O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Big Man on Mattress (inanimate)

by Drakkenfyre

Brody was at the dorm laundry room waiting for his load to finish, when he heard a guy cursing at the top of his lungs. He looked up from his text book to see that the only other guy in the basement room with him standing over a washing machine holding shreds of multi-colored fabric.

“MY LUCKY SHEETS!” Quinn shouted. Brody recognized the angry young man as the college’s star quarterback.

Apparently, his sheets got caught in the machine and were ripped to shreds. He stood there holding up pieces, and shaking his head. Brody just shakes his head, and almost mutters that the qb is just a whiny brat. As soon as the unspoken thought was thought, the quarterback Quinn Baker turned to glare at Brody.

He shouts, "I have to sleep in my lucky sheets if I'm going to win in tomorrow's game!"

“Looks like you’re out of luck,” Brody says with a shrug. He flips through his book trying to find where he left off.

His face is red and he clenches his fists. His veins stand out on his neck and forehead.

"I'm never out of luck!" he holds up a chain around his neck from it hang a rabbit's foot, a metal four leaf clover, and a tiny horseshoe.

“Wow, man, you’re crazy,” said Brody jumping off the machine where he was sitting.

His eyes look weird and the objects around his neck seem to gleam a bit too brightly as if lit from within.
Your legs feel rubbery, and you seem dizzy.

Brody asks dully, “Huh?”

"I have a ritual I need to perform. I need my Power Ranger Sheets!" the quarterback exclaims looming over the frightened college boy.

Unable to move his feet to retreat, Brody bolsters his bravado and says, “Go buy some then!”

Brody notices the skin on his arm is breaking out with a weird rash. It looks a bit like a power ranger. Brody asks, “What is happening?”

“They haven't made them since I was ten years old,” the quarterback says wistfully. Then with excited confidence, he adds, “My luck, just became your misfortune, you are going to become my new lucky sheets.”

“Yeah, uh, whatever,” Brody said trying to figure out how to get away from psycho football star. Brody concentrates on shuffling his feet, but instead his pants end up around his ankles.

Brody glances down at his now hairless tattooed legs in horror and disbelief.

“What the fu-?” Brody mutters under his breath.

"Well, since you're going to be my sheets. You might as well know what the ritual entails. I have to jack off 3 times in my sheets before I go to sleep and then I sleep naked in my own drying cum, and I don't wash my sheets until the season ends or starts again. Tomorrow is the start of the new season,” he says calmly with a grin. Then he adds, “Hey, it’s nothing personal.”

“Quinn, p-p-puh-please let me go,” Brody pleaded.

“Don't look so horrified; haven't you got any school spirit? I won every game last year following my ritual,” he said triumphantly with his gleaming white smile.
“Man, I am a human being,” Brody reminded the quarterback. He exclaimed, “You cannot do this to me.”

“No, I think most people will agree that you're not a human being any more. You're my bedding. Albeit you're still talking, but that won't last much longer,” was his calm firm reply.

“Listen, man, please. I have friends. I will be the team water boy,” babbled Brody, “Just turn me back.”

“Quinn, please,” Brody said thinly, “I have a boyfriend.”

The quarterback answered moving into Brody’s personal space and whispering in his ear, “Cool, what's his name? Or did you just make him up?”

“Shawn Wilson,” Brody blurted out, and then he wished he hadn’t.

The quarterback grinned, “Well, you can rest assured that after I win tomorrow's game, I'll pick Shawn up and bring him back and do him inside you. Won't that be cool, our two hot sweaty bodies cumming inside you and each other?”

“No please, man, I love him,” sobbed Brody softly.

The quarterback smiled, “Besides, my comforter's getting a bit ratty.”

Brody shivered.

As Quinn continued, “And since you're my brand new sheets, I should see if he can become my new comforter. Then I'll have new lucky bedding to last me through my pro career.”

FLOP.

Brody collapsed into a heap. The quarterback picks him up, folds him, and then he holds Brody’s cotton softness to his cheek. Brody screams silently.

“Toasty warm just like you're fresh out of the dryer,” the quarterback said gently. Then with lusty vigor he added, “I can't wait to get you up to my room and break you in.”

Another silent scream echoes through Brody’s mind.

He just packs up your clothing, his laundry and you and heads up to his room. Brody sadly noted that the jock’s comforter was getting pretty faded and ratty, especially compared to his bright colors. He stretches Brody out on his bed. Brody realizes that his top sheet is sewn to the fitted sheet that is also him. It's a tight fit on the twin bed, like, the sheets were made for a kid size twin instead of the extra long twins that colleges use. Brody fits all the same.

The quarterback strips naked, and Brody cannot help but admire Quinn’s muscular physique. Brody considers himself lucky that if he’s going to be some college student’s sheets, it’s this hot jock quarterback’s naked body between the sheets, and not that fat, hairy, smelly kid Frodo down the hall. The hot naked skin glides in between the sheets. His warm muscular body fills Brody, and then the comforter is drawn up over both of them. The quarterback’s firm grip closes around his cock, and a good wad of fabric. He begins to methodically pump his cock jacking off. Rapidly his penis expands inside the fabric. The ritual has begun.

Within a matter of minutes, the horny quarterback blows his first load christening his new lucky sheets. He then proceeds to use the cum as lube, as he continues to pump his organ again and again. Brody cannot help but mentally moan as his fantasy hunk uses him as his jizz rag. It’s like some sick wet dream. The jock’s sweat begins to drench Brody’s cotton body. Two more explosions of hot sticky liquid fill Brody again, and again. Then the jock boy yawns loudly, and starts to snore.
“ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ,” echo through the night.

In the dark silence, with the jock’s sweat and cum permeating his very being, Brody is shocked to realize that he is starting to enjoy quarterback’s manly scent. Eventually, the alarm goes off, and the quarterback rises. His morning wood goes unattended for now. Perhaps that’s part of the ritual too. Hastily, he makes his bed covering his sheets completely with the comforter.

Then Brody lies in darkness all day under the comforter in silence. Hours drag by.

Suddenly, Brody hear voices. Accolades for the quarterback, so apparently, he won. Then Brody recognizes Shawn's voice with the quarterback. Brody thinks, oh, oh! Then he tries to yell a warning for his lover to flee. He is torn with his true love so near, he wants to be together with Shawn so badly. Maybe being bedding together wouldn’t be so bad?

Sean asks, “So Brody told you he wants me to do it with you? Why didn't he tell me himself?”

“Just drink the beer,” answered the winning quarterback testily, “It'll make sense.” Under his breath Brody hear him mutter, "At least the roofies in the beer will make it seem like sense."

Hot sweaty sex follows about 20 minutes later. Brody just lays there helplessly absorbing every physical detail – figuratively as well as literally. Soon, Brody recognizes the sound of Shawn snoring.

Then for about half the night the jock quarterback whines, "Papa needs a new comforter"

Finally, he sits up and asks, “Dang! Why isn't it working?”

The quarterback pulls the comforter off the bed and shoves it in Shawn's face. He orders his shiny necklace, “Turn into a new comforter just like this one!”

Shawn is too out of it to even understand what the quarterback is saying. Finally, the quarterback goes to bed with Sean clinging to the comforter.

In the morning, the old comforter is on the floor, and there's a new one covering a single figure in the bed.

The alarm blares loudly.

It is followed by a loud yawn and the stretching of the bed’s lone occupant.

The quarterback’s naked body sits up in the cum-soaked sheets. He exclaims, “WTF? How did I become a muscle jock? What happened to the quarterback? Is this why Brody wanted me to sleep with that jock? He wanted me to be a buffed out muscle boy like this?” his words sound confused, hurt and a bit fearful.

Brody laughs silently. The quarterback screwed up, the jock quarterback in between his sheets has the voice of Shawn Wilson. That means the real quarterback has morphed into a Power Rangers comforter. Shawn held out his muscled arms, and looked down at his new broad chest with six pack abs. He peeled back the sheets to examine his new lower anatomy and grinned. It may not be his body, but it was in good shape, and the cock looked interesting. Not only was it bigger than Shawn's original one, but this one had a foreskin. Shawn couldn't help but think that this an improvement. He looked down at his handsome feet. They were at least 4 sizes bigger than his old size 9 feet, and that reflected the increase in cock size too. If this was a dream, it was a good one. He couldn't wait to show his boyfriend Brody his new body.

As he shifted his weight, he heard some metal jangle. There was a cool charm necklace in bed with him. Shawn the quarterback picks up the necklace, and suddenly he can hear Brody’s laughter.

He jumps out of bed and asks as he scans the room, “Brody? Where are you?”

Brody thinks at him, "I am the sheets."

He looks under the bed. Scratches his head and mutters again, “WTF?”

“No kidding, bright boy, you're me, and I'm this friggin' comforter and your bf is the sheets,” laments the quarterback. I don't know how this happened.”

Mentally, he adds, “Maybe I shouldn't have used roofies. That was the only real difference with what I did when Brody became my sheets, and when you should’ve become my comforter.

Brody realizes that Shawn is the quarterback now, and pleads, “Shawn, turn me back.”

The quarterback is lost in self-analysis and doubt, “Maybe the beer played a factor too?”

Shawn loudly asks, “How?”

“I don't know,” admitted Brody with defeat in his psychic voice.

The quarterback thought strongly, “Yeah, turn us back, you moron.”

Brody quickly thought, “Leave the QB but turn me back.”

The comforter thought, “You may have my body, but you don't have my moves. You'll get yourself and my body killed next week on the gridiron. Just concentrate on me being me and you being my comforter and that should do it.”

Shawn raises an eyebrow, "Yeah, right?" He adds, “So why did you change Brody into your sheets anyway?”

Brody thought, no concentrate on me being your bf again.

The comforter confesses, “I have a ritual during the season, I jack off three times into my sheets every night and sleep in my own cum. So, when my lucky sheets got thrashed in the laundry, and Brody was the only guy around, and he became my sheets.” There’s a pregnant pause and he thinks, “Oh, shit that's probably why I'm the comforter instead of you.”

The comforter continued, “I blew my wad in your ass, and it was your cum soaking in the sheets last night, instead of mine.”

“For a blankey, you sure are talkative.”

“What? I said that out loud? Oh, great, I hope he isn’t reading my mind,” the comforter continued loudly.

Brody was laughing hysterically, as images, words and thoughts flooded both his and Shawn’s minds.

“I love you too, Brody,” Shawn said.

Brody felt embarrassed as he realized all his feelings and thoughts were an open book too.

Shawn concentrated on Brody with all his might. He could see his true heart’s image rise on the fabric, Brody’s body and lips moved but he was just an image on a sheet.

“I’m so sorry, Brody, I can’t – wait I think I see. Quinn, here,” Shawn said holding up the comforter, “changed you into his lucky sheets for the football season, so I can’t change you back until the season’s over. And maybe only then if we win,” he added thoughtfully, “But that applies for blanket-boy too, he won’t be changing back until then if then since I’m none to sure I want him back.”

Shawn climbed back under the covers, and chuckled lustily, “Well, if we’re going to be stuck like this for a few months, I guess we’d better make the most of it. Now how does this ritual go? Oh, oh, oh, yeah!” Shawn may have Quinn’s body, but his sexual moves are slower and more erotic. Shawn and Brody lose themselves each other in the sweaty sticky moment.

Brody and Quinn couldn’t hear Shawn’s hidden thoughts the same way he could hear theirs, but if they did they both might be a little nervous. Shawn was thinking about all the opportunities his new life as Quinn Baker opened up for him. Yeah it wasn’t his own body, but it was damn hot. It was the number one draft choice for the NFL, and after that he could name his career in broadcasting. That had been Shawn’s chief fear – that he wasn’t good looking enough to get on camera job in network TV. His journalism professor had stared right at him when she said, “Some of you should focus on print or radio journalism. If you haven’t got the look, you’re not getting a desk job in today’s world of image journalism.”

Besides thought Shawn, he hadn’t stolen Quinn’s body. Quinn had tried to steal his body, and well, Quinn had stolen it, but he had botched it. Now Shawn’s body was a comforter, and Quinn’s mind was trapped in it. Shawn had lucked out. He was now a superstud, the big man on campus. He hadn’t lost his boyfriend in the process either. Okay, the sex was more one-sided now, but the thoughts Brody was sharing with him more than made up for it. He wondered if he’d be psychically linked when he turned Brody back. He thought it might be cool having a boyfriend who was a were-sheet. There were some interesting possibilities.

Quinn wasn’t too happy with this turn of events. He had plans that didn’t involve him being some horny college boy’s blanket. He knew how his brain worked. Even if Shawn’s mind was in Quinn’s body’s brain, it would be stuck with the architecture of Quinn’s brain. Quinn had trained the pathways of his brain to focus on his own narcissistic benefit. It made him a better football player, even if it didn’t make him a very nice person. Soon – if they weren’t already – Shawn’s thoughts would be following Quinn’s thought pattern, and Quinn would be a blanket forever. If he wasn’t so pissed and feeling sorry for himself, Quinn might have noticed the irony of his situation.

If Brody wasn’t enjoy his boyfriend’s wet dream so much, he might have noticed Quinn’s thoughts.

Only time will tell if Quinn is right. For now Shawn’s off to shower and head to practice. He’s really focused on winning…

END

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