Date: Fri, 13 Oct 2017 21:24:56 +0000 (UTC)
From: M Coello <kooldoggie1973@yahoo.com>
Subject: "The Goths Become Surfers" (sci-fi/fantasy)

Terminus: Ryder Turns Erik the Goth Back into Skylar the Surfer
by
kooldoggie


Now that Max had returned to his normal state of total twink surfer, his
memories of being Whitey the Jock were quite hazy, but he did remember
something about the house where he had led a skater life, and Ryder and
Justin immediately identified it as that same Valley house where they had
lived as chill, 70's style skaters. Max supposed that Skylar, who had been
Dolan last time he had seen him, must still be there, and so a couple of
days after leaving Seattle, the tall, surfer-looking emo that Ryder now was
strode barefoot into the living room where the skaters were kicking back,
drinking sodas and chatting. They looked up at the weird, dreadlocked dude
with the black eyeliner around his ice-blue eyes, and none could tell this
boy had been that small golden angel who once had been a part of their
crowd.

Surfer Max and emo Justin followed close behind, and Max, not seeing Dolan
among the crowd, pointed upstairs. Ryder led them up to the dark room,
music of The Cure radiating out of the candle-lit interior, and inside the
two goths Erik and Brandon were making out. The two rangy, pale-as-fuck
boys broke off their kiss upon realizing they had company, and Max's eyes
met those of the wildly-attired goth in the black vinyl jacket, his red
lips pulled back to reveal his vampire teeth. The sight was unnerving, but
Max knew behind those otherworldly blue eyes was surferdude Skylar, stuffed
way down. The ghostly goth before him was so unlike the deeply tanned
surfer, however, and Max had severe doubts that Ryder could resurrect his
boyfriend.

Erik hissed, pulling back his luscious lips further, as if understanding
what the strangers were here for, and he huddled close to Brandon,
growling, "No! You can't take me!" But Ryder strode confidently into the
room, commanding Justin and Max to seize the winnowy goth and hold him
down. Erik struggled against them only briefly, while Brandon whimpered,
pleading for the invaders to stop harassing his lover, but the more
muscular surfer and emo-skater forced the skeletal goth to the wall, while
Ryder caressed his face, soothing him with hypnotic words: "Chill, dude,
this isn't you. You just think it is. You know who you are naturally,
right?"

Erik continued to growl, showing off his sharp fangs, his laser-blue eyes
with their narrow pupils staring down the tall, tanned blonde boy who
nevertheless chose black attire similar to the goth's own. Confusion racked
his brain, allowing Ryder's caress to initiate the change. Still, the goth
was going to put up a fight. Erik was happy here in the dark with his
ultra-goth lover Brandon, happy wallowing in morbidity and life's misery,
and he wasn't about to change that anytime soon. Ryder, however, knew he
had the power to change that, and ensure Skylar stayed put in pure beach
dude form this time. He had an idea: He seized the black curtains and
yanked them back, allowing piercing rays of sunlight into the dusty, gloomy
abode. "Nooooo!" cried panicked Brandon, rushing to the window in a failed
attempt to pull the curtains closed. But it was too late: The sun hit Erik
full on his white face, and the goth shut his eyes in pain, lips drawn back
into a scream. He kicked around and finally pulled himself free, falling to
the floor, writhing in pain. Ryder smiled; just the fact that the once weak
goth had wrestled himself out of Max and Justin's grip was proof he was
already growing stronger, more athletic, back to the Skylar all three once
had known in their surfer personas.

Erik's slender white hands with the long, black fingernails clawed at his
throat, as he seemed to be choking, suffocating in all his goth layers. Max
and Justin helped him first get off the spiky black collar, the vampire bat
and pentagram amulets along with it, before pulling the vinyl jacket off
him, leaving the slender, still-white torso in just his fishnet shirt. Erik
pulled himself to his knees, trembling, hyperventilating, still
resisting.... "Fuuuck, noooo!" he cried in a high-pitched voice as with
each rapid breath his lithe torso inflated a bit more, stretching out the
fishnet shirt. The other four boys watched in awe as the proportions
changed dramatically, the boney torso now wrapped in firm, taut, if pale
muscle, tone acquired from years of waveriding. Next, the pale shade took
on a lilt, the skin darkening gradually in the rays of the sun now
streaming into the room, goth Brandon doing his best to crouch back into
the remaining darkness.

Rips were heard as the shirt gave way under the pressure, holes tearing
wider and destroying the already shredded fabric, as toned, hard brown pecs
emerged. Erik again dropped to all fours, still in pain, his once narrow
legs stretching the leather pants to the breaking point. Max and Justin
again helped out, pulling off the pants. Already, beneath the pants were
Skylar's boardshorts. Max smiled, knowing his boyfriend would soon be
returned to him...

The pants were yanked off just in time, for the legs had bloated
dramatically, not to bodybuilder proportions of course, but they were no
longer slim chicken legs, no, these were carved and athletic limbs, a light
blonde fuzz on the shins again, the flesh browning dramatically as hard
definition appeared everywhere from taut thighs to curved calves. The boots
had been removed to reveal the pale, narrow feet, the black nail polish
disappearing, the feet pushing out longer, broader, tougher, used to a life
of freedom from all footwear.

Skylar was now grunting in satisfaction as he felt himself returning, his
smiling face turned to the sun, thicker arms, the spiderweb tattoos now
gone and replaced with barbed wire armbands, stretching out to embrace the
golden rays and drink them in. "Duuuude," a much deeper voice came from the
mouth, the jaw reforming, the fangs reshaping the teeth back into normal,
healthy white bone, the lipstick now gone. The eyeliner and any other
makeup vanished into the skin as the white complexion glowed up, returning
to a deep, brown tan, just like the flesh on the rest of his body. And the
stiff, hairsprayed jet-black spikes collapsed, pure gold creeping out like
tentacles to absorb all the dark locks, the long mane gathering around his
face and trailing down his back. He shook out the returned long, blonde
hair and pulled it back with a tie into his signature ponytail.

Skylar blinked, his blue eyes once again mellow, gentle and slightly
stoned, as he stood to his bare feet and sighed, every muscle again
relaxed. He had shrunk a couple of inches back to 6'2", but he still
appeared tall and strong, a buff surferdude who hated clothes just as much
as Keoni once had. Skylar put his tanned arms around Ryder, saying,
"Thanks, man!" as the emo-stud kissed along his neck, removing the curse
and setting the Skylar persona firmly in place.

"Noooo!" sobbed Brandon from behind him, as he choked back tears. Despite
Skylar's joy at returning to his life, the heartbroken goth now faced the
loss of his lover Erik, and he yelled out his rage, his blue eyes watery
and yearning, set within dark circles in his miserable-looking pale
face. He stretched out his white arms toward the sun, shuddering in its
warmth, unable to stand the light. The other boys looked at him with pity,
as Brandon whimpered, "Pleaase, take me with you! Don't leave me here
alone!"

Ryder looked toward Max and Skylar, needing their consent if he were to do
this. Max held Skylar's hand, the twink reaching up to kiss his taller,
ponytailed boyfriend. They smiled and nodded at each other. Although a
couple by default, the surferboys were open to having a third to share
their amorous existence, being chill-as-fuck, very liberal youths. They
could tell Brandon had potential to emerge from his misery as a serious
beach hottie. They nodded toward Ryder.

The dreadlocked dude moved toward Brandon, pulling the trembling goth into
the sunny part of the room, the candles blowing out, dust scattering from
the furniture to make everything look brighter and more fun. Brandon jerked
back, his natural paleness allergic to this existence, but Ryder reassured
him, hugging him tight and smoothing his tan hands across the pale
flesh. With each caress, a lilt seemed to come to the alabaster surface,
gradually darkening as Brandon first whimpered in pain, then sighed in
relief as his body became used to the sunlight, the change accelerating to
the point where it seemed his relaxing muscles were drinking it in.

Brandon groaned and collapsed into Ryder's arms, the goth hairdo collapsing
as well as it fell about the darkening goth's face, retracting to reveal
features softening, becoming less angular and looking more like those of a
healthy, Southern California teen who loved the outdoors. All the boys
helped get Brandon out of the goth wear, slipping off the black jacket to
reveal a hardening, smooth tan torso, a bit less buff than Skylar's but
athletic as hell. The pants and boots came off to reveal blood red
boardshorts, hanging low to show off sparse blonde pubes. The narrow feet
cracked as they were freed, flexing as they grew and reshaped to a broad
size 11, a hemp anklet around one slender tanned leg. Brandon was purring
now, enjoying this, his lungs sucking in the outdoor air coming through the
now open window and yearning for more. The hair had lightened to a chestnut
brown, still darker than Max and Justin's, but it had some blonde
highlights streaking through it, and it tousled naturally down over his
forehead, ears, and down his neck, still revealing the couple of gold hoops
flashing in his ears, and a small bar in one narrow, brown eyebrow. The
wide shoulders cracked over a triangular, carved surfer torso as Brandon
stood on his own two bare feet, his eyes opening, no longer an electric,
otherworldly blue but a golden-brown that matched his skin tone and hair,
still very pleasing and beautiful. He looked sultry and exotic but still
very much California beach boy, and he had a bright, chill-as-fuck smile on
his now natural features as he strode toward the other two surferboys,
joining them in a three-way kiss. He now stood 5'10", midway between the
other two surfers.

"Brandon, dude, you look awesome!" reassured Ryder as he rubbed a big, bare
foot against the new surfer's own bare feet. "Awww, thanks, man!" exulted
Brandon, "but let's get out of this bummer darkness, dude. Let's get to the
beach!" The other boys cheered, eager to get back to the surf, Brandon
wanting to try out his new athletic muscle.

The trio of surfer lovers ran out of the house, laughing, their strong bare
feet flexing as they scampered, while a content Ryder put his arms around
his emo lover Justin. Justin leaned up to kiss his taller boyfriend's
surfer-looking face, still amused that he had assimilated all the best
parts of Keoni, but he was still definitely the emo skater boy Justin had
met years earlier.

And Ryder knew that everything had worked out for the best, all the boys
now together in Cali in the personas they loved. Nothing could change
that... at least for now?

THE END