serve selflessly. To give himself fully and completely. To let go of his right to self-determination and be used.

A moment later, Jarvi followed suit beside him. Hanging his head, he sighed and knelt down before the great man. His body was shaking with the effort and Mason knew that this act of submission did not come easily to Jarvi. The swim jock was not someone who naturally gave in and Mason understood why the boy had reacted so negatively when the man appeared on the pool deck. Jarvi wanted badly to be dominant but he was no match for the alpha stud before them. They didn’t need to brawl or contend, though. It was already obvious who was on top.

They had only just barely begun to kneel, the warm spray from the shower raining down on their naked backs, when the man urged them up again.

“Stop it, guys!” he ordered. “What are you doing?”

Mason lifted his head, flushing when he met the man’s soft, brown eyes. He was looking down at him with such sweetness, such exquisite tenderness that it made his heart twist in his chest. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he knew that he’d met this guy before.

Jarvi scrambled awkwardly to his feet before holding a hand out to Mason and heaving him upward. He wouldn’t look at the man as he muttered, “You know what we were doing, Sir.”

“Sir?” the man repeated. He had a strange accent, Mason realized then, biting off his words in short, sharp bursts. “Jarvi, we left that all behind when we turned our backs on our home. We are only men now.”

Inwardly, Mason reacted with confusion to these words but the man turned to him before he could form a question, demanding, “And, you! I can’t turn my back on you for a second without you getting into trouble!” He crossed his broad arms and glowered down at Mason with mock indignation before his face cracked into a broad smile. “At least this time I didn’t have to break down the walls to rescue you.”

What the fuck is he talking about? Mason wondered, skin prickling. Rescue me?

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” the man continued, taking a step closer and placing his huge hands on Mason’s shoulders. “You are pretty fucking irresistible.”

A frisson of pleasure pulsed through Mason’s body with these words (and with that touch) and he felt his little nub spasm painfully in its cage. “W-W-Who are you?” he stammered even as the answer rose up from the depths of his psyche like the ghost of a mariner from his watery grave. He didn’t know whether to feel aroused or terrified.

The man’s smile deepened as his mouth quirked. “You already know, my friend,” he grunted in that sexy, resonant tone. “Or should I say my plump, little cow?”

***

Chapter 11

“Leo?”

The man nodded, his smile fading and face growing solemn. “Mason.”

The sound of his name sent a tremor through his body and Mason was glad that the man was still holding him by the shoulders or he would have crumpled. He searched the big man’s face, heart pounding and the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Could he possibly be…?

Yes.

The depthless eyes were the same.

There was a scar over his right eye in the same pattern as the wound Mason had stitched up on the sea lion’s face so many months before in the harbor.

And around his neck…

…he was wearing a leather string with something dangling on its end.

A silver key.

It was the key to Mason’s chastity cage.

He had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Throat tightening, he croaked, “But…how?”

The man’s lips curved upward in a half smile. “It’s easier to show you than to explain.” With that, he bent over and pulled down his funny leather Speedo before straightening again and kicking it off into his hand. He held it out to Mason, saying, “Here. Put it on.”

Honestly, Mason wasn’t paying attention to the leather swimsuit dangling from the man’s fingers. His gaze was locked instead onto something much larger, fatter, and longer dangling between the man’s hairy thighs. The swimmer’s liberated schlong was flopping back and forth not far below eye level thanks to his enormous height. It was truly huge, surpassing anything that Mason had ever seen on a man. In the back of his mind, he realized he’d seen this giant appendage before…only back then it had been attached to a sea lion (and it had been pink, not dark umber. Jesus, but the guy’s cock was the most beautiful shade of black!) Beneath this masterpiece hung an enormous pair of balls encased in a loose, dark-skinned nutsac that could’ve held a week’s worth of groceries.

Mason’s mouth fell open and his little nub tightened once again in its cage. He shook himself and was reaching out to accept the proffered suit when Jarvi interrupted them, shouting, “Stop! Don’t do it! You’ll forget everything!”

The man looked over to the distraught Finn, shaking his head slowly. “No, Jarvi. You’re wrong. I don’t need my skin to know who I am.”

Jarvi’s closed his mouth, lips sealing in a tight line. It was clear from his demeanor that he was unconvinced. Unconvinced and…angry. Mason reluctantly tore his eyes off of the man’s huge cock long enough to observe the jock. He blinked, feeling Jarvi’s mood wash over him like a bitter wave. The young guy’s arms were crossed and his eyes smoldered with unconcealed jealousy. Somewhat incongruously, though, he was still very turned on; his leather thong pushed down around his muscular thighs and his big, shaved cock pointing rigidly up toward the ceiling. Mason couldn’t help noticing that Jarvi’s endowment wasn’t nearly as impressive as it had seemed a few moments ago now that he was standing next to the immense, godlike man.

The big man turned away from Jarvi in a clear dismissal and the smaller jock scowled, drawing his shoulders upward and clenching his fists. Mason, however, barely noticed; he was held in the thrall of this mysterious stranger who claimed to be his sea lion.

“Put it on,” the man ordered, shaking the leather suit again.

Obediently–He was a pussyboy, after all!–Mason stepped out of his own Speedo before reaching out to take it. The suit felt warm to the touch, almost like it was alive. When he bent over and threaded his foot through the leg hole, he shivered. The leather clung to his skin, sliding over it in a sensuous manner. As he tugged it over his bulging thighs, it stretched to accommodate his size. When he lifted it over his big ass cheeks, the man reached out and took hold of his elbow.

He was just in time, too.

As soon the strangely warm and resilient material settled over his buttocks, Mason felt a sudden, almost painful jolt and his legs gave out. He would have toppled if not for that steadying hand. His vision fogged and he exhaled in a low moan.

***

He was naked and cold, standing on a rocky ledge. Waves washed over his feet. His heart was heavy in his chest. A tear trickled down his cheek. He stared out at the ocean before turning back to the island behind him. Its rocky shoreline gave way to mist-enshrouded firs. Far off, he could see the craggy ridge that was the isle’s backbone glistening in the distant, watery sunlight. This was his home. He never wanted to leave.

And yet he–and everyone else in his clan–would leave the next day.

His people had decided; they would leave the island in the morning, heading north in the hope of finding another, more isolated island. This one had been discovered. Soon, the strange, pale men would be here. Soon, they would take over. Soon, his people would die or…worse. They had seen it happen to the neighboring clans, had known their time was limited. Still, they had hoped. They had hoped the invaders would stop and turn back or at least ignore them.

They had been wrong.

Sniffling back more tears, he wiped the back of his hand across his face. Gulls sailed overhead, their mournful calls echoing his inner desolation. The air smelled of salt and fish and kelp. Distantly, he heard barking from a colony of sea lions down the shore. It should have reassured him but it didn’t. He knew that only a year ago there had been so many more sea lions. Now there were almost none. The pale men hunted them along with the sea otters. Every year, there were fewer. Soon, there would be none.

‘Brother.’

He jumped, startled by the voice in his head. Looking around wildly, he was alarmed to find a huge bull sea lion had crept up out of the sea to sit before him on the rocky ledge, barely an arm’s length away. 

‘Brother,’ the huge creature repeated, deep voice resonating inside the boy’s mind. ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.’

“Help me?” the boy squeaked, still unable to believe that a sea lion would speak to him, much less offer assistance. Sea lion bulls were dangerous; everyone knew that. And, if this were a god wearing a sea lion’s skin…well, that was even worse.

‘Yes, help,’ the bull replied, nodding its great head. It was so enormous that its face was level the boy’s own. It was staring at him with big, brown eyes in the most disconcerting way. ‘I wish to offer you a deal on behalf of my people.’

The boy’s heart began to pound. He knew then that he was definitely in the presence of a god. According to all the tales, the gods were not to be trusted. They were fickle tricksters. Seeing one was very bad luck. Talking to one was the easiest way to bring a curse down upon yourself and your clan.

The sea lion exhaled impatiently in the boy’s face. It’s hot breath was redolent with salmon. The boy winced.

‘You are afraid,’ the beast god observed. ‘Don’t be. I seek the same thing that you do: A way to survive the invaders. My people are weak and being slaughtered. They will not survive unless we ally with you.’ When the boy hesitated, he added, ‘The same is true of you; your people are in danger and will not survive without aid. I am offering you that aid.’

Feeling his body break out in gooseflesh, the boy fought the urge to flee. He was about to give in when the sea lion moved closer. It was so close that the boy could feel the heat radiating off its huge body. The beast’s warmth was soothing and…inviting.

‘You are cold,’ the god murmured. ‘Come to me. Warm yourself.’

Knowing that he shouldn’t, knowing that he was endangering himself by doing so, knowing that he would probably regret his actions, the boy moved closer. Reaching out shaking arms, he folded himself against the great creature’s body, hugging its bull neck and laying his cheek against that toothy snout. A contented moan emanated from deep within the beast’s body. Despite himself, the boy smiled.

‘I offer you this. All of this,’ the god whispered in his mind. ‘I offer you my body. You will have all that I have.’

‘And in return?’ the boy asked. He might be under the god’s sway but he hadn’t taken leave of all of his senses. He knew that gods never gave anything away for free.

The bull laughed, an incongruous sound coming from such a beast. ‘In return,’ it rumbled, ‘you will help my people. Together, we will outsmart the pale invaders. Together, we will avoid their sharp sticks and blunt clubs. Together, we will survive.’

The boy thought about this as he soaked in the bull’s luxurious body heat. He knew he had probably been bewitched but didn’t care. What the god offered was wildly implausible but it also made sense. The sea lion clan was powerful and strong and the human clan was smart and resourceful. Combined, they might just stand a chance…

The bull nuzzled his ear and he smiled, the last vestiges of his fear and trepidation disappearing like mist in sunlight. He asked, ‘What do I need to do?’

‘Go back and tell your people to come to the sea tonight when the full moon is at its zenith,’ the god beast instructed. ‘I will take care of the rest.’ 

A wild hope kindled inside his chest where just moments ago there had only been despair. The boy nodded and stepped back, preparing to depart. Before he could go, though, the sea lion god commanded, ‘Stop. I did not give you permission to leave yet.’

The boy halted, bewildered and suddenly fearful. What more could the god want with him?

Very slowly, the sea lion’s gaze slid down the boy’s body, its eyes lingering on every curve, every ridge, and every…bump. As the boy’s skin prickled with premonition, those brown, depthless eyes alit on his crotch and something sparked inside them. Something carnal. Something hungry.

‘You forgot the offering,’ the sea lion god reminded him, licking its chops as its eyes locked onto the boy’s cock. ‘We gods demand an offering.’

The boy froze. Around him, the world grew quiet. He stood there, holding his breath for the longest time until he became aware of something…a growing warmth and a telltale firmness. Shoulders flushing, he looked down and saw that, against his will, his cock was beginning to stand up. As he stared, his foreskin parted and his delicate, pink cockhead emerged from within the soft folds of dark skin.

‘Don’t move,’ the god ordered, tongue lolling out of his mouth. ‘Stay just like that…’

***

Mason exhaled in wonder. The vision had been so real. So vivid. So…

“You see,” a deep voice commented drily, “we owe our existence to a young guy and a horny sea lion. Kinda like you and me.”

He looked around in confusion and realized he was still standing on that rocky outcropping, the surf rushing over his bare feet. He was still naked; well, almost naked; the mysterious suit clung to his crotch like a second skin. And he was not alone. The sea lion was sitting before him. This time, however, he recognized it immediately.

Leo.

He cried out, diving forward to wrap his arms around his beloved animal’s neck…

…and found himself wrapped in a huge man’s embrace.

“Mason,” the big man murmured, pressing his bearded face against his own and lifting him off the rock to twirl him around triumphantly. “How I’ve longed for hands to hold you!”

Mason didn’t realize it but tears were streaming down his face. He sobbed when the man turned his head and kissed him, finally setting him back down on the rocks and stepping back to survey his prize. Mason stood there, resisting the urge to cover himself. After a long moment, Leo lifted his giant hand to run his fingers over Mason’s cheek. “Don’t cry, my beautiful cow. There’s no need for tears. We are together again.”

“I’m just happy,” Mason sniffed, overwhelmed. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“No,” the man–Leo! Mason corrected himself for he knew then that, as improbable as it was, the huge man was definitely his sea lion–said, shaking his head. “We were only apart, not lost.”

Feeling like his heart was going to burst, Mason threw his arms around Leo’s muscular waist, hugging him tightly…and was rewarded a moment later when he felt an unmistakable swelling press insistently against his chest.

“Come,” Leo murmured, extricating himself from Mason’s embrace and taking a step backward. “Let me free you from that cage.”

Mason’s attention was once again captivated by the man’s amazing cock. As he stared, Leo’s stupendously huge cockhead rose like a sea monster from its furry nest and Mason was barely aware of anything else. He didn’t snap out of it until Leo lifted the necklace from his neck and leaned down to pull back the front of Mason’s borrowed suit, revealing the chastity cage securing his cock and balls. There was an audible click and then Mason exhaled in relief as he felt the cool, salt air caress his tender bits. He was free!

“And now let’s get down to business,” Leo announced, tossing the cage aside. “There is a certain ass I’ve been dying to fuck…”

With that, he hoisted Mason up onto his hips. Mason let out a loud whoop of delight and twined his legs around Leo’s midsection, waiting for the huge man to pull down his suit in back and guide that amazing, delectable, enormous cock up, up, up–

It didn’t happen.

Just as Leo was sliding his hands down Mason’s back to gently fold down the leather swimsuit, he tensed. A shudder ran through his body and he moaned, “Ungh! Oh, fuck! JARVI! Ungh! STOP!”

Mason blinked and the oceanscape faded around them and they were back in the shower room of the natatorium. The cloyingly humid air felt jarring after the brisk cool of that imaginary ocean breeze. He legs were still twined around Leo’s firm waist but the big man’s face was contorted into a grimace and his body was tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic cadence. Out of sight behind and beneath him, Mason could hear slurping and sucking sounds over the spray of the showers. It didn’t take him long to figure out what Jarvi was up to down there.

“JARVI!” Leo shouted again before his voice broke off in a low moan. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he gasped. “You don’t–Ooooooooh!–know what you’re–Ahhhhhhh!–doing!”

There was a loud slurp signaling that Jarvi had pulled Leo’s big cock out of his mouth. “Shut up!” he snapped. “You took my cow. Now I take your cock!”

Leo let out an inarticulate grunt. When he managed to speak, his voice was pleading, “Jarvi, please! Stop before it’s too late! Don’t do this to yourself!”

“Piss off,” Jarvi spat and then Mason felt Leo’s torso tense again as the Finn went back to sucking that huge cock. 

Soon Leo’s whole body was vibrating with pleasure as the rude slurping and sucking sounds built to a noisy denouement. Mason watched his lover’s eyes roll back as Leo threw back his head and groaned, “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”

When he came, Leo nearly dropped him. Mason clung to the huge man’s chest as his hips bucked wildly forward. There was a loud splattering sound and Mason knew from previous experience that the sea lion man had just christened Jarvi and half the shower room with his copious seed. Somehow, though, Leo had the presence of mind to cup Mason’s buttocks in his hands as he sagged down onto the floor. He lay back in slow motion, hauling Mason along with him until he was perched atop, legs straddling that magnificently furry torso. 

Mason waited patiently while Leo gasped for air underneath him. After a while, his chest stopped heaving and his breathing slowed. He opened his eyes and gave Mason an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I was saving that for you.”

Mason chuckled, feeling magnanimous now that the impossible had happened and his sea lion lover was back–and, in a new and improved form! “That’s Ok,” he soothed. “Your plump, little cow isn’t going anywhere. I’ve always belonged to you and only you.”

Leo reached up and took Mason’s face in his hands, studying him. His almond-shaped eyes crinkled into a smile and a tear slid down his cheek. Before he could say anything, though, he was interrupted by a low moan behind them.

“W-w-w-w-what d-d-d-did you do to me?”

It was Jarvi. His voice sounded weak, pathetic. Like a forlorn little kid. If he expected sympanthy from Leo, however, he was sorely disappointed. Leo clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, admonishing, “You did a really stupid thing, Jarvi. Why didn’t you stop when I told you?”

“I-I-I-I don’t know! I was angry and I forgot!”

Mason’s forehead wrinkled in confusion; he had no idea what they were talking about. “Forgot what?” he asked.

Leo sighed loudly before explaining, “I’m a bull, Mason, even when I’m in this form. And my…semen…does things to you. Remember how your penis used to be longer and your butt was smaller?”

Mason nodded, skin prickling with unease. He cringed at what his lover said next.

“My cum did that to you,” Leo admitted, lifting his palm to cup his cheek. “That’s how I made you my cow.”

 “Y-Y-You can do that?” Mason stammered. “But that’s impossible!”

In answer, Leo fixed him with those fathomless brown eyes. He didn’t need to speak because Mason already knew that he was telling the truth. His cock had been longer–nearly eight inches longer!–before he’d inadvertently swallowed the sea lion’s milky jizz. And then there was the mysterious way his ass had grown…and grown and grown. He looked down, embarrassed and ashamed. When Leo lifted his head to plant a kiss on his mouth, though, Mason only hesitated a moment before reciprocating. How could he be angry with Leo when he was the sexiest man on earth? And his lips! God, his lips were divine! 

He was lost in delirious pleasure, tasting those luscious lips with the tip of his tongue, when Jarvi interrupted them again, whining, “Ow! It hurts! It is hurting me!”

Leo groaned and pulled back, flashing Mason an apologetic look as he propped himself up on his elbows. Mason sat up and together they looked back to find Jarvi sprawled out on the floor behind them. The floor (and most of Jarvi’s body) was slathered with Leo’s potent spew. Lying half in the spray of the shower, Jarvi was jacking himself furiously as cum rocketed out of his pulsing cock. Inexplicably, though, tears were rolling down the young stud’s cheeks and his eyes were locked onto his cock, round with horror.

It took Mason a few seconds to understand why the poor guy was so upset. When he did, his whole body went cold. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t there anything we can do for him?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Leo replied in a weary tone, clearly unmoved by Jarvi’s plight. “The same can’t be said of his cock, though.”

“Leo!” Mason scolded. “Make it stop! If he keeps going like this, it’s gonna disappear!”

It was true. Each time Jarvi’s body convulsed with orgasm and cum spurted out of his cock, it shrank a little bit in his hand. Already, the Finn’s magnificent appendage was well short of its former glory and Mason guessed it now measured less than eight inches long. Fuck! he thought. What a waste of a footlong dong!

Another pulse and Jarvi’s cock shrank another inch. It also lost some girth. Mason’s eyebrows shot upward when he noticed the Finn’s generous nutsac was contracting around his formerly hefty pair of lowhangers. No longer. They were barely average-sized now.

Jarvi gave him a pleading look, face contorted with such agony that it made Mason’s heart twist. He turned back to Leo, begging, “Please, Leo! Make it stop. This is cruel!”

The corner of Leo’s mouth lifted. “I tried to warn him but he didn’t listen. It’s not like he didn’t know this would happen. He is a skin-brother after all.”

Mason was about to object when he stopped. “A ‘skin-brother’?” he asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s who I am,” Leo replied, reaching out to pull him back down on top of him. “And it’s who you are, too.”

Leo’s touch made Mason forgot all about Jarvi’s pitiful affliction. In the blink of an eye, it was as if Jarvi had never existed and he lost himself in the big man’s embrace. He snuggled into Leo’s broad, hairy chest, his whole body suffused with well being. He felt like he could die of happiness. “I am skin-brother, too?” he sighed, relishing Leo’s warmth and size. “But how?”

“Your grandsire was one of us,” came the surprising answer. “Simone lured him out of the sea years ago much like you did to me.”

Mason gave a start. “WHAT?!”

Leo ignored him and instead smiled lazily, lowering his hands to cup Mason’s bountiful buttocks. “Mmmmmm, yes,” he sighed. “Now there’s an ass big enough to take all of me!”

“Leo…”

“What?” the beautiful man teased. “Tell me you don’t want me inside you.” He underscored his point by pulling down Mason’s skin suit and guiding his enormous blunt cockhead into the deep cleft of his buttocks. Mason tensed as his cheeks made way for that stupendously oversized organ.

Behind them, Jarvi sobbed loudly. His cock, Mason guessed, must now be shorter than the width of his palm and barely as thick as a pencil. And getting smaller all the time.

He didn’t care, though.

He would have time later to commiserate with the poor, cursed swim jock.

Right now, all he cared about was taking Leo inside him.

All the way inside.

***

Leo left his hole gaping and in agony but what an exquisite torture it was! Oh, he began gently enough, taking his time as he coaxed open Mason’s tight pucker with a thick finger. His precum did double duty as a surprisingly effective lubricant and soon Mason was slicked up and opened up enough to take the first inch or two of Leo’s schlong. In that instant, though, all pretext of tenderness evaporated as the gentle man transformed into a rampaging bull. Soon he was tearing into Mason with a savage ferocity that left his pelvic floor permanently rearranged. 

By ripping into Mason in such a way, he accomplished twin goals: He ensured both that Mason would never again have trouble accommodating his king-sized cock and that Mason would never again be tempted to stray from his side. How you ask? He left him with a yawning abyss for a hole that was so vacuous only one man’s cock could possibly fill it: Leo’s. There was no need to use a chastity cage or any other device; Mason couldn’t cheat even if he wanted to! As a result of that first, transcendent fucking, he could rest assured that Mason would always be true to him and only him. Honestly, though, he needn’t have worried; Mason was so in love with him that he barely noticed other men.

He was Leo’s plump, little, stretched-out cow.

 ***

Leo might rut like a wild animal but he didn’t forget about Mason’s pleasure. He kept a finger on his little nub the whole time, tickling and tempting and teasing him in perfect timing with his barbaric thrusts. Soon, Mason’s head was swimming with heady ecstasy that overwhelmed the pain from being split open by that huge cock. When he finally came, Leo’s guttural roars of elation provided the perfect harmony to his screams of passion. It was a union out of legends, a coming together of flesh kept separate for far too long. Mason’s heart bloomed with fresh and bountiful love as he gazed into Leo’s eyes, feeling his lover’s cock filling up from within.

They lay locked together for a long time on the shower room floor with Leo nibbling Mason’s neck as he whispered lovingly. Only gradually did they realize where they were and what time it was. The natatorium would be closing soon and a janitor would come by at any minute to clean the locker room. Reluctantly, Leo separated and Mason winced with pain and regret as that amazing appendage slid out of his hole. He felt so empty and alone!

“Awww, don’t make that face!” Leo cajoled, leaning down to offer Mason his hand. “We’ll do it again and again and again and again…after you take me home with you. I hope you didn’t have other plans for tonight!”

Mason laughed and was about to respond when he spotted Jarvi out of the corner of his eye. He’d completely forgotten about the swim jock in the fervor of sex! Rubbing his aching ass thoughtfully, he turned toward him and frowned. The poor thing was curled up in a corner of the showers with his knees pulled protectively up to his chest. He was staring daggers at Leo, lower lip thrust outward in a pronounced pout.

He looks younger, Mason thought, skin prickling. And thinner. Has he lost muscle, too?

Leo followed his gaze and, sighing through his nose, padded over to Jarvi, lifting him up by the shoulders. The young guy resisted at first but then relented, rising to his feet on legs that were markedly thinner than before. He had to struggle to his keep his balance and would have fallen if Leo hadn’t caught him by the elbow. Jarvi shook off Leo’s aid and teetered away, stopping to tug the strange, leather thong up his thighs and over his crotch. He wasn’t quite fast enough, though; Mason winced inwardly when he saw what had become of the jock’s formerly glorious piece. He shook his head sadly: Never again would Jarvi be accused of being hung. He now had a decidedly boy-sized cock and a nonexistent pair of balls. And his shaved body and smooth crotch only accentuated this boyishness.

Mason studied him closely, deciding finally that Leo had done the boy a favor.  Sure, he was gangling and gawky like an awkward teenager but he possessed a certain nubile sexiness. He was like a tantalizingly fresh peach at the peak of juiciness. His green eyes looked even bigger in his round face and his skin seemed even rosier. With his upturned nose, mop of blond hair and delicate cleft chin, he was quite the seductive minx. He might be angry now, Mason thought, but it won’t take him long before he realizes Leo has given him a gift.

This was confirmed a moment later when Jarvi turned his back to them and displayed his stunning, new bubble butt. Mason gaped. He’d never seen a fuller, perkier, more perfect ass and couldn’t help feeling a stab of envy. Jarvi’s delicious globes jiggled and swayed alluringly with the boy’s slightest movement. And the way those cheeks enveloped the string of his leather thong was just shy of obscene…

Ungh.

It almost made Mason wish his own cock was longer than one inch. What would it feel like to fuck that…? He shook himself before finishing the thought. He would never know what it was like and he didn’t really care that much. As long as Leo’s long, fat cock was nearby, he and his gaping hole were content with their lot in life.

The boy’s delicious globes didn’t escape Leo’s notice, either. When Mason caught him staring, he flushed and shot him a wry look, musing, “Whaddaya think, my beautiful cow? You ready to welcome a pup into our family?”

***

Epilogue

Mason flew back to the island in August of the following year. Worried that he would be recognized and reported to the Canadian Wildlife Service (he’d been banned from the island for life after all), he’d grown out his beard and wore sunglasses and a baseball cap. He doubted the Wildlife Service was still tracking him but didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his trip.

He was in luck. His grandmother, Simone, met him at the docks and whisked him away before he was spotted. Soon they were jostling and jolting over the rugged hills in her ancient Willys Jeep, heading to her cabin. He smiled fondly over at her from the passenger seat and she turned, face breaking into an uncharacteristically radiant smile. Their moods were considerably lighter than one year ago when both had been stricken with grief at Travis’ disappearance.

“You’re sure he’ll be there tonight?” he asked, feeling a little stab of worry.

Simone nodded. “Yes, Mason. He’ll be there. It’s the last full moon of the summer after all. Do you really think he’d miss the chance to see you again?”

Mason looked down. He knew his grandmother was right but that didn’t prevent him from worrying. It had been so long! He couldn’t wait a moment longer.

Simone took note of his anxious mood and reached over to place a cool hand on his arm (and then promptly removed it again to grab the steering wheel when the jeep pitched violently to the left.) “Mason,” she soothed. “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”

He smiled wanly, noticing for the first time how good she looked. Dressed in fashionable outdoor gear, she had tied back her shoulder-length grey hair and donned a scarf and sunglasses. She looked, he realized, like a glamorous French movie star and he told her so.

“Ah, merci, mon petit chou,” she joked, flipping her wrist flamboyantly. “I am getting ready to leave for Paris again in a couple of weeks. This will be my final show before I retire, you know.”

Mason gave a start. The thought of his grandmother retiring had never occurred to him. “What? No way!” he protested. “You can’t!”

Simone pulled a face, chiding, “Mason, never tell a lady what she may or may not do.”

He grimaced, muttering, “Sorry. I mean, I just never thought you’d walk away from–”

“I’m not ‘walking away’ from anything,” she stated, somewhat coldly, before brightening again and adding, “I have sold the business to my assistant in Milan and she will carry on the tradition of my designs. Besides, I’m nearly seventy-five years old. I want to enjoy my golden years without working constantly.”

Nodding, he kept quiet. He didn’t like the thought of his grandmother giving up on anything. He’d taken her creativity and boundless energy as a constant. Now that he looked at her–really looked at her–he saw that she was right. Beneath her tastefully-applied makeup, he could see the subtle signs of aging. The skin on her neck was sagging and the veins on her hands were much more pronounced than her remembered. Yes, Simone was in great shape for a woman her age but she was clearly no longer young.

This led to another unpleasant thought. If she was planning to retire, how much longer would she stay on the island? Getting around on the rugged and remote isle was not easy even for him and he was only twenty-five years old. Was she also thinking about leaving her cabin behind?

“Grandma,” he began tentatively. “Does this mean…?”

“No,” Simone answered, shaking her head as she correctly guessed his question. “I’m not ready to leave the island yet, Mason, at least not permanently. I am planning to spend the winter in my chateau in Provence, though.”

A chateau in Provence? he thought, taken aback. I didn’t even know she had one! The fashion business must be quite lucrative!

Before he could react to this announcement, though, Simone changed the subject. “Mason,” she said, looking over at him critically. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for my behavior last summer when you first arrived on the island.”

He blinked, mind racing to remember what she might have done to offend him last year and came up blank.

“The first time I saw you after you became…” her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right word before finally settling on, “plump.”  

He winced, partly out of Simone’s awkward phrasing and partly because it came so close Leo’s pet name for him. He glanced down at his big belly, uncomfortably aware that it had grown much larger over the intervening months due to Leo’s encouragement. (Leo liked his ‘cows’ to be plump.) He cleared his throat and felt heat creeping up his neck.

Oblivious to his discomfort, Simone continued, “I realize now that my profession has made me even more predisposed to judge people based on their weight but you look good, Mason. In fact, I would even say you’re glowing.”

Mason flushed a deeper shade of red. “Uh, yeah,” he murmured, still looking down at his belly as it jiggled with the pitching of the jeep. “I feel good about myself. And I’m happy. Really happy.”

Simone favored him with an affectionate smile. “I’m glad, Sweetheart. You deserve to be happy. You’ve earned it.”

***

“Mason,” Simone announced when they pulled up to her cabin. “There is someone I want you to meet.” She motioned with her head toward the cabin, adding, “He’s been waiting to meet you since last year, you know.”

Mason turned to her, face splitting into a wide smile. “I knew it!” he shouted. “I knew he would come back to you!”

Simone didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. One glance at her expression told him everything he needed to know and he leaped out of the jeep and hurtled up the front steps, all but busting down the door in his eagerness to meet his grandfather for the first time in his life.

***

Mason made his way by himself down to the sheltered cove below Simone’s cabin that evening. His grandmother–nestled on the couch next to her long lost lover–watched him go with a small smile on her face, saying, “Give him our love, will you?” 

Mason smiled as he looked back at the two of them. He still couldn’t believe the giant, dark-skinned man seated next to her was really his grandfather. And yet as he clearly was. He looked so much like an older version of Travis that it was almost creepy. (He also bore more than a passing resemblance to Mason, especially in the eyes.) The man, K’al, looked back at him, his dark eyes fathomless and full of knowing. He didn’t speak but his gaze conveyed a warmth and tenderness beyond words. Mason nodded back at him and his grandmother before swinging the door closed behind him. He couldn’t wait to get back to the ocean!

His pulse was racing by the time he got to the beach but it wasn’t because he was out of breath. Quite the contrary! Mason might have packed on more than fifty pounds since Leo’s miraculous reappearance nine months ago but he wasn’t out of shape. He’d continued swimming, often miles a day, and was now in the best shape of his life.

A thin thread of smoke rose from a fire on the beach, hanging suspended in the unnaturally windless air. He halted at the edge of the forest and smiled to himself when he spotted two familiar figures standing around the fire. There was a giant one with broad shoulders, long legs, and a tapering waist that could only be Leo. Next to him was Jarvi’s shorter, squatter, pear-shaped form. (The young Finn had grown nearly as plump as Mason under Leo’s encouragement. His broad, lean swimmer’s build was now a thing of the distant past, along with his once massive cock.) Mason broke into a slow trot, savoring the scent of the sea and the quiet beauty of the sheltered cove. The setting sun tinged the rocks, sand, and water a luminous orange as gulls flew up squawking around him.

Leo jumped to his feet as soon as he spotted Mason, taking him into his great arms and twirling him about in a great arc before depositing him once again in the sand. “Ah, my plump, little cow,” he rumbled, “you get sexier every time I see you!” He paused and Mason flushed, looking demurely downward as Leo reached out to unbutton his shorts, murmuring, “‘Course, you’ll look even sexier when you’re naked.”

“Leo…” Mason warned as his shorts slipped down around his ankles, followed soon by his boxers.

“What?” the sexy beast inquired innocently as he shimmied out of his own funny, leather Speedo-like suit. “You won’t be completely naked after you put my skin suit back on.”

Mason allowed Leo to pull off his sweatshirt before accepting the proffered suit and stepping into it. It was the weirdest thing; as often as he put it on, it never failed to surprise him how it morphed from a box-cut Speedo into a sheer, leather jockstrap after he tugged it up his massive thighs. By the time it nestled around his little, hairy balls and nearly nonexistent cock, it had changed completely. He could feel his bare ass hanging out the back and, even though he couldn’t see his package beneath his big belly, he knew that it was cupped in a mesh pouch. He straightened and squared his shoulders, happy to bask in the warm glow of Leo’s hungry regard…and the heat from the fire.

“Here,” Leo coaxed, draping a huge arm over his bare shoulders, “Sit down with us while we wait for the moon to rise. Jarvi and I were just getting warmed up after our long swim from the mainland.” He motioned to a dark brown, leathery blanket at his feet, adding, “you can share my skin with me.”

Mason followed Leo’s gaze downward, noticing for the first time the heavy, brown leather ‘blanket’ lying on the sand at their feet. It was Leo’s second skin, the one that allowed him to transform back into a sea lion when he slipped it on. A shiver of anticipation ran down Mason’s spine; he had never seen much less touched Leo’s second skin before. From what he’d learned about his mysterious lover over the past nine months, he knew this was an even rarer privilege than being invited to wear Leo’s skin suit and he felt his heart pound inside his chest. He didn’t resist, though, when Leo sank onto the skin and pulled him down with him, settling him comfortably between his meaty thighs. His giant cock pulsed as Leo eased it into the cleft of Mason’s ass cheeks.

The first time Mason’s bare butt made contact with the skin, a wave of such sublime and intimate pleasure washed over him that he had to blink back tears. In an instant, he felt merged with the great and powerful Leo and could suddenly sense, touch, and feel the world through his lover’s body. Leo’s senses were his senses. Even more, Leo’s life was his life.

“My love,” Leo whispered, nibbling his ear. “You are part of me forever now.”

Mason opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Jarvi clearing his throat. “Hey!” the young guy complained, “what about me?”

Leo looked up and chuckled, saying, “C’mere, pup!” as he spread his skin out and patted it with a great hand. “My skin’s big enough for you both.”

Jarvi bounded to his feet and then surprised them by taking his own grey skin and draping it over their shoulders as he sat down. Another scintillating rush of intense, intimate pleasure coursed through Mason’s body and he was left gasping. Touching Leo’s skin had been overwhelming but being enveloped by a second one so soon was almost too much. Beside him, he felt Leo’s body tremble and he knew the big man was just as taken aback as he was.

“Jarvi,” Leo murmured in a throaty voice. “Oh, Jarvi. What a gift you have given us!”

The young Finn laughed, leaning over to kiss Leo on the neck. A moment later his lips found Mason’s and soon the three of them were rolling around on the sand, wrapped in the loving embrace of the twin seal skins. Things would have gotten quickly out of hand (and into other orifices) if a droll voice hadn’t interrupted them.

“I hate to break up your orgy but I only have one night and I’d kind of like to spend it with my big brother.”

Mason froze. Pinned as he was under Leo and Jarvi’s bulk, he could do little more than lift his head. When he saw Travis standing over them, naked and dripping with the full moon rising behind him, he felt his heart burst in his chest. He didn’t know how he did it but the next thing he knew he was hugging his brother so fiercely that Travis had to make him stop.

“Yo, bro!” he gasped. “Easy! You’re crushing me!”

Mason loosened his grip slightly but didn’t pull away. He never wanted to let go of his little brother again!

“Trav! Trav!” he exclaimed, nuzzling against his brother’s neck. “You’re back! I thought we’d lost you!”

Travis laughed as he admitted, “Well, I felt pretty lost, too. After all that bullshit with Sean, I almost didn’t want to be found again. Thank god that K’al was there that night when I came down to the ocean or I might not be here right now. He saved my skin by giving me his!”

Mason hugged his brother tighter for a moment before pulling back. Travis had changed in the past year. He was bigger, more muscular, and at least four inches taller. He also had several long scars on his face and neck that he didn’t have before. And he looked older than his twenty two years.

Noting Mason’s scrutiny, Travis commented, “Life’s rough out there in the ocean but I love it. I feel more alive than ever, bro! I almost didn’t want to come back.”

“Travis, don’t–” Mason warned but his brother cut him off, reassuring, “Oh, don’t worry! I’m not gonna stay a seal forever, dude. I know now why K’al and Leo left the sea. Things are…wrong…out there.” He paused before explaining, “Fish are scarce. The water is too warm. The pollution is getting obnoxious. There are too many fishing boats, submarines, and tankers. It’s a fuckin’ cacophony of noise underwater! And then there’s all that fuckin’ plastic.”

Mason swallowed, still taking a mental tally of the ways Travis had changed. When he realized his brother was waiting for his reply, he said, “Sounds awful! Why don’t you come back now?”

Travis’ mouth quirked. “Um, ‘cuz gettin’ fucked by all those super-hung sea lion bulls is totally lit, that’s why,” he joked, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and grinning deviously. “I know you know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! ‘Cept there’s nothin’ like doin’ it in a seal skin. Holy fuck it’s amazing!”

“You’re terrible.”

Travis lifted a bushy eyebrow.  “Sez my slutty older brother who was just gettin’ plowed by his bull on the beach.” His voice trailed off as he looked over Mason’s shoulder, his gaze landing on Leo’s towering form. “And speaking of getting plowed, sharing is caring, bro. Your studly bull is makin’ my pussy wet…”

Mason started to swat at him but then stopped, brow furrowing. “Your…pussy?” Then he got it. “Oh, you mean your ass–”

“No, I mean my pussy,” Travis corrected, standing back and motioning downward. “Ain’t it the best thing ever?”

Mason’s eyes slid down his brother’s incredibly toned and muscular body and landed on his crotch. At first he thought that Travis’ cock has shrunk down to a nub like his own but he gasped when he realized that wasn’t a nub of a penis poking out from Travis’ pushy pubes.

It was a clit.

His little brother had a clitoris!

Travis laughed at his reaction, provocatively lowering his hand and pressing in on the hairy folds of skin…down there. His dripping clit pushed outward. “Told ya I was wet,” he teased. He lifted his hand and wiggled his moist fingers in Mason’s face, explaining proudly, “This is what happens when a boy in a seal skin gets fucked by a bull.”

Mason gaped, mind reeling. He suddenly felt lucky that his cock had merely shrunk after tasting Leo’s seed. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done if he’d lost it entirely and grown a pussy.

While he stood there in shock, Travis pushed past him and sauntered up to Leo. The giant man was standing rigid as a pole in the sand…with the magnificent pole between his legs standing equally rigid. His eyes darted from Travis to Mason, pleading wordlessly. It was clear that he was captivated by Travis but wouldn’t make a move on him without Mason’s permission.

Mason shook himself and, throwing his hands up in the air, acquiesed. “Oh, go for it!” he exclaimed. “Fuck my little brother. I don’t care. Just don’t take all night. Travis and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Leo mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and launched himself at Travis. Soon the air was filled with their ecstatic bellows as Leo mounted his prize cow. Mason rolled his eyes before joining Jarvi on the young Finn’s cozy second skin. The two savored their deepening bond on that skin, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder and watching the sun disappear into the sea.

Life sure had gotten strange ever since he’d met Leo, Mason thought as he tried to ignore the lusty grunting behind them, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

***