The heat was getting to Franco, as a construction worker he barely had any time to relax. Always on the next project, always on the move– his existence was exhausting. He had been in construction since he was old enough to get a job. 16 years old, but back then he just worked in reception. Now he was on the field and salaried, but that didn't mean he hated his life any less. He had not grown into a man that he hoped he would, despite being quite strong from the nearly 35 years of work he wasn't the most attractive. Facial features that didn't make the most sense, a soft non existent jaw, and teeth that were more than a few steps away from perfect. His body ached like hell constantly, tinnitus and back pain had been constants in his life for more than a decade.
He stumbled into the small mobile breakroom, the AC his savior from the sweltering heat that only seemed to get hotter each year. He gulped down as much water as he possibly could as a younger guy, Tristan, watched him. Tristan tried to not show judgement, but his eyes betrayed him. He was a new hire, and in Franco’s eyes he was… okay. Franco seemed to not get along with any of the new people, especially Tristan. Although deep down he knew it was out of jealousy. Tristan; the fresh kind handsome face.
Franco kept comparing himself to Tristan, making him feel worse each day that he saw him. One day in the breakroom Frank overheard Tristan arguing with someone on the phone, he was trying to keep it down but he couldn’t as the argument clearly escalated. It ended with Tristan in tears, leaving Frank to awkwardly console him. After watching the gorgeous man cry, tears falling so picturesquely down his chiseled face, Tristan said that his boyfriend had just broken up with him. Franco was stunned. Not only was he handsome, but he was gay. Since that day Franco kept his distance.
Franco was deeply closeted, he didn’t grow up in a generation of acceptance and he felt it deeper than he could ever know. The 80s were a different time, at least back then he had all of his hair. Franco didn’t fully accept that he was gay, sure when he watched porn he focused on the guy –but that was just because he was appreciating their bodies, not because he was a queer.
“What?” Franco spat out as he wiped away the water from his mouth.
“Nothing Franky, I’ve just never seen someone down water with such gusto.”
“Oh please, you’ve been to a college party before– I can’t be the only one you’ve ever seen chugging”
As they sat their bickering Tristan's eyes shifted, becoming focused on Franco's face.
“ya'know, frank.” His voice changed, a tad more purposeful..
“I can't believe I've never noticed how beautiful your eyes are.” Franco went red, a feat considering his face was permanently sunburnt.
“What the hell are you talking abou-”
*snap*
Tristan's snap echoed endlessly through Frank's mind, his mouth went slack– drool starting to pool.
“Shhh” Tristan put a finger up to Frank's lips, “Let me get a good look at you.”
Tristan's large hand lightly gripped Frank's jaw, just enough to move it around like he was appraising a piece of art. Frank's heart was beating a million miles a second– but he couldn't move at all.
“Good, now tell me Frank, how old are you?”
“Fifty six- I dont know why yo-”
“18, right.”
Frank leaned back in the chair as his face contorted, his hands shot up to his face as a pleasurable burning sensation took root. As it passed he dropped less wrinkled hands, revealing Franco at 18, although not the prettiest, prettier than he was a second ago. His hair sprouted out as he cracked his neck- like he had just woken up from a nap. His pain had completely disappeared, no more back pain, no more tinnitus, it was weird for his mind to be so clear.
“Go ahead and lift up that shirt for me pal.”
Franco complied as his soft hands exposed a bit of chub on his stomach.
“Perfect abs, you've had those for a while yeah?”
Franco nodded, he had always been athletic– more so than most of his peers. Although for some reason his abs always seemed more defined than his other muscles.
He looked down at his body, prideful, he flexed his arms, a bit lacking comparably to his abs– but they weren't half bad. He flexed them as a solid mound appeared.
“Ooo la la so big! you're already showing off for me?”
Franco nooded, drooling continuing to drip down his face.
Show off for Tristan
Please Tristan
Serve Tristan
His arms pulsed bigger as tristan's words willed them so, making his body more proportionate.
“And what are you, 6…” Tristan sized him up, trying to decide how tall he wanted him, “5? 6’5” does that sound right?”
Franco moaned slightly as his whole body stretched up while packing on muscle to maintain proportions. Tristan smiled, everything was going perfectly. But he noticed a bit of fear behind Franco's eyes. A part of his old self was trapped in there. Although he was being molded into something he could've only ever dreamt, he felt so out of control. Although he resented his own life, he didn't want to be a completely different person. He wanted to keep his old mind at least, and that seemed to be slipping away from. The most recent memories being him in highschool, fucking his way through the cheersquad only to realize that girls didnt do it for him. Trying the twink cheerleader and realizing that a whole new world had opened up to him as he started fucking ever guy he could.
“Oh don't worry your pretty little face, you're role will be simple okay? You are my dominant, obedient, boyfriend. Stop holding on.”
Franco's face shifted as it became more masculine, his cheekbones becoming higher as his face became completely symmetrical. His mind was still fighting it, but he was losing the battle- this is what he wanted after all.
You're mine
My sweet
Caring
Dominant
Dumb
Boyfriend
*Snap*
Like the aftermath of a bomb, Franco's head swirled around. Tristan wiped away the slobber from Frank's lips, his hand lingering on his cheek.
“My love, are you okay? Think you passed out from the heat.”
Franco straightened his powerful back as his eyes focused on Tristan, his beautiful boyfriend. A light smile coming across his face as he gently kissed Tristan on the lips.
“Did you save me?” Franco said, his voice now deep, resonating.
“In a way” Tristan smiled.
Franco suddenly felt a wave of something crash over him as his whole body shuddered. While looking at Tristan he realized how pent up he was, it felt like he hadn't cum in weeks, months, years.
“Fuck babe why do you look so hot right now”
Tristan snorted, “because I am, duh”
Franco closed the gap between the two as he leapt into a passionate kiss. Franco's long tongue exploring Tristan's like he was digging for gold. The two locked the door as they went at it, Franco ripping Tristan's clothes off like a rabid dog, his dick completely hard, throbbing with his heartbeat.
Franco fumbled with his own pants as his dick flopped out. About ten inches long.
“God damn Frank! I didn't even change your dick”
Franco was confused by the last part, but he was too horny to care. Franco lowered himself onto Tristan's sweat stained musky body, he licked his neck as Tristan's salty skin filled Frank's senses. Tristan gasped as the huge head of Franco's dick entered him, stretching him apart. Franco continuing to kiss Tristan's neck. Sending Tristan into absolute pure bliss.
Franco managed to mutter through kisses as he slowly and deliberately rammed Tristan's muscular ass, the pace slowly speeding up.
My uncle, roommate- wait. No- fuck I don't know anymore I'm so confused. There used to be this person that Jace used to be. I swear he used to be older, but I'm not too sure now. The day that changes began I thought I was going crazy- I woke up to him in the kitchen making breakfast. Instead of his usually short fat ugly self, he looked… normal. Something I hadn't been used to at all.
His hair was more filled in, neat, rather than the messy balding bird's nest it used to be. He talked calmly, his voice a bit lower than normal. That was just the beginning. Each day I woke up scared as he continued to morph into someone completely different, something completely different. I’m not so bad looking myself, 6’2”, muscular, definitely my fathers child. But after a few days he was taller than me.
I woke up to the sound of weights in the garage. The clanking noise followed by deep grunting. The day before the garage just held his old dusty car and a few cobwebs, but opening the door I found a complete home gym. A bit janky, but very good for a home gym. As he stood up my eyes trailed down his shirtless sweaty body. Jace looked completely different, he was my age now, about 20 years old. His shoulders broad and muscular, leading down to a narrow waist adorned with an eight pack of abs. A small dusting of hair leading downwards into his tight gym shorts.
“You gotta learn to stop staring bud” he huffed out, smiling.
That damn fucking smirk was dangerous. His chiseled face had gained dimples in the past day, making his perfect cocky smirk even more attractive. His wavy hair flopped down as he adjusted his package– the head of his huge dick straining against those lucky pair of shorts. Stretched to its limit, what I would give to be in its position.
“Not that I mind much” he continued, winking as he went back to working out.
Jace was a completely different person at this point, and my memories seem to be faltering. I more just remember how I felt about his changes, how conflicted I felt at the beginning. We started texting when we weren't together at home. When we were apart I wanted to be by him constantly, I felt so needy. Like I couldn't breathe without him. Now It's been about a month since he started changing, and he knows that he can get me to do anything he wants. Who could say no to that face?
