PRIDE

I see him sitting there on the park bench, across the way. On any other day, I’d think him quite handsome, but I am a MASTER after all, and can see beyond what he wants the world to know. I can see into his mind. I can hear the whispers of his thoughts dancing on the wind, his most guarded thoughts and secrets … a cracked doorway into who he really is.

On the outside, he’s a young businessman in his early thirties. Handsome enough, puffing on a vape cig while talking on the phone as he watches the Pride Parade move down Fifth Avenue. I walk closer, his thoughts becoming even more clear as I hear his phone conversation.

“Yeah, I don’t know what those fucks can’t keep it behind closed doors, you know? Why do they have to parade that shit all over the street in the middle of the day?” he says. Perhaps his inner thoughts aren’t so secret after all. Perhaps he is, quite simply, a prick in the real world.

I step closer, stopping in front of him. I stand there, staring down at him. He glances up at me, annoyed.

“You got a problem, buddy?”

I don’t respond, trying to decide what his fate will be.

He … or … Brad … his name flutters through my mind as I feel his growing anger. He hangs up the phone and glares up at me.

“I asked you if you had a problem.” I feel the anger. It’s thick and dark, and I suddenly feel sad for him.

“So much hate,” I whisper. “Why?”

“What did you say?” He stands. “Are you with the little parade here? Is that it? You hitting one me?” I don’t move and he grows even angrier, pushing me back as I look into his eyes. “You better step off if you know what’s good for you … fucking fag.”

Yes, I think. He needs to FEEL accepted. He needs to FEEL love.

Still unmoving, I scan his body. His dark hair. His confining business suit. Trying so hard to be accepted, when all he needs is …

He suddenly comes at me again, but I stop him … simply … with my mind. Being a MASTER has its benefits, the entire world slowing to a crawl around me. Nobody knows what is happening. Nobody feels the changes … nobody but Brad that is.

“I’m going to set you free, Bradley,” I whisper, leaning in and gently touching his forehead. His body goes instantly still and relaxed. “I’m going to make you better.”

I feel his fear. It boils inside him. I touch his expensive suit, my finger drifting down his torso as it begins to fade away beneath my touch until Bradley is standing their naked. He’s not as fit as I thought, nor as hairy. I’d say he was a bit chubby, pale, average … although still quite handsome. Even his cock was average. Nothing special. Just ordinary.

It’s sad he’s so caged within his own thoughts and reality … within his own hatred of things he simply doesn’t understand. That would change. Yes, it will change.

I begin by moving closer. I run my hands through his thick, dark hair and it recedes, becoming more of a messy blonde crop, wavy curls replacing his long straight locks. I then gently kiss his face, his mind reeling as my lips graze his soft skin. His face begins to transform. A sharper jawline. More chiseled features with a cute nose and thick, full lips that I kiss deeply, breathing some of my essence into him to calm him. I can feel him relaxing as his mind begins to shift into something new and beautiful.

I continue to touch his body, my fingers dancing over his skin as all aspect of his chubby body begin to disappear. Muscles grow. His abs surface. His pecs swell, small perfect nipples rising beneath my touch as the tiniest bit of fuzz sprouts along the perfect swimmer’s body I’ve created.

I nod at his forearms as a couple of tattoos appear. I then step behind him. My own clothes fade away as I press my body against his, passing more of my essence into his own. Love. Gratitude. Confidence. Kindness. Pride. I move my hands over his shoulders as a leather harness appears, tight over his broad chest. I kiss the back of his head as a leather cap forms. I then move my hands lower, to his cock and it swells beautifully into something worthy of the new Bradley. Then, a leather speedo appears, and I give it a slight tug before kissing him one last time on the neck.

Finally, I whisper into his ear. “You are free,” and Bradley begins to move again as does the world around him. He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t remember our meeting or who he used to be. He simply knows of the muscled bear he’s become as turns into the crowd and marches down the street with those who’ve also accepted themselves.

I feel his thoughts. I feel the love and acceptance. I feel his pride.