A New Perspective

Our university is so stupid. I’m a civil engineering major, and so’s my buddy Jonathan, but for some reason we have to take a bunch of dumb liberal arts classes. So what if they’re easy – they’re also a waste of time.

We signed up for ‘Art Appreciation 101’ thinking it would just be a bunch of boring lectures. It turns out that the professor expected us to go to a museum and then we’re supposed to create our own art project.

Of course we kept putting it off.

It was two weeks til finals when we finally walked up the museum steps. It was a big old building – out of date and totally uninteresting. The kind of thing that should be have demolished and replaced years ago.

We ended up staring at a big painting. The background was white, and there was a thick red line drawn horizontally across the middle of the canvas.

“I hate art,” Jonathan moaned. “It’s all pretentious crap that doesn’t mean anything.”

“For sure,” I agreed. “Like what does it contribute to the world? A little kid could have painted this.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree,” a man said. I turned and noticed him for the first time – an older guy wearing a nice suit and a bow tie. “I’m the curator here, and I believe that art is very important. It feeds the soul. Art makes people into better versions of themselves. It shows us who we really are. It takes you and turns you into something new.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Curator. Like that’s a real job.”

“I decide what comes into the building and what we send away,” the curator replied. “What brings you here today?”

“Some stupid class,” Jonathan told him.

“You two are in Professor Grant’s class, aren’t you? He’s a friend of mine, and I heard he’s got a pretty critical group of students this year. Come with me... we have a new exhibit I think you boys might enjoy.”

“Yeah... we’re in that class, but we don’t want to take up your time,” I said, making an excuse. The last thing I wanted was to get trapped in some grand tour of the museum by this fossil.

“It won’t take long,” the curator said. “I’m just going to show you the door – the journey is entirely yours to decide.”

We gave up and went with him. It seemed easier than arguing, and I didn’t want him calling Professor Grant and making a scene.

He walked us down a flight of stairs and then ducked past a sign that said ‘Museum Staff Only’. He waved us along, encouraging us to follow him until we finally reached a plain white wall with an unremarkable door in the middle.

“It’s an interactive piece,” he said. “I want to see how you react to it. My office is just off the lobby – please feel free to drop in on your way out, if you’d like.”

“Sure,” I lied. We weren’t extending this outing by a millisecond.

“The experience starts when you go through that door,” he said.

“Fine,” Jonathan sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

He pulled open the door and walked through. I followed, letting the door swing shut behind me and leaving us in darkness.

“Okay, now what?” Jonathan said impatiently. “Did that guy forget to turn on the lights or something?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging in the dark. “Maybe we’re just supposed to... experience the dark?”

“This is so dumb,” Jonathan said. I could imagine his eyes rolling.

“What’s that?” I said. I thought I caught a little bit of motion from the corner of my eye. “I thought I saw something!”

“I can’t see shit,” Jonathan moaned. “Wait... no, I think it’s getting lighter in here.”

It was definitely getting lighter. As our eyes adjusted, I realized that we were surrounded by shadowy figures. There had to be a dozen of them, clustered around us in a circle. I spun around to look behind me, and that just seemed to agitate them more.

Jonathan laughed.

“Relax Billy,” he chuckled. “it’s just a bunch of mirrors.”

Sure enough, as the lights continued to come up, I saw we were surrounded by curved mirrors. The sort of thing you might find in a carnival funhouse. The shadow figures were just our reflections, twisted and distorted by the shape of the glass.

“This is kind of cool,” Jonathan said, stepping forward and taking a look at his reflection. He’s a pretty average guy – maybe a little on the chubby side. He had short brown hair, a round face, and in real life he was a bit shorter than me.

But in the mirror he was stretched out. Instead of his squat body, the mirror version of him was at least seven feet tall. Jonathan looked lanky and lean.

“Yeah...” I said, stepping forward and letting it stretch my reflection. I’m around six feet naturally, which means the mirror stretched me so much my head was practically cut off.

I turned and looked in the next mirror. Instead of stretching me, this one compressed. My reflection looked about five feet tall.

As the lights kept getting brighter, we wandered around the whole circle.

“Hey, check out this one,” Jonathan called me over. He found a mirror that made him look fantastic – it stretched him out to over six feet without making him look skinny. The ripples in the glass lined up with his body, making him look like he had more muscle than he actually did.  Some imperfection in the glass even made his face look like a borderline fashion model.

“Nice,” I nodded. Of course my reflection looked horrible in that mirror.

Jonathan stared at his reflection, turning and grinning at himself.

“Stop that,” I sighed. “So what, the mirror makes you good looking. It’s just a trick.”

“It’s a cool effect,” he shrugged, watching a pair of muscular shoulders move and a handsome face grin back from the reflection.

I was about to make fun of him again when I found my mirror. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw how it twisted my image. Instead of the skinny nerd I’d always been, this mirror made me look wide and short. My shoulders were suddenly broad, and my narrow jawline was thick and square.

Something flipped inside my brain.

“Now you got it?” Jonathan asked from across the room. “So far as art goes, this isn’t too bad, right?”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy turning and checking out my body from every angle. It was impossible – the angle didn’t seem to matter. The mirror wasn’t just showing me a distortion... it was showing a whole different version of me.

I wondered how it worked. Maybe these were actually screens or something. You could hide a camera somewhere, run the footage through some algorithm, and project a hotter version back onto the mirror?

That had to be it. I glanced behind me and saw that the mirror had given me a round ass and a wide back. After a lifetime of being told to eat more, I wanted to stay in front of the mirror forever.

“Yeah, okay... this is pretty cool,” I admitted.

“Yeah... but it’s getting too bright in here.”

Jonathan pointed up at the recessed lights in the ceiling. Instead of stopping at a normal brightness, they were getting seriously squintworthy, like someone was shining high powered halogens directly at us.

“You think it’s going to keep getting brighter?” I wondered out loud.

“I think it’s speeding up,” Jonathan said, raising his hand and shielding his eyes. In the mirror, the other version of him mimicked the movement.

A few seconds later the lights flashed, blinding me for a moment. When the spots faded from my eyes I realized that the mirrors had all gone dark and the lights were fading back down again. For a half second I was sad – it was kinda cool seeing what the mirror could make me into.

“Billy, look at yourself,” Jonathan yelped.

I turned and saw him first – my chubby little friend was gone. His body had stretched and grown. He was impossibly tall and athletic. In the mirror he’d been six-two or six-three... he seemed so much taller now.

I looked down and my heart skipped a beat. Jonathan wasn’t just taller – I was shorter. Whatever that flash had done, my body had been replaced by a distorted mirror version too!

“That’s impossible,” I gasped, staring down at my beefy new body.

“It’s got to be holograms or something,” Jonathan suggested, trying to find a rational explanation. “Maybe that flash was some sort of laser projector and it’s making us see... this?”

I ran my hands down my torso. It didn’t just look short and beefy – it felt that way too.

“I don’t think it’s lasers...” I said, squeezing my now-thick pecs. “This feels legit...”

“Yeah, but it can’t be real,” Jonathan insisted. “Shit, it’s getting dark in here again.”

We went back and forth, trying to find an explanation. Eventually the lights faded totally until I couldn’t see a damn thing. I took the opportunity to slide my hand down below my waistline and feel my dick. Like I suspected... short and stubby, just like the rest of me.

I heard a click and saw a sudden light as a door swung open automatically. Maybe that was the end of it – walk into a room, play with some mirrors, and get to feel what it’d be like to look different. Definitely more interesting than a red line on a white canvas.

I saw Jonathan’s silhouette heading for the door. With his new height, I had to hurry to catch up. We stepped out of the exhibit – and into another room.

“Okay... what now?” he asked.

Apparently the exhibit was a series of rooms. This one was painted white and had light blue lines painted on the walls, making the whole room look like it had been wallpapered with a giant sheet of graph paper. In the centre of the room there was a podium with a dark sphere on it.

“I don’t get it...” Jonathan said, staring at the sphere. “What is this supposed to be? Some kind of puzzle?”

“We’re smart guys,” I said reassuringly. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

The sphere started to flash slowly. For the first minute or two it was tolerable, but after that I had to look away at the graph paper walls. The overhead lights dimmed and soon the sphere was the only light source in the room. Every thirty seconds or so it would go dark before letting off a huge flash of light.

“It’s a strobe light...” Jonathan said, stating the obvious.

“A really slow strobe light,” I agreed.

“Hey, look at this,” he said, pointing at one of the squares on the wall. “There’s something written here?”

I walked over and looked. One of the squares had been filled in with a wavy line, red against the white background.

“Huh, it’s a sine wave,” I said, looking at the mark on the wall.

“What’s a sine wave?” Jonathan asked. He sounded totally sincere, but there was no way. We’ve both taken a lot of math, and even high school kids know what a sine wave looks like.

“Um... it’s a kind of function that repeats regularly between the values of –“

The strobe light pulsed again behind us. After a half second of darkness I found myself staring at the wall again. That squiggly red line Jonathan pointed out was there, along with a squiggly green line in the square next to it.

“I don’t get it,” Jonathan said. “What’s a sine wave?”

“Uh... I dunno,” I shrugged. Whatever he was saying, I didn’t have a clue. The line he was pointing at looked cool, but I didn’t know it had a special name or whatever.

“Huh, okay,” he shrugged. “Just seemed like you knew.”

The light strobed again. A couple more of the squares had filled in – it was like the light was passing right through our heads and imprinting on the wall. Jonathan had the Pythagorean theorem written out in a square, while I had a picture of some old dude in my square. I think it was like... the dollar bill guy?

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked, staring at the picture of the old guy. “Did you draw that?”

“Nah,” I said. “I don’t even know who that is...”

“Everyone knows that,” Jonathan said with a smirk. “It’s –“

Another flash of the light. It was getting faster.

“It’s uh... it’s...”

It was gone, flashed out of his head and painted on the wall in front of him.

“Jonathan...” I said nervously. “I think... maybe this thing is taking stuff out of our heads.”

The light flashed again. I only had a couple seconds to see what it took this time. I read the word written in the newest box.

“Cell... see... us?” I asked Jonathan, sounding out the difficult word.

“Shit...” Jonathan said, suddenly looking very worried. “I think you’re right, it’s making us –“

Another flash. It was every two seconds now. Every second.

“Dude... it’s making us forget stuff!” I cried out. “We gotta get outta here!”

The light was going faster and faster. Many times a second now. I could see squares filling in really really fast now. It was too much for me to even try to hold on – pictures, words, symbols... all of it was getting flashed out of our heads.

I glanced over at Jonathan. The strobe light made him look like he was moving real slow. I guess I looked slow too. I tried to move outta the way, but the light flashed in every direction... I couldn’t escape it. Every time I moved, more and more squares filled up on the walls.

We were painting the room with all the stuff we knew...

All the stuff we used to know...

I glanced over at Jonathan. He looked like... really confused. He was trying to read the walls, trying to cram some of that stuff back into his head.

There was just like... so much of it. I felt my head get lighter and lighter, all those dumb thoughts getting stripped away til I could just... like... I felt really good, you know?

I was almost sad when the light stopped. It kinda had to, y’know? The walls were absolutely covered in weird writing.

“What’s a ‘load factor’?” Jonathan asked, staring at the words.

“Who cares?” I shrugged. “None of this stuff means anything.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, mirroring my shrug. “I’m just tryin’ to learn.”

I didn’t really know what to say. Learning was dumb... duh, right? Or....

Lucky the next door opened and I got to stop thinkin’ about that stuff.

My tall buddy walked through first and I followed him. The next room was different – instead of the strobe light or whatever, this one had a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, covered in lots of little mirrors. There were some glass things hanging from the ceiling. It didn’t take long for the lights to start doing their thing.

Bright beams of white light shone through the glass thingies, breaking into a bunch of colours. Rainbows spread through the room, turning the whole place technicolour.

One of the lights hit me in the chest. It didn’t hurt or nothin’, but it felt super weird. Like... suddenly there were a dozen different versions of me standing around the room. A bro with a backwards cap and a muscle-fit tee, dressed all in pink. A weightlifter in nothing but a yellow stringer tank and a pair of tiny little yellow shorts, absolutely shredded and pumped up. A twinky little version wearing a baby blue hoodie and matching sweat pants that showed off his plump ass.

I looked down. I was dressed all in black, with a black t-shirt and tight black jeans and a gold chain. I pulled my phone outta my back pocket and took a look in the camera... my hair was totally fierce, fluffed up the way I like it for my TikTok’s.

I felt fuckin’ great. And that was before the music started! Pounding disco music flooded the room and the disco ball started spinning, making the light dance across our faces.

There were a dozen of me and a dozen of Jonathan. I didn’t know which one was real – was it the guy dressed like he was gonna go play basketball for the purplest team ever? Or was it the one dressed all in red leather?

“Bro, check it out!” the pink bro version of me yelled.

“Wait, you can talk?” the blue twink asked. “Like... are you real?”

“Who cares?” laughed a maroon version of Jonathan. He was dressed up like he was going for a night on the town. “There’s music and there’s dudes... let’s dance!”

I couldn’t resist starting to lay down some of the latest dance moves. Maybe one of these guys would film me... or maybe we could do like a big coordinated number? This would totally go viral.

We moved our bodies to the beat and lost track of time. Surrounded by all the different versions of me, it felt so weird. The only thing we had in common was the carefree smile that floated across our faces.

I glanced from Jonathan to Jonathan. They were having the time of his life.

Something about the colours were changing. I glanced up at those glass things and saw they were turning slowly as we danced. The beams of lights were hitting them different and one by one the colours they reflected went away.

And the guys we were dancing with flickered out of existence too. One by one they vanished – the pink bro, the yellow bodybuilder, the purple one wearing the soccer jersey. I watched it happen to Jonathan too – all the different versions of him merging together until...

We were standing there wearing all white. I looked down at myself – I was like the mashup of all those guys or whatever. Little soccer shorts and a deep stringer tank that showed off the gold chain hanging between my muscular pecs. I checked my hair with my phone – there was a mop of baby blue hair that made me think about cotton candy covered by a backwards cap.

Jonny was back to normal too – a white leather jacket over a white mesh t-shirt, a pair of tight white jeans with a white pair of basketball hi-tops on his feet. His white-blond hair was spiked up in a messy cut.

“Whoa,” he laughed. “Like... what just happened?”

“I dunno,” I grinned back, shrugging my wide shoulders. “I just feel like... totally cool bro.”

“Yeah dude, for sure!” Jonny said happily. I looked around eagerly – what was next? This art exhibit was like... totally trippy. Really interesting stuff, right?

We sorta stood there, just hanging out with happy grins. Eventually there was a click and another door swung open.

“Race you!” I yelled, sprinting for the door. I beat Jonny by like... half a stride. Dude’s tall as shit, but little guys have that dense muscle, y’know? I spend like... forever in the gym, but it’s totes worth it!

The next room was super cool.

There were dicks coming outta the walls. Not like... all the walls. Just three dicks, poking through holes on the opposite side of the room. I never wanted a dick before, but bro...

My mouth was watering. I couldn’t resist. I picked a big latin dick and rushed for it. I didn’t want Jonny to steal my spot! I didn’t waste any time crashing down to my knees and wrapping my lips around the pole.

God, it smelled so good. I don’t know why I never got this close to dick before... it was so delicious. So beautiful. So familiar. What was I talkin’ about, I’m a total cockhound. Taking a deep whiff of some dude’s balls is like... my favourite thing.

I swallowed the cock down eagerly, doing my best to pleasure every single inch. For a second I glanced over and saw that Jonny was busy sucking on a black cock, lapping it up like a thirsty man in the desert.

He flashed me a broad smile... or as close as he could get, given the giant cock between his lips. I gave him a thumbs up, making sure he knew how much I loved sucking cock.

It was like... way too soon when the latin cock started throbbing, spewing thick cum across my face. I licked at it, but there was too much to swallow. I loved that taste so much...

Jonny slumped down against the wall, a glassy look in his eyes. There was a big glob of cum dripping down his cheek and onto his leather jacket.

There was another click. The door was open, ready for us to go through...

But there was still one more cock. I glanced at Jonny and raised an eyebrow. When you’re club buddies like Jonny and me, you get pretty good at talking without talking, y’know?

He grinned back at me and we both moved for that last cock. I took a long sniff down it’s length while he licked under the cockhead. This cock was uncircumcised, so I paid special attention to the sensitive parts near the head.

Jonny and I are pretty good buddies, y’know? Even sucking down a cock, I couldn’t keep my hands off him too. I let my hands slip under his jacket and feel the rough fabric of his mesh top. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, massaging me gently under the bill of my cap.

We kissed deeply, pressing our mouths together over the thick cock. I couldn’t decide what to do – lick the cock or french kiss Jonny... whatever, thinking’s too hard, I just gave up and let my body go into a wild frenzy.

I got lucky. When the cock finally shot its load it went right down my throat. Jonny kissed me, trying to get a little of the cum for himself. I didn’t even notice when the cock vanished into its hole – I was too busy making out with Jonny.

My cock was rock hard as we finally helped eachother up off the floor. I could see his was hard too, tenting outta his jeans.

“I guess we oughta check out the next room,” Jonny grinned. “I like this museum.”

“For sure bro,” I nodded. “All the art is like... totally cool.”

“Dude, Professor Grant is totally gonna need more than that!” Jonny laughed. “You’ve gotta write like... a whole page about our museum visit! C’mon!”

Jonny took my hand and pulled me through the door. We stumbled out from the cock room and into a crowded space. There were ticket counters and a big line of people and a snack counter and stuff.

“Whoa...” I said, staring around. “What happens here?”

“Wait... I recognize this...” Jonny said, scrunching up his forehead hard. “This is like... the lobby dude! We totally made it through!”

“Awesome!” I cheered automatically. “So you wanna... uh... go back to my dorm? I’m horny bro... and bros gotta fuck!”

“Totally...” Jonny said. I could see him figuring stuff out in his head. Jonny’s like... totally smarter than me. “But like... I’m feeling inspired dude. Let’s go to the studio... make some art, okay?”

“But I’m horny...” I whined.

“Don’t worry,” Jonny smirked. “Trust me Billy, I know what I’m doin’.”

I grinned. Guys like me, we don’t gotta think about stuff. I got Jonny for that.

“Excuse me boys,” I heard. There was that curator guy standing behind us, giving us a satisfied look. “It looks like you enjoyed the new exhibition.”

“For real bro,” I grinned wildly. “It was like... totally life changing.”

“I had a feeling,” the curator said mildly. “Art has a way of helping people find a new perspective. I hope you enjoyed what you experienced.”

“Bro, I’m gonna bring like... all my friends,” I promised. “But not right now, okay? Jonny and I are gonna hit up the studio... make a little art ourselves.”

“Excellent,” the curator grinned. “I hope your visit inspired you.”

“Yeah bro,” I grinned, twitching my dick at him through my thin shorts. “We’re like... totally inspired.”

------------------

It took us like two hours to get to the art studio at school. Jonny and I got kicked off the bus when I tried to jack him off so we ended up walking most of the way. It was so unfair... I was subtle and everything!

The studio is setup for students and there’s lots of materials there we can use. I never really understood why most of that stuff was there before, but now I understood – art was more than just paint and clay and stuff. Sometimes it’s just about feeling good.

Jonny had me strip down to fuck – I tossed my stringer and my shorts on the floor, then dropped my thong down next to them. I left the hat – I don’t fuck without it.

While I was getting naked, Jonny was mixing up a bucket of red pant.

“Okay bro, flex,” he ordered. I thought he was gonna paint me for a second, but the fucker actually threw the bucket right at my chest. Paint dripped down over my cock and down my legs.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Trust me,” Jonny grinned. He pulled out a big piece of canvass on a wood frame and leaned it up against the wall, sandwiching it with a box of supplies. He motioned for me to go over to the canvas.

“Like this?” I asked, letting my cock brush against the material. A thick red line spread across the white background.

“Like this,” he grinned, pushing his bare cock against my ass. My hips shifted forward and I felt the paint smearing across the canvas, leaving a big red blot where I’d made contact. I lost my balance for a second, so my hand landed high on the painting. A big red handprint.

“I wanna fuck you Billy,” he whispered in my ear.

“Do it bro,” I laughed. “You don’t gotta get dramatic!”

“Yeah I do,” he said, kissing down the back of my neck. “This isn’t just fucking B... it’s art.”

I felt his cock slip inside my hole. My knees went weak with the feeling and I felt my chest slide against the canvas. My pecs would leave big red prints... I hoped the nipples would show up.

I planted my other hand against the rough material.

“Fuck me bro,” I begged. “Fuck me with your stud cock!”

I grunted as Jonny thrust himself deep into my ass. I opened up easily for him... of course I did... we fuck like... constantly...

But somehow it felt like the first time.

“I love you babe,” Jonny grunted as he fucked me hard. “I love you. You’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

“Uh huh,” I moaned. Hell yeah, I was perfect. Just a dumb muscle slut, getting his ass railed by his boyfriend. Everyone wants to be me.

I bucked my hips mindlessly, painting our passion onto the canvas. Preserving our lust for everyone to see. That’s what I love about art... it makes me think deep shit like that.

Finally I gasped, blowing my load all over the painting. Mixing my cum into the red paint so I’d be a part of the piece forever.

Jonny blew his load into me, pushing me against the canvas one last time. We stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the concrete.

“Mmmmm,” I moaned, rolling over so my cheek pressed against the cool floor.

“Look at that bro,” Jonny said, sitting up and staring at the painting. You could see the outline of my muscles as Jonny had smashed me against the wall. At a glance, you’d probably think it was just a blob of red paint... but when you looked closely...

You could see our love.

------------------

We stopped at the registrar on Monday.

I mean, yeah, engineers make good money and stuff, but the classes were totally boring. Jonny and I talked it over in bed... we were switching our majors to art. Professor Grant seemed really pleased when we told him.

I pulled up my insta and showed him pics of our project. He was really happy with what he saw. He took a long look at my dick print, clearly outlined with red paint.

“This is great boys,” he smiled. “I’m so pleased with how you embraced the assignment. Sometimes people don’t take my class seriously, but it seems like both of your have learned a lot. I think it’s safe to say you’ll be getting an A.”

“And a ‘D’ later,” I laughed.

Yeah, it’s not mature, but so what? Art is about honesty. It’s about putting a piece of yourself on display and using it to teach the world. It’s about communicating who you really are. It’s about finding yourself.

I glanced over at Jonny. He was dressed in his white leather jacket and a paint speckled black tee. Tight black jeans and a pair of black hi-tops. It’s his ‘serious artist’ look.

I don’t worry about looking serious. My job is inspiration – orange shorts and a black mesh tanktop. Blue hair under my signature white ball cap. When Jonny looks at me, I can tell he’s thinking about our next project together. He’s always covering me in paint or spraying me with glitter or making a plaster mold of my cock...

Some of our classmates think it’s too much. Like we’re some kind of deviants cause we’re proud of our bodies and our sexuality. But I don’t worry about the haters. There’s still hope for them.

They just need a new perspective.

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I hope everyone enjoys this one – once I got the idea, I just couldn't stop writing.  Let me know what you think in the comments!  –D