Never the Same Again Pt. 01


Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.


My teeth were already clean, but Tanner didn’t need to know that. I stood in front of the mirror continuing to brush as he emerged from the shower stall in the hostel bathroom. The water matted down his tawny body hair, plentiful as it was on his chest and belly. Tanner was long and lean, neither chiseled with pronounced muscles nor skinny — a solid, seductively sinewy 22-year-old with piercing blue eyes, pouty lips, and a strong jaw.

I had known Tanner for a few years by that point; he was my best friend and the object of an all-consuming crush. We had never talked explicitly about our sexuality. At that point I was still mostly repressed, and while my inner circle seemed to tacitly understand that I was gay, I had never come out nor been with a man. Part of this was my own hang-ups about my orientation, and part of it was my being deeply infatuated with Tanner. His understated beauty, unsurpassable intelligence, and endless empathy had gripped me and would not let go. On some level, I think he knew this — too perceptive for his own good — and though he wouldn’t acknowledge it, we both knew deep down who held all the power in our complicated friendship.

Case in point: there we were in a dilapidated hostel in the heart of Mexico City. When he suggested it for our boys’ trip, I knew we would be going, even though I had spent weeks talking about Rome. Wherever Tanner went, I followed. Whatever he asked of me, I gave. I couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him for too long. I needed to be around him, whether that was in Europe or Yucatan.

I kept brushing as I discretely watched Tanner behind me in the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, rubbing it against his skin to dry his legs and loins. He grabbed his boxer briefs from the stool in the corner and bent over to pull them on under his towel. For just a flash, as he lifted his leg, I could see his cock and balls peek out — not enough to make anything out, but enough to send an electric jolt through my entire body. God, what I wouldn’t give to see Tanner’s cock. Sometimes, in the peaks of my frustrated lust for him, I considered asking him for just one nude picture, something to satisfy my unending desire. But of course, that would never happen, and so I relegated myself to near-daily masturbation just to release the tension.

This was not so easy to accomplish in a hostel, and the past few days had been torture.

“Hey, man,” Tanner said casually, as if he’d just noticed me in the bathroom with him. “I’m thinking we check out Zona Rosa tonight. I hear the club scene is insane.”

“Are you going to ditch me again if we go clubbing?” I asked, immediately embarrassed by how pathetic I sounded. The night before, Tanner had hit it off with a traveler from Germany while we were partying at a rooftop club. An outgoing Berliner with huge tits and a shaved head, Inga had seemed determined to hook up with Tanner that night, and he was more than happy to acquiesce. Not even an hour after we had arrived, they had snuck off together, leaving me alone in a rowdy club in a foreign city. I left soon after and spent the rest of night sulking around Condesa, praying that by the time I got back to the hostel they wouldn’t still be fucking in the dormitory. I don’t think I could have handled seeing that.

“Sorry about that,” he said flatly. “Inga gave me some E and all of a sudden all I wanted to do was fuck something. She was a total freak — we went three times and I was still rock hard by the end of it.” Hearing him describe all that, my dick started to stir. It was all too much. “But tonight’s about you and me hanging out. I promise.”

He left the bathroom to go get dressed, freeing up the shower for me. I stripped down and eyed myself in the mirror: I had gotten a little pudgy over the last year, indulging too much in beer and drunk food and not going to the gym as often as I should. My chest was beginning to show the signs of man boobs; my beer gut and fat padding around my groin making my dick look runty, even in its half-erect state and with my pubes trimmed down close to the skin. Even if Tanner were gay, there’s no way he’d want to be with someone who looked like me.

A tan, sexy Brazilian guest came into the bathroom and ripped of his boxers, revealing a thick, uncut cock that was at least five inches soft. He started letting out a massive piss in the urinal and I hurried into the shower stall to hide my shame. At this point I was fully hard. I gripped my dick and started slowly stroking under the stream. I thought of the half-second glimpse of Tanner’s junk, the Brazilian’s beautiful cock, and my own maddening horniness. Using some shampoo, I began to slowly stroke, making an effort not to make any suspicious squelching noises. I thought back to my favorite sexy memories of Tanner — the time he wore a Speedo as a joke on a istanbul travesti weekend trip to Miami, when he dressed up in all leather for Halloween, every time he’d strutted around in his favorite little boxer briefs. I was getting so close to climax when the shitty shower ran out of hot water, shocking me with an icy blast and causing my dick to near-instantly soften.

I could cry. I didn’t know if it was the cold water or sexual frustration that had turned my nuts a shade of purple. I hurriedly finished my shower and got dressed.


We spent the afternoon exploring new corners of the city, laughing with each other over street cart tacos, impossibly cheap cervezas, and delicious pastries. We saw the Diego Rivera murals, and spoke about them at length. On one stroll, we passed by a group of kids playing soccer, and Tanner stopped to call out some pointers in near-perfect Spanish. In a famous panaderia, I gave Tanner a brief lecture on the unique local baked goods while he smiled at me goofily. For a moment, I let myself and indulge and imagine that we were a newly in-love couple, drinking each other in.

We sat on a bench eating some conchas, taking refuge in the shade and watching a grand fountain erupt with the hour. “This has been such a good day, dude,” said Tanner. “Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you had your heart set on Rome, but I knew we’d have more fun here. I really appreciate this time together… I love ya, bud.”

My heart fluttered. “Yeah, of course. This has been better than I thought.”

“So, anyway,” he went on. “I was talking to the bartender at the hostel and he told me about this club in Zona Rosa that sounds really fun. There’s some show tonight so the cover’s cheaper, but at midnight it changes back to a DJ/dance thing. And even though it’s a gay club, lots of straight girls go, so there’ll be easy pickings.”

My pulse quickened. “But we’re not tryna hook up tonight, right?”

“Well, who knows where the night will take us,” he winked impishly.

I felt a rush of anger and had to take a deep breath and an aggressive bite to try and calm down. “You said tonight was about us hanging out.”

“I promise not to leave with some chick so early — we’ll hang out all night, that I guarantee. But at the end of the night, if I’ve found a girl…” he trailed off and grinned.

Of course that’s what he had meant earlier. Why would I ask him not to fuck? Maybe he was being willfully obtuse, or maybe I was just delusional.

“Well,” I said, as casually as I could muster, “just don’t do anything on the top bunk.”

He laughed. “We should try to get you someone tonight, dude. I know you’ve been in a dry spell. I think you need to fuck someone’s brains out. That’s… that’s kind of why I thought we could do Zona Rosa. Lots of, y’know… hot gay dudes.”

My stomach sank. I could only look at him blankly.

“I don’t care, man. And I think it’s been obvious to all of us for a while. Like I just said, I love you, you’re basically my brother, and I don’t give a shit who you wanna bang as long as you get laid and are happy.” He paused, and grinned again. “So there!”

“I don’t know what to say,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “Thank you, Tanner. That means the world.”

He stood up from the bench and held his long, wiry arms open. I got a glimpse of his armpit hair peeking out from his sleeve. I stood up and returned the hug, squeezing tight and reveling in the feeling of his body up against mine. I was falling more in love with him than ever.


It was later that evening and we were getting ready to go out for the night. Tanner had insisted that I shower before him; I feared maybe he had caught me ogling him earlier. I was back in the dorm getting dressed to go out — I wore a structured, dark blue button-down that hid my weight gain well and light jeans that made my ass look great. I felt sexy for the first time in a long while.

I sat on the torn-up sofa against the wall as Tanner came back into the room to dress. Fresh from the shower, he was naked except for a pair of scarlet underwear that drew all attention to what I could only imagine were heavy, juicy balls. He slid into a white linen shirt, sheer enough that in the right light you could see his dirty-blonde fur and small, pink nipples through it. He put on some navy chinos and came to join me on the couch. Tanner spun around and laid back, playfully putting his bare size-12s in my lap and his arms behind his head. His shirt lifted up, revealing a happy trail and the barest hint of the “V” of his lower abdomen.

“I’m fucking stoked for tonight,” Tanner beamed.

I forced myself to smile back. “Me too, dude. Looking forward to you being my wingman, for once.”

Tanner laughed. “It’s about time I return the favor. We’re gonna find you the hottest lay in all of Mexico City.”

Zona Rosa was about 45 minutes away from our hostel by foot, so we took the metro. Our stop was close to the club, istanbul travestileri which we were dismayed to find had a long line down the block. We stood behind a dark-haired man with a goatee and heavy make-up and a Latina with a huge ass in a tight, hot pink dress.

Tanner, ever the extrovert, struck up a conversation with our neighbors in line. “How long have you guys been here?” he asked.

The man turned around first. He was taller than both Tanner and I, wearing a tight, sequined vest and leather pants. “About ten minutes. Hasn’t moved much, sadly.”

His companion, in a heavy accent, chimed in, “They’re letting in hot guys from the line though,” she shot daggers at her friend, “They didn’t like Diego.”

“You two might make the cut, though,” said Diego, making eyes at me.

I blushed, which Tanner mistook for my interest in him. Sure, Diego was hot in his way — burly, a real “daddy” type — but he was maybe ten years older than us with a receding hairline and a hard, unfriendly face. And how could any man possibly look attractive standing next to Tanner?

“And what is your name?” Tanner asked the woman, leaning in closer. I had seen this tactic before. His deep voice, a low rumble in a girl’s ear, the scent of his cologne — when Tanner wanted to seduce someone, it was rare that they ever turned him down.

“Linda,” she told him, twirling her dark ponytail around a manicured finger.

“Linda indeed,” Tanner almost growled.

As the indignation started bubbling up in me, I noticed two drag queens walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the rope. They were laughing and making jokes in Spanish, eyeing the people in in line. When they got to us, they paused and looked at each other.

“Vosotros dos,” one said, pointing at Tanner and me. “Ven con nosotras.”

Tanner chuckled. “They want us to come with them. I think we’ve been chosen.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” I responded tersely.

The drag queens unhooked the rope and ushered us through. “¿Pueden venir nuestros amigos? ” Tanner asked as they hurried us along. Can our friends come?

“Mm, no,” said the other queen, crinkling her nose at Diego. I felt bad for him.

“See you inside,” I said sympathetically, but the steamy look on his face told me he had interpreted my words differently.

As the queens led us towards the door and past the bouncer, Tanner looked at me from the side, his face looking almost stern. “Why are you so surly? You’re acting like kind of a buzzkill. You gotta lighten up if we’re gonna have fun tonight.”

“You told me you wouldn’t ditch me for some rando,” I shot back.

“Dude, what? That Linda chick?” Tanner asked, exasperated. “I was literally just flirting. We were stuck in line; I was having fun. Don’t be fucking clingy.”

I almost stopped in my tracks. His unkind words took the wind out of me, especially given that I’d been riding the high of our conversation in the park earlier. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be clingy, it’s just — I want this trip to be about us, you know –“

“We hung out all day today,” he quipped. “Jamie, you know I’m supportive of you all the way. But it’s going to really suck if you get jealous every time I so much as talk to a girl.”

“I–” We were in the venue now, and the music was really too loud to continue a conversation like this. “Sorry, you’re right,” I yelled. “Let’s have fun and get fucked up.”

Tanner grinned. “That’s the spirit. I’m sorry too. Start scoping out the guys, let’s work some magic for you tonight.”

I knew I was mostly in the wrong. But if Tanner really knew that having to watch him pick up girls at parties was upsetting to me, maybe he could at least try to be a little sensitive about it. My mood had soured, and I resolved to get very drunk.

The club was on the smaller side. A stage took up most of the left-hand wall, lit up and set for the drag show which was to start in just a few moments. A few tables and chairs filled the floor in the sunken area in front of the stage, to be cleared out after the performance for dancing. A bar and some tight standing room took up the rest of the club.

We made our way to order some drinks, and Tanner suggested some shots of tequila. We did two each and got beers to take down to the tables. The house lights were dimming and the music had lowered.

We sat at a small table towards the back of the dancefloor. “I wonder what the show’s going to be like,” said Tanner. “Have you ever been to a drag thing?”

“No,” I shook my head. I was always shy about exploring gay culture. “I guess it’ll be a surprise.”

The tables had filled up, and even the standing room in the back was tight and crowded. I scanned the throng and caught glimpse of Diego’s shiny vest. I quickly averted my eyes — not for the sake of avoiding him, but for doing anything to keep Linda away from Tanner.

The two drag queens who had ushered us in were walking around with body glitter, travesti istanbul accompanied by a third performer. She stood out in the crowd — literally, as with heels she was easily over six-foot-five. Her dress looked expensive, a satiny emerald green, and her orange wig was piled high on top of her head. She had analytical, hazel eyes, which she seemed to have fixed on our table as the trio moved about the room.

When they had reached us, the two queens with glitter undid a few of our shirt buttons and applied body glitter to our chests. I felt embarrassed as the one attending to me squeezed my flabby pectoral.

“Welcome in, Gentlemen,” said the tall drag queen in perfect English. “I am La Tigresa, your hostess for the evening. We do hope you find the performance to be satisfactory.” She winked.

“We’re looking forward to it,” Tanner responded cheerily.

They left, and after what felt like an eternity, the stage lights blared on and an upbeat Latin pop song started playing. The three performers came onto the stage and were greeted with raucous cheers from the crowd. They lip synced and danced to the song, which was unfamiliar to me but which Tanner seemed to recognize. Two large LCD screens flanked the stage, which were nice for magnifying what was happening on stage but struck me as unnecessary for such a small venue. The queens threw balloons into the crowd, as well as an inflatable male sex doll with a comically large boner, who crowd surfed among the tables.

The show was outlandish and unapologetically queer. I felt a sense of ease and belonging, finally getting to indulge my gayness, and with the support of my straight best friend.

After a few musical acts, La Tigresa came onto the stage. “Bienvenidos and welcome! We hope you’re having an absolutely degenerate evening.” The crowd cheered. I noticed that the other two queens — who through the show I had learned were called Beatriz and Tati — were back out on the house floor.

“For our next act, we’ll need a volunteer on the stage! My devoted minions are searching for the perfect specimen now.”

Beatriz made a show of examining the men in the crowd, teasingly stroking their chests or thighs, tousling hair. Tati, however, made a beeline for Tanner and I — or rather, just Tanner. “Honey,” she said, “we would love to have you join us for this act.”

Tanner glanced over at me and I grinned. “Go for it!” He seemed hesitant, but I kept egging him on. “This is your change to be an ally,” I joked.

Finally, he chuckled, “Okay, fine.”

La Tigresa called out, “Look at this! I believe we have our next victim.” The crowd laughed and hooted as Tati led him by the hand up to the stage. Beatriz was bringing a chair out into the middle of the stage, and as Tanner was making his way up the steps, a man in a black “STAFF” t-shit handed him a clipboard. I watched as Tanner signed. “Pausing while we get the waivers sorted,” La Tigresa explained.

That struck me as a little odd, but it was probably just a standard liability thing for the club in case a volunteer tripped and hurt himself on stage… or something.

Tati escorted Tanner to the chair in the middle of the stage. The TV monitors hugged the frame around him; you could see the amused yet wary look on his face as he sat. Beatriz reemerged from the wings and held up two pairs of fuzzy handcuffs. I felt a whooping sensation in my stomach, almost trembling with anticipation of what they might do to him.

The crowd went wild as Beatriz secured Tanner’s hands behind the chair, cuffed to the back legs. The tension in his arms highlighted the heaving of his chest as he breathed, and the bright stage lights made his linen shirt all but transparent.

“Now, what’s your name, sweetie?” La Tigresa asked. “Tanner, eh? Well, Tanner, I hope you don’t mind the cuffs. They’re for my ladies’ safety, I’m sure you understand.”

Tanner shrugged and flashed his million-dollar smile. That alone was enough the make the crowd cheer again. I felt a hot flash as I thought about the straight women in the room — few as they may be — who might be seeing Tanner in this state and getting ideas. I started to regret encouraging him to volunteer.

Beatriz and Tati were now on either side of Tanner, seductively running their hands through his hair, up and down his chest. At one point, Tati tugged hard on a patch of chest hair, eliciting a “yeow!” from Tanner. Beatriz shimmied in front of him, and started dropping her ass into Tanner’s lap, performing an exaggerated lap dance. It all looked like good fun; they were just teasing and embarrassing a hot young guy from the crowd. The energy in the room was giddy, everyone sharing in the voyeuristic thrill of watching Tanner get teased by the queens.

Tati pulled Tanner’s shirt open, unbuttoning all but the last few buttons. She licked her fingers and rubbed his nipples with what looked like a good amount of force. When she pulled her hands away, I could see on the screen that his nips had gone pale and quite hard. I felt my dick start to harden, saliva gathering in my mouth as I watch them strip and fondle him. Of course, I was wishing it were me up there touching him like that, but this was a good enough second choice.

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