Just a white collar chub interested in a blue collar life. Can anyone help? Love transformation stories especially involving weight gain, nerdification, rich to poor, body swap, chaos, scallies. rednecks, blue collar, and bears
Clint was warming up and stretching when he heard the first shout of his name, glancing over his shoulder Clint could see the football coach and Clint couldn't help but roll his eyes. He had heard the football team had lost a few of its members to injury and that the coach was looking to replace them and Clint could not think of anything worse. Clint was a track star, he had been sprinting the 400m for years and had won several national competitions. That's how he managed to get a scholarship to a top university along with a generous donation from his parents. There was no way he was going to lower himself and become a 'bulldog' and be around the other lumps of dumb muscle.
Clint heard his name being called again and still he pretended like he didn't hear, once he was stretched out he would start running and there would be no way the dumpy little coach would catch up to him. However, if Clint had bothered to acknowledge the coach then he would have seen the already out of breath middle aged man jogging over to before standing in front of the sneering Clint.
"Clint Simmons? Yeah I thought it was you. I was calling ya champ, did you not hear me?" the coach said red-faced.
"I guess not" Clint said barely even looking at the coach as he continued to stretch.
"Oh... errr well, I needed to talk to you. You are the fastest guy we've got here and I am in desperate need of a wide receiver, there would be no way anyone would catch you. Have you ever played footba-" The coach said with ethusiasm until he was cut off by Clint.
"I'm going to stop you there coach. Hell would have to freeze over before I joined your team. My body is a trained, discipline and a refined machine and it isn't going to be jumped on, slammed in and headbutted by your gang of glorified thugs. While those apes you train are out there grunting and concussing, I’m breaking records with actual grace, skill and talent." Clint said and turned to the coach smugly "I run alone but if you want to keep chatting, try to keep up"
Clint then started running with a satisifed smile on his face, leaving the coach red with either anger or embarassement, Clint didn't really care although he swore he heard the coach mutter under his breathe "You will be on my team you arrogant prick"
Clint just smiled as he start running at pace, the joy he felt as everything rushed passed him, the wind in his hair, the adrenaline of his muscles surging as he sped around the track, it was exhilarating. However, what was not so joyous was the heat coming from Clint's body and the vast amount of sweat he was expelling from nearly every part of his body.
Clint tried to run it off but the more he ran the more he sweated. Heavy droplets ran down his face and soaked his hair, his top and shorts were more than damp they were sopping wet and now every part of him glistened with moisture. Clint felt disgusting, he had never produced this much sweat not even after the longest, hardest training session let alone within a minute of him starting to run. Clint grimaced as the sweat ran into his right eye causing it to sting and for him to slow down. Without much of a choice Clint removed his top just to wipe away the sweat from his eyes so he could see and run straight.
Clint had now done a full circuit of the track and was soaked through, drops of sweat rained from him with every powerful step he took, he wanted to stop but then he saw the coach still waiting and forced himself to keep going. The last thing he needed was a lecture from some fat football coach. So even though it looked like he had taken a dip in a pool and was leaving a trail of sweat behind him Clint kept running, much to the coach's delight.
As Clint ran he found himself feeling unbalanced, his stride suddenly felt off and he found it harder to keep his pace up. Maybe he was getting sick? But as he ran he felt as if his body was moving more, like parts of him were jiggling and wobbling. His pecs didn't feel as controlled and his arms didn't feel as toned as he pumped them, it was almost as if they were larger, heavier, fatter.
Clint didn't like the feeling but the last thing he wanted to do was give up in front of the coach, he could only imagine how smug he would be if he had to stop, so still Clint powered on through the sweat, heat and the horrible sluggish feeling.
Clint was barely a quarter way around the track when he found himself slowing down even further, his stomach no longer felt right as if it was sloshing and bouncing around, his chest hurt as his pectorals now felt like they were flopping up and down with every step and suddenly Clint felt like his thighs were chafing which they had never done. Clint let a groan as his legs started to hurt and his body got even harder to move.
After another 100m Clint was almost on the verge of collapse, sweat was pouring down his body like a waterfall and a nasty smell was now hitting his nostrils every time he pumped his arms and unleashed his pits. Every part of him felt tired and now Clint could tell something was very wrong as his body wobbled like jelly with every step. He felt exhausted, he felt tired and worse of all he felt slow.
Clint let out a gasp of pain as his legs burned and somehow the ground felt like it was further away, now every step felt ginormous and labourous, like he was lifting tree trunks instead of his slim, toned runners legs.
Clint felt himself slowing down as he could no longer keep his pace, his breathing was rapid and every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop, his body felt heavier, softer and foreign to him as he slowed to a cumbersome jog. Clint knew he had to stop, something was very, very wrong.
Clint finally let himself stop and when he did and finally looked down at his body, his arms, his chest, his legs, his belly, and he screamed. Clint grabbed at his new giant, obese body as if to check it was really his own. "No no no no no" was all Clint could mutter as he grabbed at his once muscular legs, the parts of his body he had spent so long training to perfection were now buried in layers and layers of fat which now awkwardly pushed his legs apart making running forever uncomfortable. Clint also felt like a giant, he must of grown at least a foot in height as he now felt off balance and everything seemed further away. Clint grabbed his face and felt the fullness in his cheeks and the bloated double chin he permanently sported and almost cried. His chest was no longer perky pectorals but instead chubby tits that now sat on a round, sagging belly. Clint grabbed at the gut that he now sported and whimpered as his hands sunk into the soft flesh, this was all him! He had gained nearly 150 pounds of fat in a few minutes, his track career was over! What was he going to do? How was this possible?! It was then that the football coach waddled over to him smiling.
The coach grinned before saying "Oh I forgot to mention the team is also looking for a new defensive lineman, I wonder if you could help us out with that?"
At first Clint was shocked at what the coach was asking but soon he pieced everything together and who was responsible for his new size and weight.
"You did this to me!" Clint screamed pointing at the coach
Clint's face flushed with anger "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! How dare you, you fat little fuck! Nobody touches me! I am the fucking star here, I own this track and look what you've done to me all to be on your loser team! My parents donate more money to this pathetic college in a year than your whole salary for life! One phone call from my dad and your ass is FIRED, coach! FIRED! No not just fired, in prison. You'll be behind bars by fucking lunch. I'M CALLING THE POLICE RIGHT NOW! You hear me?! My family has the BEST lawyers in the state on speed dial! They're gonna bury you! You'll never work again! This is ASSAULT! This an assault on my FUTURE! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! You're fucking DONE!" Clint finished red faced and was about to go grab his phone.
However, before Clint could take a step the coach just sighed. "I had hoped you would join willingly but I see you leave me with no other choice, that means a lot of paperwork for me." The coach then let out a deep breath before putting his hands on his hips and saying "I thought you would be happy to join my team, I mean a guy of your size is built for football?"
Clint was about to start yelling again when suddenly his brain felt foggy, his anger dwindled and the question echoed in his head as he felt confused.
Clint tried to think clearly, he was angry and mad but why was that? Being so tall and overweight had been hard for him, he had been bullied and called names and everyone picked a fight with him, that was until he started playing football and he finally found something he was good at. He had never been good at anything and school was hard until he started tackling and practising after school. Clint then shook his head violently, "No, no that's not true" Clint said to himself as he tried to grasp onto his old reality, the one where he was popular and beloved but instead he had hurtful memories of being called butter ball and guys twisting his nipples on his huge fat man boobs. Clint's mind slowed down as memories of acing classes disappeared and instead low grades and barely scraping by replaced them, he wasn't dumb was he?
Coach then continued "I would think you would be calling your parents, they will be so proud you made the team. I am sure its what they dreamed off when the immigrated here, you are going to be living the American dream son!"
Clint hit his head as if to try and squish the memories that were invading his mind while his skin started to darken and his hair started to curl. Clint's memory of his wealthy parents was replaced with his new mama and papa who travelled over from Ghana nearly 20 years ago. Clint wanted to scream as his rich privileged life was rewritten into that of a working class struggle, his parents held no power, had little money but still were so proud of their son playing football at college on a scholarship.
Clint knew it was wasn't true but his old life, his old friends, old family, his old memories, running track, training relentlessly, all of it seemed to be fading away and instead new memories were taking there place. Clint found it harder to think, harder to remember his old self and found it hard to stay in control, like something or someone else was begininng to take over. Clint's skin had now darkened to a deep rich brown, his lifes were larger and his hair was jet black and was tightly curled.
Coach could see that his newest player was nearly done "I hope you are happy too Kofi, its a big step being put on the first team but you have shown that you can stop almost anyone with your size and bulk, I'd be a fool not to have you on my team." Coach then placed his hand on his new defensive lineman.
Clint wailed internally as the last of him was rewritten and the little voice that was Clint was pushed to the back of his mind as a passenger in Kofi's body. The giant athlete took deep laboured breaths as he felt a mixture of happiness and confusion. Kofi was proud to have made his coach happy but something at the back of his mind was telling him something was wrong, but what could it be?
"You ok champ? You in a bit of shock from the news? Ah I know what it is, you can't see yourself as bulldog without being dressed like one."
While Kofi was too stunned or too dumb to care, Clint watched as his body was suddenly covered by his new uniform and gear, his new number on his back, his new life ahead of him as the defensive lineman for the bulldogs, crashing and bashing into any poor soul that dared to pass him. While his old life was nothing but a memory that only he could recall.
The coach grinned happily "Now let's get you over to the field so we can practise some drills." Coach said leading Kofi over to the football field a place prevoiusly foreign to Clint but now a place Kofi spent most of his life.
In the middle of the field Kofi turned to the coach and let out a dumb laugh and smile "Thank you for this opportunity coach, it's like a dream come true. I don't know what I would have done with me life if it wasn't for football!" Kofi then turned and started walking down the field to begin training, his huge bulk imposing, cumbersome and slow.
Coach laughed hard as he imagined Clint's screaming little voice at the back of Kofi's mind.
The coach then watched his new player walk away and muttered "Another 20 pounds couldn't help, don't want you to get any ideas about running again" The coach then chuckled as he watched Kofi's ass swell as each cheek became the size of a wobbling, fat beach ball making Kofi's legs even more powerful but making it look and feel ridiculous for him to run anything but a short distance.
Kofi adjusted his stance as his enromous butt jiggled and gave him a deep wedgie, while Clint sobbed helplessly never able to do they thing he loved most ever again and trapped in a body and life he never wanted.
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Forced Fitness
When my brother suggested we swap bodies, I thought it would be amazing! I've always had a chubby body, with a little bit of fat here and there, almost like squishies. No matter how much I've dieted or exercised, the result is always the same: a damn belly and tight clothes (and not the way I'd like).
My brother, on the other hand, has a slimmer, well-defined, and attractive body, always at the gym, wearing clothes that show off everything, and that plump ass that looks like a cake. That's why I accepted without hesitation when he made the proposal. I thought it would all be mine: His biceps, his abs, all his tight clothes, those soft, attractive glutes, perfect for going out to pick up guys at a bar at night.
But all I've been doing is repeating exercise after exercise at the gym, damn it! I can't control my new body, it's like I'm on autopilot, lifting weights, doing squats and push-ups nonstop. My thighs are killing me, this fat ass is burning, all my muscles are screaming in agony, ugh!
I want my body back. This isn't what I wanted, damn it, damn it. I don't know why I agreed to swap bodies with him! And I don’t have even the slightest idea of what the hell he wants my body for. What's the point of all this?! Shit, here comes another rep, for God's sake, no! I swear I'm going to pass out from exhaustion, I can't take it anymore. FUCK!
Why did I swap bodies with my chubby brother? Meh. I was fed up with all the dieting, all the protein, exercises that left my body numb and sore. I loved the rewards, but not the work to get them. So... Why not have someone else do all the hard work while I sit back and relax? My brother already has a pig's body, oink oink, hahaha! Now I can eat all the food I want: Pizza, burgers, pasta, everything! Without worrying for a single second about calories, sugar, or fat. I can even go to a freaking buffet and eat the whole plate if I want. Haha!
Anyway, it's not like this body is going to get any fatter than it already is. I have to admit I kind of like how my belly bounces every time I move, haha, it's like having a balloon stuck to me! HAHAHA
Oops. My pizza's here, great, I was starving. Maybe my brother can keep up the training for a couple of months; I don't think he'll mind living my life on my terms.
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Hey everyone!
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I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
I love your stories bro! So I have always been obsessed with muscle and what to be a really huge bodybuilder. Like a super roided out pro guy. You think you could help with that?
A hexer can always help those who ask for aid. But everything has a price, my friend, are you ready to pay it?
You just sent your ask. Where were you? On your bed, scrolling down your phone while dreaming of being a muscular beast? Maybe you were on a bus, or the metro, too invested in your fantasies to care about anything around you, to care about the possible consequences of your desires. Indeed, it doesn't matter where you were, or where you weren't.
Your fate is already set in stone.
Home, sweet home. You arrived there, seeking the comfort of the familiar. Maybe to jack off to one of the multiple bodybuilders you admire and envy. Yet, a surprise. On your kitchen there was something waiting for you.
It was a chastity cage. It was made to your exact measurements. Next to it, a note. Written with impeccable and old fashioned cursive calligraphy:
If you want to grow, wear this. Each day you wear it, your manhood shall shrink. But you will grow in might and power. Wear it, and let your wish come true.
From a helping friend.
Your hand trembled as you finished reading. You knew it's real. The paper was fancy, lightly scented: Cedar, sandalwood, leather and a touch of ginger and vanilla. You closed your eyes, and you could envision a future you. Another self that had nothing to do with your current weakness. Someone who was everything you ever dreamed of.
The pink chastity cage was soon in your hands. Before you knew it, you were in your bathroom. Clothes off, standing in front of your mirror. Chest heaving with anticipation.
Slowly, either out of fear or reverence, you opened the cage. Certain you would fit perfectly inside. As if the cage had been made exclusively for you. A gulp. This was the chance you were waiting for, and whatever consequences could this bring are not of your concern. Your heart was already set before your mind got a chance to argue. No matter what, you wanted to grow, to be swole in muscles most men could never achieve.
The plastic felt cold at the touch. You positioned the cage around your cock. With a click, you closed it. Your breathing went still, your heart almost stopped beating.
Then, you felt it.
The cage, that was the perfect fit when you put it on, began to contract. Pushing your flesh into itself. A gasp of pain left your mouth, as your hands tried desperately to get rid of the cage. But the plastic did not wield to your hands. There was no lock, but you couldn't open it no matter how hard you tried.
You fell to your knees, a tortured scream leaving your lips. Yet, as quick as the pain began, it was gone. Standing up, with agitated respiration, you checked the damage.
Your decently sized cock, until today about 6 inches, had been reduced in size. One inch less. You knew it. As all men would, you were aware of how it's been shrunk. Even if an inch normally wasn't a tremendous thing, it did felt like it was when your cock is the one who lost it.
Any lamentation you felt was immediately replaced by shock, however. Your spine and legs cracked, extending upwards. Not many, but very noticeable four inches added to your height. Changes didn't stop there, however. Your shoulders broadened with muscle. Your biceps took a pleasant shape that wasn't there before. The veins in your forearms grew more evident, thick and manly. Your pecs extended forwards, growing heavier. Your butt cheeks inflated nicely. Your quads thickened, your calves grew.
As if, in an instant, you had trained at the gym for a least a year. Your face, as the mirror shows you, has also suffered modifications. It has broadened, giving you a stronger appearance, but also a less intelligent one. Your skin was not as smooth as it was previously, with acne making an act of presence.
But not just that: your ballsack has tightened, and the balls inside are slightly smaller. Alongside the acne and prominent veins, it's clear you've used steroids. Your body began to sweat, the stench growing more intense than it had ever been before.
The cage felt more pressing. Your cock had tried to harden, but the pink plastic made you unable. Evidently, cumming was out of the question for the moment.
A final change happened before you were able to collect your bearings. Your thoughts slowed, your mind growing foggier and simpler. You weren't dumb. Not yet. But you could notice you were dumber than you were before. The look your eyes had was empty, vacant. You smiled. Your teeth were healthy, but imperfect.
The natural thing to do was to flex. You' were bigger than you've ever been. But you weren't as big as you've wanted. You looked more like a swimmer, or maybe a soccer player. Lean, sculpted muscles. Aesthetically pleasing, but not huge.
Each day you wear it... You remembered the note. You almost felt a voice in your head reminding you. Each day you wore the cage, you'd grow more.
With a big grin, you tried to get out of the cage again. But no dice. It seemed it would only open when it wanted to. You shrugged, and decided to do something else. Since jacking off to your improved physique wasn't an option...
No thoughts passed your mind as you ended up in front of a gym. You didn't remember how you got there, or why your feet took you there. But you didn't waste time thinking and hastily walked inside.
Waiting, was Oliver. He was tiny. Barely 5'0 feet tall. With a delicate lithe physique. He had a bubble butt, as the mirror behind him showed you. Yet, you looked at the front way more. Despite Oliver's puny body, the bulge on his skimpy shorts was vert prominent. Way more than yours. You felt your cheeks heating up.
"So you've arrived," Oliver said, squeezing your bicep with appreciation, a smile on his full lips. "I was informed you'd come by our mutual friend. Don't tell me your name. I don't need it. Muscle sluts such as you don't deserve a name that hasn't been given to them by their masters. So, until I name you properly, you'll have no name. Understood?"
A part of you wanted to say no. A part of you wanted to punch him, to show him his place. He was puny, you were strong. But instead of imposing your will, you smiled stupidly and nodded. You couldn't remember any name you answered to, anyway.
"Good boy. Now, let's make you sweat. Muscles sluts such as you must workout. Come on, follow me."
Oliver guided you to the locker room. He gave you some clothes that were perfect for your taller and broader body. He then showed you a pink thong. A glimmering thong you'd seen bodybuilders use in competitions. Although it looked more like a stripper tongue, due to how shiny it was.
"When you're ready, I'll give you this thong and a name. Now, change and make me proud," Oliver said, forcing you to lean down so he could kiss you.
For hours, you did a grueling workout. Your sweat making your skin shine like glass. Your stench so intense no one but Oliver wanted to be around you.
He didn't allow you to get distracted. Despite how easy it was to do so. Oliver's huge bulge was so magnetic you began to salivate the moment you saw it. He didn't let you look, forcing you to focus on working out.
It was night when Oliver allowed you to leave. Exhausted you returned home. You showered, unable still to get rid of the cage. You wanted to jack off so badly, but there was no way you could.
Thus, you decided to sleep. It was good for muscle building, or so you had heard. Sleep came easily, despite how blue balled you were getting.
When you woke up, the cage wasn't on your cock anymore. It was next to your head, on your pillow. And another note beside the cage. Curiosity stopped you from jerking your reduced cock, despite how much you wanted to cum.
You did good, my friend. Did you like the little master I sent your way? It doesn't matter, he owns you now. Wear the cage, my friend. And don't cum. If you do, the magic won't work anymore. Wear the cage, and you'll be a titan amongst men.
Hesitant, you looked at the cage. Pink, now exactly the measure of your five incher. Yesterday it had been bigger. If you wore it, you'd grow muscular, but you'd lose another inch... Maybe more...
And you wanted to cum so badly...
Your dilemma didn't last, however. Your heart had but one desire, and you'd get it no matter the cost.
So you ignored your hard on, and did your best to put your cock inside the cage again. With some difficulty, you achieved it.
The same pain of yesterday returned, dulled somewhat. No pain, no gain. But, instead of a single inch, it took two. Your five inches of prick dwindled to three. You panicked, but before you could come to terms with officially owning a micro penis, the changes you actually wanted began to take place.
A crack, and you grew taller once again. Multiple inches. Way past the four inches you had expected. Until you were officially a giant, at 6'8", maybe 6'9". Your feet had abandoned the mattress, dangling, as your body was too long for your bed.
Then, your balls shrank and retracted towards your body. They were so tiny now.
Afterwards, your hands changed. They grew bigger. Thick. Calluses appeared on your palms, from lifting weights most likely. Your palms were veiny. Your fingers thick like sausages. Nails short, irregular. As if you just cared about cutting them, without taking the time of doing it neatly.
Your forearms thickened with muscle. Then your biceps. Veins pushing against your skin more prominent than ever. Your shoulders broadened once more, completely turning your torso into an inverted triangle shape. Your neck thickened. Your pecs, already big, ballooned out. Heavy, pliant while squeezed, hard when flexed. Your nipples hardened and grew, extending out like little cocks.
Your stomach also grew heavier. Slightly outwards, even if it was still lean. Your abs were visible even without flexing, even with bad lighting. Your butt inflated, as if someone put pillows inside your flesh. Your ass cheeks grew slowly but constantly, until you had a bubbly butt of your own. So big and round you'd never have an easy time buying pants again, and sitting down would always be comfortable.
Thighs followed suit. So thick they'll always touch each other from now on. Destroying any pants you wore as they rubbed each other when you walked. Veins also made themselves more visible. Your calves widened outwards. Your legs so thick with muscles no one would ever accuse you of missing leg day.
At last, your feet grew bigger. Easily 4 sizes over what you had yesterday. They were thick, veiny, with stubby thick toes. Smelly too, as you poor nose had the luck to learn.
Your body hair retracted into your body, until your skin was as smooth as a baby's. Except for the acne on your face and back. Body hair was not good for bodybuilding, as it obscured the muscles.
Age left you again. You were now definitely in your early twenties. College education abandons you. As well as your job, whatever it used to be.
Now you had two jobs. One at construction, and another as a fitness enthusiast on social media. Although the second one was mostly recording Tik Toks of you flexing and giving motivational yet empty talks. It didn't matter what you say, only that you flexed while saying it. With your imperfect, but very dumb and very bright smile.
You got more from Tik Tok than from your construction job. But not enough to quit and live from it.
Your bedframe disappeared. You, alongside your mattress, fell to the floor. Your sheets were now old, full of patches, and with suspicious spots you weren't sure you wanted to think about.
Looking around you, you realized your apartment was much smaller than it used to be. Did you even always live in an apartment? You did now, at least. You couldn't stand straight in many of the rooms, thanks to your towering height. But you couldn't afford anything better with your current resources.
Your mind dimmed. You noticed, because your thoughts came almost to a halt, and because you got a headache when you tried to reread the note that had appeared this morning on your pillow. Reading was too much of an effort for your brain. You had better things to worry about.
An alarm. Oliver wanted you to go on a run, and he somehow had set up alarms ln your phone. You were using steroids, you remembered, and thus you needed to do cardio to strengthen your cardiovascular system. Although you didn't know what that even meant. Oliver did know, so you listened to whatever he told you to do.
Fortunately, your closet had changed too. You put on shorts that were rather tight. Your huge bubbly butt pulling the fabric almost too much. Which made the bulge produced by your chastity cage very evident on the front of your shorts. Your small bulge looking even smaller thanks to the size of your muscles and your height. Were you shorter or scrawnier, it wouldn't be as bad.
Other than putting on socks and running shoes, you only wore your tight shorts to go running. You had wonderful muscles, why would you wear a shirt when you could just... Not?
People looked at you immediately once you were out. Which was inevitable. You were aller than everyone around you, while also being a huge muscular beast. Initially, as could be expected with your physique, admiration came from everyone.
Then they looked at your crotch.
The fabric tense, outlining the shape of the chastity cage. Of how small, so ridiculously small it was. The awe and admiration of the people around you soon turned into sneers and jokes. Many began joining their index and thumb while they looked at you with amused smirks.
The worst part? You could feel your cock trying to get hard, only from the humiliation you were feeling from this experience. But the cage didn't let you, forcing your tiny cock to remain limp and useless.
Instead of returning home, you ended up back at the gym. Oliver was waiting for you his outfit sluttier than yesterday's. Somehow, his bulge looked even bigger than it was yesterday. Your mouth fell slack, drool falling from it. Oliver giggled, slapped your huge ass as a welcome, and made you begin to work out again. He was quite the strict master, so was he.
"Be a good muscle slut, and I'll reward you," He whispered on your ear as you were lifting weights. Someone else was spotting you, someone stronger than Oliver.
You almost dropped the weight with a gasp. But you knew better. No stopping until your huge muscles screamed for relief. No stopping until your arms trembled, until your legs bent in exhaustion. No stopping until your new master allowed you to do so. No pain, no gain...
Hours went, and you used almost every machine. Your masculine musk so intense you could gag when sniffing your own pits.
It was the hottest thing ever.
Back on the locker room, Oliver forced you to shower here. As a matter of public safety, he had said. You stood naked, only wearing your pink cage, as Oliver evaluated you.
"You're growing good. Most would stop now. You could pass for Mr. Olympia, and maybe continue growing naturally on your own pace. But you won't stop, slut. I don't want you to. And know you still want to be bigger. Bigger in ways only magic can help you achieve."
His petite hand cupped your tiny genitals. His thumb caressing the pink plastic cage. Oliver was the perfect twink, and despite being a muscle beast, you were completely powerless to his puny self. A slave of his massive twink cock. You wouldn't change it for the world.
"Tomorrow you'll wear this again," Oliver said, tapping your cage with his index. "You'll grow even more. And I'll grow too. You see, slut, my cock gets all the size you lose. And tomorrow I'll fuck you with your former size plus my own. Don't you love that, you dumbfuck?"
He slapped your ass as he smirked. You didn't have a reply. It was already hard to follow what he was saying and doing to think of anything to say. Thinking was hard for a muscle brute like you...
"But you were good boy today. And good boys get rewards. Get on your knees, big guy! And open your mouth wide..."
You obeyed. There wasn't a world where you would do otherwise. There wasn't a you who wouldn't do what your master says.
Oliver freed his huge cock. Bigger now, because he had taken all the dick size you had traded for muscle. You didn't know how he got your cock size. You didn't care. This life was way better than anything, even if your tiny cock was as tiny as it was now.
Your master allowed you to suck his schlong clean, and you did it with gusto. Your own tiny cock unable to even get hard in it's pink prison. But your cocklet was a fighter, and tried every single instant you were blowing your master to grow erect. A futile pleasure that was driving you crazy.
After swallowing your master's cum, you were allowed to go home. Oliver slapped your bubbly ass as a way of saying goodbye.
Like the previous day, the cage didn't budge. But you only tried once, unlike yesterday. You knew you couldn't cum. Not if you wanted to get bigger. And there was nothing you wanted more.
The following day, as you woke up, the pink chastity cage was waiting for you once again. Your 3 incher free to do as you wanted. But there wasn't a card next to the cage this time. Instead, it was your phone. With an audio ready for you to press play.
"I hope you slept well, my friend. I am sending you this audio, because reading would be too hard for you. Just a reminder: Wear the cage. Put it on now. And you'll grow even more. This is the last day, my friend. Wear your cage. Let your dream come true."
The sound of my voice was so deep, so hypnotic, you had already put the cage on before you even were aware of it. Not because I forced you to. But because it was what you wanted.
A gasp. The change was instantaneous. Less painful, probably because you had grown used to it. Even so, you welcomed the pain. No pain, no gain...
The cage began to constrict. Smaller and smaller. From three inches to only two. From two, to a miserable one inch.
It didn't stop. A part of you knew this was going to happen. Another was terrified, because you didn't know a cock could be even smaller than a single inch.
You began to sweat as you saw your cock dwindle even more. Until it was merely half an inch. You were as hard as you could be, but the cage fell between your legs as you sat on your bed. Your cock too small to hold the cage in place. Although cock wasn't the correct word anymore, was it? It was too small to be called a cock. A peepee, perhaps. Or a clit, if you were feeling especially in need of humiliation. Even a toddler was more hung than you, but unlike them, your peepee would never grow again.
The changes didn't stop, however. Thankfully, perhaps. For a second you were afraid your cock had shrunk this much in exchange of nothing.
Your body lengthened. From your already impressive 6'9" height you went even larger. You stood up as your height increased, stomping towards the full length mirror that had spawned in your room.
You were easily around seven feet tall. Over it, most likely. For a moment you looked skinnier. Had your muscles shrunk? You scratched your temple for a moment. Of course, you hadn't lost any muscle. You were so tall, your weight had redistributed differently. As if you had been stretched out until you reached your newer height.
Yet your muscles were as unhappy with the situation as you were. Heat invaded your body whole, making you sweat immediately until your skin was gleaming like a lake under the sun. Your stink would have made you gag if it wasn't because you loved it.
For the last time, your muscles magically grew larger. Shoulders broadening impossibly. Biceps getting as large as your head. Perhaps even more. Veins so evident, so manly, so sexy. You flexed, your head completely out of the mirror's frame since you were that tall.
Yeah, you were growing huge, boy!
Your arms and hands grew larger. You could feel their weight. You flexed again. As you did so, your pecs went event more forward. So heavy. You popped them as you flexed. They were so huge, bro. You had pecs for days. And your nipples? They were bigger than your cock. Like udders, dude. Maybe not that big, but they did remind you of cows. Haha, cows. Aren't they funny?
The next thing that was different was your stomach. Your defined abs pushed forward too. Ballooning out into your very own roid gut. One you wouldn't be able to hide easily. You almost looked pregnant, bro. Wasn't this hot? To be so obviously muscular? So obviously roided?
Was this what you wanted?
Next, your ass. Already so big, it grew even bigger. You had no business topping anyone, so it made sense for you to make sure your ass was the best iy could be. You were fortunate enough it was the place in your body that stored the little fat you had (your body fat percentage was as low as it could be, to show your muscles better). Giving your ass cheeks a round form over the impressive musculature.
Your thighs were now so ridiculously thick, man. Bigger than many guys' waists. Even some fat guys' waists, dude. Isn't that, like, awesome? You remembered your master, Oliver. One of your thighs was girthier than his whole body. And despite that, you were completely submitted to him!
You smiled stupidly as your calves grew too. Hand't you become a gorgeous roided giant? You certainly had. You patted your roid gut as your feet exploded in size. Only stopping at a men's size 22. You need to go to special stores to buy any shoes at all.
Although that's true for all your clothes. All needed to be custom made. You were too tall, too muscular, to be able to buy anything on a regular store.
You sat in your bed. Your mind growing even emptier. You barely can read. You forgot how to write. A stupid smile on your face as you finally could look at it in the mirror. A broad, squared face. Vacant eyes, slack mouth constantly drooling. Big jaw, manly features. Your neck was so thick too. Thick enough it almost looked like you didn't have a neck at all.
A moron you were. You knew it. A stupid jock who was too in love with growing bigger to be able to think about anything else... Well, except for one thing. You also lived to take cock from your twinkish master. With an ass like yours, it was your duty to the world.
Suddenly, you weren't on your apartment. You didn't have one anymore. You were also younger. Nineteen going to twenty. You had not finished high school, dropping instead at sixteen to dedicate your life to work out, and only that. Was there anything else?
Your construction job you had yesterday? Poof. Gone. You didn't even got to work at it. You now only publish Tik Toks. You have no other job that pays you directly. No, that's not true. You also got an Only Fans. One where you don't show your face, but instead your show your muscles and peepee to the world. It's not very popular, so you barely get anything from it. But your small fan base does love to humiliate you as much as it can, and they're fervently loyal to you.
You barely make any money. But you're not homeless.
Looking around, you are in a mansion. Is not yours but your master's: Oliver. Now, you see it clearly. You were classmates, before you dropped out from high school. He offered you to stay at his home, if you accepted to become his muscle bitch. To allow him to control you completely, while you focus on growing your impressive muscles.
You were a bodybuilding prodigy. Despite not being twenty yet, you had a body older men would nevet be able to achieve.
"There you are!" your Master said. "Let me look at you!"
He was so tiny. So puny. Your Master had to put effort into looking at your face, since he was more than two feet shorter than you. Yet... He was huge betwern the legs. Your Master had almost your entire cock added to his own, and you only had half an inch remaining. He was big where it mattered, as he liked to remind you.
"You're perfect now. You deserve a name. A simple one. A fitting one. No other man is as big as you. No other man can compare. And you are all mine. Yes, you deserve a name. Especially because we are almost late, and the forms require you to have a name."
Your Master took the shiny pink thong from his pocket. You remembered it. He said you would get it when you were ready.
And you are. You are ready now.
"Wear this, Brock. You're a human brick. Hard like a rock, and about as smart as one. Wear this, my muscle bitch. It's time for you to prove yourself to me."
Oliver squeezed your ass cheek, and then crouched. He extended the flexible thong, so you could put your huge foot. Then the other one. Your Master stood up, slowly rising the thong as he straightened. Till he adjusted it around your crotch.
It was such a small piece of fabric. And so tight. It barely covered your tiny peepee and small balls. They were even smaller than yesterday. About the size of mini M&Ms. The pink glittering thong made your ridiculously miniscule genitals so blatant, you almost came on the spot. Your miniature peepee was hard, but it barely made a difference in terms of size.
"Let's go, Brock," Your master said. "We gotta drive to the competition. You'll win the title for me, won't you? You'll be the best bodybuilder. And after you win? Brock, I'll fuck your fat muscular ass until you forget what you're called. Not that it'd be hard with that pigeon brain of yours."
He slapped said ass, and guided you towards the van. An adapted van where tou could actually fit at all.
As he drove towards the body building competition, you knew this was it. Magic had done it's job, and made your dream come true. You were Brock, Oliver's muscle slut, a roided muscular giant with a peanut peepee and the dumbest guy who ever lived.
Benito and Mike are ordered by Mike's father to go buy chocolate eggs at the last minute. On the store they find a suspicious box of chocolate eggs, that promises wonderful swaps and transformations.
Will the stepbrothers find a way to get along? Or will they try to destroy each other with chocolate tasting magic?
Dedicated to @ollie26684: here I grant your wish of a nerd and a jock swapping traits.
The store was full, as it was to be expected.
Everything had simply to be as terrible as possible, shouldn't it?
"Do you see any chocolate eggs, fatty?" Mike asked Benito, "Shouldn't you have like, a fifth sense for that or something?"
Benito rolled his eyes. Mike was his step brother. But beside living in the same house and being of similar age, they couldn't be more different.
Benito was short, chubby, and undeniably Hispanic. He wasn't bad looking necessarily, but his nerdy tastes didn't do him many favors. Mike, on the other hand, was a tall jock, white, and way too handsome.
"It's a sixth sense, Mike. Sixth. And no, I don't have a sixth sense to detect where the nearest chocolate eggs are," Benito said, more tired than annoyed at his step brother's stupidity.
Benito looked at the amount of people around them with trepidation. At this stage they wouldn't find any damn eggs.
It was his sept father's fault, Mike's dad. He had forgot to buy any earlier. And, instead of going himself, he sent Benito and Mike to purchase them.
Never mind the fact Benito and Mike had never gotten along.
"Whats the use of you, then?" Mike said, cruelly, yet with a smile that could sell sand in a desert.
"I brought the money. And I have a driver's license, unlike certain someone."
Mike's grin dissolved instantly. He didn't have a comeback. Although Mike had gorgeous looks, he had never been very clever. Mike didn't have many talents or skills, and the few he had he was bad at them. Very much unlike Benito, who was a wonderful singer and a brainiac.
Both step brothers began their odyssey, keeping close to each other as they stepped into the crowd. It proved harder than expected. Yet, despite their obvious dislike for the other, they didn't dare to separate. It'd be annoying to lose the other among all these people, either involving waiting for too long… Or worse, actively seeking each other, wasting both time and effort.
However, Benito couldn't help but get hard. Which he hated. Mike was a douche, but he was a hot douche. They only met a year and a half ago, some months before they turned seventeen. Their parents surprising them both with their relationship and quick marriage. Which was the only reason Mike and Benito would have ever interacted. Benito, as much as he lusted after jocks, he often kept himself away from them. Certainly not all of them were bad, but... Better safe than sorry.
Living with Mike, thusly, was at once a nightmare and a dream. A nightmare because he was an absolute asshole, cocky and miserable. But a dream because Benito got to see Mike parade the house half naked, got to feel the strong manly smell of his body, and, since their rooms were next to each other, Benito could hear the grunts of Mike's jerking off sessions… Which Benito often joined, from across the wall.
Mike's bulge was so big, Benito knew Mike was hung. And the idea of riding that cock was enough to cure any distress he could ever feel.
It was only natural, then, that he had a hard on. Because Mike's hot body was pressed against his back. Benito knew it was because of the amount of people around them (there was little space available), yet it didn't diminish the pleasure of feeling his towering step brother's torso leaning on his back. Especially because the heat of all this people had made Mike sweat. And with it, stink. And what a delightful musk Mike had!
"Yo, this is madness," Mike said. "It ain't even Christmas. Why is everyone buying now?"
"No idea. Perhaps Easter is more important than we thought, or everyone is buying at the latest possible time," Benito replied. "Can you see if we're close? You're tall enough for that."
It wasn't a good jab, but Mike's body was nearly if not entirely flawless. So Benito didn't have an equivalent for 'fatty'. Still, he could still use Mike's height for his own advantage.
"Huh? Oh, right. I actually wasn't looking. I thought you had that covered. Uh… Let's see. There, fatty! There! Look!"
Mike pointed to an aisle. It was somewhat close, but heavily obscured by all the people in between. It was almost as bad as a Black Friday. Benito had to raise to his tip toes to see the aisle well, given the crowd. He was barely tall enough to see the sign indicating the chocolate eggs were there.
Benito adjusted his pants, after Mike's hand strongly took hold of his shoulder. The erection needed concealing, and Mike touching him further (as platonic as that contact was) only made things worse. Still, Benito didn't mind the inconvenience nor the embarrassment. Not at that moment.
At last they reached the aisle. It was almost entirely empty, and some people were already fighting for some of the bags, boxes and baskets available.
Mike just stared at the chaos, while Benito lunched for whatever he could get. Despite being 5'4", his portly figure was enough to intimidate some people away from his path. Mike normally would have made a fat joke about that. Perhaps because it was convenient, he had remained quiet.
After taking a box and a bag of Easter eggs, Benito readied himself to leave. But something stopped him. An urge, whose origin he couldn't explain, made him look at the shelf again.
There it was.
It was another Easter egg box. But it was different from all the others offered by the store. It didn't have the rainbow coloring. It wasn't meant for kids. There was no rabbit. No discernible marketable theme from a franchise or popular IP.
The box, instead, felt like it came from a luxury store. Not from a regular supermarket. The box itself was a very soft pink, so light and warm it was almost beige. While the eggs inside alternated between a cerise pink and a classic rose color. The typography was elegant, engraved with golden letters.
"Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs," Benito read, to himself mostly, as his voice couldn't have been more than a whisper. "Guaranteed to be life changing…"
The box seemed too fancy. Perhaps too expensive to buy at a day such as this. But Benito didn't return it. The idea simply never formed in his mind. Instead, he added the box to what he had already taken.
I just know I have to take it with me…
Mike looked at the box, his blue eyes curious. Yet he didn't, for once, debate Benito's decision. Keeping quiet any thoughts he may had, whether positive or not.
Once in the car, silence ceased, however. Mike, from the copilot seat looked at Benito with raised eyebrows, and a douchey smirk.
"So, what were those pink chocolates you bought. Got a date or something, fatty? It ain't even February to be buying that sort of thing. Are you sure they're even good?"
"They're Easter eggs, you moron! Just because they're pink it doesn't mean they're for Valentine's day," Benito answered, vexed. His chubby hands tightened on the driving wheel. "I was going to share, but since you're being such an asshole, maybe I shouldn't."
Mike's smirk softened, just a bit.
"Hey, don't be like that. What's a little teasing between brothers?"
"We aren't brothers!" Benito yelled, thankful his skin was dark enough for his blushing not to show.
Mike chuckled. Looking at Benito in a way that was actually difficult to read. A rarity when it came to the jock's simple mind.
"You wound me, fatty!" Mike said with fake affectation. "And here I thought we were getting closer. The best of chums, as my dad would say. Are you really not gonna share with me? I thought I was the mean one between us. You wouldn't want to be mean, would you? You're not me, after all."
"Asshole."
No other response came from Benito's mouth, after that. Mike tried to continue their conversation, but soon gave up since Benito remained unresponsive.
Yet, every once in a while, each caught their step brother looking at them. Benito often looked when he needed to stop the car. While Mike looked on a less predictable manner.
Neither acknowledged when their eyes ended up meeting.
Finally, they reach home. Benito took the Easter eggs he had bought, and put the ones his stepfather had asked for inside the fridge.
But that box… Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs… He couldn't bring himself to put it away. Benito wanted to try the eggs now. The reason was as unclear to him as it was unimportant. Wherever the motive of his feeling, he just knew he would follow it.
Mike stood behind him. Benito could see Mike's blurry reflection on the fridge's door. The jock was struggling to read the box of chocolate eggs.
"Who's Mr. Hexum? I've never head of him," He finally asked.
"It doesn't matter who he is. These eggs are not for you," Benito replied, beginning to walk away. To the peace of his own bedroom.
"You were serious on the car? Come on. Don't be like that, bro. I'll be nice. I can be nice. I'm curious about that box. There's something weird about it."
Benito stopped.
He looked back, and up, at his step brother.
"How so? What do you feel it's weird about it?"
Mike, for once, looked sheepish. He smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
"I dunno. Look, I know I made fun of them earlier. But I really feel like I should open them. Whatever I was thinking on the way home was cut off by the need to eat one of them. I don't even eat chocolate, normally. Dad doesn't like it. I'm sure he wanted us the chocolate eggs more for you than for me."
Benito sighed. To be fair, he felt something similar. Although, he would never admit it what had actually gone through his mind. As he drove, other than worrying about driving, he had thought about how sexy Mike was. So tall, with such a virile body. Only to see his mind lustful ideas interrupted by the desire to open that box of chocolate eggs, to try at least one.
Although chubby, he had never considered himself obsessed with food. At least not to the extent of getting his lustfil thoughts interrupted by food ones. Something strange was going in with these eggs. And Benito wanted to know what it was.
"Okay. We'll try them together. But on my room," Benito declared, walking once again.
"Why on your room?" Mike asked as he followed, confused.
"Because your room stinks," Benito replied, simply.
I'll never admit how much I like your sweaty stench, he thought, stopping a sigh as he reached the stairs.
They went up. Mike was again too close. Benito began to suggest his step brother didn't know about personal space, at this point. At the supermarket it was one thing… But here?
Mike was also humming. Out of tune. So badly Benito didn't even recognize the melody ar first. Benito looked back, but before he could say anything, Mike looked away and grew quiet. The jock loved music, Benito knew, but was terribly untalented at it.
They finally entered Benito's room. Benito locked the door behind them, hoping no one would bother the two of them. He didn't know why he felt the need to do thusly, especially because neither his mother or his stepfather were home at present. Yet he didn't question himself much.
Both men sat on the bed. Benito lay the box between them. The feeling of something ominous made them both stop for a moment. To look at the box as if it could answer all their questions.
Then, Benito opened it.
Inside, there was card. White, with dark pink letters. Mike groaned as he saw it. Benito took pity of him, and decided to read out loud. He cleared his throat, and said:
Dear Benito and Michael:
This box of Easter Eggs is for you, and for you alone. As delicious as they are, they offer something more than simple delight. If you speak what you want to take from the other, or to give to the other, before eating one of them, you'll trade the trait you wished for. Use the eggs wisely, for there are only twelve.
Sweet Regards, Mr. Hexum.
"How the fuck does this Mr. Hexum guy even know our names?" Mike asked, almost as soon as Benito stopped speaking.
Benito had the same inquiry. He left the card where he had found it, and began thinking.
Realistically, the intelligent thing to do would be to ignore the eggs. The weird pulling feeling, plus the card, suggested something was afoot. What? Benito couldn't say.
However, temptation wasn't so easily vanquished yet. Reason argued the eggs wouldn't have any effect. But, if what the card said was true, then…
He could get a body like Mike's. That wonderful, hard on inducing body. That muscular, smelly, white body.
Benito had to admit himself, at the moment, he was jealous of Mike. He seemed to have everything. Sure, he wasn't smart at all. If anything, he struggled at school. And Mike couldn't sing a note in tune to save his life, despite his efforts. But otherwise his life was perfect.
Son of a football coach, who may be benched most games, but still is part of the team. Handsome, tall, with a god-like body. All with the added white privilege. Benito was sure Mike had to be straight and hung. With how cocky Mike was… Plus, he always had a massive bulge. So what other alternative could there be?
The eggs couldn't be real… But the chance of them actually working was simply to appealing to pass it up.
"Hey! Yo! Earth to bro! Are you listening?" Mike said, waving his hand over Benito's face. "I don't trust those eggs, fatty. And you shouldn't either. I don't care I still feel I should eat one. I won't. They make me not trust my gut, and that ain't a good thing, bro."
Benito knew, at that moment, he had three choices. One was to let him go, and swap things without his knowledge. If they didn't work, there wouldn't be any harm. If they did… Well, if he was quick after some changes there would be little Mike could do.
Second choice was to take Mike's advice and ignore the eggs. Maybe throw them out, ignore the chaos that they could so easily cause. After all, if Mike is making sense, the eggs can't be as good as they seemed.
The third option… Was to convince Mike to join.
"What, are you scared?" Benito said, his voice confident. "You always say you're not a sissy, and now you're scared of what some chocolate eggs can do? I thought you were s man, maybe I was mistaken all along!"
"Asshole," Mike said, almost spitting the word out.
He began to stomp his way out. But before he could reach the door, he turned on his heels.
"I ain't a sissy. And I'll prove it. I'll eat one damn egg. But I go first."
Benito shrugged. He wasn't necessarily glad about the idea of Mike going first. Still, he acted as if didn't care. After all, there was a dozen eggs. Because of that, who went second would get the last trade… Assuming they work, that is.
Mike took one of the eggs. It had a cerise pink wrapping. Mike undid it without much regard, uncovering the dark chocolate underneath. Shiny, well tempered chocolate.
"I want to swap… Hair colors, or whatever," Mike said, and then put the egg inside his mouth.
As he began to chew, Mike closed his eyes.
"Fuck, it tastes so fucking good," Mike said, as he continued chewing."What the fuck is this made of? It's… fuck… Why is it so good, bro?"
As he swallowed, the changes began. Benito didn't feel anything. He didn't need to. For he could see the changes taking place on Mike's head. And that was more than enough.
The golden blond hair soon became a light brown. Then regular brown. It kept going darker, until it was undeniably black. Not just the hair on the top of his head. But also his eyebrows, his eyelashes, and the bit of stubble he had missed when shaving.
Benito's eyes wandered down, to Mike's bare forearms. Thank goodness he had removed his jacket once they got home. The blond hair of Mike's arms had also darkened completely.
"Dude! Your hair!" Mike said, before Benito could. Mike was pointing at Benito.
"Look at yours too!"
Both step siblings ran to the standing mirror. Mike leaning down to see himself properly.
Indeed, Benito had also changed. Instead of his familiar black hair, he was completely blond. It wasn't the best look. His skin was naturally brown, and his features weren't commonly seen having natural blond hair. Yet, his hair was fully blond.
Benito lifted his shirt, ignoring how Mike looked at his gut. His pubes and chest hair had also turned a golden color.
"So they were for real? I fucking knew it," Mike said, taking a lock of his own hair. As if still trying to come to terms it was so dark now. It didn't look bad on him, but blond did suit him better.
Or so Benito thought.
"Yeah. They're real. I can't believe it! We have magic eggs. What the fuck?" Benito replied, struggling to keep his composure. "How is it even possible?"
Mike began pacing around the room.
"We should swap our hair colors back, and then get rid of the eggs. I don't want to be you… And you may want to be me, but I ain't letting you become me while screwing me over."
Benito knew he had to be fast. Mike wasn't smart enough as to evade being tricked.
"Come on, let's just do it for fun. Then I'll use the last egg to revert everything. Aren't you curious about being like someone else? Just for a tiny bit?"
Mike looked at Benito. Whatever his mind was debating, Benito didn't know. The jock kept quiet for a moment. Clearly not wanting to accept.
"Fine. I'll do it. Just because I ain't a sissy… And because you asked so nicely, fatty. As long as we reverse everything with the last egg, then I don't mind becoming anyone. Not even if it's you."
After the agreement was settled, Benito made sure to hide the blooming smile his face demanded to show. If he was too excited, Mike may go back on his decision.
And it was too early for that.
He took another egg, getting rid of the wrapping almost too hasty. Taking a deep breath, Benito looked at Mike. The jock was a foot taller than him.
Or was he?
"I want to trade heights," Benito said, getting the egg inside his mouth while Mike's eyes widened.
As soon as he tasted it, Benito knew all other chocolate would be forever ruined for him. It was the perfect combination of cacao and milk. The best texture. The best finish. And the filling? Out of this world. The raspberry was just as sweet as it needed to be, with the acid balancing the tastes. It also smelled divine.
He almost didn't want to swallow. Benito was tempted to just take all the eggs, and eat them without trading anything with Mike. They were just that good.
Fortunately, since they were standing close to each other and to the mirror, both step brothers could see the new change without any special effort. Benito saw how Mike's head was slowly getting lower on the room. While Benito's eye of sight continued rising as seconds went by.
Benito's shirt soon grew tight. Revealing his stomach, for it was too short now. Yet it didn't feel as embarrassing as it would have been otherwise. For the most past, because as he gained inches in height, his weight was less obvious.
Enough so, he didn't really look fat once he finally reached his new height of 6'4". At most he looked soft. Doughy. But chubby felt almost exaggerated.
As for Mike, his height compression also had changed the way his body looked. Instead of the well proportioned stud he had always been, he looked stocky. What Benito imagined Wolverine would look like, if he was less hairy.
Mike had gone from a 6'4" linebacker to a 5'4" bodybuilder. He looked so ridiculously muscular. Mike didn't seem completely displeased. Now that he didn't need to lean down to see himself fully on the mirror, he smiled stupidly and flexed his arms. His sleeves ripped slightly.
"I look so swole, bro. I'm like a total Gym Bro, now," Mike said, checking how his shirt was too tight on the sides, but too long for him. "Sweet, bro."
His pants also were too long. They hadn't fallen, however. His new muscles had kept his jeans mostly in place. Mike's butt was already a big bubbly thing, but now it threatened to rip the pants if Mike wasn't careful with his movements.
"Am I truly that short?" Benito asked, looking down for once at his step brother.
It was almost ridiculous. Now a part of him understood why people struggled to take him seriously. Mike looked like a kid from this high. Well, other than his stocky musculature, that is.
"Oh yeah… And I didn't realize how tall I am… I mean, was," Mike replied, although still more focused on flexing, ignoring the damage he was doing to his shirt.
"It's your turn to eat an egg," Benito reminded him.
He sat down. Benito's pants, although now too short for him, fortunately still covered his crotch well. His erection would surely betray him if he stayed standing.
Mike rolled up his jeans, and then went for another chocolate egg.
"I want to trade eye colors," he said, and then ate the egg.
Benito was disappointed at such minor a change. Then again, it was more than likely that Mike wasn't actually trading features with pleasure. It lay on Benito's hands to actively make any major changes. Still, he was slightly alarmed about the possibility of Mike wasting eggs with such minimal trades. Although it could be beneficial too, depending on how things went.
As for Mike, he had returned to stand next to the mirror. Benito didn't need to stand to see the change, thanks to the reflection. How Mike's eyes went from sky blue to a greenish hazel, growing warmer and darkening until they were the same brown Benito originally had.
After making sure to conceal his hard on, all while Mike was distracted, Benito joined Mike at the mirror again. He had brought another egg too.
Unused to his new height, Benito almost forgot to lean down so he could see his own face. It would be a while before he got used to be this tall.
His brown face looked bizarre. His eyes didn't look bad, with that familiar sky blue Mike used to have. But the blond hair still felt strange to his eyes. It would have been one thing if his eyebrows and eyelashes had remained dark, but since they hadn't, the color looked out of place.
Well, there was an easy way to fix that, wasn't there?
"We'll trade ethnicities," Benito said, and ate the egg before Mike could react.
The change, as all others, was instantaneous once Benito swallowed the chocolate delicacy.
Benito, despite being next to the mirror, had only eyes for Mike. His face was still handsome, but some features had changed slightly. The nose was broader, the lips fuller, the cheekbones softly more prominent. The major change was the skin. Although Hispanic people come in all colors, Benito was the kind of Latino who looked exactly as the average American expected him to look. And now, that was becoming true for Mike.
His fair skin, initially, looked as if it was getting a tan. But there were no tan lines, and it didn't look leathery at all. No, instead, the bronze color hadn't affected the youthful softness of Mike's skin.
No one would ever believe Mike Miguel was a white guy. Miguel, after all, looked so obviously Hispanic he… Miguel? Wasn't his name Mi… Miguel?
Benito Benedict shook his head. Wait, Benedict? No, his name was Benito Benedict. He was Benedict, not Benedict! Oh. He was Benedict now, because he was white...
Benedict knew something weird had happened. Something changing his brain, not just his physique. But soon he got distracted by his own reflection.
He was a white guy. Not as handsome, arguably, as Miguel was and had been. But decent looking for certain. His skin was so light compared to what he was used to…
"Woah, that's a trip! We still look like ourselves, but… So different too," Miguel said, touching his face as if not believing his current appearance. "I wouldn't expect anyone to recognize me now, at all."
Indeed, both of them were hardly recognizable as themselves anymore. It went beyond what Benedict had ever imagined.
"We don't even have the same names," Benedict added. "Which is insane,"
"Guess so, but I look way more like a Miguel than a Michael now, bro."
Miguel took another egg, looking at it instead of simply eating it. Benedict wondered if his step brother couldn't find a thing he wanted to trade with Benedict. And Benedict didn't blame him, so maybe he could propose something instead…
"You've done like, huge changes, bro. So, maybe I should make a big trade too," Miguel said, almost as if he was in a trance, his now brown eyes fixated on the chocolate egg. Benedict didn't have the time to suggest anything, but he was curious about what Miguel would say. "I wish I had your singing voice. So I could finally sing like I always wanted."
Benedict had been so focused on taking stuff from Miguel, he hadn't considered what he could lose. He froze as his step brother finished speaking, too late to stop Miguel from consuming the Easter egg.
Immediately, he felt a change on his throat. The larynx had completely transformed in an instant.
"What?" Benedict said, mostly to say anything. Just to confirm what exactly had been exchanged.
But instead of his voice, it was Miguel's. Completely. The same timber Benedict had jerked off to, many times in the past. That deep baritone voice that made his knees weak. It was his now. It came from his mouth. Whatever he said, whatever he hummed, or he whispered, or he sang, all would be with Miguel's voice.
As charming as his speaking voice was, however, the devastating truth was that Miguel had never been able to sing. He was completely tone deaf, unable to maintain a note stable at all. Miguel had troubles singing Happy Birthday, for fuck's sake! Any time he showered he sang loudly, and Benito always had to leave the house to maintain his sanity. He didn't want to be stuck with such a bad singing voice.
Worse, Benedict could feel all the years of singing practice leaving his brain. Memories as the main lead of the choir disappearing. The techniques, the exercises, the preparation, the care… All gone.
Instead, Benedict remembered himself singing only while showering, able to hit a single note of whatever song by mere chance. While Miguel was now a proper singer, with a beautiful tenor timber.
Miguel didn't waste the chance, and began to sing.
Benedict stood there, heartbroken, as the voice that used to be his almost brought him to tears from its beauty. Miguel had barely sang a couple of verses of an opera Benedict always loved. One whose name he couldn't remember anymore. It was the most mesmerizing hearing experience of Benedict's life... Per voi sola sospira così/dall'aurora al tramonto del dì...
"Oh fuck!," Miguel said, after he reached the home chord, and thusly felt he could stop singing. Or so Benedict guessed, he couldn't tell anymore. But it felt right. "I sound like you do! It's so insane, bro. Like, why even speak when I could sing now? Fuck… I always envied your voice. I just… Look, man, it's so weird hearing you from my mouth, but don't sweat it. This ain't permanent right? We'll fix everything with the last egg. This is just, like, a little try of what singing like this feels like, man. It's so incredible, bro. I never hoped to sound this beautiful..."
Miguel was smiling ear to ear. Humming with a control and harmony he had never been able to achieve before in his life. Benedict's stomach had sank so low, Benedict didn't know if it would ever work anymore. Was there even a point to his life if music abandoned him? He certainly didn't feel excited to continue this charade. Was it truly all worth it to become a privileged jock...?
But… Well, he could lose his voice, in the big scheme of things. The memories of his life as a singer had faded for the most part, and with them the pain he ought to be feeling. And being tone deaf wouldn't ruin his life. Many people weren't able to sing, and they could lead happy lives. Or so Benedict hoped.
Yes. Losing his voice wouldn't ruin his life. Not when he could improve it in some other ways.
Certainly, he would have preferred to be able to continue being a singer. But, he had envied Miguel's life too much as to give up now. He could become Miguel to the most minimal detail.
If he had to sacrifice his most cherished talent, so be it.
Another egg, and another trade. For something that Benedict had always coveted. Something he had always lusted after, even during those moments Miguel drove him crazy.
"I wish I had his muscles," Benedict said, still unused to his deeper voice.
He was so hard. This voice may not be a good for singing, but it didn't need to. It's husky baritone was enough to make men be consumed by lust, to genuflect with sexual adoration. If Benedict fully became the white jock his step brother had originally been, then everything was worth it. There wasn't a hotter existence possible, in his mind.
As chocolate went down Benedict's throat, the changes took place.
Benedict quickly got out of his shirt. It was already short, and it would certainly rip now if he kept it in. He was barely quick enough to get out of it.
His shoulders were broadening, as well as his back. Pecs growing steadily outwards, biceps ballooning deliciously. Thighs thick not just with fat, but with muscle.
Benedict took his pants off too, barely in time. His underwear wasn't so lucky, and has ripped slightly as his quads grew. Fortunately, not enough to warrant taking them off.
As for his stomach, the fat he still had was hiding his new abs. That's probably what should go next, he thought, patting his belly. He looked like he was bulking. Which wasn't bad at all. Just not his final goal.
His erection was very evident however, so he took his pillow to cover himself. Miguel was distracted looking at himself at the mirror.
Miguel didn't look like a bodybuilder anymore. Instead, he had about the same muscle tone Benedict had originally. Which wasn't much. Miguel looked like a regular slight twink. His clothes were so roomy Benedict couldn't tell how much he had truly changed.
It was mostly Miguel's thinner neck and arms that showed his now skinnier appearance.
"Look at that! You'd be prime twink if you lost that weight, fatty!" Miguel said, touching himself in front of the mirror. "I look so fucking cute this way. I could be a femboy if I wanted."
Benedict frowned in confusion.
"How do you even know what a twink is? And why do you call me fatty still ? I don't even look fat anymore," Benedict asked, his eyes fixated on his step brother.
"Why wouldn't I know that? I have... fucked? Yeah, fucked plenty of them. And I'm used to calling you fatty. Even so, you may not look that fat anymore, but your ass is still as fat and thick as always it's always been."
Benedict's mouth fell slack. He shook his head, keeping the pillow in place as he walked towards his shrunken step brother. He needed to confirm, as well as to ignore how his cock throbbed at Miguel's words.
"What do you mean you've fucked twinks? I thought you were straight… I was sure you were."
"Oh, that," Miguel said, with a chuckle. "I fake being straight for my dad. He's not homophobic, as far as I know. But you never can be sure about that stuff, bro. You didn't know I'm gay? I thought you would clock that as soon as you saw me, bro. Sure, I ain't as… Obvious as you are, or were, but really? You seriously didn't know?"
All Benedict could do, or say, was to shake his head in shock.
This changed everything. If Miguel had been gay all along… That could mean…
No. They may have only met late in life. Almost at seventeen. But they're still step brothers. It'd be weird if anything happened between them. No matter how much Benedict may want it...
Right?
Benedict didn't hear what Miguel was saying now, too focused on recovering from his step brother's earlier words. Once he saw Miguel was eating something Benedict realized he should have been paying better attention.
He had been lucky, however. His current state of undress made obvious what the trade had been, even though he'd never know the precise wording used. The now golden body hair was beginning to recede, leaving a way smoother body than what Benedict had been used to before. This smoothness was something he associated with Miguel.
Chest hair was gone. Forearm and leg hair grew thinner, and lighter. Not very easy to perceive. Benedict knew that, if he rubbed his hands on his legs with enough friction, he could most likely remove some of those hairs with ease. Miguel had done so once before.
Benedict now mostly had his pubes, which were trimmed neatly, and his armpit hair. The rest of his body, neck down, was as smooth as a baby's bottom. His face also didn't have the almost permanent stubble he was used to. Before it didn't matter if he shaved every day, it always looked like he had two days stubble on. Now, he didn't look like he could grow a beard if he wanted to. He knew he could, but it'd take way longer. Benedict even had some of the dew patches of very light stubble Miguel had forgotten to shave off.
On the flipside, Miguel was the opposite. Becoming quite hairy. Had he wished for hair before losing his muscles, he would have been a great Hispanic version of Wolverine. Alas, it couldn't be.
"It's itchy. But it's hot," Miguel said, looking down the neck of his baggy shirt. "How easy it was to go from twink to otter, am I right?"
Benedict didn't want to laugh. The joke was terrible. And only made it more obvious Miguel had probably always been gay. Or a guy who had investigated too much about gay terms for no reason.
That didn't fit his Modus Operandi, however. Miguel never studied anything, especially so if he didn't have to.
Instead of laughing or showing any reaction to Miguel's joke, Benedict took another egg. As he had decided before, he chose to give his fat to Miguel. Now he'd be the fatty. Not Benedict.
Miguel didn't protest, nor emoted much. Probably had seen it coming, even with his reduced level of intelligence.
Given Benedict's new height, the difference before and after the trade didn't feel that dramatic. He had basically gone from bulking to cutting in less than a minute. He looked like the prototypical American jock he had always found infuriatingly hot. Of course, since it was now his appearance instead of Miguel's, it was not vexing at all.
For his step brother the change had been more visible. Although Miguel's clothes were still baggy on him, they were clearly tighter than they used to be. And the shape of a rounder belly was now clearly suggested by the folds of his shirt.
"I feel like I'm the same weight I used to be. But, like, flabby instead of muscular, bro," Miguel said, squeezing the doughy flesh of his belly. "I'm a cuddly fatty now, who would have thought that'd happen?"
"And I look like a God," Benedict replied, flexing his lean musculature. "I could be a model if I wanted looking like this."
"I tried once. I'm… Well, you are now too bulky for most fashion houses, dude. Commercial stuff is fine, though," Miguel said, simply, as if it was nothing.
Miguel had done modeling? And Benedict didn't know?
Perhaps it was for the best. Someone would have caught me jerking off to his photos. Not a problem anymore, though…
"My turn," Miguel said, after Benedict grew quiet. "What could we trade now? We basically have swapped into each other's bodies, bro. Almost, I'd say. Hmm… Oh, I know! We'll trade smarts. Always wanted to know how it feels to be smart."
Benedict didn't bother stopping Miguel. He had been too distracted by his reflection to actually react. Once his brain, however, hit the alarm, it was already too late to do anything.
The pillow fell to the floor. Benedict's eyes grew vacant, as if behind the blue there wasn't an ocean of information but merely a puddle. Thoughts slowed dramatically. As if he had someone went from fast modern day internet to something people had during the 1900s.
"What the fuck, bro? Why'd you make me a dumb-ass?" Benedict asked, his speech patterns changing as his vocabulary dwindled.
Memories shifted too. Gone were the afternoons reading hard sci-fi, or fantasy novels with heavy ruled magic systems. Gone were the medals from the spelling bees contests from childhood, the prizes for excellent essays, the deep conversations Benedict had had on philosophy, science and other multiple topics.
His inner world had been so thoroughly reduced, he didn't feel he was the same person anymore. In fact, he didn't go by his full name anymore. Benedict was too long. Too complex.
Even Benny felt too complicated. Instead, he was Ben. Short, simple, and easy to remember.
"What the… Bened… No, Benny? Hmm... Also no. Ben! You're Ben now. This is insane! My mind is so clear. It's like my brain was a cloudy day suddenly turned diaphanous. I didn't know people thought this swiftly. With such ease. Boy, was I a moron. It's incredible," Miguel said, smiling widely. "I'm almost sorry I took your intellect, man. But since we're going to reverse anything, I suppose there's no harm on me staying this intelligent for a little while. Or you being… Well, dumb."
Ben nodded. He didn't understand everything, but he knew he should act as if he did. People otherwise would think he was dumb. And he wasn't dumb. Right? He wasn't dumb. Couldn't be. It just felt and looked like it.
It was now his turn to eat another egg. Fuck, I hope he doesn't figure out I want to trick him. If I don't say anything maybe he won't notice… Uh…
He stared at the egg in his hand, having forgotten for a second why he needed to eat it. Boy, how could Miguel live like this? It was so frustrating.
"We should swap clothes," Miguel said, distracting Ben. "What I'm using doesn't really fit me anymore. And you shouldn't be half naked when there's no need for it."
Afterwards, Miguel undressed. He didn't remove his underwear, however. Despite that, Ben could feel his mouth salivating. The bulge on Miguel's underwear was insane.
It wasn't the first time Ben had seen Miguel's huge bulge. It looked almost fake. Multiple times he had imagined how the full thing would look like. Was it only long, or was it thick too? Cut or uncut? Veiny or smooth?
Whatever the truth was, Ben wanted to know. Especially because now he knew Miguel was gay. He felt closer than ever to actually seeing that beautiful massive schlong he had dreamed about so much...
But it would have to wait. It was too soon to get it. Miguel could easily reverse it. Ben couldn't allow that. If he waited just enough... If he was patient enough... He would win this thing.
His train of thought was easily interrupted by Miguel giving him his clothes. He had already dressed up on Ben's old clothes.
They suited him perfectly. Like a glove. It was bizarre to think of Miguel wearing such a nerdy Pokémon shirt, but here they were.
Ben kept thinking, as hard as it was, about what he could trade now while he was changing his clothes.
The answer was revealed as he took Miguel's shirt, and had it close to his face. Ben barely kept his composure, and didn't try to smell the shirt despite craving it so badly. How could he forget how much he loved his step brother's stink?
"I want to trade smells," He said, eating the chocolate egg almost too quickly. Miguel laughed, either unbelieving, or simply of shock. Ben didn't care what the answer was.
The change, as it was to be expected, was quick. And Ben felt his cock throb against his borrowed pants. He could feel a new dampness on his armpits, and on his back. He remembered Miguel used to sweat a lot. He had the looks of a model, but was always a sweaty stinky guy. It didn't matter. He looked like a god. A shiny musky god.
Now it was true for Ben. He was the smelly guy with the body suited for divinity.
"I can't believe you swapped that. But it feels nice not to be all covered in sweat for a change," Miguel said, chuckling. "So you really went for the full experience, huh? I wonder…"
Miguel took the second to last egg, and held it on his hand.
"I shouldn't wish for this. I really shouldn't. But… Aren't we going to reverse it all with the last egg? Why does it matter what I wish for? Why does it matter how extreme or how tame it is?"
Fool, Ben thought. I'm still outsmarting you even without my smarts!
"I wish we traded lives. Not just our bodies, but our lives." Miguel said, and ate the egg.
What the? Ben's eyes were as wide as they could be, while his mouth was open slack and drooling.
He didn't expect this. He truly hadn't. It didn't make any sense! It wouldn't have even if he had all his smarts. Why would Miguel want Ben's life?
It all began after that. Ben's memories of living with his single Colombian mom on a small apartment disappeared. Memories of flying each December back to celebrate Christmas left him too. The tastes of traditional food, the rules of fluent Spanish instead of the broken mess taught by the American Education system. The fun of watching soccer with his Colombian relatives. Spanish speaking singers he had loved being removed from his brain, becoming completely unknown.
Instead, those were utterly replaced by a different life. His stepfather had become his real dad, instead of the asshole who disappeared after learning that his mother was pregnant. Ben had been raised almost since birth to care about football. To play it. He had talent for it. And unlike Miguel, Ben used it to shine like a sport's star.
His mother was now a white woman, who had died during his childhood years. While his original mother had become his stepmother he met but two years ago. Ben could recall the wedding, his and Miguel's positions flipped.
The changes weren't merely on their minds. The different parents had changed the last few things of their original bodies. Miguel now had Ben's face completely. Including the nerdy hairstyle. While Ben had Miguel's impossibly handsome face.
Holding his head on his hands, he walked towards the last egg. Ben didn't care about reminiscing about this new life he had apparently lived. Where he was, essentially, who his step brother had formerly been.
"What are you doing?" Miguel asked, panicked, also holding his head, kneeling. "You should wait. It's too soon to turns things back. We should leave as each other at least for a day! Why would you return things back to what they were now?"
Ben didn't listen.
He smirked, confidence and douchey bravado motivating his steps. Finally, he reached the coveted last egg. One that could return everything to what it was. It'd be so simple. To wish to trade everything back to what it were.
"This are our lives now, fatty," Ben said, an evil gleam on his eye. "I ain't going back to being a Latino shortstack, bro. I simply ain't."
Ben removed the wrapping. Miguel tried to move, to stop whatever Ben had planned, but since his mind was still adjusting to the changes, he was slow and clumsy. Ben could almost believe Miguel wasn't actually trying. But perhaps he just was that weak in his new body.
And so, ignoring Miguel, Ben held the egg to his lips. Almost kissing it. His now blue eyes fixated on his shrunken and fattened step brother.
"I wish to trade cocks. So I can finally have that huge dick for myself," He said, loudly. Cackling afterwards, until he are the egg. "Enjoy mediocrity, fatty. I'll be the stud from now on!"
However, the very moment he swallowed, Miguel laughed too.
"I don't have a huge cock, you moron! I always used padding! You don't know what you've done!" Miguel said, barely eloquent as laughter interrupted his words. "Oh boy, what a blunder!"
Miguel fished the padding out of his pants, holding it up with triumph painted on his face. Horror struck Ben, who immediately dropped his pants and underwear down.
He still had his cock. Average, but thick. Heavy balls. It looked bigger given his newly trimmed pubes. But also smaller since his body was so large now. Overall, nothing impressive, but nothing to lament either.
But the image in front of his eyes soon shifted. His cock rapidly dwindled. From average, to small. From small, to tiny. From tiny, to ridiculous.
It was the most absurd thing Ben had ever seen. His cock may as well be a clit. Soft, it didn't even reach an inch. And even so, it was mostly foreskin. Ben stroked it, or tried to. But his big hands were hardly the best to do much with such a small cocklet.
As Ben saw his cock dwindle, and wondered how to even make himself go hard by touch, he barely was aware of how his heavy balls were also shrinking. The whole ball sack growing tight and small. Not that it mattered now. Having big balls wouldn't fix such a tiny cock.
"Don't worry, Ben. I can help you out," Miguel said, all smiles, his chubby hand reaching towards Ben's crotch. "I've out witted you, so you deserve some consolation. And I know just what you need."
Ben thought about protesting. He really did. But his new brain was too slow to actually come with any response. Indeed, he has opened his mouth to say something, when Miguel's warm hand began touching him. And what a touch! Clearly, Miguel knew exactly what to do.
What is he doing?! Oh Fuck! He's fingering my cock!
Miguel was using his thumb, pushing inside Ben's wrinkled foreskin. Caressing the head in such a sensual way, such a careful yet erotic way. Ben didn't know such a sensation was possible.
Soon, he was hard. And although he had grown plenty, his cock was still small. A micro dick by every measure. Hard, it didn't even reach three inches. Perhaps it barely surpassed two.
"Good boy," Miguel said, now stroking the cock he had awakened. "Let me make you cum. It's your consolation prize."
"How? Why?" Ben asked, between grunts and moans. "How is that I lost? I was the ome tricking you!"
Miguel laughed, his fingers never stopping to play with Ben's just acquired two incher.
"Oh, Ben. Isn't it obvious? You thought you were playing me. Getting my height, my muscles, my whiteness. I was dumb, certainly. But not such a moron I wouldn't have understood your little plan. It took me a while to figure out what you planned, I admit. Yet it was clear. You wanted to be me, and you were willing to trick me to achieve it. The issue was that you lacked important information, very important information."
Miguel smiled as he introduced his finger inside Ben's foreskin, caressing the sensitive head in such a way Ben almost fell to his knees.
"One, you didn't know I was gay. Two, you believed me to be a stud. I'm not. I'm a virgin, actually. I didn't fuck any twinks as I said earlier. Not outside of dreams and fantasies, that is. My cock was too small for that, even though I always had the confidence to flirt. Women and men wanted me, and I couldn't have them without revealing my embarrassing secret," Miguel then paused, although he was still pleasuring Ben. "Three, and most importantly, I've always been jealous of you. I always wanted to be a singer, to live for music. I never had the talent. My dad never let me learn, since I didn't show any promise. I was good at football. And so, that's what I did. Play football."
Miguel slowed his hand, looking up at Ben. The big guy was biting his lip. Trembling. So close to release.
"Don't get me wrong," Miguel's continued. "I liked football. But I didn't love it. I didn't put any effort on it. I wanted to be a singer, despite how foolish of a dream that was. So I refused to go along my father's plans. That's why I was almost always benched. Then, my father married your mother. And there you were. Free, with the talent I always coveted. Openly gay, and cute in such a sift nerdy way. In my former stupidity, I bullied you. Because I had the hots for you. And I knew you wanted me too. But I couldn't actually reach for you. Couldn't actually embrace my desire and fuck you senseless as I wanted."
"You wanted me?" Ben said, his deep voice breaking. He was so close. "Fuck, I didn't notice, bro. I wouldn't…"
"Of course you didn't. I was a jerk, seemingly a pussy hound, and relentless at teasing you. No, not even with your former intellect you would have figured it out. The clever thing about stupidity is that it doesn't follow logic, and thus, it can confused even the most brilliant. But we're going off topic, big guy."
Miguel's hand stopped altogether. Which was enough.
Ben came, falling to his knees with a loud moan. It felt as if he was shooting loads and loads of cum. He felt as if he was going to fill the room with his seed. Yet, as he opened his eyes, he realized his cum had been such a meager and watery amount, it barely looked white. It was almost transparent, and… It didn't make a mess at all.
Every drop had fallen on Miguel's palm. A pitiful embarrassing small amount. Miguel didn't waste a second to lick the cum while smirking and looking up at Ben.
"As I was saying, I desired you. But also envied you. I had never expected to actually get your life. And I was terrified of my wish actually coming true, regardless of how much I actually wanted it. As much as I envied you, I did love being me. Being me is awesome. I had distrust for the eggs, yet you dismissed my legitimate concerns. And then you made it so obvious you wanted to steal my life. Seriously, you didn't even complain out loud when I took your singing voice! And, well, since we both wanted the same thing, I played along. I wasn't expecting you to take our last chance to turn things back, although I hoped you would. I guessed you'd leave my cock for last. As a grand finale. A final fuck you to me. But I wasn't sure. I was open to bottom for you, if that was the case. Fortunately, things turned around in my favor. By your own hands…"
Miguel held Ben's face, looking at him tenderly.
"Now I have a real cock. Not the biggest perhaps, but more than I've ever had before. And I will use it. From this day you'll be my bitch. I'll help you be the best jock, the best football player, and the best bottom you could be. And I'll be the wondrous singer who'll fuck you until you forget your own name. Which won't be difficult, given your reduced intellect."
Thusly, as if to prove his own words, Miguel kissed Ben on the lips. Despite his height and muscle loss, he immediately took control of the kiss. While Ben, after the shock wore off, acquiesced and gave himself fully to his step brother.
Thanks to Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs, they had essentially become each other. Only their former names remained somewhat. Adapted to their new identities. Of course, they also finally had the truth. That they desired each other. That they were both gay.
In a way, they had fixed their little world. The truth was out, and both had gotten what they envied from the other. Talent, beauty, freedom, and more.
The box of chocolate eggs disappeared without any of the two noticing. Too worried about fucking for the first time to care about the now empty box. Perhaps it'll be found again next year by them. Or it'll wait for somebody else.
How neither Ben nor Miguel knew. And neither cared enough to figure it out. Despite how diametral their change had been, neither was disappointed.
The only real issue was how to explain their new romance to their parents. But Ben didn't worry much about it. Miguel certainly had the smarts to figure it out on his own.
A hot new neighbor moved on Cameron's next door apartment. Cameron thinks Dave, his new neighbor, is the hottest man he's ever seen. So he's greatly surprised to learn that Dave envies Cameron's life in a similar way Cameron envies Dave's.
Dedicated to @cub2bear93
Note: This was originally going to be a one shot, but it got too long, so I decided to make it a multiple parts story.
Cameron was used to being completely ordinary. He had dreamed once about being someone special, but it's hard to maintain such fantasies when simply looking at the mirror proved he was a plain and forgettable guy.
Still, this didn't mean he hated how dull he was. It allowed for a very comfortable existence. Specially since he had been lucky enough to be able to own an apartment without needing a roommate or to be in a oppressing amount of debt. His apartment was fairly small and cheap. As unremarkable as Cameron was, but more than enough to be content.
As things stood, his life was pleasant. He worked just enough for a decent amount of money. He had plenty of free time, that he may be wasting on scrolling down his phone instead of doing anything productive or creative. There was something comforting about knowing he had the potential to do anything he wanted, even if he didn't do much in actuality.
Hence, Cameron didn't expect any excitement in his life anymore. It didn't suit him. Cameron was simply too bland, almost to an inherent level. He was of average height at 5'9". He had a boring face, he was unable to hold an interesting conversation beyond pleasantries, and he was scrawny. Cameron wasn't packing much heat downstairs, either. So while he did have the occasional hook up, Cameron wasn't a stud or anything close to it.
That's why Cameron was now panicking. He shouldn't, but how couldn't he when something marvelous had happened?
Internally, he knew it wasn't that big of a deal. A new neighbor had moved next door. Wasn't that so mundane? Cameron normally wouldn't care. Last neighbor had been a pleasant old man. Mr. Rojas. Cameron had befriended the old man, enough he considered him a close good friend. Cameron had gone to his funeral, a month ago. He even gave a short speech that ended with him tearing up.
But as good of man that Mr. Rojas had been, he was as unremarkable as Cameron himself was. And so, Cameron had expected someone as mundane as himself or as his former neighbor to move in next door.
That hadn't been the case, however.
David Moore, Cameron's new neighbor, was a special man. Perhaps not to everyone. After all, a divorced dad moving to a small apartment didn't seem as much of a novelty by anyone's understanding of the term, beyond being a new face in a familiar place. Yet, David was…
David was so incredibly hot. The DILF of Cameron's dreams: tall, muscular, with a trimmed beard that completely shamed Cameron's hairless face.
They had just spoken. For the first time. Cameron was pressed against his front door, his breathing agitated as he reminisced the moment. It had been minutes ago, yet it felt as if had been years already. It felt so transcendental, Cameron couldn't really process it had been a mere introduction. A mere, mundane conversation.
No, it felt as if he had witnessed a cosmic event. Something so wonderful, so unique, so tremendous it shifted his understanding of what life was, of what it meant. As if, by such a simple of an interaction, his whole self had been forever rewritten into a new Cameron.
How difficult it was not be ashamed! To not regret everything he had done and said!
It all begin like any other day would have gone. Cameron had just left his apartment to get rid of a full trash bag. Then he noticed the moving company was on his floor, transporting boxes and furniture inside the next door apartment. He had heard them earlier. He didn't mind their presence.
That's when he saw him. Standing in the middle. Deep voice giving orders that weren't questioned. He was decisive. He was confident and certain of everything. It stopped Cameron on his tracks. The weight of the full bag, as well as the smell, completely forgotten as he saw the most attractive man he could conceive standing there, just in front of his eyes.
"Hey there, Mister!" The man had said. "Are you the guy living in that apartment? I'm your new neighbor! Nice to meet you!"
The man offered his hand. It was bigger, broader and rougher than Cameron's. The contact was enough for Cameron to feel, for a moment, that he had returned to his childhood. Could he really be in a similar demographic to someone like his new neighbor? Cameron barely felt he resembled a man, especially since the living ideal of masculinity that stood in front of him was so blatantly dissimilar to his own self.
"Name's David. David Moore. But you can call me Dave. Everyone does!" Dave said, with a chuckle. "Although I'd be more than glad if you call me sir, too."
The last addition was clearly a joke, yet Cameron only realized later.
"I'm Cameron," Cameron replied, his voice thin, cheeks reddening to an embarrassing degree. "I… You could call me Cam, I guess… I mean, if you want to. My friends do call me that… Sometimes."
Unfortunately, that wasn't truly the case. Cameron didn't have many friends. And most of them were from his time at college. He hadn't seen any of them since graduation. At least, not in person. None of them called him Cam. Cameron had told them they could, but no one seemed interested in doing so.
"Cam, eh? Lovely. Back when my wife and I were still together, we did consider having a boy named Cameron. We didn't like the name as much for a girl. We never got a chance to use the name, since we had two girls: Lottie and Charlie. Only later we realized both were nicknames for the name Charlotte! It was too late to change the names then, both of our girls were too grown when we noticed our mistake, and they liked their names lots. Both find it hilarious nowadays, though."
Cameron just nodded. Dave could say anything and Cameron would have found it interesting. Still, from that little tidbit of information, it became clear Dave was very likely a straight man. Pity. Cameron was used to unrequited romantic feelings, so he didn't dwell in his disappointment at all. Probably because he was too distracted looking at how hot his new neighbor was to actually worry about how hopeless his new crush was.
After exchanging some pleasantries, and Cameron giving Dave some information on how things worked at the building, they said their goodbyes. Cameron finally got rid of the trash bag he had been holding all this while. His arm was sore. He really needed to exercise soon. Being this much of a weakling wasn't something he enjoyed.
Not when he had seen how strong and reliable Dave could be… If only Cameron was just a tiny bit more like him...
Despite how overwhelmed Cameron had felt after meeting Dave, the following days weren't as troublesome. Sure, Cameron still fumbled his words. And blushed too much. And got dazzled by Dave's rugged looks even at moments he should actually be paying attention to what was going on. Of course, poor Cameron couldn't do much about it, since Dave had the habit of jogging shirtless every morning. Cameron was simply defenseless to that hairy chest gleaming with sweat. How could he ever concentrate with such a sight?
Still, Dave was an understanding man. A true extrovert, he was able to still find a way of having conversations that felt natural and easy going, even if he was speaking with someone as socially incompetent as Cameron.
Their relationship didn't go the same way it had gone with Cameron and Mr. Rojas. After all, Cameron often helped the old man a lot before his death. He carried groceries, he helped clean the apartment, he sometimes cooked for the man. And not just the semi regular occasions where they ate dinner or lunch together.
Such a relationship wasn't viable with Dave. How could it be? Despite Dave being decades older, it was clear he was in way better physical condition than Cameron. If anyone needed assistance with physical tasks it would sooner be Cameron than the new neighbor. Dave didn't need Cameron's aid for anything.
Except, Dave was lonely. He was a family man, used to a full house. And now, he was living on a small apartment on his own. His daughters only stayed with him during the weekends. Maybe also for some rare event in the middle of the week. Still, for most days, Dave was completely on his lonesome. On a new neighborhood where he didn't know anybody.
Cameron was, arguably, in the perfect position to remedy that.
Soon enough, Cameron and Dave made themselves good friends. Both had plenty to learn from the other. Cameron knew the neighbors, the way the building worked. He knew how Dave's apartment worked better than David himself, since he had helped Mr. Rojas so much before Dave moved in. Cameron also understood meme culture, and how to use social media and the internet in ways Dave had no idea were possible. Something that won Cameron points with the older man, since Dave saw it as way he could eventually bond better with his daughters.
Dave also had plenty to teach. Manly activities Cameron had never had the chance to learn from his own father: how to build and repair things, how to maintain one's car in an excellent state, and even some physical exercises.
Months went by thus. Cameron's crush on Dave had only grown. He knew Dave was a good man, a respectable man. Someone worthy of admiration, both physical and moral. Despite that, Cameron knew Dave treated him more like the son he never had. Not that Dave hadn't taught his daughters the same things he was now teaching Cameron… But there were still some few things that differed in the way one should treat a daughter and a son, at least, from Dave's perspective.
Cameron had met Lottie and Charlie. Although Cameron was an adult, as he only had like a five year difference with the two girls, the three of them were able to strike a friendship with ease. One that was promptly tested the weekend Dave invited Cameron to come to a fishing trip with him and his daughters, at a nearby lake.
The young man had accepted without much consideration. Cameron had never gone fishing before, but the idea of spending time with Dave, regardless of the actual circumstances, was simply more than enough for him to agree to anything Dave could ever propose. It was only fortunate that Dave had no idea of this, although Cameron was certain Dave was too good of a man to seriously take advantage of him.
Yet a part of Cameron didn't mind the idea of Dave abusing his power over his in love self.
After being all day on the boat, the four of them were ready to sleep well for as many hours as they could. They had set two tents, one for Cameron and Dave, and another for Lottie and Charlie.
The two girls went to bed early. Leaving the two men sitting next to the bonfire. The stars above them, as well as the full moon. It was truly a beautiful night. They relaxed together for a while, not talking of anything serious. At least, not until it was late enough that Lottie and Charlie were completely asleep.
"Are you happy, Cam?" Dave asked, beer in hand, looking up at the starry sky.
Cameron gasped, surprised by the question. Pensive, he remained quiet for a moment before answering. He wanted to be honest with Dave, as much as he could.
Truth was, however, he had never considered the question with much depth. He was content, for sure. But happy? That was a completely different matter. What would he need to be happy? Someone he loved? More money? To have a dream to follow?
To be around his unrequited crush? To be this close even if there was a distance Cameron could never reach across?
"I don't think so. I know I'm not… Unhappy. Does that count? I don't think my life sucks, but… It's not the one I would have hoped to have as a kid," Cameron replied, trying to be sincere without sounding too sad. "I'd say I'm content. Life could be better, but it ain't bad."
Dave nodded.
"I used to be happy," David said, looking up at the sky. "Or I thought I was. I had the perfect life, that's what I always said: A beautiful life, lovely daughters who I'm close to, a big house that I helped make it a home. But… As years went by, I realized I was missing something. I was merely content, as you said. I had achieved everything I thought I wanted, only to realize it wasn't what I actually wanted to live as. My wife felt the same. Our love fizzled out so subtly we didn't realize until it was gone. Or rather that it had shifted into something neither og us could recognize. Fondness was still there, but the passion? Gone. Since that day I always wondered what would I do if I was younger again."
"Wow. Honestly, I wouldn't mind skipping my youth," Cameron replied. "I feel like I have no purpose. If I was your age, or if I was you directly, I'd probably know…"
"If you were me?" Dave interrupted, eyes shining.
Cameron squeaked. His face reddening as he processed what he had said. His crush on Dave had bled to his words, making him reveal more than he intended despite the topic not having anything to do with his romantic inclinations. Cameron didn't just want Dave as a man. He dreamed about becoming him. About waking up and seeing Dave's rugged face on the mirror.
"I do sometimes wish I was you, too," Dave added, with a chuckle. "No need to turn all red on me, son! If I was your age I could so much more. I wouldn't even mind being gay, for a change! A second chance is all I want. And I've always wondered how it'd feel to be someone else."
A notification stopped Cameron from saying anything to that. He quickly fished out his phone from his pocket. The notification was a pink square with an upper case white H. And it had the following message: Want to become someone else? Hexum industries offers Build Your Spell (BYS). Begin a new life with us!
Cameron gasped. He had heard about the theory were listening to people's conversations, but this was ridiculous, wasn't it?
Dave, curious due to Cameron's gasp, raised his eyebrows as he read the notification. Leaning over. His hand on Cameron's shoulder.
Cameron went still. Terrified and experiencing the most profound of delights.
"Ain't that something?" Dave said, settling back into his seat. Cameron thought he saw a strange gleam on his neighbor's eyes. "Why don't we try it? It does feel suspiciously convenient but…"
"It's probably a virus, though," Cameron replied, although with little confidence. "Or a scam. Just one with a good sense of timing."
Despite Cameron's sensible precaution, Dave didn't need to do much to convince him to give the notification a chance. It directed to a website. Well designed, with as balanced combination of pink, black and white. There was an illustration of a handsome man that resembled something painted by J.C. Leyendecker for the Saturday Evening Post. A man that seemed to have his elegant face change seamlessly to completely different facial features, while still retaining a similar level of beauty.
The one category that both men were interested in was the Build Your Spell one. Neither believed it was real, but… Well, wouldn't it be fun to give it a try? At worst it would be a loss of time, at best it could actually work.
As they clicked on the category, they were directed towards a questionnaire. They had to include their data (name, gender, sexuality, height, weight, among other things), as well as their preferences. Cameron proposed the spell should last a week, while Dave proposed having sex while in each other's body would make the swap permanent. All under the reasoning that the spell probably wasn't real, as well as supposedly assuring neither would escape with the other's body. Dave said he didn't mind being gay in Cameron's body, while Cameron preferred to keep his sexuality. Although the idea of becoming straight was hot and intriguing to him, in the hypothetical scenario he'd actually became Dave, Cameron believed staying gay would make him appreciate the experience a lot more.
Once both of them answered all the questions, the page gave them a result: A list of instructions and some lines to read. They weren't in English, nor seemed to be Latin or another language either Cameron or Dave knew about. The instructions included both written references on how to pronounce the foreign words, as well as an audio with a deep seducing male voice pronouncing them.
"This seems way too elaborate to be a joke," Dave said, looking at the screen of Cameron's phone. "I don't want to sound silly, Cam, but this may be real."
Cameron wasn't so sure.
"It may be just a role-playing site. I've seen similar websites in the past. People agreeing to experience a shared fantasy. Some never acknowledge they're not actually real, since they assume people already know it."
"We should try it, nevertheless," Dave said, resolute, with a confident grin. "It'd be fun if it works. Plus, we made it temporary. We are not risking anything, truly."
Cameron ended up agreeing. How could he not? Refusing Dave wasn't something he was sure he could do. Still, both of them agreed to try the spell after the fishing trip was over. One thing was to swap bodies; another was to do so with Dave's daughters present and while camping.
Cameron felt silly for taking such a thing so seriously, but he didn't want to go against Dave's wishes. To be fair, he did like the idea of becoming his crush. It was such a hot idea. He had already jerked off as he imagined it happening.
He just never expected Dave would also be into it.
Sleep came surprisingly easy. Despite Cameron's combined anxiety and enthusiasm, he fell asleep almost as soon as he got into his sleeping bag. Probably tired from a day that was more physically demanding than what he was used to. Still, it was a relief. He had feared he wouldn't be able to sleep at all. Having Dave so close at night… He had expected temptation, fear and gulit to cause insomnia, yet he couldn't have been more wrong.
As relieving as that was, Cameron couldn't help to feel some slight disappointment from not having enjoyed more a night where he slept so close to his attractive neighbor. Perhaps it was for the best. If the spell worked… Then he would enjoy more than mere proximity.
And even if it didn't... Maybe the spell was enough to open a door Cameron never expected to open.
They left Lottie and Charlie at Dave's ex wife house, as they drove back home after lunch. Dave's ex wife opened the door, and Cameron almost regretted being present. Although already in her late forties, Dave's ex wife was still gorgeous. She was exactly the kind of woman you'd expect a hot guy like Dave to be married to. Her name was Heather.
Dave and Heather were still very clearly fond of the other. They behaved like the best of friends. It was hard to believe they were divorced.
Cameron didn't want to feel jealous or upset, but it wasn't an easy thing to stop. Still, he behaved as pleasantly as he was able to be.
Thankfully, the rest of the car ride back home wasn't awkward at all. Dave was singing, slightly off key, alongside the songs of the radio. Cameron simply listened. He didn't know any of the songs, but he liked them because Dave so plainly enjoyed them.
For once Cameron was glad his cock wasn't big. The closeness, the effortless intimacy of the moment made him hard. Thankfully, his erection didn't show, as he kept looking at his neighbor drive and sing. Were it as big as he normally wanted, it'd be a rather difficult thing to conceal.
He had almost forgotten about the spell when they were finally at home. Both of them were at David's place. Sat on Dave's couch. Cameron was truly exhausted. He was about to say his goodbyes and go to sleep early, when Dave reminded him about the spell.
"Right," Cameron said, with a yawn. He took out his phone. It didn't have much battery anymore.
The page with the spell hadn't refreshed, so they were good to go.
After checking the pronunciation of the spell a couple of times, both men said the magic words at unison. Only to instantly forget them as soon as they said them.
Af first, nothing seemed to happen. Cameron was about to laugh and call it a day, when he felt his face itch of all the sudden. As he touched his cheek, he realized that stubble was growing on his face…
He had never been able to grow a beard before.
Cameron looked at Dave with widened eyes. Only to find Dave already looking at him the same way. His finger pointing at Cameron's fast growing beard. Yet, Cameron had forgotten about it already. For he was witnessing how the well trimmed beard of Dave's face was receding back into his skin.
Soon, Cameron had a full beard, while Dave's face was completely smooth. Cameron thought Dave looked younger, and that Dave had a really nice facial structure. The beard wasn't necessary, although it did increase his rugged appeal.
Both men went to Dave's bathroom. As it was the only mirror on the apartment. Once there, they noticed changes had continued. They had swapped eyebrows and hair color. Perhaps eye color too.
"It's real!" Dave said, touching his now beardless face. "The spell is real, Cam!"
Indeed it was. The effects only continued from there. And in a way that completely dispelled any doubt that may have remained. Cameron was the first to notice the room growing smallet. Looking at his reflection, his face was slowly going higher and higher, although he was still slouching slightly. He raised his borrowed brows, as his gaze traveled from his own reflection towards Dave's. The man was getting shorter. Going from his towering 6'3" to Cameron's average 5'9"!
"I don't ever remember what it felt like to this height. I think I was like thirteen when I was this tall," Dave said, looking down at himself. All his clothes were so baggy now. Way too big for him.
Cameron didn't reply. He was in shock. His clothes were too short for him now. His lower belly was plainly visible in the mirror. He had already gotten Dave's body hair. His treasure trail wasn't this obvious before. Cameron, originally, had a rather hairless body. With the index finger he traced the path the hair made from his belly button down to his pants.
"We probably should undress now. You may end up shredding all of your clothes otherwise!" Dave said. Was his voice higher, and a little more nasal? Cameron couldn't tell.
"I guess you're right," Cameron agreed.
I just hope I don't get hard before he does. That'd be so embarrassing…
Dave looked almost eager as he got rid of his baggy clothes. At least, in comparison with Cameron, who was a lot more hesitant. With his new height he looked even scrawnier than he already was. And even though the magic had proved real, he couldn't help but feeling insecure. What if the magic stopped working right now? Cameron would be even less appealing than he already considered himself to be.
Fortunately for Cameron, Dave had made the suggestion of taking off their clothes at the right time. For as soon as Cameron only had his underwear left, his body began to inflate with muscle. First, his shoulders broadened. Forcing his spine into a proper posture instead of his usual slouching. Then, his pecs ballooned out, heavy in the most delightful of ways.
Cameron's soft stomach contracted into itself. The lines of his abs marking themselves as if carved into marble. His waist reducing it's diameter, which gave his torso a proper inverted triangle look. As this was happening, his biceps thickened with muscle. veins growing more prominent.
His thighs followed. Quads expanding out, the widest point touching even in a neutral pose. His calves also grew, showing the musculature of a man who didn't neglect his legs at the gym.
Then, his butt. Cameron was used to have a flat ass. Well, Dave had a generous backside. Cameron was barely able to take his boxers off, before the two globes of flesh made their act of presence. They were nice ass cheeks. Ones he could hold with his bigger hands, but not entirely. His new cheeks were simply too massive, even with his new manlier hands.
On the flip side, Dave had experienced the opposite transformation. His shoulders narrowed, he began slouching, his pecs deflated inwards, leaving him with a completely flat hairless chest. His sculpted stomach softened. Not with fat, simply with a lack of muscle definition. He could still see the relief made by his ribcage.
His arms and legs thinned into twigs. His hands turned slender and graceful, instead of thick and manly. His feet shrunk in size. Enough that, were he to try his normal shoes, they would feel like clown shoes.
Dave's bubbly butt deflated. As if it had been a balloon popped with a needle. It did keep a nice shape, just significantly flatter.
Both men, now naked, approached the mirror again. As their physiques had completely been switched, it was now the turn of their faces. Cameron's grew broader and more handsome A square jaw, a more prominent nose. Age also settled in, in the way the proportions of his face shifted, and some lines drew themselves faintly on his countenance. Some graying took place on his new beard. Making him, at last, the owner of David's face in its entirety.
Dave's features, instead, got younger. The skin smoother and of a fresher appearance, even though he had kept wonderful skin quality for his age. Face grew longer, more delicate. Less classically handsome, and more into a dull plain look. It was the kind of face that was easy to forget, yet no one would feel it was offensive to the eyes.
One last change was left. Cameron could only smile as he looked down at his crotch.
Cameron's dick had always been underwhelming. But now, as both his and Dave's grew hard at the same time, Cameron knew things would shift wonderfully. Originally, he had a four inches long dick. Yet, as seconds went by, it grew longer and longer. Veins making their presence known, as the member extended outwards in every way.
It was big. Not just six inches. Even seven was too short of a number. Cameron's new cock was eight inches long. And not just that, it was so thick… Cameron's cock was also thick originally, but here it was an asset instead of a hindrance (at merely four inches of length, being thick made his cock look even shorter than it actually was). This dick was the kind of cock he had only seen in porn, and never in real life. The best part? For the following week it was his!
This is the best part of this body swap! Cameron thought, smiling from ear to ear.
At the same time Cameron's cock grew, Dave's dwindled. It almost looked as if it was softening, despite remaining undeniably rigid.
Not everyday one can see a cock shrink to half of its size while remaining erect! Cameron could barely believe he had lived his whole life with such a small cock. He felt almost vindicated, as he remembered the humiliating rejections he had experienced multiple times.
Yet, to Cameron's fascination, Dave didn't seem upset about his cock thusly dwindling. On the contrary, he seemed too in awe to ever consider to complain.
And as their cocks settled into their new shapes, the body swap had reached its conclusion. In every single aspect, physically speaking, they had become each other. At least, for the oncoming week.
"This is awesome!" Dave said. His voice now completely lacked the depth and the authority it used to have. Instead, it was high and slightly nasal. "The spell truly worked! I can't believe it! I feel so young, Cam!"
Cameron laughed. To be fair, he did feel some of the downsides of age. His back had a faint pain he wasn't used to. It was manageable, however. A worthy trade to make, in his opinion.
"I hadn't considered the name situation," Cameron said, delighted as he heard the baritone of Dave's voice coming from his own mouth. "I guess we can call each other by our real names, but we should try to get used to the idea that, for the world, now I'm David and you're Cameron."
David laughed, and nodded.
"Very well, sir. I'm, from now on, Cameron. And you, old man? I guess you're the old man now… You're Dave. I guess it does suit you. When you're wearing my body and my face. You don't look much like a Cameron anymore. You look like David Moore. Completely..."
That's when both of them remembered their current state of undress. Cameron, despite being in his hot neighbor's flesh, still felt a small amount of embarrassment that was quite natural to his personality.
Yet, as he saw his former body inhabited by Dave, the shame soon evaporated. He smirked. Now, not only did he feel strong and powerful, he truly was mighty.
He was about to step towards Dave when he stopped dead. Holding his head. Dave was doing the same. A headache had struck them, much to their surprise. Cameron closed his eyes, and, as he did so, he learned the reason behind this sudden ailment: memories of a life that wasn't his flooded his brain. It wasn't a replacement, but an addition. The life of a straight man who was manly from the beginning. A man who did sports from childhood. A man who had plenty of pretty girlfriends until he found who he thought was the one: Heather. The mother of his two daughters.
Now he remembered their conception, their birth. He remembered decorating the nursery, building the cribs with his own hands. He remembered going fishing, or camping, or playing with them in the backyard.
He also could say every detail about Dave's divorce. How the love and the flame of passion had slowly deflated into mere fondness. How the last few times Dave and Heather had sex had been so purely mechanical, neither had felt any satisfaction.
At last, he knew everything that made David Moore be who he was. Not every secret had been revealed to him. Just what he needed to know. For example, no memory that recalled what David thought of Cameron were acquired.
Which didn't make Dave… Cameron feel much relief. Was there a reason why the magic would not give him those memories, when it had given him so many others that were significantly more private?
"Are you alright, son?" Cameron asked Dave, who was struggling more to recover. Cameron widened his eyes, not expecting that cadence and that choice of words. It felt so natural now, to speak thusly. In many ways, he felt more like Dave than like Cameron. Even down to his speech!
"Yeah… I… I think so…" Dave said, his voice less confident than usual. "I wasn't expecting that. I hadn't imagined…"
Dave stopped speaking, as he looked at Cameron. He bit his lip, his pale cheeks turning pink in such a cute way, Cameron wanted to kiss them. What? Why do I want that? He asked himself, his eyes fixated on his former face.
Then he remembered that the spell had kept him gay, as he had so requested. Cameron had almost forgotten. Dave's memories were so much more abundant than his own, that it was almost easy to let slip he was actually a gay man.
The best proof that he was still as much of an homosexual as he had been originally, was that his hard on was still proudly up. Not only from loving the reflection that met him in the mirror… But also because Dave was such a cutie to him now. Which was almost an unsettling thought. He had never considered his original body to be cute. Yet perhaps this sort of thing did change based on whose body one was inside of.
Attraction was weird, that way.
"Dave… I wasn't expecting feeling so different," Dave said. The now younger man had not realized he was using his original name to refer to Cameron. Or, perhaps, he had done it on purpose. "My mind doesn't feel the same at all. Almost as if I had almost entirely become you."
"Does that scare you?" Cameron said, raising Dave's chin, making Dave look up at him.
The eyes were wide open. Big and brown. Scared, yet so wanting. Cameron recognized the look. It was at once perplexing and amusing he wasn't the one sporting it.
"A… A… A little bit, yeah," Dave said, voice thin. "But it's also exciting… And kind of hot."
Cameron kissed him then. Holding his former face firmly yet with softness and care. Dave had gasped, yet immediately leaned into the kiss. His bony arms surrounding Cameron's neck. His thin fingers losing themselves on Cameron's hair. Both naked bodies pressed against the other. One muscular and mature, the other lean and youthful.
As their cocks grazed, however, both men leaped back, breaking their kiss. Panting. Lust and horror combined in their features as they recovered from their almost frantic making out.
Not because they disliked touching each other to such a high degree. But because both wanted more. Both wanted to continue, to cum in each other's arms. Yet, they both knew they couldn't. They had put up the rule they couldn't have sex. If they were to fuck, they would lock themselves in each other's body forever. The horror wasn't the possibility of getting stuck this way. But rather how much neither of them seemed to mind it...
"I better go," Dave said. Still out of breath. His new body wasn't in great shape. "I should go."
Dave took Cameron's clothes, and quickly dressed himself. He gave one last longing look to Cameron, biting his lip, and ran towards Cameron's apartment. The place that for the following week Dave would have to call home.
Cameron was sad to see him go. But knew it was for the best. Had he stayed, neither would have been able to keep their lust at bay. Maybe, if they ended up truly enjoying the experience, perhaps they could use another spell next time. One that would actually allow them to fuck like bunnies without any issues.
With a laugh, Cameron decided he had to use the remaining hours of Sunday to get familiar with his new physique. So he went to his new bed, and began playing with the new huge cock he now owned.
"This is gonna be great!" Cameron said, all the more delighted at hearing his deep voice, as he stroked the monster between his legs. "I won't waste this chance."
Hey I’m Mark I love this tumblr it’s been a secret fantasy to have someone shrink my cock down to barely nothing while theirs grows. I’m rather gifted in that department as I have a 9.5” cock. But part of me is horrified at the idea of it shrinking at all and part of me is turned on by the idea and even by how humiliated it would make me feel. I think I’m ready to take the plunge tho just wish my fantasy could be a reality.
The first thing you must know, is that there's no going back. Thus, unfortunately for you, it's too late to turn back now.
Let's set the scene:
You were on your couch, at night. Laying lazily, phone in hand. Scrolling down Tumblr, hunting out the next story to jerk off. Maybe one where you could insert yourself. One where someone steals your cock size, being powerless to stop it. Scared and horny at once. Humiliated and turned on by the same humiliation.
Your hand was holding your sizable tool. It was truly a beauty of a prick. Half an inch shy of ten inches. You knew you were gifted. You knew you had a blessing most guys would kill for. And yet, a part of you greatly desired to lose it. For another man to take it from you. Maybe one who could actually appreciate it.
Shivers went through your spine as your hand stroke that massive piece of flesh. A smile on your face. You would never lose it, would you? Magic isn't real. A fantasy never hurt anybody, did it?
A knock.
You leapt from your couch. Your hand quickly leaving your erection unattended. Who could it be? Who could be calling at your door at this time of the night?
Open the door.
Feet were moving before you could understand you were walking. Hands unlocking the door, trembling clumsily. You didn't know why, but you felt at once excited and terrified to open the door.
Open it. Open it. Don't be shy.
Slowly, you opened the door. Holding your breath with an anticipation you weren't sure was good or bad.
Disappointment struck you like a kick in the balls. You weren't certain what you were expecting, but certainly you didn't hope to see... Well, him.
It was your neighbor. An middle aged, fat, balding man. In an unhappy marriage, with too many kids, and a face that not even in his youth could have been called handsome.
Unfortunately, you had seen him naked once. He and and his wife didn't close the curtains, and you got to see their quick and unsatisfying attempt at sex. You almost simply stopped being a voyeur as soon as you realized what you were seeing, but something made you stop dead. Your neighbor's penis was everything yours wasn't. It was barely two inches long. While hard. And it wasn't a nice looking one either. Too skinny, with the head being too thick for the body. He was cut too. With heavy big balls, on a wrinkly ballsack.
You had done everything in your hand to forget that incident. But sometimes, on nights you couldn't sleep at all, you remembered it. Your neighbor's tiny cock. The first time you thought about it, you were already jacking off. But instead of stopping from the disgust, you kept going. Fantasizing about your neighbor taking your size for his own benefit.
It will never happen, but a man can dream!
"What is it, Earl?" You asked, trying to keep your tone polite. Yet how vexed you actually felt could easily be perceived, despite your efforts.
"Nothing much, Mark, nothing much," Earl replied with an awkward chuckle, his eyes shining strangely as he looked at you. "I just wanted to ask you for a favor, if you don't mind?"
A sigh left your lips. Your erection, obscene as it was, throbbed inside your pants. Demanding to be relieved. But as long as Earl stayed at your door...
"What favor? What do you need?"
Earl smiled. A weird, wicked looking smile. You gave a step back instinctively. You should close the door. Don't close the door. Shaking your head, you looked at Earl again.
In his hand, he was holding a little device. It reminded you of an old USB stick MP3 player. It had a pink button, and a blue one.
"The favor is really simple, Mark. Really simple," Earl said. "I got this little gift from a mutual friend. Mr. Hexum. A Phallex, he called it. I thought it was a stupid thing, but he showed me how it worked."
Earl stepped forwards, getting inside your home. You hadn't invited him in. He closed the door behind himself.
"It's a miraculous little trinket. Truly very simple," Earl continued. "It allows the transfer of size between two men. But not any type of size. No, no, no. See, Mark, this little device can swap the size of one specific thing: a man's prick. It's in the name: Phall for phallus, and ex for exchange. Phallex, clever, huh?"
You gulped. It had to be a joke, right? A bad, terrible joke. Earl must have hacked your phone. Read about your fantasies. And is trying to prank you with a badly named scifi device.
Yet... He never was a man fond of practical jokes. Earl normally was the dull, boring, inexpensive kind of guy. Stoic not due to a philosophical standing, but out of a performance of dull masculinity. You didn't associate mischievousness with him. Earl was too serious, too angry, too miserable.
It's real, and you know it. It's real... It's real...
"And... Do you want to test that on me?" You guessed, your heart beating faster, your mouth suddenly dry.
"Test it? No, Mark. We're past testing. Mr. Hexum made it clear you had a specific dream. A fantasy. I'm here to help him make it reality. To put you in the exact place you want to be. Making your desired loss into my gain."
You fell on the couch, only then noticing you had been going backwards. Earl stood above you. It was so weird to see him smile. Especially that kind of smile. He was enjoying this.
A pink mist surrounded you both. No way of knowing where it came from. It didn't matter. As if alive, it went up your legs. And in its wake your clothes began to dissolve. Pants, underwear, shirt. All gone. Until you sat naked.
Similarly, Earl was naked too. His tiny two inch erection pointing towards you. And your own massive 9.5 incher was at full mast.
"Say bye to that beauty, Mark!" Earl said, pressing the pink button of the Phallex, pointing towards you.
The feeling was instantaneous. Your cock throbbed, and you felt it compress. The pressure was pleasurable. As if you were fucking a tight ass, only that instead of pressing at the sides, it did it all around your dick.
Yet, it wasn't as easy to observe how your cock changed. Not immediately. But on Earl? Even a little gain was noticeable. Your eyes widened as you saw his little prick grow longer. Thicker.
Before you were able to react, Earl's cock was already on the average size range. Not two inches. Not three. Not even four. But a comfortable, unremarkable five.
Which meant...
Looking again at your own cock, you didn't have nine inches anymore. Instead, it was six and a half inches. Three inches gone with the press of a button. You were still big, but so very close to average.
"What the..." You said, at once horrified, and hornier than you've ever been.
You leapt towards Earl, who had stopped pressing the button, examining his now average cock. It still kept the awkward shape, but it was both longer and thicker. It did seem more balanced than it used to be.
"What are you doing?" Earl asked, taken out his examination by you trying to get the Phallex from out of his hands.
Both of you fell to the ground. Wrestling each other for the magical device.
One thing was a fantasy. But another was to actually experience something. It was indeed hot seeing your cock dwindle. However, it was humiliating to be bested by your neighbor without even trying to retain what is rightfully yours. Indeed, just because you had jacked off to the idea of getting your size stolen, it didn't mean you would just let it happen now that it had jumped from your imagination to reality.
"Get off me! You wanted this!" Earl said, struggling to breathe. His flabby body all around you as the two of you rolled on the floor.
At last, you got it. The Phallex was on your hands. You just needed to reverse what he did and you would get your size back. It was just a matter of pointing at Earl and pressing a button...
As soon as your thumb grazed the pink button, the device disappeared from your hand.
"Silly boy," Earl said, cackling as he struggled to get up. "Mr. Hexum warned me, that although you wanted your size stolen, the idea also terrifies you. He gave me a failsafe. The Phallex is bound to me. Only I can use it. Only I can transfer inches between the both of us."
Your blood grew cold at the revelation. Precum left your cock at the same time. Mouth slack, you were unable to come with any sensible response.
"You know, Mark? I was only going to take three inches. Enough for me to improve my sex life plenty, enough for me to finally satisfy my wife so she doesn't leave me for a hung guy. But you would still have a good size. Most men would be perfectly content with the size you now have... However, after this stunt you pulled... Maybe you don't deserve to have a big cock at all."
"Don't you..." You yelled, not even getting to say 'dare' before Earl pressed the pink button.
The compressing feeling returned. But more intense. Earl was pressing the button with all his might. You immediately looked down. Your cock was slowly dwindling down. You held it with your hand. And you could feel it sliding down your palm.
Six inches. Five, then four. Three... And finally, two.
Earl had completely reversed your sizes. His cock was now nine and a half inches. While yours was barely two. Your fist was too big to jerk off. A tear fell from your eye. A pressure came from your balls, as if you were on the verge of orgasm despite your misery.
"You look wonderful with a peanut dick," Earl said, stroking his new massive tool. "Although don't take my word for it. I ain't a homo like you. Now Linda won't ever be disappointed by my cock again. All thanks to you."
Hands turning into fists, you looked at Earl with determination. You walked towards him, trying to intimidate him.
"Give me my size back!" You demanded.
Too close. You were too close. The tip of Earl's massive prick was touching you. Trapped between your stomach and Earl's hefty gut.
Earl smirked.
"Nah. I don't think I will. At least, not unless you stop that attitude of yours. You are not in control here, Marky boy. I am. I don't take orders from peanut dick losers such as you."
Your cheeks burned with humiliation. He was the peanut dick, not you! Your tiny dick throbbed at the title. I have a peanut dick, now... Biting your lip, you wondered what to do. Was there anything you could do to convince him? Anything you could do to regain your stolen size?
A wave of disgust invaded you. The plan you concocted in that instant almost made you throw up, but it may be the only chance you may get.
Instead of resisting. Instead of wrestling Earl for the Phallex again, you knelt. On your own volition. Before anyone asked you.
Earl raised his eyebrows, then laughed. His free hand cupped your chin, making you look up at him. His face was somewhat obscured by his beer gut. It wasn't a handsome face. It wasn't ugly, either. The best word for it may be uninteresting. Dull. But Earl smug satisfaction and dark disposition made him significantly unappealing in your eyes than he would otherwise be.
"That's better, peanut dick. Maybe, just maybe, if you make me cum I'll let you have some inches back. I've never had a guy suck me off, but there's always a first time for anything. And since it's you, it's even better. I'm so tired of seeing you act as if you're better than me... To think this was all your doing... Had you kept your wish for yourself, you wouldn't need to do this."
His chubby hand caressed your hair with malice. You didn't move. Instead, your hands went to hold Earl's massive schlong.
It truly was a thing of beauty. Regret made your stomach feel heavy. Did you really want to give that size up so badly?
Looking down at your two inches, you were still unsure about the answer. Half of you screamed a frantic no, imploring you to fix this. The other half, however, couldn't experience a higher level of delight.
Sucking Earl off wasn't something you wanted to do. But what choice did you have? You just needed to filter it out your mind. Think of something else. Move mechanically, instinctively, while your brain goes elsewhere.
Of course, that was easier said than done. Earl's cock was so big now. His cock head still was bigger than the body, even if it was more balanced now than when he was the one with a cocklet. You needed to pay attention if you wanted to get that big cock head inside your mouth.
Swallowing your saliva, you began to work. Extending your jaw downwards as far as it could go to make place for your neighbor's cock.
You didn't expect it to taste so good. Opening your eyes, you saw the pink mist had returned. Had it changed the taste of Earl's skin, or simply your perception of it? Whatever the case it was a kindness. A twisted, ironic kindness. One that was pointless to complain about, yet felt too demeaning to be like it.
Fortunately, Earl was as horny as you were. Maybe the pink mist was helping you. It was caressing the parts of Earl's cock your mouth couldn't cover. It was massaging the sagging man, hardening Earl's pale nipples. The mist was playfully playing inside Earl's asshole. Most likely reaching for the middle aged man's prostate.
Once Earl closed his eyes, as he was about to cum, you acted swiftly. Moving your hand towards the Phallex, you tried to press one of the buttons. You knew the pink one had shrunk your cock, thus, the blue button may make it grow.
Your finger almost pressed it. You were grazing it with the tip of your finger, when Earl moved the Phallex away as if burned. All while filling your mouth with his heavy, thick cum.
Once his cumming ceased, he pushed you away. Disillusioned as you were, you fell on your ass, not making an effort to remain kneeling.
"What a naughty boy you are," Earl said, crossing his arms. Chuckling. "You really had to try and trick me, huh? How stupid can you be? It wouldn't have worked, Mark. I was ready to give you back some size. I truly was. I know what it is to have a small cock. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, even on arrogant assholes such as you. But you don't deserve my mercy. You deserve to be punished. You deserve the exact life you wished for."
He pressed the pink button again, to your dismay. Your eyes widened as your peanut dick diminished even further. In all this while it had grown thinner, but not much so. It was mostly getting compressed. And now, it kept going closer and closer to your crotch. It wasn't becoming a pencil dick. It was mostly getting shorter and shorter.
Until... You only had half an inch out. Less than that. And only because you were hard. It was clear that, once your cock softened... You would have an innie.
The idea was horrifying. Yet you felt your balls (also reduced in size) contract up, as if clenching from excitement. A grunt left your mouth as your button dick came undone. A meager, miserable amount of cum barely shooting outwards. Although shooting was too strong of a word to describe it.
"Look at that," Earl said, with a wicked smile. "I didn't know anyone could still cum with such a miserable excuse for a dick. It ain't even a cock anymore, is it? Is a male clit. A tiny button of flesh."
Your cocklet softened after that. And as you predicted, and as Earl had said, it looked like a button. Barely a small fraction of the head showed. You couldn't even stroke it with two fingers. Not even when it was still hard would you have been able to stroke it. The only way to stimulate your man-clit would be massaging around it, for your penis was almost entirely an internal organ now.
The pink mist returned, one last time. Yours and Earl's clothes were neatly folded over your coffee table. Shoes close to them, on the floor. The mist cleaned the sad excuse for cum that had left your button dick. And then it faded away.
"One last thing, Mark," Earl said as he got his clothes back. "Only the same Phallex device can restore the original cock sizes between two men. Using anything else won't return your inches back. I confirmed it with Mr. Hexum. Only I have the power to grow your cock back to what it was, if I ever fancied it. No other magic, nor science, can restore what you lost."
Then, making sure to look at you in the eyes as he did it, he dropped the device on the floor and stomped on it with all his weight. You were already on all fours, trying to stop Earl's foot from doing what you feared he intended to do.
You were too late.
There, your last hope of recovering your blessed huge cock, lay broken into pieces. Impossible to repair, impossible to restore. You were stuck with an innie-cock forever. No matter what you tried to do. No matter where you sought for aid.
Earl's laughter could be heard as he left your residence. As you sat on the ground, lost in your delightful despair.
Days later, you looked at Earl fucking his wife through the window again. Your stolen size being used better than you ever got the chance to. His cock was almost a foot long. You didn't have half an inch. That night, alone in bed, you did your best to make your miserable excuse for a cock cum. And while you succeeded, it was mostly from the humiliation of the act rather than the stimulation of your fingers.
This was the life you wanted. This was what you wished for. And that was your existence for the rest of time, until the day you died.
Bill makes a favor to his boyfriend Douglas, and speaks with Douglas' younger brother Jonny to dissuade him of his incel and right wing views.
Things take a turn for the worse, however, the following day...
Inspired by this Reddit post.
"Can I ask you a favor?" Douglas said, as he was dressing up. "It shouldn't be much of a bother."
William, or Bill as he was called by closed ones, raised his eyebrows, surprised. Douglas tended to be the type of guy who asked for a favor directly, without any preamble. Although Douglas was generally submissive, Bill loved how direct Douglas could still be despite that fact.
Now they had just fucked. Bill was still naked on the bed, barely out of orgasmic bliss. And Douglas was being this polite? Downplaying whatever favor he wanted to ask? It was fishy, to say the least.
Bill sighed. He sat on the bed, looking directly at his boyfriend.
"Just tell me," Bill wasn't known for his subtlety, and he wasn't keen on losing time needlessly either.
Douglas laughed. But didn't look at Bill for a moment.
What does he want me to do that's so bad?
"Truly, it's nothing," Douglas said, although his voice contradicted his words. "Remember my brother? Jonny? Well, I need help with him. We, my mom and I, need help with him. I don't know how, but he's worse and worse no matter what we try to do. Maybe he'll listen to you. I hope he does. We're at our wits end, baby. And you're so smart, surely you can figure something out."
"What exactly is the problem?" Bill asked, almost severe on his seriousness.
Bill was already making a mental map of possibilities. He was a lawyer, so if they needed his help this badly, maybe Jonny had been involved in some sort of crime.
A scowl almost appeared on his face. But he controlled it. Bill didn't like Jonny. Or Jonathan, as that was his full name. They were very different. Where Bill was classy and intellectual, Jonny was simple and uncultured. They had never talked much, and the few times they did it was entirely out of obligation. The boy could barely hold any type of conversation. And the one he could hold, were hardly any pleasure to be in.
"He didn't do anything," Douglas replied, knowing what his boyfriend would be thinking. "Not yet, anyway. It's mostly that… Well, it has been going on for a while. But he hasn't been able to date anyone, despite his efforts. And he has become more and more of an incel. This week our mom caught a MAGA cap in his room too. And he always listens to those terrible podcasts about how bad women are. It's awful. We're worried sick, baby. I know you could talk sense into him. You'd be able to convince death to turn back if you wanted to."
Bill chuckled, but with no real amusement.
Realistically, he knew it was a lost cause. Jonny was exactly the kind of guy who would end up utterly convinced by that kind of backwards rhetoric. If anything I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. Bill closed his eyes. He really didn't want to speak with his boyfriend's brother. But it clearly was important to Douglas. And anything that's important to Douglas, it was a priority to Bill.
"Sure. I'll talk to him. After work," Bill promised, as he stood up from bed.
There was plenty of time before he had to be at the office.
"You're the best, baby. The absolute best," Douglas said, kissing Bill on the lips. "I'll have to reward you this evening in some way, for this favor."
"Is that so?" Bill said, with a smirk, as he held his boyfriend's face.
A pretty face. He didn't look at all to be almost twenty eight. Blond, blue eyed, lean. Douglas could easily pass for twenty one. And unlike Jonny, Douglas had class. Or knew how to fake it well.
I should take him to my tailor again. He needs new clothes. He's my little doll.
Bill gave him a deep kiss after Douglas nodded. He grab one of Douglas ass cheeks. Douglas ass was wonderful. He had just fucked him, but the promise of fucking him again on the evening had already gotten him hard.
"Go get ready, now. You got work," Douglas said, laughing. "Plus you are going to leave all my clothes wrinkled."
"Can't have that," Bill said with a smile, walking towards the bathroom to take a shower.
It wasn't dinner time yet. Bill wasn't the type of man who delayed unpleasant things, so as soon as he arrived at the apartment owned by Douglas' family, he asked about Jonny after the proper greetings.
The apartment wasn't especially noteworthy. Compared with Bill's penthouse, it looked barely sufficient. But Bill knew not everyone was as fortunate as he was. Douglas, as beautiful and elegant as he could be, was relatively poor compared to Bill. Still, Douglas had never wanted him for the money.
No, he loved Bill's cock way more than his wallet.
As Bill reached Jonny's room, his nose wrinkled in disgust. A foul stench invaded his nose. And the door was closed! Bill stomach twisted as he imagined how terrible the smell would be inside the room proper. He forced himself to ignore it, and knocked at the door.
"Ugh! What?" Jonny said, from inside the room.
Jonny's voice was deeply unpleasant to Bill. Although deep and masculine, the nineteen year old spoke like a moron. The lack of neurons so evident from his slurred, slow enunciation, as well as his simplistic, almost minimalist, choice of vocabulary.
"Jonny, It's Bill. Douglas' boyfriend," Bill said, clearly, his voice even and smooth. "He asked me to talk with you. May you open the door?"
A series of groans could be heard. Followed and accompanied by stomps. Jonny opened the door then, and Bill did his best to keep his countenance neutral.
But God, the smell.
It was intense. Sweat, dried cum, stale food from all the dirty plates laying on the floor.
The room was almost entirely kept in darkness, except for a cheap lamp and the computer screen, which showed a paused porn film. Disgusting. The bed was a mess. The desk was a mess. The floor was a mess too. Everything in that room was dirty and disorganized. Bill already was losing his patience, and the whole conversation had yet to start.
"So what did Doug wanted for us to talk about, bro," Jonny said sitting on his gamer chair. He had a dopey smile on his face.
The chair creaked under his weight.
Jonny was a big guy. Despite being merely nineteen, he looked somewhat older than Douglas. Probably due to being so much taller (around 6'6" easily), and fuller in figure. Jonny was a jock, clearly, but he did seem to be bulking compared to the tight and lean bodies of Douglas and Bill. Cruelly, Bill could help but think Jonny's bulking had gone a little too far.
The guy wasn't ugly. But Jonny wasn't the kind of man Bill liked. Douglas had delicate, slender features. While Jonny was broad and sturdy. His face was basically a square, his blond hair short and awkward, on a texture cropped that probably hadn't been styled since it was cut. He had some light acne, instead of the smooth well taken care of skin Douglas had.
And he smelled so bad. As if he hadn't showered after going to the gym. Or after playing football. Bill remembered Jonny was a football player. That didn't improve his opinion of Jonny in the slightest.
It probably didn't help all his dirty, sweaty laundry was festering on the floor. The windows were closed too, keeping the smell inside.
"How do you feel about women, Jonny?" Bill asked, preferring not to seat anywhere.
He already wanted to burn his shoes. He wouldn't sacrifice his pants too.
Jonny's stupid smile disappeared. As Bill knew it would. Bill was quite effective on his following argumentation. But as he knew very well, you can't debate with idiots. So even the best arguments would be wasted, independent of their actual quality.
Of course, the situation was even worse because Jonny's wasn't open to get questioned in any way, no matter how clever or amicable said questioning was. Besides, he did seem lost even when listening to simple ideas.
And listening to him? To his awkward, bigoted and short sighted responses? It was torture. Not only from how weak his arguments were, but also his diction, his vocabulary. Even his demeanor and posture were, at best, pitiable, and at worst pathetically despicable.
Eventually, after at least an hour and a half, Bill gave up. You can't force the blind to see, after all.
Yet Jonny wasn't done.
"You just don't get it, bro. You'll never get it. Females love guys like you, bro. 10 in looks, with a fat wallet and probably a fatter cock. Like, bro. You wouldn't last a day in my shoes."
Bill almost laughed.
In truth, he never had trouble seducing anyone since his early twenties, although he only tried things with women before coming out. So he understood why Jonny felt that Bill had a huge advantage over him, even if it wasn't entirely accurate that it had always been that way.
"I know very well what is to be undesired. I was an awkward kid growing up. You could look better if you put the effort. If you showered. If you dressed nicely. But it's not your body why women don't want you," Bill replied, tired. "It's the way you talk about them. How you perceive them. They're people, Jonny. They are not just walking pussies who deny you the sex you crave."
"It ain't so easy, bro," Jonny said, simply. "But what do you know, since you're a fag? You could have the best pussy, bro. But you don't want it. I'd kill to be in your position, bro."
That was it.
Bill simply walked away. Jonny was a lost cause if he could use the f slur so easily. Does he not care about Douglas? What's wrong with him? And he had already fulfilled his promise. Sure, he had failed. But he had spoken to the piece of shit that Jonny was. And that was enough.
He would apologize to Douglas. And then he could forget about it. At worst, he could just by an apartment for Douglas and his mother to stay in, and leave Jonny to his own devices. Although that's probably kill the stupid guy. Bill wasn't certain if the brute could even cook himself something to eat.
Bill said his goodbyes to Douglas' mother, and as soon as he left the apartment he called his boyfriend.
Back home, Douglas was already waiting for him. Exactly how he liked it. Naked, kneeling. Ass thoroughly prepared. Looking up with those baby blues of his. Ready to take Bill's shoes off. To undress him like a servant of ancient times. To obey Bill's every word, every order.
"You belong to me, babe," Bill said, holding Douglas neck as they fucked on the bed. Doggy style. "Only I can have you. Only I can make you cum."
And cum he did. On Bill's stroking hand. While being fucked by Bill's 8 inches long cock.
"Oh baby, yes…" Douglas said, his words interrupted by the cutest panting.
Bill continued thrusting. Now faster. He always waited until Douglas came before even trying to cum himself. Now he could enjoy Douglas' ass completely. While Douglas was already completely lost in the bliss. His body almost limp, trembling slightly under him.
Completely under his control. Like everything in his life.
"Baby, please… Cum inside of me… Please…"
Bill smirked. Douglas voice was heavenly. His already fast thrusting increased the pace. It was almost too rough.
"I'm gonna make you cum again. Hands free," Bill promised, as he held Douglas arms in place, so his boyfriend couldn't touch his own cock. While Bill never stopped fucking Douglas' bubbly ass.
Then, it happened. Bill knew. Douglas was trembling again, his voice ceasing to worship erratically, interrupted by a loud moan.
Bill straightened, taking Douglas up alongside him. Then, supporting his head on Douglas shoulder, he saw. Indeed, his boyfriend had came again.
He let himself finally come after that.
Both men lay together in bed. Bill was already thinking about cleaning the bed sheets.
"Let's take a shower. Together. Then I'll change the sheets. And we'll sleep soundly. How does that sound, babe?" Bill asked, as he cuddled with Douglas, massaging his boyfriend's thigh.
Douglas grinned at him. And was the first to stand. Tempting Bill with his butt as he walked towards the bathroom.
Bill soon followed, a predatory smile on his face.
Next morning, something was clearly wrong.
Why do I feel so heavy? And what's that horrid smell?
Bill sat up, holding his head. Eyes closed. He felt dizzy. Nothing felt right. The stench was all encompassing. Not only of the room, but also from his own skin.
Struggling, he opened his eyes. His mouth fell slack as soon as he saw his surroundings.
He knew the place. Not well, but he knew it. He had been there but yesterday: Jonny's room. Why am I in Jonny's room? How did I get here?
He didn't believe in silly things such as magic. But all alternatives were as equally as absurd. Bill felt magic had to be involved, somehow. This did not reassured him. Normally he would laugh at even considering the possibility.
But what other logical explanation was there?
He was on the bed. At his right there was a crusty sock. Bill jerked away, disgusted, and almost fell off the mattress.
Doing so, however, revealed his torso.
It wasn't his torso.
It wasn't hairy, for one. It wasn't lean, sculpted to perfection from years and years of discipline and strict diets. The skin was lighter too. Pale like Douglas' skin tone.
No, instead of his hairy abs, he had a flabby gut. He was stockier, muscular. But with flab over it. Bill shuddered. It can't be. No, it can't be...
Clumsily, he sat on the bed. He felt so bloated. Unused to this graceless, weighty body. His gut was even more obvious now. More rounded towards the front. Please, no… He stood up. Struggling to keep himself balanced for a moment.
Another deep breath. The mirror. I need the mirror. He has one. Each step was a stomp. He couldn't help it. He was unused to the weight. To the extra inches of height. Bill's apprehension only grew. At once avoiding the reflection, yet craving to see.
At last, he stood in front of the glass.
He was Jonny. Or rather, he was inside Jonny's body.
It wasn't possible. It shouldn't be possible. But it was true.
Bill was only wearing a jockstrap. One that didn't fit well. It was very tight at the butt. Bill grabbed his own ass cheeks. They were huge. Bubbly. Even bigger than what Douglas had. Almost unwieldy. And Bill knew Jonny had big hands already.
As if to add a point, he farted. Bill almost vomited. Somehow the new smell was worse than the already horrible stench of the room.
After calming down, Bill checked that the jockstrap also didn't fit on the front. There, however, ir wasn't tight. It was loose.
Now, normally he wouldn't want to look at Jonny's smelly junk, but he needed to know. The morbid curiosity was simply too great.
Bill let the jockstrap fall to the messy ground. And gasped. Looking at the reflection, and then back down at his crotch, a couple of times.
For a moment he thought the cock had been cut off from the body. But no. Soft as it was, it basically was only foreskin. In its limp state it didn't even reach half an inch. Perhaps not even a quarter. It looked absolutely ridiculous in such a huge football player's body.
How does he even pee with this thing?
It was too small to hold. Even if he wanted to simply stroke it, he would need to get hard first. Bill gagged at the idea. But he needed to know. Although he wasn't entirely certain this wasn't a nightmare, he had to check.
His new thick, sausage like fingers simply couldn't grab his cock. Bill had to use them around his cock, maybe fondling the tight small ball sack instead. Direct stimulation wasn't as useful as it would be on his real body.
Still, it was working... barely.
He decided to think about Douglas. Never mind he's my brother now, technically… Douglas didn't have such a small soft cock. He was average. Maybe, just maybe, Jonny was a ridiculous grower. Douglas was a grower too. So it stood to reason that Jonny may be a grower who gets a lot larger hard than when he's soft...
He wasn't.
Thinking about Douglas tight ass wasn't enough to do the trick. His eyes wandered through the room, and the sight of a female bimbo on a poster made him stiff with worrying quickness. Bill knew he was as hard as he could be. Yet… In his real body, he was bigger than this while soft. On the cold. Jonny's cock had to be, if lucky, two inches. And Bill felt it was a generous guess.
"Fuck… No wonder he struggles. Who wouldn't when stuck with this thing!" Bill said, suddenly wanting to punch a wall.
He stopped dead as he heard himself. The voice… predictably, was Jonny's. But Bill had expected the same vocal timbre. The issue was that… Bill had the same dumb slurring, the same slow and stupid way of speaking.
Now that he thought about it… Even his thinking was different. Instead of rapid, his thoughts felt like they were going through mud.
A notification sound distracted him.
Bill stomped his way to the phone. His cheeks were hot. He could feel the jiggle of his big ass and his flabby stomach. Jonny had more of a strongman build. And Bill couldn't get used to it. He missed his lithe, perfect physique.
Finally, the cellphone. It was cheap. Old. With a cracked screen. Bill didn't know the password. He used the face recognition. It didn't accept it.
Tip: Smile widely, Jonny boy.
Jonny boy? What does that mean? Confused, it took him a while to get to the obvious conclusion. This hadn't been an accident. Jonny had swapped their bodies. Somehow. He was prepared for this. Enough he changed the way his phone facial recognition worked. To mock him.
Annoyed, Bill obeyed the instruction. Maybe the notification had a way of fixing this. He hoped he could reverse it. There couldn't be a worse fate than becoming the little brother of the man he loved. Of the man he was ready to propose to.
After smiling, the phone unlocked.
The notification was from Instagram. Someone had sent him a video. The account? It was from William Sullivan. It was from Bill himself.
How did I send myself a video? Bill thought, before realizing that not only he hadn't. But obviously it had been Jonny in his body. Damn this dumb brain I'm stuck with…
"Hello, Jonny," The man who stole Bill's body said, his voice clear and precise. "You must have lots of questions."
Bill stupidly nodded. The other Bill was naked on the video. He was standing, on Bill's room. The camera showing a sleeping Douglas on the background. Also naked. The pristine and organized condition of the room made Bill's disgust with his current surroundings all the more acute.
"It'll make this short. I don't want to wake up my boyfriend, you know? Your older brother, if you couldn't remember. See, Jonny, after our conversation yesterday I came to the realization you needed to understand my position better. To walk a mile on my shoes, so to speak. So, I ended up using with you a neat little spell I found online some time ago. I didn't know if it was real, but nevertheless I was looking for the perfect vessel to inhabit. You were so close to being ideal, our little chat pushed the scales. And here we are."
Jonny's… No, Bill's eyes widened. So magic had been involved on this whole thing. He was right about that. Even if he wasn't happy that was the answer.
"It's funny. I almost didn't click it the first time. It was a pink site. Hexum something, I think it was called... I thought it was gay, but, something drove me to still press the mouse button. How glad I am that I did... How silly it seems, in retrospection. But never mind that, don't bother searching it up. I deleted my search history. And I have been unable to find the site again."
Bill had already sat on the gamer chair, one hand holding the phone while the other was about to reach for the mouse. Deflated, he continued watching the video.
"Even if you did find it, Jonny, it wouldn't matter. The spell effects are permanent. You're stuck forever as Jonny. Of course, that's who you always were," The Other Bill laughed, softly, trying to keep quiet to not wake Douglas. "No one will believe you if you try to tell someone, anyway. Especially because, wait for it: the beauty of this spell is that it does affect the brain too. You've noticed it, haven't you? How dumb you are now. How much you crave for pussy, instead of ass and cock?"
Jonny… No, he wasn't Jonny. He was Jonny! No… He was... He was... He was Jonny.
Jonny's cock lurched at the mention of pussy, despite his confusion regarding his own identity. He still knew he hadn't always been Jonathan, that this wasn't his real body. But he couldn't really say who he used to be.
"Don't worry. The magic will make you act exactly as who you are now. A dumb, misogynist douchebag. A loser with a micro dick who can't get a woman to date him even to save his life. A filthy gooner who only showers after practice because coach threatened to kick you out if you didn't. You'll have no choice but to live that life, Jonny. For a year, at the very least. After that, if your sense of self remains strong, you may be able to recover some of your true personality. But I wouldn't count on it."
Bill smiled menacingly on the screen.
"Sad thing, now that I have your intelligence, I know that you were right. Yesterday. On the whole woman thing. A pity. Also, I didn't think I'd enjoy being gay, but my former brother is hot as fuck. So don't worry about him, He'll be taken care of. Thanks for this python between my legs"
Jonny wanted to yell at him. To punch him. To do anything. But was there a point? Realistically, there wasn't. Despite the strength of his body, he was completely powerless in this situation.
"One last thing, Jonny boy. Enjoy being a micro dick loser for the rest of your life! There's nothing you can do about it. And before you think about showing this video to anyone… No, it's better if you discover it yourself. Bye now, future brother in law. I think you have practice soon. Wouldn't want to be late, if I were you."
The video stopped. Jonny thought about sending the video to Douglas. He could maybe fix it. But when Jonny tried to send the video, he realized a horrible thing.
It was a one time video. He couldn't access it anymore. It was gone. Deleted as if had never existed.
To add salt to the injury, Bill sent another small video. Also one time, like the previous one. A video of him waving goodbye from the car Jonny used to own. Douglas laughter could be heard too, out of frame.
Jonny was trapped. Forever stuck as the little brother of the man he loved… That he used to love. Imaging him now didn't do anything for him. His cock only got soft, into it's depressing less than a quarter of an inch state. Thinking about Douglas only became less and less sexy, less and less romantic, the more times he did it. To think he wanted to marry him only made him gag now.
He is my bro after all. Well, no just a bro. The Bro. The blood bro…
The wallowing that followed was interrupted by an alarm. As Bill had said, he had practice soon.
Jonny quickly got dressed. His body almost in autopilot as he got ready, and went to where he needed to go. Jogging, as he was instructed. Somehow he knew the route to the most minimal detail. As if it was one he did every day.
During practice, he spent a great part of it shirtless. He didn't want to. He truly didn't want to. The flab of his stomach made him miserable. But Jonny always used any opportunity to be shirtless, so the current Jonny had to do it too.
Once practice ended, one severe look from the coach was enough to make Jonny hit the showers. Jonny didn't want to go. He knew he should want to. He reeked. His stench was so awful. But a growing part of him didn't care about getting clean. It is a man's smell, I should be proud of it... Plus… He didn't want his teammates to see him naked.
They can't know about my pee pee.
Pee pee? Jonny tried to think of it as a cock, or a dick. But his first impulse was to think of it as a pee pee. That only made his dread grow, as he went to the locker room.
Unfortunately, they seemed to already know.
"Tiny! It's good for you to finally join us! Go scrub yourself you stinky!" Someone said, taking off the towel Jonny was using to cover himself as he undressed.
"TINY! TINY! TINY! YOU CAN DO IT TINY! " His team began chanting, following Jonny to the showers. "YOU CAN SHOWER, TINY!"
They cheered as he began washing himself with soap. Water falling over his massive body.
The worst part of this situation, despite not finding any of the guys attractive anymore, was that he couldn't help but to be hard. Did he like the humiliation? No, he didn't. He hated it. He wanted to avoid it at any cost. But, at the same time… There was something exciting about it. The idea of being shamed made his balls tighten with desire.
Hard as he was, Jonny still was the smallest guy of the team, even though everyone else was soft. Something they all were aware of. Something no one would ever let him forget. Everyone else was soft, and so much bigger than him.
He wasn't Jonny to them. Not even Jonathan, or maybe Jon. No, for them, he was Tiny. And expecting anything else was pointless. The truth was obvious, even to a dumbass like Jonny.
After practice, some of his teammates and Jonny went to a nearby sports bar. There were plenty of women there.
Jonny tried flirting with all of them. Many seemed initially interested. He was hot, tall. They knew he was a football player. But after a couple of sentences out of Jonny's mouth… They grew bored and colder. Worse, they did end up joining Jonny's teammates willingly. Clearly wanting to have sex with them.
Just not with Jonny.
The last one, who had already seen Jonny's failed attempts, didn't even let him talk. She just giggled, making the tiny dick gesture with her hand before walking away.
Jonny's face grew red. Mad, and humiliated beyond repair. Primarily because he had almost came in his pants. Maybe he did cum a little, but not enough to truly notice.
"Dude, that was my sister," One of his teammates said, amused. "She's well aware you're Tiny. You never had a chance with her. And bro, I would still let you be with her. Because I've seen you struggle. You need all the help you can get, Tiny."
Jonny nodded. But he didn't really listen. He didn't want to.
Back home, as he jacked off to muted porn of a bimbo being fucked by a stud with a huge dick, Jonny also listened to a podcast talking about how women… No, females were destroying society by refusing to sleep with good right wing men.
"That's so right, bro. So right…" He said, as he struggled to hold his hard pee pee with his thumb and index.
His orgasm was underwhelming. A meager, watery amount of cum. On the same crusty sock he had been disgusted by earlier. He didn't need such a large sock. No, especially given that Jonny had huge stinky feet. The sock simply was too much room for a pee pee such as Jonny's. His pee pee didn't need this much amount of fabric. It never would.
But the sock was the closest thing he had to a pussy. And unlike a real one on a female, the sock did let him hit without any major effort. No matter how dumb, how smelly, or how much of an incel he was.
Once the year that kept his personality prisoner passed, Jonny didn't even notice. He had changed so inherently, there wasn't any other Jonny that could exist.
He wasn't invited to Bill and Douglas' wedding.
Note: I normally prefer not to use images, for a myriad of reasons. So this is an experiment to see if you lot prefer me to include images or not.
I've met this guy from the UK, chav Kai. He's a total scallt and my type. And he just sent me this package from jd with some kinda trackies in it? What'd you think would happen if i tried them on?
The package wasn't just from JD alone. In fact, the products inside were from a collaboration between JD's clothing line and Hexum Industries.
Which explains the pink box with the JD logo, now currently in your hands. Normally they just use a simple cardboard box.
You had told Kai that the package had arrived. Immediately, he sent you a link for Zoom through the Tumblr chat. Pressing the link, you were soon able to see his face.
How hard he could make you... It was almost embarrassing how much of an effect Kai had on you.
He was a total chav. The way he spoke... The way he wrote! It made it so obvious he wasn't a cultured man. Sometimes you even wondered if English was truly his first language, despite him being native to the UK.
Kai was a complete idiot. A dumbass with no parallel. Yet believed himself to be the smartest guy around. He was so confident, it tempted you to just accept whatever nonsense he spewed as gospel. After all, he loved to reward you. You still remember the dick pic he sent you. Unkempt, wild reddish and blond pubes, pale thighs at the bottom of the picture. Low hanging balls. And a huge dick. Girthy, slightly curved to the left, and uncut.
It was a porn star kind of cock. Almost too big to be real... More than once you had dreamed of it. Of flying to the UK, kneeling in front of Kai just to worship such an exquisite prick...
Now, regrettably, you weren't facing his wonderful cock. But his smug face. He had a Burberry cap on. Wss also wearing a fake Lacoste polo, and a tracksuit jacket over it. He was smoking. He always was.
"I was like... Waiting for ya to get m'gift, bruv? And, like, now ya got it. So open it, bruv. They're proper clothes, check 'em out." he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth, as he looked at you. "Be a good lad and rush. I'm sure you'll look proper fit, honest!"
Wasn't his accent so hot?
You opened the box, finding a gray tracksuit, black t-shirt, white Adidas socks, white sneakers and a silver chain. As well as gray Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
These weren't the kind of clothes you normally wore. Yet you recognized them. It was the kind of fashion a chav such as Kai would sport every day. It made you hold your breath with awe and excitement.
After all, you weren't a chav yourself. You were American. You were educated, currently doing a post grad. A life built for wealth and success... Completely unlike a chav's, who merely tried to imitate wealth without ever succeeding. Perhaps that's what made this so special. Perhaps that's what made this feel like the greatest gift you had ever gotten.
Because a proper chav was welcoming you. Allowing you to pretend, if for a second, that you were one of them.
It didn't matter there was a whole ocean between you and all the real chavs. You had always fancied them. You loved how they looked, how they spoke. Their vulgar and lower class simplicity. The abundant stupidity of their appearance, yet always enhanced by a certain masculinity that was so unique to them.
How many times had you fantasized about becoming one of them? Alone, at night, only accompanied by your trusty hand? You even loved imagining the dehumanizing way wealthier people would treat you, or think of you, were you to become a proper chav.
Meeting Kai, thusly, had always felt like a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it gave you an opening to see the world like a chav could and did. But it was a curse too, because it reminded you how you'd never be one of them.
This package? This gift? It was the nicest thing Kai could have ever done for you.
"Don't stand there lookin' thick, luv!" Kai said, interrupting your musings with a laugh. "Get off yer clothes! Let me take a proper look at ya! Then, you'll try 'em clothes on. Model them for me. How does that sound, bruv? It'll be a proper time, innit?"
Cheeks heated up as you nodded.
This was different to anything you had done before. One thing was to send and receive pics. But to get undressed in front of him? Sure, it was through a zoom meeting, but it felt so... Meaningful. So trascendental. Like this marked a before and after on your relationship with Kai. Were you truly ready for this?
You knew you would obey him. Not only because you wanted to. But also because you loved the idea of this ignorant sexy man giving you orders. A complete reversal of the real order of things. Were this in person, most would see you as above him.
No one had to know what you did in private.
First you shirt went off. A nice button up. It looked nice on you. Made you look professional.
Then the pants. Fancy dress pants. Somehow you knew they wouldn't look fancy at all if Kai was the one wearing them. Class and the features of his face were like water an oil. They repelled each other quite strongly.
Socks went next. You made sure to raise your feet up, so he got a view of how the nice dark fabric slid down your skin. Doing so for both feet.
Finally, your underwear. There was no reason not to get it off. He had already seen your dick before. And, besides, you were so hard right now that it was pointless to hide how excited you were from this. The bulge was so prominent enough it was impossible for Kai not to notice it.
Thus, you were naked. Kai was nodding, obviously appreciating the view. He was taking a drag from his cigarette.
"What a view, bruv. Yer a proper lookin' lad, so you are," he said, after exhaling the smoke. "Why don't ya turn around so I get to see ya whole, hmm? Gotta enjoy the view since I can't touch ya from here."
Biting your lip, you obliged.
You didn't go too fast. Allowing Kai some time to inspect your naked body. He whistled in approval, clearly enjoying this whole experience.
"The clothes, bruv. Try 'em on. It'll be like yer a proper chav like me. Promise ya that," he said, with a smile that should have made you pause.
Yet whatever hesitation or suspicion you may have had was utterly silenced by your horniness. The idea of becoming a chav, even if only as a role playing thing, was simply too arousing to ruin it with any kind of cynicism. Kai obviously couldn't have any ill intentions. What could he even do to you when he was on a completely different continent?
You took the Calvin Klein briefs. Were they real? Honestly, you couldn't say. They had to be new, right? But there were some flaws on the manufacturing that made you question that perhaps... Oh, who cared? This was about immersion, not perfect logic. So what if they were fake? Or if they were badly made? It would make the idea of becoming a chav all the more authentic.
Right?
They slid easily in place. Hugging your bottom very nicely. Playful, you moved your hips, showing your now clothed ass to the camera as you moved it from right to left.
And as you did so, your ass changed.
Both ass cheeks were inflating. Pushing the fabric outwards. It made you stop in shock. Looking at your own image on the zoom call, you witnessed your butt cheeks swelling. Until they were round, perfectly spherical. You now had an undeniable bubble butt. One of the nicest you've ever seen.
"This doesn't make any sense! What's happening to my butt...?" you asked, in shock. Was this a prank? Had Kai sent you boxer briefs with inflatable padding, or something of the sort?
A quick check was enough to prove that hadn't been the case. On the contrary, your butt had simply grown on its own. How? You had no explanation. Kai seemed awfully calm about it. Was he responsible? Or were you just imagining it?
Changes hadn't stopped however. For suddenly the briefs weren't as tight as they had become instant ago. You checked you ass, to see if the swelling had diminished to any degree, but no. Your new bubble butt remained unchanged.
That meant...
Looking at your bulge, you were devastated. As quickly as your ass had grown, your cock and balls were dwindling away! Hooking your thumbs on the waistband, you checked the damage. Whatever you had between your legs was not what you were familiar with. It was so small! An uncut tiny cock. Tiny even though it was as hard as it could be. It couldn't be more than three inches. Part of you feared it was closer to two!
And your balls? They had also shrunk. The whole ball sack higher and tighter. As if they had never dropped at all.
"Don't worry, bruv!" Kai said, with a grin that made you shudder. "I like my lads with tiny pricks. Makes 'em love my huge hog even more. Every one of 'em love to be dwarfed by me, honest!"
Shouldn't you be upset? Part of you was sure you should have. Yet Kai's words had made your devastation disappear as if it had never been there. Plus, it didn't matter how big your cock was. What mattered was how you used it. And since you liked guys like Kai to be in control... Well, you didn't need to use it for much beyond cumming.
No one needs a big cock for that. If anything, it may be easier to cum now than ever before...
"Put on the trousers now, luv!" he instructed, giving another drag to his cigarette.
Smiling... Because you were smiling for some reason, you followed his order. Taking the gray sweatpants, you put them on. Making sure the camera of your laptop was angled in such a way Kai could see you do it without any obstruction.
At first glance, the pants looked too big. Or maybe just too long? You just knew they wouldn't fit right. Not enough to complain. After all you were grateful that Kai had thought about giving you clothes to live your fantasy of being a chav. Even if just for pretend. If he had gotten the wrong measurement, it was an honest and easily forgivable mistake.
Yet, as you put them on... They seem to fit just right. It didn't make much sense, compared with the pants your had earlier. This pair was clearly longer and...
Why did the room feel smaller?
Checking your legs again, they looked longer. The fancy pair of pants... Of trousers look too small for you now.
Your legs weren't just longer, however. They had a really nice shape now. The shape of a man who plays soccer... No, football every weekend with his friends... Nice, well toned muscle, filled in the best of ways. Your thighs were just thick enough for your massive butt to make sense.
"What a sight, bruv. Yer shaping just right. Go on now. Get the shirt on, mate!" Kai said, distracting you again from your thoughts.
And so you put on the t-shirt. Immediately your physique began to change underneath. Lean, but in shape. Your pecs protruding enough to be considered as such. The t-shirt was tight, showing the trim shape of your torso exactly as it was now.
A sure bet was to say you spine had lengthened. The room looked smaller again. How tall were you now? Somehow you felt you had to be 6'1" feet tall. Maybe a bit more. Definitely not less.
Kai didn't let you get distracted with how much you had grown. He reminded you to keep putting on the clothes he had sent you. And so, you put on the jacket of the tracksuit. As you did, your arms changed. Although still lean, as the rest of your body, they filled with muscle. The muscles of a real man... The muscles of a working lad...
It was funny. Normally you would describe yourself as skinny. That wasn't inaccurate now. But, it was different. Now you were toned too. Trim. Like a man who wasn't just thin, no. You were strong. You were masculine. And you knew how to use these lean muscles when the occasion called for it.
Next were the socks. Kai reminded you. What would you do without him? He was so good at giving orders. It was so easy to just obey him, to just do whatever he wanted. Even if it was obvious. You were getting dressed, and your feet were still bare. Of course you needed your socks! But you hadn't thought about it yet. Not until he said to put them on.
Then the sneakers. They looked so much bigger than your usual shoes. In fact, they were next to each other. The sneakers were easily three sizes bigger. Surely they wouldn't fit? They had to be too big... There was no other possibility...
You hadn't given any of your measurements to Kai, now that you thought about it. Why had he bought you clothes? There was something weird about that, wasn't there? Then again, maybe he was just being nice... Kai always knew what to do... Why assume any ill intent?
Somehow, despite your scepticism, the sneakers were the right fit. They were huge, and yet... They weren't too big. If anything they felt a little snug. Well, you just had to break them in! All shoes were a bit snug at the beginning, weren't they?
"Yer almost ready, luv!" Kai said, as he finished his cigarette. "Only one thing left. Only one thing until you look like a proper chav!"
You laughed. Oh, how much you wanted to believe him! But you knew things didn't work that way. Clothes didn't make the man despite the saying. Your hair certainly was too dapper for that. Your eyes looked too intelligent. And you were healthy. Never smoked. Never drank. This was all pretend. Nothing more.
You took the chain in your hands. It was a nice one. Not something you'd consider using if it weren't for Kai's kindness and encouragement. Looking at the image of your face, as well as Kai's, on the screen of your laptop, you decided to put the chain on.
Eyes widened as soon as you did. It was unbelievable! Your face began to shift almost immediately! So did your hair!
The face was masculine, yet young. Younger than you were, at least. Not that you were old, at twenty three. You just felt younger, as if you had just turned twenty recently. The irises of your eyes had also changed. They were lighter now. Green? Blue? Maybe Gray? It didn't matter. Whatever color they now sported, it wasn't the usual brown you had grown up with.
Your new beard was something you felt proud of. Although, in your heart of hearts, you knew you shouldn't be. It clearly wasn't full, and it would take a lot of time to look like a proper beard. If ever. But it didn't matter how wispy your facial hair was. It was a way lf showing how manly you truly were. That was more valuable than anything.
As for your hair? You now had a fade. On the sides and the back. All the length was at the top. Still short, mostly messy. And you thought it was lighter too. Closer to blond than to black, even if it was still brown.
Overall, you were unrecognizable. Even to your own eyes, you didn't look like the American doing a post grad. But like the a regular chav from the UK. If you sat next to Kai at a pub, no one would see anything worth paying attention.
It was impossible to help the smile forming on your face. Your teeth! They were different too! Slightly crooked, not as white. They did look healthy overall, but in a more natural way. A guy with such teeth probably never needed braces.
"Woah, bruh! Look at that. I'm a proper chav now, innit?" you claimed, ecstatic.
Only to cover your mouth in shock. What was that? You hadn't intended to speak like a chav! In fact, any time you had tried to use the accent before—always alone—you did multiple and obvious mistakes. Your accent now was identical to Kai's!
Even the register was different. Deeper. Slower. Rumbly. With a lazy, almost clumsy way of saying each word.
"Bloody hell! Is that me voice, bruv?" you asked, looking at the screen, looking at the ever smiling Kai for any sort of explanation.
"It is, luv. So it is," he said, as if he was the wisest of men. "Exactly what ya wanted, I'm sure. To become one of the lads! And that I did, so I did."
Although the marvel you were feeling was great, that still gave you pause. What did he mean? How could he have done this? Magic wasn't a real thing, so it's not like...
Wait. Why were you denying magic's existence? You looked completely different! You sounded completely different! In no way you could recognize yourself anymore. No one could!
And... Why was it so hard to think about anything? Something here was fishy. It had to be. You just couldn't figure it out. A part of you knew it had to be obvious, yet any time the conclusion felt on your grasp, it just seemed to promptly fly away out of your reach.
"The package, me dafty!" Kai said, with a chuckle. "That's what changed ya, luv. I chose the clothes meself. It was like so great too. This clerk bloke told me I needed to see these magical clothes. That they'd 'life changing' or whatever. Didn't believe 'em. Why would I? But cheap it was, so I bought' em. Cheaper than any other clothes I e'er bought, bruv. And now I saw how it made you into a chav just like me! Well, almost... Couldn't have me fella be any smarter than me, could I, luv?"
Just like him...
No. That couldn't be true! Sure, the idea of becoming a chav was hot. But as long as it was skin deep. The way Kai described the transformation... It didn't sound so superficial. If your intelligence was on the line...
Your stomach plummeted. You were proud of your smarts. Of your effort, of your education. The idea of losing them was hot, certainly. But only as a fantasy. Actually experiencing it was a other matter entirely.
But were you really dumber? Perhaps Kai was just being cheeky. Laughing at your needless panic. There had to be a way of turning back right? There was no way Kai had transformed you permanently without asking you. And he had no way of telling of you were any stupider... Or did he? You couldn't be sure.
This had to be a role playing thing. It simply had to be.
"Don't worry, bruv. Don't stress that smooth brain of yers. Yer too thick now. And it's only going to get worse. Betcha ya don't even remember a thing 'bout what you've studied, huh?" Kai's voice was trying to be soothing, but they only felt chilling.
"I do remember!" you yelled, yet your deeper voice sounded uncertain. "I studied for years, bruv. Years! I ain't so thick as you say... I'm proper smart, I am! Like, for example..."
Suddenly your mind was blank. You couldn't remember a thing of what you've studied. Not even the basics. Even the most introductory of lectures had completely been erased from your brain.
You stepped back, unable to say a word. Eyes widened in panic. This couldn't be! You were smart! You were educated!
But were you?
Memories of going to college were quickly disappearing from your mind. The idea of doing a post grad was ridiculous. Not only because you were too young, but also because you couldn't even recall finishing high school anymore. Did you? Honestly you couldn't tell.
You just knew you didn't study for your A levels... Wait a minute! You weren't British! You'd never even have the chance to try those tests! Instead you had to... As all Americans, you had to...
What did you had to do? What did you do?
"Fuck, bruv! I can't... I can't remember shite," you said. "It's like I never went to college, bruv. What did ya do to me?"
"What ya wanted, luv," Kai replied, laughing. "Didn't ya say it? How hot ya thought us chavs were. How hot it'd be to become one of us. There's no point on complaining, mate. This is yer life now."
"That's not... It can't be true, bruv! It just can't!"
Your voice didn't sound convincing at all. It was hard not to simply believe was Kai was saying. Of course you liked the idea of being a chav. But only when it was a fantasy, when there weren't any real consequences. When you wouldn't lose everything just to embody this erotic drea..
"But it is, luv. Proper truth, I swear," Kai replied, taking a final drag of his cigarette, and then blowing the smoke towards the camera. "I can prove it, even. Try to tell me yer name. Just try. I assure ya, you won't remember it."
A smile formed on your lips. Of course you remembered your name. It was... It was... What was it?
"It's Jayden, bruv. It is now, that is," Kai said. "Suits ya. A good name for a proper chav such as yerself."
You shook your head. That wasn't your name! It couldn't be...
Yet every time you tried to remember your real name, none other appeared. Only Jayden. Your surname was different too. Something common. Something a working class lad could have that would not raise anyone's eyebrow.
"This can't be! It's not me name, bruv! I ain't a chav for real! It's the clothes, bruv! Just the clothes! I'm a smart fella! I'm American, bruv!"
It was almost worth a face palm. Until now you hadn't been able to think about removing your new clothes. You were transformed from wearing them. It was only logical that removing them would reverse the effects. Or so you sorely hoped.
Perhaps you hadn't thought about it because they were so comfortable... As if they were made for you to wear... As if it was the proper thing for you to wear... Why would you want to go back to your stuffy clothes?
No! That wasn't what you truly believed in! You had to take these clothes off. Pronto. There was no other way of returning to your original self.
"Just try, luv," Kai said, with a smirk that should be infuriating yet you couldn't help but find ridiculously hot. "Just try..."
Your hand immediately went to your pants trousers. You tried to pull them down and...
You weren't at home anymore.
In fact, you weren't even standing. Suddenly you were at the driver's seat of a car. How did you even get it in here? And when? It was so dark out. That didn't make sense. The sun was still up just a moment ago.
Kai's window showed it was night where he lived... Maybe...
No! That couldn't be it. You couldn't be suddenly transported to the UK, right? That was impossible. You were, like... How far was the US from the UK? It wasn't something you could remember, but at least you knew there was like a sea in between... Or was something else? Maybe a desert? That couldn't be right...
Bloody hell it was difficult to think!
Thankfully, the car was parked. Your level of agitation most certainly would have made you crash, otherwise. The question was: where were you? And why were you in this car?
It wasn't a nice car. Not only because it was dirty, with rubbish everywhere while also having an obnoxious cigarette smell. But also because the car looked old, and cheap. Something that had to be inherited, or bought second hand.
Looking outside, you were in the parking lot of an apartment building. Of a council state, to be precise. With a gulp, you left the car, wondering how would you get back home.
Or even if there was a home to return to.
Feeling lost, you leaned on the car. Your car, since you had the keys for it. It was locked now. It was your doing.
Not thinking about anything at all, you surprised yourself once you lighted a cigarette. Your new body was so used to the move, it hadn't required a conscious thought at all. It was almost scary.
Am I even myself? I can't recall a thing... Just Jayden, bruv... I'm just Jayden...
Such a thought made you crave the soothing feeling smoking gave. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to this addiction an hour ago you would have not partaken in at all.
It felt so natural now.
"Oi! Jayden, luv! Why are ya all alone here, bruv? Let's go home, I need that mouth of yers on my prick," Kai said, standing next to you.
Kai... He was... Next to you.
That's impossible! He was in England and you... You... Where were you supposed to be? You knew you weren't British! That you weren't truly a chav! There had to be a way of...
His hand caressed your cheek. Your knees weakened, your eyes lost on the vulgar charm of his features. How handsome was he! How wonderful was he! Why would you be upset about him being close?
You were the best of mates. He was the love of your life. Shouldn't you be happy he's here with you? That he's generous enough to love you back?
"Kai..." you said, a stupid smile blooming on your face while a smirk appeared on his.
"Yes, it is me, ya dunce! Now let's go home, luv. I need yer pretty lips on my prick, not sucking a fag."
A part of you still thought about the other meaning of that last word. But as he guided you upstairs, you couldn't remember what it was supposed to be. No bother! It wasn't ike you were a smart guy, anyways. Kai probably knew. He always knew better than you did.
The apartment wasn't a surprise. Almost spartan due to how bare it looked. No decorations, minimal furniture. The only visible luxuries were a big TV, with a PS5 you and Kai were still paying with your job as binmen, as well as an old laptop with a just finished zoom call. Yet there wasn't a sofa, just two plastic chairs. There was some rubbish around, mostly boxes from takeout and used beer cans.
The bedroom wasn't any better. It was so messy. It smelled so bad... Yet how familiar and, thusly, comforting that felt! Dirty clothes everywhere, more beer cans, old gay porn magazines scattered on the floor. And the bed? Didn't have a frame. The sheets weren't properly in place.
They smelled like cum and sweat. And smoke. The best smells in the world, if anyone were to ask you!
"We're pigs," you said. It wasn't a complaint, nor a celebration. A simple statement of the facts. A declaration that felt almost too important for how simple it had been.
Kai looked at you with amusement.
"If it bothers ya, luv, ya can always act like a maid and tidy up. I'm chuffed with how things are, bruv. This is how men live proper. I won't move a finger to change a thing."
"It'd be bollocks, luv," you agreed, nodding with a dopey grin.
"So it is," Kai said, holding your face. "Now get in yer knees, and show me what that pretty mouth of yers can do."
And you did. You so did.
---
A week later, when you arrived home, you couldn't help but be remknded this hadn't always been your life. There had been a time when you weren't a dumb chav. You had been an intelligent American man, one who had dignity and a future.
That life was completely gone now. You had barely remembered it had happened this whole week. Since blowing Kai's cock that first night, you had not thought about who you used to be once. Not until now.
You should be frightened. You should be furious. You were about to be somebody, but now...
Now you're Kai's bruv. You're Kai's obedient pet. Always ready to please him, always ready to suck his huge dick (so much bigger than your own, which you loved), always ready to shag no matter the circumstance. Your ass was made to be claimed. So Kai said, and if he did, it had to be true.
Whoever you were before, it didn't exist anymore. You're now just Jayden. You always were and you always will be. Jayden, a dumb chav, destined to a life of poverty and ignorance. And a worshipful lover of Kai.
This was your biggest dream, back then. And now, it was also your truth. Until the day you died, and perhaps even beyond that.
But for now, you had to rest. The work day had been long, and you knew Kai would return. Horny and ready to use you as he liked.
You had wished for this, and you were too dumb to regret it.
The end of summer was always bittersweet for Jason, who had spent the summer between his semesters lifeguarding at his hometown’s pool. It would only be a week before he returned to the busy life of a college student, and the pool closing for the season often signified that transition. Although bittersweet, Jason just appreciated that he was able to keep his job. When the pool changed owners, he was worried that the new owner might not rehire him for the season. But Mr. Galvin seemed happy to hire him for the summer. And when Jason saw how much he was being offered, he was more than happy to sign his contract. The young lifeguard sighed as he finished locking up the main gates and headed towards his boss’s office to return the keys.
“Alright Mr. Galvin, it’s been real.” Jason said, handing the keys to his boss, a middle-aged man with graying hair and piercing blue eyes. Jason always felt uneasy around the man, but he was just happy to have a job, “Thanks for the lifeguarding gig this summer. I appreciate it.”
Mr. Galvin nodded, “Well of course, and Jason you did such an excellent job. I’m excited to see how you do in the fall.” He looked over at the clock on the wall and smiled.
Jason raised an eyebrow. That was a pretty weird thing to say if he was being honest, “With school?” Jason asked.
Mr. Galvin chuckled, “No with your new job. The new season starts in just a minute.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m not starting a new...” Jason froze as he felt a sudden tingle run through his entire body, which was quickly followed by an intense heat. He groaned in discomfort and fell to his knees, gripping his abdomen.
“Oh Jason, did you not read the contract?” Mr. Galvin said, standing up from his desk. He watched as Jason rolled over, groaning as his muscles contracted, “Summer is over and I don’t really need a lifeguard anymore. But I do need someone to tend to the orchard for the fall season.”
Jason grabbed at his shirt and ripped it off, basking in the cool room air as his body overheated. He groaned as he felt a bubbling in his stomach and grabbed his abs. It felt like his entire body was convulsing- each muscle tightening and contracting. And then, he let out the loudest belch that he ever had. If his frat bros heard, they would’ve high-fived him, but in this situation, Jason was too confused to celebrate.
“Wh-what the hell is happening to me?” He groaned, another loud belch filling the room. It felt like his body was starting to fill with air.
Mr. Galvin didn’t reply, only watching as Jason’s muscle started to grow. His pecs, biceps, triceps, and back all seemed to fill with muscle. And it didn’t stop. As Jason continued to belch, his musculature grew and expanded. The young man was horrified as he felt his body grow against his will. His lean swimmer’s build was slowly becoming that of a body builder's.
“You’re turning out so well so far.” Mr. Galvin remarked, watching closely as Jason’s muscular physique began to fill with fat.
His abs became covered in a thick layer of firm fat, while his pecs jiggled with the extra fat. Jason would disagree though and as he gripped his thicker abdomen, he felt tears well up in his eyes. He was proud of his swimmer’s build. This physique- while certainly bigger- was not built for swimming. His body seemed more built for hard labor.
“What *burp* is this?” Jason let out another burp as his stomach continued to expand.
“I guess you didn’t read that contract all too closely.” Mr. Galvin remarked, “But I need some help on the orchard. And now that summer is over and I no longer need a lifeguard, I’m hopeful that we can get you to fit your new role as a farmhand.”
“A farmhand?” Jason’s eyes widened as he watched some of his golden locks fall from his head, “But... college?”
Mr. Galvin shook his head and walked up to Jason, “No more college Jason. Just working on the orchard. Just a smelly, stupid farmhand that follows directions.”
Jason wanted to protest, but a voice from inside his head prevented him from doing so, “Jus’ a stoopid smelly worker boy.” The voice said, chuckling. It was a beckoning voice, slow and dumb, but welling up from deep within his mind. And Jason was confused. Where did that voice even come from? He was a college student- successful in his classes. He had aspirations. So where did this dumb internal voice come from? But before he could think it through even more, an intense itchiness erupted throughout his body. Hair sprouted from his clean shaven chest and face, rapidly growing and spiraling down his abdomen. His arms were no exception and Jason felt his heart sink as he gazed at his new hairy body.
“God darnit!” Jason shouted, his eyes widening at the sound of his voice. It was deeper, slower- resembling that of the voice in his head, “Naw way! This ain’t happenin’!” He let out another belch and then another.
With each belch, Jason felt like he was losing something. His thoughts seemed to slow down and the situation was becoming too complex for his brain to handle. It just didn’t make any sense. Was he ever a lifeguard or a college student? How do you go from one of those things to a farmhand? What exactly was real? Jason’s brain was starting to hurt more as he tried to think through this problem. But as he looked at himself and felt his new body, he struggled to rationalize that he had been anything else prior to this.
“Like I ‘member bein’ ah smart guy.” Jason remarked, “An’ college an’ stuff. But that ain’t whut ahm now.” He belched again and let out a dim chuckle, “Ah do like farmin’ though!” He said confidently as memories and knowledge on how to take care of the orchard filled his mind. All remnants of Jason’s prior life were squeezed into the far recesses as new knowledge invaded his mind.
Mr. Galvin nodded, satisfied with his new worker. Jason might not be the smartest tool in the box, but he was a good worker- always making the extra effort... one of the only things that Mr. Galvin felt was appropriate to leave behind. And with the start of the fall season and getting the orchard ready, Mr. Galvin was satisfied with the end result. Jason for his part remained a strong worker, enjoying his time out in the orchard. On occasion he would remember his life prior to being a simple farmhand, but he could barely make much sense of it. And what he did remember scared him. And so as the fall season came to a close, he was more than happy to renew his contract.
Im seeing more and more "red pilled" tf blogs popping up or "red pilled" muscle worship blogs popping up.
Ive reported and blocked 3 today, I want to make something some clear here, maga / right wingers fuck off. Do not follow me do not engage with me or dm me.
Sexualising masculinity is one thing, its fine, its healthy, sexualising actual nazis and nazi linked behaviour is another,
> oh but its just a fetish
> oh but its just role play
> i just think the aesthetics are hot
> i just have a slave / humiliation kink
> Im gay but im not part of the lgbt community
Let me be clear, these are people who actively want queer people DEAD, this includes you maga dick chasing fags. These men that you idealise literally joke about torturing people like you behind closed doors, fuck not even behind closed doors. If you think that being masc, a gym bro and a more traditional man is gonna shield you from their judgement it wont, if they gained power tomorrow theyd bring back the gay panic law and would shoot you dead without a thought.
Queer people (not just gay men ALL QUEER PEOPLE) have had to fight for their rights, they have literally died at the hands of men like theses so you can be open about who you are. I dont know if its that a lot of younger gay men in america have gotten the luxary of the world set up for them by queer elders that makes them act like this, but as a guy who comes from a country where gay marriage wasnt legal when i was a teenager and queer people had a lot of issues when living together and I marched for my rights, I was part of the campaigns...
YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING EMBARRASSED TO SAY YOU FIND ANYTHING MAGA IS HOT.
Maga gays think only white men should have rights (<- actual words of a reported post)
Well ill one up em and say I think nazi cunts should be fucking scared to go outside!!
Shane smirked as he walked around the dingy little corner shop, it had become his daily ritual to go in and pocket whatever he fancied before heading to his mates house. The fat indian clerk, Vikram would just stare at him never even attempting to stop him. Shane thought Vikram was pathetic, old, smelly, obese and barely able to stand behind the counter without sweating, it was why Shane has chosen this place to steal from so regularly. Shane looked down and had a sudden craving for chocolate he grabbed a large expensive bar and started sliding it into his bag even as Vikram waddled behind.
"Stop that or I call police!" Vikram said in broken English
"Fuck off you fat, old cunt" Shane spat back
Usually Vikram would just sigh and awkwardly manoeuvre himself back behind the counter, his huge belly barely fitting in the slender gap as Shane cockily sauntered off with whatever he had taken, but today something changed.
Vikram smiled and then pointed at Shane's back and said "You pay back what you stolen."
Shane suddenly started feeling strange as a tingling sensation started at his finger tips.
As the tingling spread across his body Shane started to feel his muscles tense, his body became harder to move. Shane tried to take a step but his feet refused to move, Shane tried to speak but his voice died in his throat. Shane tried to turn his head but soon it was frozen looking forward, while his arms dropped to his sides, heavy and useless.
Vikram then let out a chuckle and started to remove his clothes, carefully taking off his shoes and socks. Shane shivered with fear as his frozen body was stuck looking forward, not knowing what was happening behind him made him even more terrified and the sudden waft of nasty cheesy foot odour entered his nose. Vikram then removed his XXXL trousers and his work shirt the huge wet pit stains making a squelching sound as the shirt was folded up.
Shane was scared and confused as he then felt Vikram's hand on his back and then felt tingling feeling return. Shane suddenly felt tired, like his energy was being sapped away as if his youthful stores of energy were being stolen.
Vikram just smiled as he absrobed the wave of energy and his face began to ripple and change, hair grew rapidly from his balding head, his wrinkles disappeared, his eyes changed colour, fat melted from his face and his jaw became more defined. Shane was left whining as his energy and his youth were snatched away from him as Vikram's face continued to change until it was almost an exact copy of Shane's.
Shane could only groan as the tiredness he felt seemed to grow rapidly and now his entire body felt heavy and slow.
Vikram smiled in delight as he continued to siphon the youth and energy and body of Shane as his enormous belly became to sink and deflate. His arms and legs thinned out and started to show some defined muscles, his once chubby little man tits bulged into the beginnings of pectorals, while his fat ass became perky and round.
No longer was his body fat and wobbly, but toned, fit and young. No longer was it the aging body of a 50 year old but now had the vigour of 19 year lad ready to run, party and do whatever the fuck he wanted. Vikram was giddy with glee and it didn't stop there.
Vikram felt his body grow not just with more muscle but also in height soon he was no longer looking up at the back of Shane but now in line with it. His skin changed from light brown to pale, pasty white. His constant sweating stopped and the nasty odour around him faded away. Vikram couldn't help but smile as he now looked exactly like the young cocky chav lad he had trapped.
Vikram removed his hand leaving Shane with little to no energy, he was unsure how he was still able to stand. Shane would have screamed if his body would have allowed it as he saw the newly transformed Vikram stand in front of him. Shane looked terrified as his clone stood in front of him and ran his fingers over his muscles, Vikram then pulled down his old stained briefs and let his new thick floppy chav cock sway in the breeze before then staring at Shane was mischief in his eyes.
Vikram then grabbed at Shane's hoodie and said "You won't be needing these any longer, soon they won't even fit."
Shane wanted to shout and cry as Vikram started to undress him, removing his tracksuit and his own boxer briefs and then dressing himself in them. Vikram looked at Shane's chain and watch "Eurgh cheap, knock off crap. You can keep those." Vikram stepped into what once was Shane's underwear, joggers and hoodie, leaving Shane naked and afraid. Vikram now looked exactly like Shane in every aspect, no one would have been able to tell them apart. Vikram then smiled as he picked up his old briefs, the ones wet from hours of being crammed between his obese hairy arse cheeks and stained with a thick brown dirty smudge along the back. He then happily pulled them up onto Shane, leaving the chav wincing and disgusted as he smelt the scent of dirty used underwear.
Shane then felt Vikram's hand on his shoulder again and the tingling returned and this time it didn't feel like his energy was being sucked away, no instead it felt like he was being given something, something that made his stomach gurgle.
Shane felt it instantly as his once skinny frame started to balloon with fat, his flat stomach bulged outwards and jiggled, his little pecs sagged and chubbed up while his nipples became wider and erect. Hair started to sprout on his chest and nipples, sweat started to pour down his body and a faint stench started to linger around him. Shane could feel the hair on his head thinning and the colour of his skin start to darken, while English words in his head became harder to think of and new unfamiliar words in a foregin tongue replaced them.
Shane whimpered as his felt his body rapidly gain weight all over as his face and body began to look much older. His once small pale butt bloated outwards until it was two giant fatty hairy lumps of smelly ass fat. Shane wanted to cry as the world around him start to look bigger as he rapidly shrunk from his dominating 6'2 to a dumpy 5'4. Shane's hair was now darker, thinner and balding while his face rippled and morphed, losing his defined features and becoming fat and foreign to him. Shane felt his bones and muscles ache as his youth was stripped away from him and he was given the body of an obese 50 year old man with limited English and terrible sweating and foot odour.
Shane then felt the energy exchange end and the full weight of his new body and mind weighed him down, his back hurt, his asshole itched, his feet stank, his pits swampy and his face wet with sweat. Thinking English words was now a fight and instead he thought in Hindi, reading was harder and even thinking about his old life, friends and family seemed like he was trying to remember an old dream. Shane felt his emotions rush over him and he felt himself starting to cry, his life had been taken from him and instead he had been given one that he had mocked.
Vikram stepped in front of Shane and spoke in his voice, he took the chocolate bar out of the pocket of the bag and handed it to the sobbing hairy chub.
"Ere you are mate, enjoy that. I hope it was worth your body, youth and future. Have fun Vikram, you won't be seeing me again you fat fuck!" Vikram laughed as he then put his middle finger up before almost skipping out of the dingy shop.
Shane couldn't even respond in time as his legs wobbled under his new weight and the weight of his new life, body and future as he collapsed to the floor, the chocolate bar already starting to melt in his chubby hands.
Shane wanted to to get up and run after his body, but now even getting off the floor was a challenge, his huge over hanging gut, his wide fat arse and old weaker bones and muscles made it hard which only made Shane weep more. Shane then head the door in front of him open again and for a split second he hoped he would see his body again, that it was all some kind of trick and he was wasn't stuck as some 280 pound blob of aging hairy flesh. However, that was not the case as in stomped a god of a man, 6'6 and bulging with muscles, his aura commanding and face handsome and young. Shane found his brain telling him that it was Ravi the shop owner's son and technically his boss. Ravi then started shouting at him in Hindi and Shane winced as he found himself understanding each word.
उठो, मोटे, बदबूदार, आलसी! मेरे चाचा ने कहा कि यह तुम्हारी आखिरी चेतावनी है, क्या तुम भारत वापस जाना चाहते हो, बूढ़े मूर्ख! (Get up you fat smelly slob! My Uncle said you were on your last warning, do you want to be sent back to India you old fool!)
Shane panicked he couldn't be sent to another country he needed to get his body back, he needed to stay here! His unfamiliar voice then rolled out of his mouth as he begged रवि, ऐसा मत करो! मैं वादा करता हूँ कि मैं और ज़्यादा मेहनत करूँगा। मैं वादा करता हूँ कि तुम जो कहोगे मैं वही करूँगा, बस मुझे वापस मत भेजो! (Please Ravi not that! I promise to work harder. I promise to do whatever you say, just don't send me back!)
Ravi sneered down at Shane before shouting in his face "तो फिर कपड़े पहनो, निकम्मे! अब से जब भी मैं कहूँ, तुम मेरी सारी शिफ्टें संभालोगे और मुझे ही पैसे मिलेंगे, वरना मैं अपने चाचा को बता दूँगा और तुम सीधे मुंबई वापस चले जाओगे! तुम्हें यहाँ मरते दम तक काम करना होगा।" (Then get fucking dressed, you loser! From now on you take all my shifts whenever I say and I still get the paycheck or else I'll tell my Uncle and you'll be on a one way flight back to Mumbai! You'll be working here until you die.)
Shane then grabbed Vikram's old uniform from the side, reeking of sweat and ran to the bathroom to change. Shane just sobbed as he looked back at the new him, his new old fat body, the stench of the uniform cliging to his nose. This was his new life now, all because he took a chocolate bar. The obese, smelly man then got back to work, quietly sobbing, stacking shelves and working in a shop where he would be spending the rest of his miserable life.
A Quick fix -Muscle Theft and Weight gain ai sequence
I have been having lots of fun with Ai and have been creating lots of transformations but don't have time to write so I thought I would share one that I made, with a very quick caption. These were inspired by a very old story I read, that has always stuck with me.
Clive had been going to the gym for months now and had seen barely any results. Instead he only found himself getting sweaty and getting sniggered at by other patrons around him. That's when he decided to hire Payton, he had the body of a god. Defined abs, big biceps, cute round bubble butt and thick muscular legs, he was the whole package and he knew it. Often he would strut around shirtless and the women would swoon and the men would stare enviously. He had worked for a best part of a decade to achieve his body, but Clive didn't plan on working for that long. Payton barely even looked up at his phone as Clive approached him in the locker room.
"Errr Payton. I wanted to get a body like yours. I would be willing to pay?"
Payton didn't even look up "300 dollars for -"
Clive didn't even let him finish before exclaiming "Deal!"
Immediately Payton felt strange and Clive couldn't help but smile. Payton looked at his hands as they tingled and soon the rest of his body did as well.
Payton then felt strange as his hands looked swollen, no chubby and as he looked past them to his feet they too seemed pudgy. But that had to be impossible his diet was restricted and only the best foods went into his body, he hadn't eaten pizza since he was a kid but suddenly his stomach gurgled and he craved it more than anything. That and burgers, fries, doughnuts, cake, things deep fried and smothered in grease, his stomach craved it and let out a deep rumble.
Payton then looked down in shocked at his rumbling mid section to his his abs were disappearing as definition, and years and years of hard work seemed be lost in seconds as the beginnings of a belly started to form. His hard earned muscles were dissolving in front of his very eyes, his pecs were droopy, his legs thinner, his shorts tighter, his ass wider and his biceps looked deflated.
"What the fuck is happening to me??" Payton yelled as he turned around to see Clive beaming and with a much smaller belly.
Payton was confused as he looked at the smiling man who remained silently happy but soon he understood why as he watched Clive's arms thin out and his biceps bulge with muscle while his own became flabby and weak.
"Make it stop!" Payton screamed as he watched fat erupt from his belly, a decades worth of work lost in seconds and buried under layer upon layer of thick fat.
Payton felt like crying as he watched his pectorals swell in fullness as soft fat was squeezed into them while the muscle faded away, until all that was left were two chubby man tits sitting on top of a growing belly. A belly that was expanding further and further outwards blocking Payton's view of his feet and his crotch. It was be years until Payton would be able to see his cock without have his use a mirror to see it over his fat gut!
Payton whined as he felt weaker and Clive grew stronger, Payton grabbed at his ass as it ballooned with fat becoming a shapeless wobbling mass only good for sitting on. While his arms and legs lost all definition and became doughy limbs with new folds and crevices. While Clive gained more definition his moobs had been sculpted into pectorals, his abs were now showing through his belly, his legs were toned and strong and his ass was now nice and perky.
Payton was on the verge of tears, his tireless effort, the thousands and thousands of hours slaving away, denying himself pleasures just to build his body was being lost within moments!
"Please! I'll do anything please!!" Payton begged but still fat expanded his form and Clive smiled as he grew more muscular.
Payton started sobbing as his gut started to sag and his folds appeared down his back, his weight reaching nearly 340 pounds he was walking mass of quivering blubber. His whole body started to sweat making his new fat body glisten and was then followed by the rancid stench of B.O. Payton then felt his face jiggle as his handsome jaw and features finally succumbed to the tsunami of fat that has filled him from head to toe. A double chin now dominated his face and his cheeks wobbled with every sob. He body was ruined, his career was ruined and his years of dedication to the gym and his body were ruined all within a mere moment.
Clive stood happily as he stared at the sobbing clump of fat that was now Payton. Then he flexed his new muscles and enjoyed looking at his new body, his cock getting hard at the sight of meaty pectorals and washboard abs. Clive then turned to his bag and pulled out his wallet while Payton slumped to the floor in a sweaty smelly blob. Clive then pulled out a wad of bills.
"300 was it?" Clive smiled and then threw the money some of which stuck to dripping wet smelly back and ass of Payton, who tried to get up and run after Clive who left in triumph. Sadly, Payton quickly lost his balance and landed with a hard slap onto his now enormous rotund belly, leaving the reeking 380 pound man crying and wallowing on the dirty locker room floor.
I just want to be bigger and older, a body my boyfriend can REALLY climb all over and submit to.
You're quite fortunate I'm not a genie, my friend. It could have been so easy to take your words to the most logical of extremes... Twist them into something that clearly wasn't what you intended, despite following your petition to the letter.
But there's no need to cruel after you made such an earnest wish. After all, who wouldn't love to be a huge man who's respected and adored?
Especially when it's so easy to give it to you...
---
You just had gotten home. Tired, yet happy you would get some time to rest... Alongside your boyfriend.
He was a great man. In all aspects. A wonderful personality and sense humor. Great talent for anything related to sex. And he clearly adored you. Still, he was huge: towering, muscular and hung. Some may say he was the perfect man. You the first among them. In regular circumstances, you wouldn't change a thing about him.
Conversely, you were rather average or even tiny next to him. Not that tall, rather slim. And your cock wasn't that much to boast about. Not that your boyfriend had ever made you feel any lesser because of it. No, he pampered you, and loved to submit to your will at every chance he got. It was almost funny, all things considered. He was such a big intimidating man, but loved to adore you, down on his knees, obeying your every m word.
Was this fate playing a bad joke? Clearly you made a great couple, but in a way you had ended with the wrong bodies. Your boyfriend would have been happier on your smaller physique, while you didn't want anything more than be bigger than him. If only there had been a way to rectify that...
That's why it was impossible to help your excitement when you saw it: a package in front of your door. A package made especially for you. It was a pink box, with white letters saying: HEXCHANGE.
You knew exactly what they were. Being a regular on the world of transformations, you had heard of Mr. Hexum, as well as his company Hexum Industries. You had asked for his help, and this was his answer.
Getting inside, you still had some time alone. Your boyfriend got home exactly half an hour after you did.
You opened the box, and saw two pills inside: a pink one, and a white one. They were small, like half the size of an aspirin. It was almost hard to believe these could do anything.
Next to the pills you found the instructions. They were rather simple: whoever took the pink pill would be the receiver, and whoever took the white pill would be the donor. Once both individuals had consumed the pills, the receiver just needed to wish for whatever trait the donor had.
The instructions gave a simple example: John had a girlfriend, Jane, who was taller than him. So, after taking the pills, he simply wished to take some inches of height for himself. Afterwards, he had reversed the height difference. It even came with small cartoon comic, something reminiscent of the 1950s advertisements, to illustrate the change and how it all worked.
The other side of the instructions came with the warnings: It was important to consume the pills with water, to ensure the body was able to absorb the magic properly. Also, the pills effect would only work for about three hours, after which no exchanges could be made. Finally, all swaps were reversible during the three hours the pill were in effect. Afterwards, another order of Hexchange pills would be necessary to reverse anything.
A final warning had to do with someone consuming both pills, but you ignored it. You already had a target, so why risk it? This wasn't an opportunity that you could afford to waste.
After all, this was an experimental product. With high demand and low stock. So it may be difficult to get a second package after already getting the first. It may easily be impossible, especially if the product proves unpopular.
As things stood, you couldn't waste this chance.
You explained everything to your boyfriend once he got home. Clearly, he didn't believe a thing. Probably assumed you were proposing to role-play, and you had already began doing so before him agreeing joining.
It didn't matter, however. As long as he did what he had to do, and swallow the correct pill, then it didn't matter if he didn't believe you. His belief, or lack thereof, wouldn't change the effects of the Hexchange pills had for the both of you.
"Very well, Leo," he said, that lovely fool, with a knowing smile. "I'll let you take anything you want from me, by taking this white pill. And suuurely it'll work. I want you to make sure to take everything you want!"
You didn't try to defend yourself. Why would you do so? Proving your boyfriend wrong was going to be quite easy. Once the pill was on his system, he would be helpless against your ambition.
This sole thought was enough to make you hard. To have such a tremendous control over him... More control than I've ever had before...
You barely contained your enthusiasm as you saw your boyfriend swallow the pill. Playful, he even opened his mouth so you could corroborate he had actively consumed the white pill. Soon after that, you swallowed the pink one.
Seconds later, you felt it. Both of you did, in fact. Once the pills finally reached each stomach: it was like a warmth extended outwards from your belly, reaching even the farthest corners of your body. Comforting, invigorating. A warmth so wonderful it was made any hesitation you heart may still have disappear as if it had never existed.
Your boyfriend felt in a similar way. A sleepy smile as he looked at you. Wouldn't it be nice to go for a nap? It was all so cozy...
But no. The three hour time frame was already too short. You couldn't afford to lose any amount of time without the certainty of having enough time. It was now or never. A chance like this didn't present itself everyday.
There was nothing more foolish that squandering it. And you were no fool.
"I wish that I grow, taking one inch from you until you were... 5'3". Yes, 5'3"..." you said, looking at your boyfriend with renewed interest. Feeling almost impatient for the changes to finally occur.
The effect was immediate.
Your boyfriend, that had always been well over 6 feet tall, was quickly growing shorter in front of your eyes. Not only because he was losing height, but because you were gaining from his loss.
Soon, you looked eye to eye (a first). Seconds later he had your former height. Then he had lost a whole foot compared to his original size. Eventually, he was merely 5'3", and not a fraction of an inch above it. He looked so dense and swole! His already impressive muscles had not diminished at all. They were only compressed, giving your boyfriend such a stocky and stout figure, he barely looked real.
As for you? All the height he had lost had been transferred to you. Your boyfriend was now shorter than you had originally been, making you even more of a giant that he ever was.
Or could have ever been.
Unfortunately, you also looked almost gaunt. Stretched out. Your body had changed its structure to adapt to this new height, but you hadn't really gained any weight or muscle yet. What a slender figure you had now! Enough you wouldn't be surprise if the wind could take you away, were you not careful enough while standing outside.
Still, your hands and feet were huge. Enough that you had to take off your shoes as soon as the transfer began. Otherwise... Well, it was better to not think what would have happened. Comparing your bare feet to your shoe was enough to make yourself and idea... Ouch.
"Wait... How did... How is this... Leo! They were real? The pills were real?" your boyfriend asked, yelling, panicked. "How can this be? I..."
And could you blame him?
He had gone from a man who rarely needed to look up at anyone, to one who was undeniably short. The room alone should feel so much bigger. His clothes looked like bedsheets on him.
"Of course they are real, babe. Why would I have lied? Don't worry, though... I'll take care of you, little guy. Nothing will ever happen to you."
"Little... Guy?" your boyfriend asked, his eyes wide as he was forced to crane his neck to look at your face. "I'm not a..."
"Shhh..." you said, with a smirk. Your hand looked massive, despite how slim it was, as you used your finger to shut him up. "There's nothing for you to worry about."
He gulped. You were so close now. Making him truly aware of how bigger than him you had become. How cute he looked...
"I wish I had all your muscle tone..." you said, gazing into your boyfriend's eyes. "Until you become as skinny as I currently am."
"You what?" your boyfriend asked, shocked. "But... It's years of..."
Looking down at himself, the exaggerated muscles he now owned began to deflate. Panicked, he tried to grab his pecs. But soon the mass had dwindle enough no trace of them could be found. His chest was completely flat.
But not only that. His clothes, that had been kept somewhat in place thanks to his bulging muscles, were now simply too big for his physique. He was no longer the massive jock he had been but a few minutes ago.
If anything, he was a twink. Or perhaps an otter. For he still had his body hair and that lovely beard of his.
You almost felt bad about stealing years of work from him. He didn't seem to enjoy this kind of theft that much... At the beginning. Yet the way he was looking at you presently... Maybe it was starting to grow on him, as ironic as it was.
"Undress," you ordered. Not loudly. There was no need to speak loud.
Obeying came so naturally to him, he didn't even realize he was taking his clothes off until a moment after. Perhaps because he was too distracted looking at you. Eyes wide, mouth slack with awe and horny curiosity.
After all, not only were your clothes completely shredded. Both transfers simply had done a number so catastrophic, nothing could be saved from your current outfit. Not that you minded. Garments seem too little of a sacrifice to become this herculean of a man. With a body like this there's little point in wearing clothes at all.
Thusly, you also took your clothes off. There was no point for modesty while alone with your boyfriend. Even more so when your clothes were so utterly ruined.
At last, both of you were naked.
"You are huge... Leo... It's just... Wow"
"I'm sure you love it, don't you?" you said, flexing your arm for him. "I'm rectifying what nature got wrong. I'm finally making myself the man you deserve to submit to. The man you'd beg to worship."
Your boyfriend was nodding, probably unaware he was doing so. How easy was to agree with you now that you looked like this! Any hesitation he may have had was superseded by lust, and the wonder that came from your transformation.
Holding his face, you relished on how huge your hands were now. Not only were they long. They were thick. Meaty. One of them alone was almost as big as your boyfriend's whole face. How exhilarating! You've never felt so powerful. You've never felt manlier.
"Since you seemed excited now..." you said, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. "Tell me, baby, what else do you want me to take from you? I'll let you choose one single thing. Something that's completely your decision... Something you want me to steal from you..."
Kissing him, he was unable to respond immediately. His mind clearly obfuscated by the transformations that had already taken place. And by the sensation of being so small and you so massive.
After all, it hadn't even been half an hour since you began using the pills. How could be expected of your boyfriend to keep with this experience?
"My cock..." he said, out of breath, smiling at the prospect. Eyes on you, so loving and trusting. So devoted. "Steal my size... Please..."
"Are you sure?" you asked, raising his chin with your index, ensuring he looked at your eyes.
"Positive... I want you to... I want you to be my superior in every way... Please take my cock. You'll use it better than I ever could..."
You loved him too much to not oblige.
There was no need to say the wish out loud. Merely thinking it was enough. And you soon discovered this to be true.
Grabbing his cock, you marveled at it, caressing it just below the head. It truly was a thing of beauty. Long, fat and uncut. The kind of dick most men would kill to have. The kind of cock that felt only made sense on a porn film. And your boyfriend, willingly, without you forcing him in any way, was giving it to you.
How could you ever not love him?
Despite having a large hand, his erection was still bigger... It was even bigger than your extended hand, from palm to the tip of your fingers. At least at first. Eventually your hand was able to completely cover it.
Soon you just needed your palm.
Seconds later even that was too much.
It got to a point you couldn't even grab his cock. Only your index and thumb were able to hold it, barely. Even a smaller hand, such as your boyfriend's, would struggle holding such a small cock. It had compressed so much, you were almost confident it had gone beyond simply being small.
Yet, as arousing as his shrunken cock could be, what awaited between your legs surpassed it greatly.
It was huge. Easily ten inches, maybe more. It almost looked fake. But it suited you. Suited your new giant self. With such a big body, anything less would have been underwhelming. A godlike body like yours deserved a godlike cock like this one...
"Boy that's big!" your boyfriend exclaimed, so shocked he didn't find any restrain. "You're even bigger than I ever was... In every sense..."
Falling to his knees, he looked as if trapped on a trance. One so delightful it would be cruel to wake him up from it. As if he vad entered the sweetest of dreams, and was being offered the most delectable delicacy in the land.
He was almost too short, on his knees, to adore your new endowment. You've never imagined him being this small. Yet it felt so correct. As if his soul was finally showing on his flesh.
Isn't he the cutest thing? These pills are a godsend...
"You know what to do, babe. You already know what to do..."
He nodded at your words, eyes shining so beautifully. Your hand was already on his hair, guiding him to the stolen treasure he so ardently desired. As he did so, you decided to take something else from him.
And what did you wish for? His body hair... His beard, the hair from his chest, arms, legs, pits... From almost everywhere...
He didn't notice. As he forced his mouth as open as possible, the perfect beard on his face began to recede. Shrinking inwards, until his face was as smooth as a baby's. As if no hair had even grown there.
And perhaps it would never grow again.
Similarly, the hair on the rest of his body seemed to also be going away. Not even his pubes were safe. Leaving his tiny hard rod completely exposed. The lack of hair made it look slightly bigger, but it also made it look so infantile it balanced things out. His slender form was such a contrast from his original manly body, it should have been shocking. It shouldn't feel this... Right.
His tongue, such a devoted worshiper, was already on your cock. Distracting your mind from whatever you were thinking, as he played with the tip of your dick. As he enjoyed the taste of your leaking pre cum.
Soon, he was half way. The amount of cock, both inside and outside his mouth, could be compared to an average dick. It was incredible to see. Your cock was so huge it looked like two average dicks stacked on top of each other.
Thank God I got these pills! Best decision od my life!
Could your boyfriend even get it all? Perhaps you were too big for him... After all, his whole body is so much smaller... He may simply not have enough space inside of him.
"You can do it, baby. I know you can," you said, quietly. Warmly. Your voice however, displeased you some.
It could be deeper... Invested with authority. Made impossible to question...
So you wished for it. For some of the depth is his voice. Just until you had a proper baritone. Just enough so you sounded like a man you can't afford not to listen to.
And you could listen to the difference. The way your boyfriend's needy whimpers and moans were of a higher register now. Long gone was the masculine man he had once been. Small, slim, hairless, with a tiny dick and a high voice. He was the quintessential twink.
Almost.
Only one thing was left to make your wish a reality. Only one thing to take from him, and become the man you always wanted to be.
Just as your boyfriend had finally gotten the entirety of your cock inside his mouth, you wished for it. To take his age, until he was merely twenty years old. It was the only way: how else could you become the daddy you wanted... No, needed to be?
And so you aged. Some years older. Enough for it to be observable. A few wrinkles, more pronounced entries, the stray white hair here and there. However, the years were kind to you. Not because you looked young, but because you seemed charmingly mature instead of old.
The sexiest daddy the world have ever seen. That's who you were becoming. That's who you always wanted to be.
Your boyfriend, on the flipside, was younger. His skin softer, his hair fuller. The slender frame he had acquired so recently thinned even more. Giving him that lean look so unique to youth. Something graceful and delicate.
He was so tiny, so small. On every sense of the word.
And he was yours alone.
That was enough for you to reach your peak. You came inside his mouth with what felt a unstoppable force. Ropes of hot cum going down his slender throat, as you held his beautiful face. Firmly, yet with such gentleness...
"That was incredible!" your boyfriend's voice truly was higher now. Even more so due to his renewed youth. Your cock had slid out of his mouth with a pop, glimmering with his saliva. A trail of cum sliding down the side of his mouth. "I never knew being transformed could make sex so much hotter!"
You smiled.
"We're not done yet, boy. Let's go to bed. I'll show ya what daddy is capable of," you had helped him up as you said it, holding his tiny waist as you two walked to the bedroom.
You could never forget the sex you had that night...
---
The next morning, you woke up with him in your arms. He was the little spoon. Always had been. Now it was even easier. He was as light as a feather, and so small...
Sun beams were already covering you and your boyfriend, illuminating your shared bedroom. He looked so placid in your arms. Even more youthful and innocent than last night... It was such an incredible thing to withness...
Wait. That means... Oh.
You hadn't reversed the changes. Not that you ever wanted to. But wouldn't this cause issues? Would anyone recognize you at work? Or your boyfriend? At most both of you looked like relatives of your previous selves. Neither looked anything alike your previous original selves.
Trying to not wake him up, you stood up and went for your wallet. Only to learn reality seemed to have shifted too. Your driver's license said it all. Year of birth was different. Your height was different. Everything you had changed had also been modified on all your documents.
The same was true on your boyfriend's license. And the photos of you two on the walls and your phone? All changed. Your previous self had been completely erased, and now you truly were this sexy towering daddy.
You returned to bed, embracing your boyfriend back. His eyes opened, and he smiled, looking up at you. He squeezed himself against your body, seeking your warmth and the safety your huge body so naturally provided.
Said embrace didn't last, however. For your boyfriend went underneath the sheets, his mouth craving for your massive cock again.
Truly, you had created the perfect life for the two of you.
“Dude. Can you please stop doing that.” Ethan pleaded with his younger brother.
Harvey glanced over at Ethan. “Huh? Stop doin what bro?” He asked obliviously with one hand stuffed down the front of his sweatpants.
Ethan’s face went red with embarrassment. “Stop scratching your nuts like a dumbass!” He hissed in a whispered tone as he spun his head around to make sure nobody had seen or heard.
Harvey’s gaze dropped to his groin where he stared at his crotch for a moment while chuckling like an idiot. “Oh sorry brah. Just feels natural y’know? Didn’t even realise I was doin it.” He slowly retracted his hand
“No, I don't know. You can’t just stick your hand down your pants in public. It's not-HEY DON’T—!” Unfortunately Ethan wasn’t quick enough to stop his brother from lifting the same hand he’d just used to scratch his balls up towards his nose.
Harvey took one big sniff before recoiling slightly with a big stupid grin. “Fuuuck bro, that is ripe. I bet some guys would kill to sniff my balls right now.” He said while biting his lip at the thought.
Ethan sighed. “Please. Just shut the fuck us and get dressed.”
Ethan watched as his younger brother turned and grabbed a shirt from his locker and began pulling it over his head. He couldn’t believe that this was how Harvey had always seen him. As a complete idiot of a jock with no manners.
Until today, Harvey had always been a bit of a geeky nerd. He loved computer games and had quite the knack for coding to the point where he was even practicing to code his own games. He was so passionate about it in fact that he dedicated most of his time to his more geeky hobbies. As such he fell into the same stereotype as most nerds were he was a skinny twig of a man who spent most of his time in front of a screen.
Quite the contrast to his older brother Ethan who’d been working out casually for his consistently adult life. During the day he worked a simple retail job where he’d managed to move up the chain a little over the years but as soon as he clocked out, he was in the gym pumping iron. He definitely looked the part of a dumb jock but he wasn’t as stupid as some people might’ve assumed at a glance. He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. He’d hoped his younger brother of all people would understand that but this year's Opposite Day seemed to suggest otherwise.
It was 2025. Opposite Day had long since become a normal part of human society and many people like Ethan and Harvey had grown up learning about it, knowing that someday that magic would change them too. Naturally, being four years older, Ethan got to experience it first. It was the Opposite Day of 2021 where he’d gone from being strong and muscular to huge and fat for the day. With how strict he was on his diet, the idea of just letting himself indulge and eat like a fatass for a day with no strings attached had certainly appealed to him. He enjoyed all the chub for the short time he had it and even his girlfriend thought his big belly and butt were cute. As such he’d done it a couple more times over the years since then but never consecutively as he didn’t want to lose the hunky body he’d built. As a result he only fattened up every other year.
This year however, it’d finally been Harvey’s turn. He’d just turned 26 years old and was more than eager to experience his first transformation. He’d been disappointed last year when it didn’t happen so this time around he was more eager than ever. So much so that Ethan had asked him what kind of transformation he was willing for himself. Harvey had been a little sheepish about it but eventually admitted that he wanted to be more just like Ethan. Saying how he’d always admired his older brother’s drive and confidence and that in a lot of ways he wanted to be just like him. At the time Ethan had taken it as a compliment that, despite how annoyingly smart he was, his little brother still looked up to him in a way.
And so July 1st rolled around and just as Harvey had hoped, this was his year. When all the other men and women around the world started to transform, Harvey began changing right along with them. Ethan was in the room with him when it happened and given their conversation he wasn’t at all surprised by what he saw.
As Ethan focused on getting fat again for what would now be the third time since 2021, he kept an eye on Harvey’s transformation. Watching as his younger brother began to pump bigger and bigger with newfound muscle mass. Shoulders bulging and squaring as his back widened rapidly. Veins popping along his arms as his biceps and triceps ballooned alongside his forearms, causing the sleeves of his shirt to rip just as a huge tear ran down the back. Even the baggy pants he was wearing looked as though they were painted on by the time his chicken legs finished bloating into meaty pillars of muscle. By the time he they were both done transforming, Harvey looked like the spitting image of Ethan’s usual self.
“Holy fuuuuuck bro! Look at me! I’m juiced!” Harvey guffawed in a way that sounded exceptionally dumb for someone as smart as him. All the while flexing his new biceps without a care in the world.
Ethan was a little taken aback by his little brother’s sudden change in attitude. “Uhhh yeah dude. You look awesome.” He said with a half genuine smile before looking down at his own fattened up body and giving his huge stomach a shake. He’d already put on some extra large clothes beforehand for him to bloat into during the transformation, something Ethan hadn’t done likely for the pure thrill of getting to outgrow his regular clothes. “Hey man, you wanna borrow some of my clothes for the day? They should fit you now.” He offered
“Sure bro. That’d be awesome.” Harvey didn’t stop flexing even for a moment. First curling both his biceps again before squeezing his pecs shortly after, the likes of which he’d never had before. “Fuck… look at these puppies…” He’d mumbled to himself.
Ethan had tried not to pay too much attention to his younger brother’s overexcitment towards his new body for the day while going to fetch some clothes. While sifting through his wardrobe for something to give Harvey, Ethan couldn’t help but linger on the way Harvey had spoken. Never in his life had he heard Harvey use the word ‘bro’ or any other bro-ish terminology for that matter. Yet now it seemed to be slipping from his slips like it was natural. It had to have been whatever mental change Harvey had picked. It couldn’t have just been confidence right? That was what Harvey had told Ethan he wanted but this seemed like more than just confidence. There was an extra layer to it…
Ethan returned soon after, tossing Harvey some underwear, sweatpants and a tank top before turning away so his brother could get changed. Harvey soon began ripping off his old clothes and even though he wasn’t looking, Ethan could sense that his younger brother was taking a moment to admire his new hulking body in all its naked glory. Running his hands along every inch of his muscled up form before finally tugging on the borrowed underwear.
“I’m thinking of hitting up the gym in a bit. Wanna come with me brah?” Harvey asked as he sunk each leg inside the sweat pants before pulling them up to a surprisingly comfortable fit. “I know you turned yourself into a lard ass so you can spend the day being lazy, which is totally cool by the way, but it’d be sick if you came with. You don’t have to do anything. Just watch me lift and spot me or whatever.” He removed his glasses briefly to pull the tank top over his head before perching them back on his nose where they belonged.
“I guess so… we’ve got to go soon though. I’m meeting Ashley in a few hours.” Ethan agreed, though still weirded out by his brother's strange shift in tone.
Harvey whistled. “Oh right! Sorry bro. I forgot how much your girl likes it when you turn yourself into a fat ass. I’ll try not to hold you up.” He teased.
Ethan spun around and glared at his now stud of a younger brother. “Alright that’s it. What’s up with you?” He asked seriously but it didn’t stop Harvey from smirking like an idiot. “What kind of mental change did you wish for that’s making you act like an obnoxious idiot? I thought you just wanted to be more confident?”
“Bro. I didn't say I wanted to be confident. I said I wanted to be like you.” Harvey tossed his arms up into another strong bicep pose. “A hot stupid jock.” He grinned.
Ethan didn’t know what to say at first. He simply stood in disbelief as Harvey continued to flex and show off. Clearly enjoying his new body and persona way too much. But eventually he found the words to speak. “Is that… how you see me? As some dumb jock bro stereotype?” He couldn’t help feeling a little offended. He might not have been as intelligent as Harvey but he certainly wasn’t a dumbass like some other dudes he saw at the gym.
“Yuuuuup.” Harvey admitted without a second thought. “You’re my big dumb jock bro, bro. And now I’m juuuust like you.” It was becoming clearer by the second that he’d made himself dumb as bricks. Clearly the type of idiot that doesn’t think before speaking and just says whatever the fuck he wants. “Except I’m still into dudes cuz dudes are fuckin hot.”
Ethan didn’t even respond to that. How could he? What was there to say? He thought he and his brother had a good understanding of one another. Despite being so different, they always got on well. So to see Harvey turn himself into this idiotic exaggeration of the kind of guy he thought Ethan was… it was a bit hurtful. It really shone a light on what Harvey really thought of his older brother underneath it all, intentional or not.
Despite how awkward Ethan felt about the whole situation, he still ended up going to the gym with Harvey. During the drive, Harvey was overly enthusiastic to get a pump on. Still blurting out all kinds of dumb jock slang that sounded incredibly foreign coming out of his mouth. Even though his voice was the same, it was strange how even just the way he spoke sounded dumber. The way words rolled off Harvey’s tongue now seemed to carry an air of stupidity. And it didn't help that Harvey just would not shut up for the entire ride, going on and on about how hot and swole he was. How he’d have so many guys slobbering over his cock now. Not exactly the kind of stuff an older brother wants to hear. So much so that when they pulled into the gym parking lot, Ethan made Harvey promise to cut it out with sex talk.
That only lasted until about ten minutes into Harvey’s workout.
“God damn! Check out the cheeks on that dude bro…” Harvey had blurred out after a set of lateral raises. His gaze was firmly planted on another man across the gym wearing a tiny pair of tight shorts that did little to hide how thick his ass was. “Might as well be asking to get fucked wearing shorts like that.”
Ethan just barely held himself back from smacking his younger brother upside the head. “Jesus fucking Christ man. Shut the fuck up.” He growled in a hushed tone. “You’re gonna get us kicked out saying shit like that.”
Harvey shrugged. “What? He clearly wants someone to tap that.” He said plainly as the fog clouding his brain stopped him from realising just how inappropriate everything he was saying was. “I fuckin would… dude is caked up. Fuck I wonder if it’s hairy too.”
Ethan’s eyes bulged at that. This was already far more information than he ever needed to know about his younger brother’s preferences in men.
“Harvey.” Ethan said slowly.
“Yeah bro?” Harvey replied, looking at his brother with eyes that barely had a single thought behind them.
“Get the fuck on with your workout.”
The rest of the workout lasted another hour before Ethan was able to convince Harvey to call it a day. Ethan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief after having spent half the session collaring his dumbass brother for not having a filter. Not to mention the endless bro talk was already starting to drive him crazy. He felt like he was losing brain cells just listening to Harvey talk like a complete douchebag. At least he wouldn’t have to listen to it for much longer.
They’d headed into the locker room where Ethan had only just managed to stop Harvey from trying to flirt with beefy daddy on the way to their locker. Ethan told Harvey to hurry and get changed into the fresh clothes they’d brought so they could get out of here. Of course Ethan still loved his brother but right now he wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Mainly so he didn’t have to look at this twisted caricature that his younger brother viewed him as.
Little did he know the fun wasn’t over yet because that was when the nut scratching incident happened. Ethan had turned away initially while his brother was getting changed but had turned back around when he stopped hearing the rustling of clothes. He was appalled to see Harvey gazing off into the distance with a hand stuffed down his sweatpants, scratching his balls like an idiot while other dudes were still coming in and out of the locker room! Just when he thought Harvey couldn’t act anymore like a dumb ape of a man…
They exited the gym shortly after Ethan had to endure the disgust of watching his brother sniff his fingers after scratching. Harvey was walking with the dumb swagger of a dude that thinks he owns the world while Ethan was almost too embarrassed to look at him.
Ethan drove them back home to drop Harvey off so he could finally head over to his girlfriend’s place. He watched Harvey jump out of the car and saunter off back inside the house where he planned to do god knows what. During the car ride he’d been rambling on about getting his dick wet with some ass from Grindr but Ethan had tuned out by that point.
“Jesus…” Ethan mumbled to himself as he pulled out of the driveway again. He still couldn’t believe it. That after all these years and how close Ethan thought they were as brothers, Harvey only viewed him as this muscled up gym bro with dick for brains. A big part of him wanted to believe that Harvey had only said that as some kind of stupid joke and his mental change had just been to dumb himself down and nothing more. Either way, Harvey was gonna have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow when everything goes back to normal. Ethan just hoped this wouldn’t become a repetitive or, god forbid, a permanent change in a few years time.
Maybe life as a middle-aged mall guard isn't so bad.
-Oh shit, “He” is here again! And… all my friends?- I said in solitude while I had half of a delicious and greasy donut inside my mouth, I swallowed quickly letting the sugary crumbs fall on my dirty blue uniform and my big greasy belly.
I moved as fast as my new body allowed me, I got up from my huge chair dropping a bunch of crumbs, the back pain disappeared from my mind as I walked to the door of the surveillance room to lock the door, and then I returned to my comfortable chair to continue watching the show.
I changed each of the security cameras to focus on those perfect bodies, their steps were arrogant, and their shirts were soaked with sweat, at no time did they stop looking at the security cameras smiling, or flirting with me through the computer.
They all stopped in front of the dairy aisle and one by one, they started removing their shirts. revealing their perfect, muscular bodies. I couldn't resist for another second, and I searched between my fat crotch to find my small penis. With the tips of my fingers, I began to jerk off while my gaze focused on my old body.
-Damn Bob... you're doing so fucking good with my body- in just a couple of seconds my security guard uniform was soaked with sweat. Maybe the smell of the sweat from this body was the worst part, but right now I didn't care at all, all I could think about was the show I was receiving right now.
The pleasure didn't last long, I was now a premature ejaculator, my hands were covered in the hot smelly goo, -Fuuuuuck!- I screamed with my hoarse voice as the last drops came out of my little cock, I had to admit it, this body had the best orgasms, and I was an addict, I let my thoughts wander as I caught my breath, and I remembered how this all started, how it made me addicted to all this…
One second I was lifting weights at the gym and the next I was in a disgusting and smelly public bathroom holding a phone with one of my Instagram pictures in one hand and the other was submerged in a thick layer of white hair holding an unknown penis… I had so many questions, but I wanted to rub my cock with this calloused hairy hand even more…
I still don't know how Bob swapped our bodies, every day I woke up in Bob's smelly fat body was a new nightmare, especially with the real Bob sending me erotic pictures and forcing me to masturbate in his body, it's amazing that several months later I'm actually enjoying my new life... I get hot selfies of my old body and my friends, and occasionally Bob sends me a video of himself jerking off to the thick, veiny piece of meat I used to have between my legs.
Maybe life as a middle-aged mall guard is alrigh, actually like my new beard!
-------
Hey guys, sorry for the long wait for new stories. The truth is, my life took a sudden turn and… I didn't feel up to writing anymore, but things are stabilizing now. This is one of my old stories that I have in my archives, which will be updated again soon. I have a bunch of stories I want you to see and some ideas I want to write. See you soon.
🇮🇹 Valerio usava spesso Grindr durante i suoi viaggi; era un modo efficace per rimediare un posto gratis dove passare la notte. Anche quella volta era stato fortunato: lo avrebbe ospitato "MagoXL" (questo il suo username), un ragazzo un po' basso ma decisamente muscoloso e, agli occhi di Valerio, "comunque scopabile".
Appena entrato, MagoXL gli chiese di sfilarsi le scarpe all'ingresso e gli mostrò il divano su cui avrebbe dormito. Valerio notò subito quanto fosse piccolo e iniziò a prepararsi psicologicamente a una notte passata in posizione fetale. Il padrone di casa, leggendogli lo sconforto in faccia, sorrise: «Le dimensioni sono regolabili, non preoccuparti».
Poi si avvicinò e lo sfiorò.
In quell'istante, Valerio sentì un formicolio pervadere tutto il corpo: un flusso di energia che da ogni cellula del suo corpo si concentrò rapidamente nel petto, per poi essere risucchiato dalla mano di quell'uomo. Rimase immobile, paralizzato dall'incredulità. Gli ci vollero dieci secondi buoni per realizzare l'assurdo: stava rimpicciolendo. Ora era lui a dover alzare lo sguardo per incrociare quello dell’altro ragazzo.
L’accaduto era talmente irrazionale e veloce che Valerio non riusciva a capacitarsi della realtà. Abbassò lo sguardo e si fissò i piedi, così piccoli e carini nei loro calzini bianchi: ormai portava certamente una taglia di scarpe molto più piccola. Nulla a che vedere con quelli enormi dell'altro ragazzo, cresciuti insieme a tutto il resto del corpo che ora svettava imponente sulla versione pocket di Valerio.
Se dalla bocca aperta di Valerio non usciva un fiato, la sua faccia sgomenta rivelava tutto il suo turbamento; ancora più rivelatrice, però, fu la piccola erezione malcelata nei pantaloni morbidi della tuta. Il padrone di casa sorrise divertito e concluse: «Ripensandoci, forse nel letto con me staresti più comodo».
🇬🇧 Valerio often used Grindr while traveling; it was an effective way to score a free place to stay the night. He’d lucked out this time, too: he was staying with "MagoXL" (that was his username), a guy who was a bit on the shorter side but definitely muscular and, in Valerio’s eyes, "still fuckable."
As soon as he stepped inside, MagoXL asked him to take off his shoes at the entrance and showed him the sofa where he’d be sleeping. Valerio immediately noticed how tiny it was and started mentally preparing himself for a night spent in the fetal position. The host, reading the dismay on his face, smiled: "The size is adjustable, don't worry."
Then, he stepped closer and brushed against him.
In that instant, Valerio felt a tingling sensation pervade his entire body: a flow of energy that rushed from every cell into his chest, only to be sucked away by the man’s hand. He stood frozen, paralyzed by disbelief. It took him a good ten seconds to realize the absurdity of it: he was shrinking. Now, he was the one who had to look up to meet the other guy’s gaze.
The whole thing was so irrational and fast that Valerio couldn't wrap his head around it. He looked down at his feet, so small and cute in their white socks; he was certainly wearing a much smaller shoe size now. They were nothing like the huge feet of the other guy, which had grown along with the rest of his body; a body that now towered over the "pocket version" of Valerio.
While not a sound escaped Valerio’s open mouth, his stunned face revealed his utter turmoil; even more telling, however, was the small erection poorly hidden by his soft sweatpants. The host gave a dry, amused smile and concluded: "On second thought, maybe you'd be more comfortable in bed with me."
Dreams of A Simpler Life @bluecollarchub - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag