#wish gone wrong

[mindyourbod]

Daddy Kink

This is me.

I'd like to think I'm pretty good looking. I hit the gym regularly, I take care of myself, and I'm very lucky to be in a great relationship with a loving boyfriend.

It can be a little tricky in the bedroom since we both prefer to bottom, and his sex drive is a lot higher than mine, but other than that, life's good! Or so I thought.

Turns out, my boyfriend has a massive daddy kink.

I kinda suspected it a while given his dating history; I mean, I'm the youngest guy he's ever dated, and I'm 31. Well, *was* the youngest guy he's ever dated is a little more appropriate.

It also turns out that he's got some witchcraft in his bloodline. Nothing too crazy... except for specific times of the year, where the fabric of reality is thinnest. Which happened to fall on Valentine's Day.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up in a body 2 decades older than what I was used to.

I called him in a panic, and he guiltily confessed that it was all his fault. It was supposed to be a one day thing, and I shouldn't have remembered any of it. Except something had gone haywire - he managed to change reality to where I was now a silver fox, but he ran out of juice before he could set a time limit, or make my mind match this new body... and this new body's urges.

See, he didn't just conjure up a reality where I was a daddy. He conjured up a reality where I was a kinky, constantly horny, dom top of a daddy who can't stop thinking about putting his boy on all fours.

My boy's loving every moment of it. At first, I tried to get him to turn us back, but... shit, I've started loving it too.

[misctf]

Leave Well Enough Alone

"Oh so this is your friend? What did you say his name was?"

"Alex." Paul sighed, lowering his phone.

"Well, I can definitely see why you're attracted to him." Elliot smirked, "But hun, he's straight."

"Yeah, yeah I know." Paul replied, "But... ever since I came out, he's been incredibly supportive. Like he's still my best bro, you know?"

It had been only a few months since Paul came out. Sure, he always wrestled with his attraction for guys internally. But finding a supportive community and having a friend like Alex was what he needed to feel comfortable saying it out loud.

"So look, its a canon event that every gay is gonna wind up crushing on a straight dude." Elliot continued, "I certainly did. And probably every gay guy I know has too."

"I know, but..."

"Best to leave well enough alone." He continued, "Now c'mon, I wanted to check out that antique stand over there."

Paul nodded- he had been so caught up in thinking about Alex that he nearly forgot the whole reason he met up with Elliot that day. The street fair was a yearly tradition at their college, and while Alex wasn't interested in going, Elliot was more than happy to accompany Paul.

"Look at this!" Elliot smiled, looking over at Paul and holding up a small ancient looking lamp, "This is really cool, wouldn't match with my aesthetic though."

"Yeah, look at that." Paul took the lamp from Elliot, "I kinda like it."

"Let me get it for you. My treat!" Paul never really understood why Elliot was so nice to him, why his smile seemed wider when he was around, "Maybe help get your mind off Alex."

"Thanks man, you're the best."

________

Paul arrives back at his apartment, the old lamp tucked under his arm. He finds Alex lounging on the couch, watching TV.

"There you are!" Alex grins, sitting up straighter as Paul enters. "How was the fair with Elliot? Find anything interesting?"

Paul holds up the lamp with a small smile. "Actually, yeah. Elliot got this for me. It's an old antique lamp."

Alex raises an eyebrow, standing up to examine the lamp closer. "Whoa, that's pretty sweet! Looks ancient." He chuckles warmly.

As they talk, Paul's gaze lingers on Alex - the way his t-shirt stretches across broad shoulders, the kindness in his smile. Paul feels that now-familiar ache in his chest, the longing for something he knows he can't have.

Paul tries to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts keep drifting. He imagines running his fingers through Alex's messy hair, tracing the strong line of his jaw…

"I'm glad you like it," Paul says distractedly, "Elliot insisted on getting it for me."

Alex plops back onto the couch, patting the seat beside him invitingly. "Well, that was real nice of him. You two seem to be getting along great lately." There's a hint of something in Alex's tone, "And you two spend a lot of time together. Is he…"

"Yeah, Elliot's been a great friend." Paul sighs, absentmindedly fidgeting with the lamp in his hand and sitting next to Alex.

As Paul sits down next to Alex, he can smell his familiar scent - something uniquely Alex. It makes Paul's heart race. He clears his throat awkwardly.

"Anyway, um, I was just curious about this lamp. Imagine if it's actually magic or something." Paul rubs the lamp experimentally, half-jokingly wishing for a chance with Alex.

Suddenly, there's a low rumble and puff of smoke. An old, hunched figure emerges, barely visible in the dim light. The genie peers at Paul with cloudy eyes.

"Who dares disturb my retirement?" The genie croaks, voice raspy with age and disuse. "You've gotta be fucking…" He squints at the men in front of him, "State thy wish, mortal, before I return to my well-deserved retirement!" He cracks his neck, and grips his back, "Ah fuck… that lamp… my back…"

Paul gapes in shock, glancing at Alex who looks equally stunned.

Paul's heart pounds as he realizes the genie's presence could be his chance to win Alex's affections. His mouth goes dry with nerves, palms sweating as he grasps the lamp tightly.

"I wish…" Paul begins hesitantly, then steels himself, looking deep into Alex's handsome face, "…for Alex to become gay."

"Wait what?" Alex exclaims sharply, standing abruptly. His usual smile replaced by clear shock and hurt. "Paul, what the hell?! I… I have a girlfriend. I'm straight!"

The genie scrunches up his wrinkled face in confusion. "What did you say?" He scratches his gray beard. "My hearing ain't what it used to be, ya know."

"Paul, I thought we were friends. How could you even ask for something like that? Especially without my consent!" Alex continues, "I thought…"

Paul's stomach twists with guilt, seeing the pain and anger flash across Alex's face. He opens his mouth to apologize, to take it back, but no words come out. The genie continues, oblivious to the tension.

"Aight, I gotcha now. Make Alex would cum all day." The genie rubs his hands together, "I'll admit, kind of weird. But granted!"

Suddenly, Alex doubles over, letting out a strangled moan. "Aahh fuck!" He gasps, clutching his crotch. To Paul's horror, Alex's body starts shaking uncontrollably as he ejaculates repeatedly, soaking through his jeans.

"No no no, make it stop!" Alex cries out between ragged breaths and involuntary orgasms. Tears of frustration stream down his face as he collapses to his knees. "Please Paul, I can't… it won't stop!"

Paul lunges for the lamp, shouting desperately. "Genie, I change my wish! Undo that one!" But the genie just shrugs, looking unconcerned despite Alex's pained cries.

"No deal. Ya gotta make another wish first unrelated to the last. Once you do that, we can go back to undoing the previous? Understood? Get it?"

Paul bites his lip, "Fuck! Fine, okay…" He takes a deep breath, "I wish… Alex was attracted to men!" He wasn't going to make the same mistake… there was no way…

"You wish Alex was attractive to men! Got it!" The genies scratched at his ear, "And granted!"

Alex writhes on the floor, lost in a haze of unwanted pleasure. As he orgasms again and again, his muscles begin to swell and bulge, growing more defined by the second.

"Paul, please, something's happening!" Alex grits out between panting breaths, sweat pouring down his reddened face. "I… I can't stop thinking about the gym. About working out." He clutches his head, eyes wide with panic. "Everything else... I can't think about anything else… Gotta get swole... Fuck!" Tears stream down Alex's cheeks as he looks pleadingly at Paul. "This isn't me, Paul! I don't want this! You have to fix this, please!" His muscular form twitches and flexes uncontrollably as another orgasm crashes over him.

Paul paces frantically, running his hands through his hair as he watches Alex suffer. His heart races with fear and desperate regret. "Shit shit shit! Alex, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

Alex cries out as his body convulses again, muscles rippling beneath his straining skin. "P-Paul, please! I can't take much more of this!" He reaches a trembling hand towards his friend, eyes shining with unshed tears and rising hysteria. "I don't recognize myself anymore! The gym, these muscles, it's all I can think about! I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind!"

"I know, I know!" Paul falls to his knees beside Alex, grasping his thickly muscled shoulders. "Just hold on, okay? We'll figure this out together!"

"Huh? What did you say?! Ya gotta speak up!"

"Stop doing this!" Paul snaps, "This isn't fair!"

"What? Hair?"

Suddenly, coarse dark hairs begin sprouting rapidly across Alex's increasingly muscular body. They tickle and irritate his sensitive skin as they grow longer by the second. Even a thick, unkempt beard erupts along his jawline and upper lip.

"Aghhh, it itches so bad!" Alex wails, frantically trying to claw at the invading hairs. His arms bulk up even more with each passing moment. "Wh-what's happening to me?!" He gasps and moans loudly as yet another intense orgasm rocks through him, muscles tensing and releasing powerfully.

"Holy shit Alex, you're… " He swallows hard, trying to process the situation.

"It burns, it itches everywhere!" Alex howls, voice strained and cracking. Tears and sweat mingle on his furry, flushed face. "I can't control my body! It won't stop changing!" Another mind-blowing orgasm crashes through him and he arches his back with a guttural moan, abs clenching rock-hard. When he finally collapses back, he pants heavily, "P-Paul… I'm scared. Please, you have to find a way to reverse this! I don't want to be this."

"I'm trying Alex, I swear!" Paul clears his throat, "Genie please! Undo this?"

"Please what? Seriously, you gotta speak up!" The genie sighs, Undo? What are you saying?"

"Genie, please, I wish everything would go back to normal! Reverse all these crazy changes!" Paul pleads desperately, gripping the lamp.

The genie frowns, scratching his head. "Uh, ya wanna make this whole messed up situation the new norm? Yeah, I can dig it!" He nods sagely.

Alex's brow furrows as he struggles against the invasive changes reshaping his mind. "N-no, wait… I don't wanna be some meathead bro!" He protests weakly, voice already starting to lose its sharpness. "C'mon Paul, this ain't right, dude! Help me stay me!"

"I'm trying Alex, I swear!" Paul grips Alex's shoulders, staring intently into his glazing eyes. "Keep fighting it, okay? Don't let this happen!"

But Alex's vocabulary is shrinking by the second. "Yeah, no, I dunno 'bout that, bro." He scratches his head, looking confused. "Gym sounds rad tho! Maybe I'll go later, yeah?"

"No Alex, focus!" Paul shakes him gently. "You're slipping away!"

"Bro, what's with the intense interrogation?" Alex blinks slowly, expression dulling. "I'm just tryna chill, ya know? Nuthin' to get bent outta shape over." He shrugs his massive shoulders.

"No, listen Alex!" Paul insists, desperation coloring his voice. "You're forgetting who you are!"

Alex tilts his head, brows furrowed. "Huh? Forgettin' what?" He seems to struggle to grasp the concepts. "Naaah, you must be mistaken, my dude. I'm all about the gains and gaming now!" He flexes an arm, grinning stupidly. "Chicks dig the biceps too, y'know?"

"Alex, please, you have to snap out of this!" Paul pleads, tears forming in his eyes. "This isn't you talking! You love philosophy. You want to go to law school!"

"Philoso… fill-loss-oh…What….?" Alex repeats slowly, as if the words are foreign. Then he laughs, a crude barking sound. "Dude, who needs all that sissy stuff? Video games and protein shakes are life now!" He punches Paul's shoulder playfully, nearly knocking him over with his enhanced strength.

"Oof! Alex, stop!" Paul rubs his sore arm, feeling helpless as he watches his brilliant friend slip away. "I know you're still in there somewhere! Fight it!"

"Hey, whatchu cryin' for, bro?" Alex notices Paul's tears and looks genuinely concerned, in a simple-minded sort of way. "Real fuckin' men don't cry, brah." A smirk forms on his face, "Here, I have a good joke for ya."

PPFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

"Haha, oh man, didja smell that, bro?" Alex guffaws at the sound and smell of his own fart, "I'm so gassy from all the protein powder!" He takes a big whiff of his own stinky cloud, giggling childishly. Alex flexes his bulging muscles, admiring his reflection in a nearby mirror. Thick hair sprouts across his body as he grows even more hirsute and beefed up. Another orgasm hits and he grunts, "Whooo, that's the stuff!"

Paul's stomach churns at the sight and smell. Paul's heart sinks as he watches Alex descend further into this crass, unintelligent state. The words echo in his mind - "Leave well enough alone." Maybe Elliot was right. Paul just stares in disbelief, hardly recognizing his once intelligent, sophisticated friend in this new Neanderthal-like state. Everything Alex was... everything he could be... all gone, replaced by this crude caricature.

Paul's heart races as he grasps the lamp, desperation fueling his movements. "Genie, please, I need to make one more wish! I can't let this happen to Alex!"

The genie shakes his head sadly, "Sorry kiddo, ya done spent all yer wishin' credits. No more freebies for ya!" He points a bony finger at Paul accusingly, "Shoulda thought twice 'fore messin' with forces beyond yer comprehension, eh?"

Meanwhile, Alex groans and shifts uncomfortably, his enormous cock throbbing and leaking copiously. "Ugh, fuck dude… so much spunk. It won't quit drippin'!" He glances down at his straining erection, a look of dumb confusion on his face. Alex scratches his head, looking down at his cum-soaked shorts. "Aw man, I need somethin' to soak up all this jizz, ya know?" He glances at the genie hopefully. "Oi genie dude, hook a bro up with a sick jockstrap that can handle all this baby batter!"

The genie grins toothily. "One magic cum-guzzlin' jockstrap, comin' right up!"

Before Paul can react, an invisible force yanks him towards Alex's crotch. "Wha- Hey! Stop!" Paul yelps, but it's too late. His mouth is engulfed by Alex's huge, throbbing cock as his arms wrap around Alex's muscular waist. Paul gags and sputters, eyes wide with shock.

"Mmmph! Gllkk mmm!" Paul tries to protest but can only make muffled noises around the thick shaft stretching his lips. He feels a strange tingling sensation spreading through his body as the changes begin…

Alex moans, fingers tangling in Paul's hair. "Whoa dude, your mouth feels amazeballs! Guess you're a natural cocksucker after all!" He chuckles dumbly, flexing his hips to thrust shallowly.

Paul's thoughts race in panic as he feels his body beginning to morph and reshape itself. Oh god, no no no, this can't be happening! Not like this! He tries to pull away but finds his limbs moving independently, fusing and twisting in unnatural ways.

His legs stretch and shift, sliding up along Alex's muscular thighs and taint until they merge with his hands. Paul's torso compresses and flattens, the flesh and bone condensing into a thin strip of material. His face pushes outward, features smooshing and reforming into the cup-shaped front of a jockstrap.

"MMMPPHHH!! GLLKK MMFF!" Paul's screams are garbled and muted as his vocal cords dissolve away.

Paul's mind reels in horror as he feels the last vestiges of his humanity slipping away. His consciousness narrows to a single purpose - containing and cushioning Alex's relentless erections. The jockstrap material stretches taut as it molds perfectly to Alex's package, soaking up the endless stream of pre-cum and semen.

Alex grunts and adjusts the jockstrap, fingers brushing over the flattened surface that was once Paul's face. "Damn bro, this thing is unreal! Feels like it was made just for my junk! And fuck its still dry as fuck! Thanks genie bro!"

But the genie is gone. And so is the lamp. Alex shrugs and sprawls out on the couch. He had a great day ahead of him- gym, videogames, and beer. No thoughts spent on who he was... or who his jockstrap had been either.

[axeeglitter]

Here's to our thirties

The old wooden sign reading “Blackthorn Lake House” still hung crookedly from the rusted iron post at the end of the long gravel driveway, half-hidden by overgrown ivy. Joey’s truck rattled over the familiar potholes as the two men drove in silence for the last stretch. It was late May, the air thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and blooming wildflowers. Duncan stared out the passenger window, one elbow resting on the door, his expression unreadable.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Joey finally said, breaking the quiet. “Coming back here after all these years.”

Duncan nodded slowly. “Fifteen years. I still remember the last summer we spent here like it was yesterday. Mum cried for weeks after we left. She couldn’t even look at the place again.”

The house emerged from the trees like a ghost from their childhood. A large, two-story Victorian-style lakeside retreat with dark timber framing, wide verandas, and tall windows that once let in endless summer light. Now the paint was faded and peeling, the shutters on the upper floor hung at odd angles, and moss clung to the roof tiles. The garden had gone wild tall grass swaying in the breeze, rose bushes grown into chaotic thickets, and the old wooden dock stretching out over the dark water of the lake like a skeletal finger.

They parked and stepped out. The evening air was cool, carrying the gentle lapping of water against the shore. Crickets had already begun their nightly chorus.

“Still standing, at least,” Joey muttered, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Your mum never sold it?”

“Couldn’t bring herself to. It’s been in the family since my great-grandfather built it. After Uncle Richard disappeared… she just locked the doors and paid someone to check on it once a year.”

They climbed the creaky porch steps. Duncan pulled out an old key that still somehow worked. The heavy oak door groaned open, releasing a rush of stale, dusty air that smelled of aged wood, old books, and faint traces of pipe tobacco that somehow never fully faded.

Inside, time had frozen. The furniture was still draped in white sheets like ghosts. Duncan pulled one off the big leather sofa in the living room, sending a cloud of dust dancing in the golden evening light filtering through the windows.

“Jesus,” Joey laughed softly, running his fingers along the carved mantelpiece. “Look at this. We used to race Matchbox cars right here. You always cheated.”

“I did not,” Duncan protested with a grin. “You just sucked at it.”

They spent the next hour exploring the ground floor together, beers in hand. Every room triggered another memory. The kitchen where they’d made disastrous pancake experiments. The hallway where they’d slid down the banister until Duncan’s mother caught them. The study lined with dark oak shelves still filled with Uncle Richard’s old travel books, maps, and strange artifacts from every corner of the world.

Eventually they made their way upstairs, footsteps echoing on the worn hardwood. The door to the attic was at the end of the corridor, half-hidden behind a tall cabinet. Duncan hesitated for a moment before opening it. Narrow stairs led up into darkness. He flicked on the old light switch. A single bare bulb hummed to life, casting long shadows across the vast, cluttered space.

The attic was exactly as they remembered it low rafters, trunks stacked high, old furniture covered in sheets, and shelves upon shelves of Uncle Richard’s souvenirs. Brass instruments, carved wooden masks, colorful textiles, strange coins, and glass bottles from distant lands.

They sat on an old Persian rug in the middle of the floor, legs stretched out, cracking open fresh beers.

“God, we were so sure we’d end up like him,” Joey said quietly, gesturing at the collection around them. “Traveling the world. No ties. Pure freedom.”

Duncan took a long sip. “Yeah. Remember how we’d play explorers up here? You’d put on that old turban and declare yourself Sultan Joey the Magnificent. I was always your loyal adventurer sidekick.”

Joey chuckled. “We swore we’d never settle down. No mortgages, no office jobs, no responsibilities. Just passports full of stamps and stories worth telling.”

A comfortable silence fell for a moment before Duncan’s voice grew heavier. “Instead, I’m turning thirty in two days with a wedding planned, a promotion that feels more like a cage, and a spare tire I can’t get rid of no matter how many times I join a gym. Kelly’s great, but… sometimes I wonder what the hell happened to us.”

Joey stared at the floor. “Tell me about it. Cynthia’s seven months pregnant. I love her. I really do. But I’m still pouring pints at The Crown six nights a week. No degree, no prospects, just scraping by. We were supposed to be different, Duncan. We had stars in our eyes.”

They talked for a long time about the girls, the jobs, the quiet disappointment that had crept into their lives like fog over the lake. The conversation eventually drifted back to Uncle Richard.

“You know… I still think about him,” Duncan said, voice low. “Mum never talks about it. The official story was that he just… vanished. Packed a bag one night in late August and was gone. No note. No body. The police investigated for months but found nothing. Some people thought he ran off with a woman. Others said suicide. But we both know that wasn’t him.”

Joey nodded slowly. “He was the happiest person I’ve ever met. Always laughing, always planning the next trip. Remember that scar on his arm he said came from a camel bite in Morocco? Or the way he’d tell stories about getting lost in the souks of Marrakech? Who would have thought this would be his last trip…”

Duncan stood up and walked over to a particular shelf. He picked up a small, ornate oil lamp made of aged brass with intricate oriental patterns sitting on a dusty box. It looked remarkably clean compared to everything else in the attic.

"This was his favorite piece,” Duncan murmured. “He told us once that it was special. Said it had… history.” He turned it over in his hands. “Funny. After he disappeared, Mum wanted everything cleared out, but she couldn’t touch this room. Said it felt like he was still here.”

What Duncan didn’t know what no one in the family had ever known was the truth. Uncle Richard had indeed found this lamp years earlier during one of his travels. He had become its master. He had made his wishes. And when the Genie had finished granting them in his own cruel, creative way, Richard had been transformed and rewritten into a new life far from this one. The Genie had neatly erased him from this world, leaving only mystery and grief behind. The lamp had returned here, waiting patiently for the next pair of dreamers.

Joey stood up and joined him, taking the lamp gently. “Crazy to think we used to rub this thing as kids, hoping a genie would pop out and take us on adventures.” He rubbed his thumb across the surface absentmindedly while continuing to speak. “Imagine if it actually worked. We could fix everything. Get our old bodies back. Have the careers we should have had. Live the life we always talked about.”

He tossed the lamp lightly to Duncan. “Your turn to make a wish, birthday boy.”

Duncan caught it with a laugh and rubbed it as well, playing along. “Yeah, sure. Three wishes to turn our boring lives into something legendary.”

The moment his fingers completed the second rub, the lamp began to vibrate.

At first it was subtle a faint tremor. Then it grew stronger. Duncan frowned. “Joey… it’s getting warm.”

Joey stepped closer. “What do you mean warm? Let me see…”

Suddenly the brass grew scalding hot. Duncan cried out in shock and pain. “Fuck! It’s burning me!” He tried to drop it, but for a terrifying second his fingers seemed stuck to the metal. Joey grabbed at it instinctively to help, and searing pain shot through both their palms.

They finally managed to fling the lamp to the floor. It clattered loudly against the wooden boards. Both men staggered back, clutching their hands. Their palms were bright red, already blistering, the skin looking raw and angry. The pain was intense, throbbing in time with their racing heartbeats.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell was that?!” Joey gasped; teeth gritted. Tears of pain pricked at the corners of his eyes. “It felt like molten iron!”

Duncan was breathing hard, staring at the lamp on the floor. Thick purple smoke had begun to leak from its spout, swirling unnaturally, rising and twisting in deliberate patterns. The air in the attic grew heavy, charged, as if the temperature itself had shifted.

The smoke thickened, coalescing, taking shape.

A tall, powerfully muscled figure began to form bronzed skin, bare chest, sheer blue silk pants. The Genie’s eyes opened, glowing faintly, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

The two friends stood frozen, pain and terror mixing as they stared at the impossible being now standing before them in the dusty attic.

The Genie tilted his head slightly, regarding their burned hands with mock sympathy. He raised one finger as if to say “wait,” and the purple smoke around him stirred again.

Then, very slowly, he began to move toward them.

The Genie stood before them in the dimly lit attic, towering and impossibly real. He was easily six and a half feet tall, with broad, powerfully sculpted shoulders and a chest that looked carved from warm bronze. His skin glowed with a healthy, sun-kissed tone. The only clothing, he wore was a pair of sheer blue silk pants that hung low on his narrow hips, the fabric so thin it revealed the heavy outline of his cock and balls with every subtle shift of his body. A faint, exotic scent of sandalwood, spice, and something electric filled the air.

Joey and Duncan pressed back against an old trunk, hearts hammering. Their burned hands throbbed with fierce pain.

“This isn’t real,” Joey whispered, voice shaking. “This can’t be real. Duncan, tell me this is some kind of fucked-up hallucination.”

Duncan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the being. “If it is, we’re both having it.”

The Genie’s lips curved into a slow, amused smile. His eyes a deep, piercing amber studied them with predatory interest. “Fear not, Masters. I mean you no immediate harm.” His voice was rich, cultured, with a faint accent that seemed to shift between languages. “You rubbed the lamp together. You freed me together. Therefore, you share three wishes. No more. No less.”

He took one graceful step forward. Joey flinched.

“Stay back!” Duncan shouted, cradling his blistered right hand against his chest. The pain was excruciating, like someone had pressed a hot iron into his palm. Blisters were already forming. Joey’s hand looked just as bad.

The Genie tilted his head, clearly enjoying their terror. “Such small injuries… and yet you tremble. How fragile humans are.” He raised his right hand slowly, deliberately, fingers spread. Purple smoke began to drift lazily from his fingertips. “Allow me to demonstrate my sincerity.”

Joey’s breathing quickened. “Don’t touch us! We don’t want anything from you!”

But the Genie ignored him. The smoke drifted toward them like living tendrils. Duncan tried to scramble backward but hit the trunk. The smoke gently coiled around both men’s injured hands without touching their skin. A strange warmth not burning this time, but soothing, almost silky enveloped their palms.

“Oh God…” Duncan breathed.

At first, nothing visible happened. The pain remained sharp. Then, very slowly, the Genie closed his eyes as if concentrating. The smoke pulsed. A tingling sensation spread across Duncan’s palm, like thousands of tiny needles dancing just beneath the surface. The redness began to fade from the edges inward. Blisters that had started to rise flattened gradually. The raw, angry skin lightened from crimson to pink, then to healthy flesh. The deep throbbing eased into a gentle itch, then disappeared entirely.

Duncan stared, wide-eyed, as he flexed his fingers. No pain. No mark. Nothing.

Joey’s healing was even slower, more theatrical. The Genie clearly wanted them to feel every second. Joey watched in horrified fascination as the blisters on his hand shrank, popped without fluid, and the skin knitted itself back together. The process took nearly a full minute. When it was done, both men’s hands looked completely untouched, as if the burns had never happened.

The Genie lowered his hand. The purple smoke dissolved. “Better?” he asked, voice dripping with mock politeness.

Duncan examined his palm under the attic bulb, turning it over and over. “How… how did you do that?”

“I am a Genie. Healing is among the simplest of arts.” He smiled again, but the expression never reached his eyes. Those eyes held centuries of cruel entertainment. “Now. You have three wishes. I suggest you use them thoughtfully. Many before you have regretted hasty words.”

Joey swallowed hard. His mind was racing. Part of him still screamed that this was impossible a prank, a dream, gas leak, anything. But the healed hands were undeniable. The being in front of them was undeniable.

He looked at Duncan. “We should just leave. Run. This thing is dangerous.”

Duncan hesitated, breathing heavily. “And if it’s real? If we actually have three wishes?” His voice dropped. “Joey… we’ve been talking all night about how we fucked up our lives. This could be our only chance.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Fear and desperate hope warred on both their faces.

“Fine,” Joey said finally, voice hoarse. “But we think carefully. No rushing. We discuss every wish.”

The Genie crossed his powerful arms over his broad chest and waited, clearly entertained by their mortal panic.

Duncan spoke first, choosing his words with care. “Before we wish anything… what are the limits? Can we wish for anything?”

“Almost anything,” the Genie replied smoothly. “I cannot raise the dead in their original form. I cannot force genuine love where none exists. And I cannot undo wishes already granted. Everything else…” He spread his hands. “Is negotiable.”

Joey ran a hand through his hair, thinking hard. “Okay. Okay. We need to be smart.”

They sat down again on the old Persian rug, keeping distance from the Genie. For nearly twenty minutes they talked in low, urgent voices, weighing possibilities while the Genie watched silently, his smirk never fading.

Duncan went deep into his regrets. “I’ve put on nearly thirty pounds since university. I feel old. Slow. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a guy who gave up. If I could just have my twenty-year-old body back lean, strong, full of energy that alone would change everything. I could actually enjoy life again instead of feeling like I’m already declining at twenty-nine.”

Joey nodded slowly. “I get it. For me… it’s the wasted potential. I dropped out after first year. If I’d stuck with it, gotten my degree in finance like I planned… I could’ve given Cynthia and the baby a real future. Instead, I’m pouring beers and worrying about rent. I wish I had actually succeeded. That I’d become someone.”

They kept talking, circling the same fears. What if the wishes backfired? What if the Genie twisted them? They tried to add safeguards, but every condition they imagined felt clumsy.

Eventually Duncan stood up, lamp in hand. His voice was steady despite the fear in his eyes.

“I wish I had the body I had at twenty.”

The Genie’s amber eyes flashed with dark delight. He bowed his head slightly.

“As you wish.”

A faint pulse of energy passed through the attic, but no visible change occurred yet. Duncan exhaled shakily. “It… it didn’t do anything.”

“It will,” the Genie said softly. “When all three wishes are spoken.”

Joey took the lamp next. His hands were trembling. He thought of Cynthia, of the baby on the way, of all the nights he lay awake wondering how he’d provide. His voice cracked slightly.

“I wish I had gotten my degree and made something of myself.”

“As you wish,” the Genie repeated, the same hungry smile playing on his lips.

Another subtle pulse. Joey felt a strange flutter in his chest but pushed it down. He handed the lamp back to Duncan.

They stood shoulder to shoulder now, holding the lamp together. The weight of the moment pressed down on them. This was their last wish the one that had to count.

Duncan spoke carefully. “We’ve spent our whole lives dreaming about this. Travel. Adventure. Real excitement. No more boring routines. No more feeling like we settled.”

Joey finished the thought, voice firm despite his fear. “We wish for the exciting life full of travel and adventure we were always meant to have.”

The Genie was silent for several heartbeats. His smile slowly widened into something predatory and ancient. For the first time, both men felt a chill run down their spines, as if they had just stepped off a cliff.

“As you wish,” the Genie finally purred, each word dripping with satisfaction.

He raised his hand dramatically.

The air in the attic grew thick with purple smoke and electric tension. A low humming filled their ears. Both Joey and Duncan felt a strange warmth bloom in the center of their chests pleasant at first, then rapidly intensifying.

They looked at each other, eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and exhilarating hope. For a short moment, they felt like they were on the edge of the greatest adventure of their lives. They had found the long-lost spark that animated their hearts and days.

In front of them, the genie was standing straight, a malicious smile covered his tanned cheeks and with a sweet movement of his wrist and fingers, he snaped.

Purple smoke exploded outward like a living storm, choking them in thick, electric heat. Joey gasped in surprise first shortly followed by an intense sensation of discomfort followed by pain as the agony ripped into his legs. “AHHHHHHH THE FUCK IS THAT!!! IT HURTS! MAKE IT STOP!” His thighs and calves shattered and swelled violently, bones lengthening with wet cracking sounds while powerful new muscle tore through his flesh. He collapsed to his knees as his feet followed, toes breaking and stretching, arches rising painfully as his shoes split apart. Joey tried to look around with the hope to see his friend ready to help him or the genie about to snap his fingers again to cancel this clearly bad outcome of their wishes but he saw nothing, only purple glittery smoke bocking everything from his view. “HELP ME!” He screamed one more time with the hope of finding help but he only heard a villainous laugh back in return echoing through the smoke and mist and coming back to his ears. What has been granted cannot be taken back, master… Duncan roared in terror as well. In the blink of an eye, the attic was gone and now all he could see was purple smoke all around him. He could still feel the wooden floor under his shoes but he couldn’t even see it. “Joey! Joey, are you alright? Where are you?! JOEY!!” he creamed for his friend feeling the anxiety skyrocketing through his veins. “JOE… AAAAHHHHHH!!” his sentence was cut short as he felt a rush of heat followed by pain of breaking bones crashing through his legs. Joey could feel his legs ballooned next, muscles exploding with brutal force far beyond anything from his youth.

The Genie hovered closer, smiling with dark amusement. “Begging already? How precious. This is only the beginning, Masters…” his voice echoing to both of them through the smoke.

The burning surged upward. Both men gasped and screamed as their chests expanded with sickening pops. Ribs widened, pectorals ballooning into thick, heavy slabs of muscle that stretched their skin painfully tight. “It’s breaking me apart!” Duncan howled. “Please… make it stop!”

Coarse dark hair erupted in their armpits as fresh sweat glands activated, flooding the attic with a thick, pungent masculine musk, heavy testosterone and raw male sweat. A dense treasure trail raced up from their groins, spreading across their newly carved abs and fanning over their swollen pecs.

Joey whimpered brokenly, “I can’t… I can’t breathe… please…” as he was feeling his overheating body starting to shut down and his vision blurring darkly because of his restarting nervous system and rearranging organs.

Duncan was crying and screaming in pain as he could feel his limbs starting to spasm on their own, muscles activating by forced electric signal sent by his brain drowning in a cocktail of hormones. He could feel his heart beat in each of his cells and could hear the sound of his pumping heart. Duncan was starting to dissociate when he heard the genie snap his fingers one more time. Out of nowhere, he felt his senses coming back to him as he heard the genie talk directly in his brain. “We don’t want you to miss the best part of the show, do we?” Out of nowhere, Duncan felt blood coursing through his body in one central position as he could feel his cock straining his jeans and getting trapped against his muscled and hairy thighs.  

His cock surged forward with vicious intensity, thickening and lengthening into a massive uncut cock and with one more spasm from his un-controlling body and pumping heart, his cock contracted and torn apart his fly as he felt it slap hard against his hard rock forming abs. in the blink of an eye, it started to feel active and soon he could feel precum pumping out of his urethra and slushing all around his hairy abs.

Joey could feel changes happening to him as well. He was screaming in pain and fear as he could feel his cock straining against what was left of his Calvin Klein underwear. He could feel his heart beat in his hardening cock head as he could feel his foreskin starting to tighten around it because of the pression caused by his blood system. He could feel his nuts pulling lower and lower as sperm started to be product in huge proportions. His cock head was starting to look downward because of its weight and now was permanently bent down and slightly on the left side because of his left ball which were bigger than the right one.

“Please…. Stop, thi… iis” Joey said as he could feel his throat starting to heat up shortly followed by his chin and whole face.  His features twisted in agony as his jaw sharpened, cheekbones rose, and his eyes tilted. “HHAAAAaaAaaAaaaAAaaa… UUUHHHHhhhhHHHhH “screamed Joey as his voice cracked and shattered mid-scream, shifting into a younger, melodic tone thick with a heavy Arabic accent. “MAkE iT stoP!!” Joey screamed one more time as his voice settled for a younger one.

Duncan’s own face hardened into something rugged and commanding, heavy stubble exploding across his jaw while a thick mustache appeared above his upper lip. “What is happening?!” he screamed as his voice dropped into a deep, authoritative baritone.

“You two already sound way more in character!” said the genie to himself as he could see the possibilities opening for both of his masters in front of his eyes, appearing and disappearing in the purple mist.

Joey was still crying in fear and pain, his knees still on the ground when he felt the heat coming back. “GOD NO, NOT AGAIN… PLEASE!!” the heat continued to climb and hike all around his tightened skin, leaving behind a rich golden-bronze hue, turning his skin into smooth coffee-toned perfection while Duncan’s deepened into a reddish sun-bronzed, powerful athletic glow. Joey was crying as he could see his transformed and tanned hands in front of him, no sound coming out of his mouth because even the sound of his voice was terrifying to him now. Creeping behind him, he heard the low baritone voice of the genie once again and felt chills running up his elongated spine. “Something is missing… I don’t see your character fully… But what is it…” the genie continued as Joey turned around trying to face him and thinking that maybe if he did, he would be able to beg him face to face to turn him back but when he did, he saw nothing except the purple void. “Found it!” he heard once again coming in front of him. Joey’s eyes opened wide as he saw the genie materialized in front of him and with the flick of his wrists, he felt his torn clothes disintegrate into glitter that swirled in the mist.

Joey was hoping to see the kind face he saw when the genie first appeared to them but all he saw was the manly face wearing a vicious smile. The genie opened his hands and Joey could feel pressure building in his dick. “What are you doing?” He asked shaking in fear of what was about to happen. “Please tell me, what are you do… AAAAHHHHHHH” The genie reached down and roughly seized Joey’s foreskin still covering the head of his enlarged new cock. Joey’s eyes widened in pure panic.

“No! No no no… IT’S GONNA BREAK, STOOOOO!!!” he screamed.

Duncan stared in horror and fear as he could hear the deep accented voice of someone echoing back to him, slightly muted by the mist hugging his modified body. He could feel his body continuing to spasm on its own without him having any control on it. He could feel his dick exhaling drops of precum with every heart beat, smashed against his hairy abs and leaking along his muscled thighs. The Genie turned his back to Joey and smiled as he saw Duncan was still lost in the haze of his hormones and sensations while continuing to tear on Joey’s foreskin. “I’m begging you… Please… Stop teari…”

SCRATCH With one flick of his wrist, the genie torn out the foreskin as it detached in a snapping motion, releasing Joey’s cock that flopped back down against his legs, pointing downwards. His cock head now fully uncovered and extremely sensitive as he could feel the particles of purple dust touching his extremely sensitive skin. Joey was crying in fear as he realized the pain was completely gone.in fact, in a couple of second, all sensations were gone. It felt like his nerves had been numbed by years of frictions and movements against his now hardened cock head. He looked down and realize a neatly crafted scar was circling the base of his cock head. He tilted his head back up to the genie as he watched the genie looking with a smile at the palm of his hand. “Why have you done that… What have you done to me…” Joey continued to ask in a febrile voice. The genie didn’t even look at him. He just continued to smile as he grabbed back his thick veiny cock in the palm of his left hand.

The Genie held the twitching piece of foreskin in his palm, exhaled a stream of purple smoke over it. The piece of foreskin started to levitate and rotate faster and faster in the palm of the genie. Joey could start to feel like his cock head was getting jerked off even though no one was touching it. The faster the foreskin went, the more he felt he was on the edge of cumming. Joey tilted his head back up with almost out of breath as he could feel the orgasm rushing to him and his mouth barely open to let his breathing flow out. The genie was looking at him and with a quick movement, he closes his hand on the foreskin. Joey could feel pressure building in his groin as it felt like he was getting jerked off faster and faster. Then as he was about to cum, his eyes starting to revolve inside his skull, the genie opened his hand again and all the sensations were gone, leaving Joey out of breath on the edge of orgasm. In the palm of his hand, the foreskin was gone, reformed as a shiny golden loop earing with a blue sapphire on it. Joey didn’t understand any of what happened, his brain still trying to function properly as it still was lacking oxygen from the forced edging session. “What was that… what have you… done… Where is it…” Joey asked out of breath but the genie never answered, he just snapped his fingers and suddenly the golden foreskin earing disappeared in shimmer. Instantly, Joey felt a pressure building on his left lobe as he could feel it heating up with a pinching sensation. joey was left flabbergasted, not understanding any of what just happened and what happened to his foreskin. He tried to look around, maybe catching his reflection in a shiny surface or something, but he didn’t see any of it. All he could feel was the cold wind on his numb cock head and the sensation of something dangling from his ear.

The Genie laughed softly, stroking his own massive erection. “I knew something was missing, master… now you look exactly like you should have, ready for your next big adventure.” The genie took a step back and snapped his fingers one more time. Both Duncan and Joey felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders and like they could breathe again for the first time since the mist invaded their lungs.

As the two men collapsed, gasping and twitching in their new bodies, their old clothes finished to dissolve away. They stood there naked and, on the ground, as they could see the mist starting to fall to the ground and with them changing the dusty attic into a new room. Something with white industrial lights handing from the rooves. Then tiles started to appear on the walls soon followed by the ancient wooden cabinets turned into metallic lockers covered with stickers and grim. as the mist finally reach their heads, new clothes started to shimmer into existence around their transformed bodies. A tight pair of black sport shorts for Duncan and a fitted V collar T-shirt with a black baseball hat. Then a pair of well used white trainers and high sport socks appeared on his bigger feet. On Joey, a white jockstrap appeared on his body, forcing his cock to look downwards again, now fully entrapped inside the cotton prison and almost nudging against his own ass hole. The pouch being extremely prominent. Then a pair of tight-fitting black soccer shoes appeared on his tanned musky feet as socks finished to materialized against his legs climbing up to his knees.

The Genie kept lazily stroking his enormous, throbbing cock, veins pulsing under his bronze fingers as he watched the two broken men on the floor. His smile widened with sadistic pleasure.

“Look at you both… already so pretty in your new skins.” He then grabbed Joey by his thick, dark hair and yanked his head forward. “Open up, stud. Time to taste your new reality.”

Joey tried to pull away, eyes wide with terror. “No! Please don’… I’m not… I won’t…!” But the Genie’s grip was iron. He slapped his heavy, leaking cock against Joey’s plump new lips, smearing sticky precum across them.

“That’s it… fight me. I love when masters start to realize I am the one holding the cards.” The Genie laughed, low and cruel, then forced the thick head past Joey’s resisting lips and deep into his mouth. Joey gagged violently, eyes watering as the massive shaft stretched his throat. The Genie held his head in place and began thrusting with slow, deliberate strokes, fucking his face with relish.

“Mmmph! Mmmghh!” Joey’s muffled screams vibrated around the Genie’s cock. Tears streamed down his bronzed cheeks as he choked and drooled.

The Genie groaned in pleasure and taunted him between thrusts. “Yes… just like that. Suck it, stud. This is what your exciting new life tastes like. Keep crying… I love how your throat squeezes when you panic.” He laughed again, deep and mocking, pushing even deeper until Joey’s nose pressed against his hairy musky shimmering pubes.

After several long, brutal minutes of face-fucking, the Genie’s balls tightened. “Here it comes, boy. Drink every drop like the good little whore you’ve always been.”

With a loud, satisfied roar, the Genie came hard. Thick, glowing ropes of purple-tinged cum flooded Joey’s mouth and throat. Joey thrashed, desperately trying to pull back, but the Genie held him firm while laughing in pure pleasure. “Swallow it all. That’s it… good boy.” Joey continued to resist, gasping for air as he could feel cum rushing directly in his stomach. A weird feeling invading his throat and mouth as it felt like his tongue was numbing a bit. After a couple of minutes frozen like that, the Genie slowly pull his still rock-hard cock free with a wet pop. Joey immediately tried to scream for help and gasping for air.

“Air, I need air…. Huuuuuuuuuu. I couldn’t breathe…” But the words that came out were completely different: “هواء، أحتاج إلى هواء... هووووو ...!” His eyes widened in pure panic. He clutched his throat, trying again. “What the fuck?! Why can’t I speak English?! WHAT THE FUCK!!” Only fluent, desperate Arabic poured out: “يا إلهي! لماذا لا أستطيع التحدث بالإنجليزية؟! يا إلهي!”.

No matter how hard he tried, English was completely gone. He kept repeating frantic Arabic pleas, voice cracking with rising hysteria.

“أرجوك… أعدوني! أنا لا أريد هذا!” (Please… change me back! I don’t want this!)

Duncan stared in the distance, his head still spinning and still feeling dizzy from the smoke leaving his older lungs, taking more time to regain his senses. “Joey? Are you ok? Where are you, where are we?! What happened to us...”

The Genie turned away from Joey’s sobbing of incomprehension. He took a look at Duncan and with a happy smile of work well done, he snapped his fingers.

Duncan suddenly gasped, clutching his head as memories began flashing violently before his eyes. Kelly smiling at him on their first date suddenly appeared clearly in front of his eyes, he felt like reliving this moment in the smallest detail but as his lips left her, he opened his eyes only to realize Kelly was now burning from his memories as in her place stood a very muscled Latino athlete looking at him with eyes full of admiration and hungriness. He couldn’t understand what happened or why that happened, suddenly he blinked and he was no longer on a bench in the park but instead in his living room with his computer on his laps, Kelly hugging him as they were planning their honeymoon, the house they wanted to buy, lazy Sunday mornings together… One by one they ignited and disintegrated. In their place, new memories flooded in with brutal clarity: the thrill of sneaking young athletes into hotel rooms during tournaments, the wet sound of tight asses stretching around his thick cock, the addictive taste of sweat and submission, the roar of stadium crowds mixed with moans in locker room showers.

“No… no, stop!” Duncan screamed, voice breaking.

“Kelly! Stop that please… KELLY!! I … I… Get out of my head! That’s not me… I’m not… I want to marry her… I love her… I… love her? Fuck… I love… her tight… No that’s not me, STOP IT!!! I love… his… ass? I LOVE FUCKING ASS!! NO Please… don’t…. do this…. Kelly… I love…” He fell to his knees as more of his old life was ripped away. The memory of proposing to Kelly burned to nothing and was replaced by the image of him balls-deep in a muscular exchange student after a late training session. Every time he tried to cling to who he was, another piece turned to ash. His personality was shifting, getting confidence, dominance, and an insatiable hunger for male bodies overwriting his old shy, settled nature.

“Please… I don’t want this… I’m Duncan, I’m not…” His resistance grew weaker as the new identity took root. Suddenly a new memory appeared in flashing color in front of his eyes, a new name appeared and engraved itself in his brain. Noah. He is Noah, he has always been and always will be. He is the coach, Noah. The traveler. The predator who lived for the next tight hole and the next victory.

The Genie watched with dark delight, lazily stroking himself again. “Welcome in your new life, master Duncan.”

The man who used to be Duncan, now fully Noah, stepped up as his manly hands caressed his hairy pecs, a dominant smile appearing on his cheeks as he took his first step into his new life, his cock rock hard and pressing against the front of his shorts, leaving nothing to imagination. He took another step and suddenly Joey heard the Snap echoing again. Suddenly, he felt his body starting to levitate from the wet musky tiled floor to the seat of a wooden bench that had seen thousands of athletic asses through the years. Joey tried to resist but his body was completely immobilizing by the purple magic controlling and positioning him, his legs then were positioned up, giving free access to his tight hole. Joey tried once again to scream for help but was still in incapacity to talk anything else then Arabic. He heard the genie laugh as he saw Duncan getting closer and closer to him, positioning himself between Joey’s forcibly spread legs.

His thick, veiny uncut cock throbbed angrily, already drooling precum onto the boy’s smooth, tight hole. Joey’s heart hammered in terror.

“Duncan, please don’t do this. We are friend, remember about Kelly. No don’t please, DON’T!!” he begged in fluent Arabic, voice shaking.

“أرجوك... هذا ليس أنت! أنا جوي! توقف!!!” (Please… this isn’t you! It's me, I’m Joey! Stop!).

Noah didn’t understand a word. He just grinned, spat on his cock, and pressed the fat, leaking head against Joey’s virgin entrance. With one brutal thrust, he forced half his massive length inside. Joey screamed, back arching off the bench as his hole was violently stretched open.

“AAAAAH! ألم! أرجوك توقف! إنه يؤلمني!” (It hurts! Please stop! It hurts so much!). Noah groaned in pleasure and kept pushing deeper, inch by thick inch, until his heavy balls rested against Joey’s ass. “Fuck… so goddamn tight. This Moroccan bitch was made for cock.”

Joey’s eyes rolled back as Noah started fucking him with long, powerful strokes, each one slamming harder than the last. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the locker room. Joey’s heavy circumcised cock bounced uselessly against his abs, leaking despite his horror.

Suddenly, Joey noticed movement above them. The Genie hovered near the ceiling, lazily stroking his own enormous cock and watching with cruel delight. Their eyes met. The Genie smirked, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers.

In that instant, the Genie’s form disappeared in shimmer. Then Joey saw from the corner of his eyes the air near the lockers next to the door starting to move and agitate. He then saw the genie’s silhouette appear and stated to melt and shrink, transforming into a tall, muscular young athlete with short black hair and a cocky grin. At the same moment, the locker room door swung open.

Captain Josh and four of his teammates walked in, already half-hard in their shorts thanks to the very intensive training and the overdose of testosterone and horniness running through their veins.

The newly-transformed Genie simply stepped forward and joined them, laughing with them all like he had always been a part of the group. No one else noticed anything strange and then even started to laugh back and talk like they truly know each other from years of practices and friendship.

“Coach! you already started without us?” Josh laughed loudly. “Look at Ahmed. Little slut can’t even wait.”

The players quickly stripped, tossing their clothes aside. Thick, hard cocks sprang free. Joey tried to plead with them, eyes wide with panic.

“أرجوكم، أتوسل إليكم، يجب أن تساعدوني. أنا لست أحمد، أنا جوي، لدي حبيبة وسأرزق بطفل قريبًا. أريد العودة إلى بيتي، ساعدوني، أرجوكم!!” (Please I’m begging you, you have to help me. I am not this Ahmed, I am Joey, I have a girlfriend and soon a baby boy. I want to go back home, Help me, please!!!).

The players just chuckled, not understanding a single word that came out of Joey’s mouth. One of them then took a step forward, his thick veiny cock in hand as he lazily jerked off. Joey opened tilted his head only to realize it was the genie now in the jock’s body. “أرجوك لا تفعل ذلك، لا أريد هذه الحياة، لم أتمنَّ ذلك... مممم ...” (Please don’t do that, I don’t want this life, I didn’t wish for that… mmMMMmmGGgMGgggGG) Joey couldn’t even finish his words as the genie grabbed Joey by the hair and shoved his thick cock straight into the boy’s pleading mouth, cutting off his words. “Shut the fuck up with that Arabic shit,” he laughed. “Good little cumdump doesn’t need to talk.”

Everyone roared with laughter as they surrounded him. “Let’s go guys, we have a tanned bitch to fuck!” Josh mocked while lining up his cock at Joey’s already-stuffed hole alongside Noah’s.

“Maybe you’ll start to pick some words up after taking so much American cream!”.

They descended on him without mercy. Noah and Josh double-penetrated his ass, stretching him brutally wide while two others took turns fucking his throat once the genie was done with him. Hands roamed over his sweat-slicked bronze body, slapping his ass, pinching his nipples, and constantly tugging on the golden earring. Every pull sent humiliating jolts of forced pleasure through his cock.

“Fucking perfect exchange student,” one player grunted as he hammered into Joey’s throat. “Came all the way from Morocco just to be our team bitch.”

“Bet his family would be so proud seeing him like this,” another laughed. “He truly lives his American dream!”

Joey could only sob and gag around the cocks in his mouth, tears streaming down his face. “مممغhhh— أرجوكم… أنا لست مثل هذا… أريد Cynthia… أريد طفلي…” (Please… I’m not like this… I want Cynthia… I want my baby…). None of them could understand him and they didn’t care. They just kept using him harder, rotating positions, filling every hole, painting his bronzed skin with sweat and spit.

After what felt like an eternity of relentless pounding, the Genie still wearing the jock identity saw that Joey was on the edge of losing himself, his cock played with like a joystick by the one currently fucking him. He felt like he was on the edge but never close enough so he could be forced to cum. The genie then grabbed the athlete that was hard fucking Joey by the shoulders and tapped his scapula as he asked for him to give him the space so he could finish inside the bitch. The athlete laughs and then took his cock out of Joey’s opened ass. “أرجوك... لا أستطيع فعل ذلك بعد الآن... أرجوك...” (Please… I can’t do …that, anymore… Please…). Once again, Joey was cut short as the genie got his mouth closer to his ear and murmured. “I hope you’ll enjoy your new life, Master!” Suddenly, he grabbed the earing between his calloused fingers and Joey felt like someone was directly playing with his cockhead and whole length. It felt like he was getting jerked off by the most delicate hand ever, it felt like he was getting sucked by the warmest mouth. His breath started to path faster and faster as he we slowly losing his sight, invaded by a pure feeling of pleasure. In front of his blurring vision, the genie smiled as he started to fuck him faster and faster, enjoying the view of Joey slowly losing his grip on reality and falling into dissociation. With one more thrust of his cock deep against Joey’s prostate and a pinch of the hearing, the genie came hard and deep inside Joey’s welcoming hole, and as he did, Joey felt the orgasm finally rushing past the point of no return as he could feel his length starting to contract and in an instant, starting to release the only trace of his Britannic DNA.

A devastating orgasm ripped through him. His circumcised cock exploded hands-free, shooting thick ropes of cum across his own chest and abs while every muscle in his body spasmed around the cocks buried inside him.

In that exact moment, his mind shattered and reformed.

Memories burned away in purple fire: the old house at Blackthorn Lake… the summers with Duncan… proposing to Cynthia… the ultrasound pictures of their unborn baby boy… nights at the bar dreaming of travel… all of it turned to ash. New memories flooded in to replace them, a sun-drenched childhood in Morocco, arriving in Huston at 21 as an exchange student, struggling with English, quickly discovering he was gay and addicted to getting fucked and used like the sextoy he truly was. The endless locker room sessions, the hotel rooms during away games, the thrill of being passed around by the team. He was Ahmed now. A 21-year-old power bottom who lived for cock, especially Coach Noah’s and his teammates’. English was hard for him, but his body spoke fluently.

When the orgasm finally faded, Ahmed blinked slowly, a slutty, satisfied grin spreading across his cum-covered face.

“Coach Noah…” he moaned in heavily accented English; voice hoarse but eager. “المزيد... مارس الجنس معي بقوة أكبر، من فضلك...”.

The players laughed and kept going, knowing their favorite cumdump was ready for another round.

Coach Noah was waiting behind them, his arms crossed as he felt his cock jump in anticipation knowing he would require a private session with Ahmed later on in his office. Only Ahmed and him.

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In the months that followed, Noah and Ahmed lived the exciting life full of travel and adventure they had wished for so desperately in that dusty attic.

They flew from city to city, country to country, following the demanding schedule of international university tournaments. New hotels every week. New locker rooms. New opponents, and new teammates, eager to celebrate victories deep into the night.

Noah’s powerful 6’3” body, thick with muscle and commanding presence, was everything Duncan had once dreamed of and more. He thrived as the dominant, respected coach who lived for the game… and for bending young athletes over whenever the mood struck him.

Ahmed, the 21-year-old Moroccan exchange student, had become the star attacking midfielder everyone wanted. He had gotten his degree in the form of a sports scholarship and was well on his way to making something of himself and his life, at least on the pitch and in the bedroom. His bronzed, athletic body and eager, talented hole made him the team’s favorite power bottom. He barely spoke English, but he didn’t need to. His body communicated perfectly.

Every night after training or matches, Ahmed found himself exactly where he now belonged: legs spread wide, moaning sluttily in Arabic and broken English as Coach Noah and the boys took turns wrecking him. The golden earring made from his former foreskin remained his most sensitive spot, one playful tug and he would cum hands-free, shaking and begging for more like the perfect cumdump he had become.

All that remained were sun-soaked memories of Morocco, the thrill of arriving in Huston, and the addictive rush of being passed around by his coach and teammates. He was happier than he had ever been, a gay, cock-hungry 21-year-old who lived for the next load and the next victory.

The wishes had been granted and they would finally live the lives they craved for.

They no longer remembered Cynthia and Kelly. They no longer remembered the baby and their bored lives. They no longer remembered Duncan, Joey, the attic, or the terrified man they used to be.

High above, safely tucked away in the ornate brass lamp that now rested on Coach Noah’s office desk, the Genie leaned back in his lamp with a contented sigh. Once known as Uncle Richard many decades ago, he had learned this lesson the hard way himself after wishing for a life full of magical adventures and being able to help people while having a long and joyful life full of pleasure and happy moments. Now he made sure others learned it too, slowly, thoroughly, and without mercy, one wish at the time.

Some dreams are better to be left in the past.

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Hello everyone!!

I hope you’re having an amazing day! This is the story you guys voted for, with a little twist from my side. I had a blast writing it, and I think this one might be one of my all-time favorites to this day.

Thank you so much to everybody who voted in the poll, and thank you so much to @bremenmask for sending me this ask. I really appreciated it, and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

This story officially marks my first step into my thirties, and I hope they’ll be just as good as the previous decade. I want to thank all the friends I’ve made along this journey, and I can’t wait to meet new ones.

To everybody who has sent me kind messages, please know that even if I don’t reply to all of you, I read everything, and I love interacting with you as much as possible. So please continue to send me messages if you want to talk about ideas or simply if you feel lonely :)

A huge thank you as well to @mystrangetfs for his very useful help in brainstorming and putting this story together, especially for helping me create and find the pictures.

I can’t wait to hear your feedback, and I hope you’ll appreciate this story as much as I do.

Here’s to our 30s and to the rest of our lives.

Wish Granted...

[mrhexumtfs]

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.

[misseviehyde]

GEN Z GENIE: JUMPING THROUGH LOOPS

Dan found the app at 2 AM on a Tuesday.

Forty years old, divorced, gut hanging over his waistband, hair thin as tissue paper. He was scrolling through his phone when the icon appeared. Pink. Sparkly. A cartoon genie winking under lashy eyes.

Genie Z—Make a Wish, Bestie! 💖

"Stupid," Dan muttered. But his thumb pressed it anyway.

Pink smoke poured from his phone. Actual smoke—smelling of bubblegum and vanilla and something electric. Dan scrambled backward as it coalesced into a figure.

A girl. Maybe twenty. Blonde hair in a high ponytail, crop top showing a flat tummy, pink lipstick, chewing gum with her mouth open. Big blue eyes rolling like she was already bored with him. She floated cross-legged above his bed, phone in hand, nails painted sparkly pink.

"O-M-G, hi! I'm Lexi? Your totally personal genie?" She snapped her gum. "I grant, like, one wish, so make it count, bestie!"

Dan stared. "You're—you're real?"

"Duh? What kind of fake genie pops out of a phone at 2 AM?" Lexi examined her nails. "So yeah. Wish. Let's go, I have, like, other clients."

Dan's mind raced. Money? Power? His eyes drifted to the mirror across the room—his receding hairline, his soft middle, the tired lines around his eyes.

"I wish I was permanently young again."

Lexi's smile stretched. Something flickered in her eyes—hunger.

"Granted! 💕"

She snapped her fingers. Pink light exploded outward. Dan tried to scream but his voice—

He woke up in silk.

Silk?

Dan sat up and the world tilted wrong. His centre of gravity was lower. His chest—there was weight there—two heavy mounds pulling at him. His hands flew up and grabbed fistfuls of soft, round—

"What the fuck—"

He threw back the covers. Smooth golden legs. Tiny waist. Hips that flared like an hourglass. And between them, a neat strip of blonde hair above a slit he'd never seen from this angle.

Dan scrambled out of bed and caught his reflection in a full-length mirror. A girl stared back. Twenty-one. High round tits—easily a D-cup—defying gravity. A face like a wet dream. Plump pink lips, big blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass. Long blonde hair cascading over bare shoulders.

"LEXI!"

Pink smoke curled in the corner of the room. Lexi materialized, still floating, still chewing gum.

"Happy birthday, Danni! 🎂" She grinned. "You're, like, 21! And you get to live this day forever! Isn't that, like, amazing?"

"Forever?" Dan's voice came out high and breathy—her voice. "You turned me into a girl—"

"You wished to be permanently young! This is, like, permanently young?" Lexi shrugged. "You're gonna be 21 every day forever. You're welcome!"

The door burst open. A maid carried in champagne and strawberries. "Happy birthday, Miss Danni! Your parents left your presents downstairs. The salon team arrives in one hour!"

Dan—Danni—stood there naked. Tits out. Mouth open. Mind reeling.

Lexi giggled. "Have fun, bestie! I'll check in later! 💋"

She vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

Loop 1

Disaster.

Danni tripped down the stairs in heels she didn't know how to walk in. Face-planted into her own birthday cake. Frosting in her hair, icing on her brand-new tits. The party guests—the hot party guests—stared in horror.

She manspread in her birthday dress, flashing her Spanx to the caterers. She called a Birkin bag "nice" and her friend Brittnee looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"Nice?" Brittnee's face said it all.

Danni went to bed confused, frustrated, and wet. Her body was so sensitive. Every brush of silk against her nipples sent shocks through her. She'd caught herself checking out the pool boy's ass and felt sick.

Then she woke up.

Same silk sheets. Same morning. Same maid with champagne.

Again?

Loop 5

Danni had learned to walk in heels. Put one foot in front of the other, sway the hips, own it. She'd learned her friends—Brittnee, Kaycee, Ashlee—were bitches. Wonderful bitches. And they expected her to be one too.

She'd learned her nipples showed through silk and that was the point.

She'd also learned the pool boy's name was Brad. And that he changed in the cabana around noon. And that he had a cock like a fucking prize.

On loop five, Danni "accidentally" walked in on him. Then not so accidentally dropped to her knees.

"Miss Danni, I—" Brad started.

"Shut up," she said, and took him in her mouth.

Oh God. The taste. The weight on her tongue. The way he swelled and throbbed as she sucked. Her old self would've been disgusted. Her new self was dripping.

She pulled off with a pop. "Fuck me."

Brad didn't need telling twice. He bent her over the cabana lounger and pushed inside her—stretching her open, filling her up, ruining her for anyone else.

"Ooooh... fuck yes—" Danni grabbed the cushion, nails digging in, as Brad's thick cock hit something deep inside her that made her see stars. "Harder—harder—"

She came three times. Three. In twenty minutes. Her old body had been lucky to manage one every few months.

After, lying with Brad's cum leaking out of her, Danni felt something. Not guilt.

Power.

She'd made him hard. Made him beg. With just a look and a pout.

Loop 15

Danni discovered the joy of cruelty.

There was a girl at her party—Megan. Chubby. Bad skin. Cheap dress. A hanger-on who'd somehow scored an invite. Danni's old self would've felt sorry for her.

But watching Kaycee and Ashlee rip into Megan's outfit, watching the girl's face crumple—Danni felt something twist inside her. Hot. Wet. Delicious.

"Nice dress," Danni heard herself say, popping her gum. "Did you get it at... whatever store poor people go to?"

Where did that come from?

Megan ran off crying. And Danni's pussy throbbed.

She followed Megan into the bathroom. Found her sobbing at the mirror.

"Why are you being so mean?" Megan wailed.

Danni leaned in, lips brushing Megan's ear. "Because I can, sweetie."

She went home and masturbated four times that night.

Loop 30

Danni had started planning her cruelty.

Megan wasn't enough. Too easy—too pathetic to really satisfy. So Danni moved on to bigger game.

Brittnee's boyfriend, Chase, had a thing for blonde hair and big tits. Danni had noticed it on loop twelve—the way his eyes lingered on her cleavage, the way he'd find excuses to be near her. Brittnee had noticed too. She was pissed.

On loop thirty, Danni did something about it.

She cornered Chase in Brittnee's bedroom during her own birthday party. Pushed him against the wall. Pressed her body against his.

"You've been staring at my tits all night, Chase," she whispered, rubbing her palm over his growing bulge. "Don't you want to touch them?"

"Danni, Brittnee's right downstairs—"

"So?" She pulled her top down, freeing her tits. They were perfect—round, heavy, pink nipples already hard. "She doesn't have to know."

Chase broke. He grabbed her tits like a starving man, sucking and biting her nipples while Danni moaned and stroked his cock through his jeans.

She rode him on Brittnee's bed. Slowly at first, then faster, grinding her clit against him, watching his face twist with pleasure she was giving him. His hands gripped her perfect ass as she bounced on his cock.

"Tell me I'm better than Brittnee," she demanded.

"Fuck—you're so much better—"

"Louder."

"YOU'RE BETTER THAN BRITTNEE—"

The door opened.

"Danni?! What the—CHASE?!"

Brittnee stood in the doorway, mascara already running. Danni just looked over her shoulder, Chase's cock still buried inside her, and smirked.

"He wanted a real woman, Britt. Sorry not sorry."

Brittnee fled sobbing. Chase kept fucking her.

Danni came so hard she saw God.

Loop 50

Something was happening to Dan.

Not physically—Danni's body was the same perfect specimen it had always been. But mentally... the old Dan was fading.

She couldn't remember his last name anymore. Something with an M? Miller? Mitchell? Gone. She couldn't remember what forty felt like. The back pain, the hair loss—like stories someone had told her once.

What she could remember, vividly, was every way to make a man hard. Every way to destroy a girl's self-esteem. Every position that made her cum the hardest.

She'd fucked Brad. Marco the caterer. Tyler, her "ex" who always showed up hoping to win her back. On loop forty-four, all three at once—Brad in her pussy, Marco in her ass, Tyler in her mouth. She'd cum until she couldn't walk.

She'd learned to deepthroat. To ride. To take it up the ass and beg for more.

She'd learned she loved it.

Lexi appeared that night, floating above the bed as Danni lay satisfied, three loads of cum dripping out of her.

"Having fun, bestie?" Lexi grinned.

Danni—sprawled across the sheets, naked, glowing—just smiled. "The best."

"You're, like, so different from that sad old man who made the wish." Lexi popped her gum. "It's, like, totally an improvement."

Danni frowned. "What sad old man?"

Lexi's smile widened. "Nothing, sweetie. Nothing."

Loop 75

Dan was gone.

Not hidden. Not suppressed. Gone. Like a dream you can't quite remember after waking. There was only Danni now—rich, hot, spoiled, perfect.

Her birthday was the best day of the year—every year—and she knew exactly how to make it perfect.

Step one: Wake up in silk. Let the maid bring champagne, then send it back. "This is Moët, Maria. I told you I only drink Dom Pérignon on my birthday." Watch Maria scramble. Power.

Step two: The salon. Get everything done—hair, nails, the works. Let the stylists fawn over her. She was their best client. She tipped well but never let them forget who was in charge.

Step three: Shopping. Her parents' black card was hers. Buy everything. The looks on the other girls' faces when she walked out with bags they couldn't afford—chef's kiss.

Step four: The party. Make Megan cry. Make Brittnee jealous. Fuck whoever she wanted—sometimes two somebodies. Destroy at least one relationship just for fun.

Step five: End the night in her huge bed, exhausted and satisfied, already excited to do it again.

She didn't question it anymore. She didn't want to question it.

Loop 100

Danni woke up on her hundredth birthday and everything clicked.

She stretched—arms above her head, back arching, tits pushing up perfectly. Every cell in her body hummed with power and beauty and pure, unfiltered bitch energy.

Maria came in with champagne. Dom Pérignon this time—Maria had learned.

"Happy birthday, Miss Danni!"

Danni took the glass without looking at her. "Mmhm. The salon team better be here in forty-five minutes. And tell them I want the full treatment—my hair needs to be perfect tonight."

She sipped her champagne.

Pink smoke curled in the corner. Lexi materialized, floating cross-legged, grinning.

"Happy 100th birthday, bestie! 💖"

Danni didn't flinch. "Hey, Lexi."

"O-M-G, you're, like, so different now?" Lexi circled her, examining. "Remember when you were, like, 'waah, you turned me into a girl'? And now look at you!"

Danni smirked. "I look hot."

"You look perfect." Lexi landed on the bed, tucking her legs under her. "So. I have, like, news?"

"News?"

"You've, like, graduated? You've mastered being a 21-year-old mean girl? So I'm, like, upgrading your gift?" Lexi snapped her fingers. "Instead of living the same day forever... you get to live the same year forever! 🎉"

Danni's eyes widened. "A whole year?"

"A whole year of birthdays and shopping and fucking and ruining!" Lexi clapped her hands. "You can, like, really destroy people now! Not just one day—seasons of destruction!"

Danni felt a pulse of pure pleasure between her legs. A whole year. A whole year of power.

She slid her hand under the sheets and touched herself—fingers sliding through her slick folds, circling her clit—thinking about all the lives she was going to destroy. All the boys she was going to ride. All the girls she was going to break.

"Mmmmmh... fuck yes..."

Lexi watched, delighted. "You're, like, my greatest creation, Danni. I'm so proud of you."

Danni laughed—high, cruel, delighted—and came on her own fingers.

She brought them to her lips and sucked them clean.

This is going to be the best year ever.

She was right.

[soul-controller]

My ideal body would be bigger, stronger and more mature. You know, the perfect things a daddy has.

The food court was abuzz with life, as families chatted over greasy trays of fast food and teenagers laughed too loudly in between loudly filming content for their social media. Meanwhile, you’re sitting alone at one of the tables – absentmindedly picking through a tray of half-eaten fries as your mind wanders and gaze drifts across the crowd. 

And then, you see him.

He stands in line at one of the busy vendors, a mountain of a man with a body thick with muscle, broad shoulders and biceps on full display due to his revealing tank top. His stubbled jaw is strong, giving him a rugged, mature look despite the hair not having a single hint of grey. Immediately, you could feel how his presence instantly commanded attention.

You swallow hard, your thoughts betraying you before you can reel them in. God, I wish I looked like that. If you had his confidence, his build, his effortless magnetism…dating would be a cakewalk compared to how it was now. No more awkward conversations, no more feeling invisible. Men would want you the way you want. You couldn’t imagine how many guys would easily fall under a man like that’s spell and submit to anything he desired…

The thought barely finishes before something strange happens.

The man suddenly stopped as he went up to give his order to the cashier. Mid-step, mid-action, as if a switch inside him was suddenly flipped. His head tilted slightly, like he’d heard something no one else could. Then, without warning, he turns. His dark eyes lock onto yours with a weight that leaves you trembling.

Your pulse stutters.

You look away, heat creeping up your neck. Shit, did he catch me staring? You brace for some kind of reaction – a glare, a sneer, maybe even some choice words about keeping your eyes off other men. But none of that happens.

Instead, he moves. He heads out of the line, walking through the crowded tables in the center of the food court… heading straight for you.

Your heart pounds harder with every step he takes. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t glance around, doesn’t slow. In seconds, he’s there, standing before you, so close that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne.

He stands there for a moment, as if waiting for you to make the first move. You don’t know what else to do besides stand up and offer up your table as a peace offering of some kind.

But just as you get up on your feet and prepare to speak, his large mitt of a hand suddenly reaches out for you. Instantly, you cower and prepare for some sort of aggression from the man. To your shock though, you feel his hand reach around the back of your skull, with his fingers threading through your messy light brown hair. 

Before you can react, before you can even think, he pulls you in. His lips crash against yours, warm and demanding, stealing the breath straight from your lungs.

The world around you blurs. There’s only the heat of his body, the pressure of his mouth, and the sheer intensity of the kiss on your mind. It’s possessive and sensual, almost as if he’s wanted this just as much as you have.

His kiss deepens, growing hungrier, more forceful. His lips move against yours with raw intensity, his stubble scratching at your skin as he tilts his head, taking you even deeper into it. You barely have time to breathe, barely have the space to think of anything but the feeling of him and his dominance.

Still unsure if you should touch himself yourself, your fingers curl into a fist as his grip around your head grows firmer. His stubble scrapes along your cheeks and upper lip, a sharp friction that burns in the best way. You chalk it up to the roughness of his face, a delicious sort of rug burn that only makes you more aware of him. But you don’t notice how the irritation doesn’t fade. How a faint, trimmed stubble of your own begins to emerge in response, spreading across your jawline as if mirroring his.

Then his teeth catch your bottom lip. 

Caught off-guard, you initially expect just a sharp nip from the man. As such, your body shivers as this action is then followed by a firm tug.

Pleasure twists through you, edged with just a hint of pain, but you don’t pull away. You lean in, chasing the heat of his mouth, even as he repeats the action several times across both lips. The area tingles beneath his touch, a light sting settling in followed by a strange sort of numbness. As you focus on the pleasurable yet shocking nature of what you’re experiencing, you don’t realize how your body continues to change. Your lips swell, with each kiss and bite reshaping them into something fuller, plumper, and certainly more kissable.

His fingers rake wildly through your hair, gripping and tugging as if he can’t get enough of you. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, your scalp prickling as the strands darken, deepening in color until they’re as jet black as the faint stubble shadowing your jaw.

Then his hands begin to roam.

Large, rough palms press against your arms, gliding down over your biceps. His touch is firm and greedy, as if your body was unclaimed land he wanted to claim for him and himself only. While he does this, the softness in your arms melts away, leaving behind lean defined muscle in his wake. The shift spreads through your chest, tightening and sculpting the area by replacing any hint of flab with toned strength.

He moves lower, hands gripping against your sides as his body leaned forward to press into your waist and hips. A strange weightlessness washes over you, your body subtly adjusting to its new weaker yet toned form. You don’t notice at first though, too lost in the way his mouth and tongue keeps invading yours. But when he suddenly leans down to reach you, angling his body in a way he hadn’t needed to before, something feels…different.

Somehow, you’re shorter now.

Not by much, but enough that the shift was noticeable – if you weren’t so intoxicated by the sight and affection of him.

Then he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark, smoldering, filled with something unreadable yet immensely magnetic. Your heart pounds against your ribs as your breath remains unsteady. It felt weird to think about, but you couldn’t help but feel as though your entire body was thrumming with some sort of strange, electric energy.

His fingers trail along your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly. His voice, deep and commanding, sends a shiver through your newly sculpted frame.

“Come with me.”

There’s no hesitation. No second thought.

Your body moves before your mind catches up, heart hammering, antsy and eager to do as he says.

You don’t think. You just follow.

Your legs move on instinct as the bulky man pulls you away from the food court. The world blurs around you – the people, voices, and mundane background of the mall all fading into irrelevance. There’s only him. The warmth of his touch as his thick fingers curl around your own. The quiet confidence in his stride as he pulls you through the corridor toward the men’s restroom and cuts off the father and son who were on the verge of entering the area first.

The moment you step inside, the door slams shut behind you – with him using your body to block anyone else from coming in. 

A rush of air leaves your lungs as your back meets the hard surface. His hands press firmly against the door on either side of you, caging you in. His eyes burn into yours, dark and intense, filled with something raw and undeniable.

“You didn’t think I’d catch you staring, huh?” he murmurs, voice rich and deep. A smirk tugs at the edge of his lips. “Luckily for you, you’re just what Daddy needs right now.”

The words send a shiver through you. A mix of anticipation and something else – pure elation. You’d never thought your days of people-watching and fantasizing would lead to something like this happening. It felt like something straight out of some sort of fanfic or movie!

You barely have time to explore those thoughts though as then, with a low grunt, his strong hands grab the collar of your shirt. You barely have time to react before the fabric gives way with a sharp, tearing sound. Your gasp turns into a startled moan as the cool air of the restroom washes over your pale exposed skin.

“Damn…” He exhales, raking his gaze over you, eyes drinking in every inch. “You’re so fucking hot. And so small. So weak… especially next to me.”

Something stirs in your gut at his words. Although this entire experience was hot as hell to you, there was a flutter of uncertainty.

In hopes of finding answers, you glance down at yourself.

The sight that greets you is…wrong.

Decent pecs. Toned abs. Not bulky, but clearly maintained. It doesn’t make sense. For a second, your mind struggles, an echo of something distant telling you this isn’t how you should look. But then, you decide to consult with your memories for answers. To your relief, you find several familiar ones.

Of course, you look like this. You go to the gym a few times a week, don’t you? Just enough to stay toned, to keep yourself fit, but never to bulk up too much. You loved nothing more than being a twunk – it was exactly what your favorite type of gay men, daddies, were looking for.

As a result, that unease you felt instantly fades, replaced by something closer to relief. Everything makes sense, there’s nothing strange going on at all.

Then his hands are on you again.

Thick fingers trail down your sides, gripping your waist before sliding lower. He grabs a handful of your ass, massaging, kneading, and then squeezing hard.

A sharp gasp leaves you. The pressure is intense, but so is the feeling. A strange sensation, like something swelling beneath his touch. As you awkwardly shift your legs as you feel your shorts growing tighter, your back is slowly being pushed away from the door as your ass fills out. With each second that this hot daddy enjoys playing with your ass, it continues to inflate into a perfect, perky shape. When you went to the gym, this was where the priority of your time was devoted – on developing the perfect ass that could satisfy any man with just how bouncy yet firm it was. You could recall countless encounters with men in the sauna – where they gleefully smacked your ass and grew mesmerized by the way the flesh rippled before sliding their cock in to fill you up with that potent dad nut.

Yet while you took a moment to embrace the changes occurring to you, the other man’s influence didn’t stop there.

Heat pulses through your groin, as your rock-hard, larger than average dick strained against its increasingly tighter confines. To your relief, one of the other man’s hands soon began to investigate the area, struggling for a moment before finally slipping his fingers down beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

An airy moan escaped your plump lips as the pain of your shorts stretching was traded out with relief from the man’s fingers touching the head of your manhood. As you tilted your head back and groaned in pleasure, you found that the man’s touch was making you all forget about the discomfort. Beneath the surface of the shorts though, the pressure was easing not from the man’s touch but from the way your bulge was shrinking and compacting yet remaining rock hard. In an instant, the man’s touch had converted your surprisingly girthly 7” cock to a measly pencil-thin 3.5” nub. To your euphoric mind though, the shift felt completely natural. After all, you were notoriously known as one of the biggest bottoms in the entire state. What good was a fat cock for when you wanted nothing more than to be on the receiving end?

As your body was reaching new levels of pleasure, your legs found themselves tingling and growing incredibly weak. With this strange weightlessness overtaking them, you relied on the other man to keep you upright as he pushed his body closer to you so your legs could grow leaner and provide a steady base to handle such a fat ass. Once again, another burst of shrinking occurred as your legs shortened and caused your stature to shrink down to an adorable 5”6”. By now, the change was undeniable. Besides your face, you were an entirely new person.

Your breath stutters, head swimming. You feel off, but at the same time whole. Like you’re falling into the right shape, the right body and life.

Then his lips graze your ear.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, voice thick with hunger. “The love of my life. I’ve never enjoyed topping anyone as much as I do you.”

A shiver races down your spine, but not from fear. From something deeper. Something familiar.

Then, your body found itself shivering out of control as the man’s gruff voice began speaking Spanish.

You don’t know the words. Or at least—you shouldn’t. You never took Spanish in school and you’ve never experienced the culture besides the occasional song recommendation on Spotify. Yet, the more he speaks, the more you understand.

You pieced together him discussing how unreal this all feels. How he couldn’t believe this was happening. How you’re not resisting at all. And then, softer, more reverent—

“How can you be so perfect? So beautiful? Just like a dream come to life…”

The fully comprehended words sink into you. Into your skin, your bones.

Instantly, a warmth spreads over your body – a golden hue that works with haste in deepening your complexion. You turned to face away from the man for a moment, finding yourself catching a hint of your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You moaned as you found your skin growing darker and richer. 

As your daddy, your partner for the past five years, hoisted up your arms and pinned them against his with his immense strength, you looked down and witnessed how your body hair thickened slightly while darkening to match your jet-black hair. Another rippling effect soon coursed through your body – causing any body hair along your chest, back, and legs to fade away until you were left completely smooth besides your armpits and crotch.

With one final glance, you looked into the mirror – gasping as you found that the face in the mirror had also slightly changed since the last time you saw yourself. Your nose had widened a bit and grown more prominent on your face, while your eyebrows grown thicker yet well-maintained and groomed. Your eye shape had altered a little, but the most noticeable change in that area was how your hazel eyes had darkened to an alluring dark brown.

Without a doubt, the new visage that you saw was one that was undeniably Latino. Although one last vestige of your old self suddenly spoke up in hopes of not wanting to completely lose yourself, it didn’t take much completely for you to give in. Everything that had happened to you, it just felt… right. 

The last pieces of your past self slip away, forgotten beneath the weight of the new body and life.

As you looked towards your man, your thoughts grew cluttered as you lusted for the feeling of his cock in your ass once more. Although your history and memories still felt a bit cloudy, there was luckily one thing you knew for sure at this moment. You belonged to him.

Ever since you met him at your gym one day and eagerly worshipped his ripe pits after a particularly grueling workout, you became his favorite amongst the large slew of boys across the country he had previously accumulated. There was no one else who was better for him than you, almost as if you were personally created just for him… just Daddy’s perfect boytoy to flaunt on his OnlyFans and showcase just how much of a dominant alpha he could be. 

On some nights, you’d have strange dreams where you imagined yourself with the roles reversed where you were the dominant aggressive type. But as soon as you’d wake up and see your hunky daddy loudly snoring next to you, you knew that was just a strange fantasy. 

You wouldn’t want it any other way...

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[bugbear-emporium]

You hovered your thumb over the "Submit Changes to Queue" button in the app you had downloaded yesterday. A friend you  hooked up with sometimes sent you an invite with instructions on how to join the closed beta for 'Chronivac Reality Editor'. Though it was a hassle to get on your phone, your friend claimed the app was unlike anything he had ever seen before. After your first two changes, you had to agree.

The app limited you to one use daily, and you had first tested it by giving yourself a bigger dick. This morning, you decided to give yourself an actually full beard, not the scraggly mess you'd tried to grow since highschool. No one at work seemed to notice the change, and you looked back at pictures of yourself from the last year to see that they too had changed and now showed you with your new facial hair.

For your third time using the app, you decided to go big. You saw the 'possesion' feature this morning and knew you had to try it out next. The app gave you a list of suggested candidates, and when you saw the name 'Jonah Hayes', you immediately knew who you would be choosing. He was your parent's next door neighbor since and ever since you knew you were into men, you had found him incredibly hot. You heard from your mom that he had gotten a divorce a couple years ago, and that his youngest kid had just gone off to college. Possessing him for a day or two wasn't going to hurt anyone, you reasoned, especially not on a Saturday, so you tapped his name from the list.

The next screen was more complicated than the first two times you had used the app. You filled out each option, confirming the recommended option to start the possession when you woke up and end it once you had fallen asleep. Then, you hit the 'Submit Changes to Queue' button. A warning notification popped up, as it had the last two times you had used the Chronivac.

"The Chronivac is still in beta and unexpected results may occur. If you encounter any issues during use, contact Pérez Alternative Technology support desk for assistance. Would you like to continue?"

That notification had given you pause the first time you saw it, but now, you just tapped the "Yes" option as soon as it appeared. After, what was the worst that could happen?

*****

You began to come to consciousness, feeling strangely warm. You became aware of the sensation of flesh on flesh contact, surrounding your whole body. You felt a pressure in your core as a wave passed through your body. You felt fabric shifting around in front of you as the world shuddered. Something was very wrong. It was dark, but faint light diffused through something above you. That fabric. Was it a blanket?

Suddenly, something large moved beside you, it's limbs rubbing up against your side. Claws scrapped at your legs, though it didn't hurt. It seemed to only be scratching at you. You heard a deep and loud groan come from far behind you, causing you to jump. Or try to jump. It felt more like bolting up in slow motion. You tried to get up, to flee from whatever was next to you or the monster behind, but you found you were stuck in place. Suddenly, you found another emotion course through you, mixing with and overpowering the fear. Extreme and primal arousal.

*****

Jonah Hayes started to wake up. He was alone in bed again. It had been months since he'd last had a girlfriend, and he wasn't exactly putting himself out there to get laid like he did before he started dating his ex-wife. As he scratched his crotch and yawned, his dick flared to life with an erection unlike anything he'd felt in years. He chuckled a bit at his dick straining in his boxers. He didn't have a habit of masturbating in the morning, but it was a Saturday, so why the hell not? He slipped off the covers and underwear, and wrapped his hand around his cock.

****

There was a rush of movement as the fabric covering you was quickly removed. Whatever you were stuck fast to thrashed around before settling down, and you saw that there was much more light now. You were in a room, a pretty large room, though distances seemed a bit strange. Two large, fuzzy pillars raised up on either side of you. You were overwhelmed by how full you suddenly felt as something large and warm wrapped around your entire body. As you turned back to look at what grabbed you, you saw an enormous, yet familiar face smiling at you across a massive hairy chest and a small hill of a belly. It was the face of Jonah Hayes. As his large hand began to squeeze and rub you up and down, you realized what was happening. You were the cock of the hot neighbor you grew up next to.

He began to moan as you spiralled. What the fuck was going on? Oh, fuck, that felt so good! Did you pick the wrong option on that app? God, he was hot! Was this a bug with the app? Holy fuck!

****

Jonah liked to jerk off every once and a while, but something about this morning felt different. It was intense, like his internal wiring got a jumpstart. He tried to think about hot women, those he'd hooked up with, actresses he liked, and one lady in a porno he'd watched a while ago. None of it really felt right, despite the pleasure he was getting from working his hog. He kept thinking back to work, mostly his coworker and friend Marty. How thick he was, his nice beard and smile, his crass yet cheerful disposition. His round, hairy ass.

Jonah shook his head. Where'd that thought come from? He'd never thought about another man like that. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opened a private tab, and searched up a video he often came back to. As it started, he kept lingering on the man in the video, not the woman he'd jerked off to many times. The man was hairy and thick, though not exactly muscular. The kind of man obviously cast to shift focus to the woman, though Jonah couldn't help but wonder what that man would look like on Jonah's bed, under him.

At that thought, Jonah stopped touching his penis. What was going through his brain? He wasn't gay! He didn't want to fuck other dudes! He got up out of bed, boner still raging, and went to take a cold shower.

****

You were so fucking close! Jonah stopped touching you just as you felt that you were going to explode. You had been seeing flashes of thought, images of thick hairy men. Thoughts of someone you seemed to know, or maybe Jonah seemed to know?

As you were lifted up, seeing the path to the restroom at half height, you were still so needy. Despite everything being so wrong, it had felt so good when the man you were attached to was touching you all over your cock body. 'Keep going!' you tried to yell. Though no sound left your metaphorical mouth, you felt yourself pulse as your slowly drooping body straightened back up again. As the cold water of the shower began pouring onto you, you tried to think about the other man you saw flashes of moments ago. That nice hairy belly that showed when he reached up to grab something. The thought of what kissing that furry mustache might feel like.

****

Jonah's erection wasn't going down in the cold shower. He started to worry that he might need to go to the hospital when the thought of his coworker Marty flooded back into his brain. God, he just wanted to grab hold of his friend and stick his cock deep into those round cheeks of his! Jonah couldn't help himself as he turned the water warmer and pumped his dick. He moaned as he thought of some of the other hairy men he knew, like his highschool coach and the plumber that visited last week. Before long, he got on one knee as he was beginning to shake in the shower. He felt muscles spasm as an intesnse orgasm rocked his world.

****

You were screaming in pleasure as the built up pressure exploded out of you. You could taste the torrent of salty cum as Jonah fondled your lower half. Satisfaction welled up in you as you felt yourself slowly fall into a bit of a torpor. You deflated a bit, though you still maintained a respectable size as you flopped around while Jonah got back on his feet and finished his shower. As the man who owned the dick you were inhabitanting, stopped the water and  started to get ready for the day, he looked down at you with an amused smile.

"Damn, buddy! What was all that about?" He said down to you, towel over his shoulders as you got a mouthwatering view of his hairy torso.

****

Later that day, Jonah downloaded a gay hookup app. He knew they existed, but he'd never thought to look into it until the second time he came that morning. You felt yourself perk up as Jonah discovered Marty's picture on the app's grid of nearby men. He paused before your prodding led him to open up the chat feature. He typed out a quick message to his friend.

"Hey Marty, it's Jonah. You're not gonna believe this."

****

Sunday night, you were thrust in and out of a chubby closeted bisexual road worker named Marty. Jonah and Marty were both grunting and moaning as the bearish work buddies went from fucking to making love. As you came into Marty's hairy ass, Jonah collapsed onto his shorter friend's fuzzy belly. Marty had taken you like a champ, and smiled as he looked down at the friend he'd always wanted to sleep with, but that he was sure was 100% straight.

"Hey, Jonah! What are we gonna tell the boys at work?" Marty said, "Think they'll be jealous both of us got laid this weekend?"

****

Months went by, and you stayed Jonah's cock. You found yourself increasingly pleased to be used by the hot hairy man who owned you as more and more of your human mind faded. Your conscienceness just became a horny presence in Jonah's body as you subtly encouraged him to suck and fuck men in all shades of beefy, hairy, fat, and kinky. You especially liked when Marty, who Jonah started dating after a couple months fooling around, put you in his mouth and tickled you with his beard. You felt safe and supported as you rode around in Jonah's underwear as he worked hot, sweaty days.

The only time you felt somewhat human was when Jonah dreamed. You never slept yourself, though your mind wasn't all that active unless Jonah was also horny. You would often find yourself as various men in Jonah's dreams, either getting fucked by him or fucking other hairy men in the background. You'd even fucked Jonah a couple times in his dreams, though it was clear the man preferred to top. Other than those rare moments of being something more, you soon forgot you were anything other than Jonah's cock.

****

"Oh shit! Mr. Enzo, I just found another beta user who has been missing for months."

"God damnit, I knew it was too soon! I should have closed the beta sooner. Can we get them back, Jamie?"

"I don't know. Reality is so unstable around them. That's why it took so long for me to notice they were gone. Luckily, they don't seem to be in any distress, though the user's brainwaves seem much weaker than usual."

"Alright, see what you can do, you smart, handsome boy! I have a meeting I need to get to, but I'll try to help when I get back. Love you, boy. Be back soon!"

The older Hispanic man leaned in and gave the worried cub a peck on the cheek before turning to leave the room.

[ultram0th]

December 25: Antoine Vaillant

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Bodybuilder Antoine Vaillant’s phone lit up with a text: Merry Christmas! 

Antoine fidgeted relentlessly at his desk, hissing under his breath as he typed up an email that he needed to send to a sponsor. His impressive gym-built biceps would jostle against the obscenely large pectorals that were attached his muscular chest every so often as he struggled to type on his keyboard, making the top-heavy hunk shudder. His trimmed beard did little to cover up the blush that was taking over his face. Speaking of which, the prickles from his jaw scrapping up against the tops of the hairy muscle mounds sent sparks of pleasure throughout him even more, rendering him nearly incapable of typing a single sentence. The dark hairs that covered his pecs only intensified the hypersensitivity, and the sensation of his button-down rubbing up against his hard, nubby nipples should have been enough to have him blow a load in his pants on the spot.

However, despite the near overwhelming pleasure the older bodybuilder was feeling at his desk, his rock hard seven inches refused to give him any release. Instead it throbbed as it was placed tightly against his muscled thighs.

The bodybuilder frowned as he looked in the mirror that was in his office. He took great care of himself and his body. As a professional bodybuilder, Antoine knew the ins and outs of the gym, and it clearly showed. At 6’0’’ and approximately 250 pounds of meaty muscle, he was a beast of a man. Plus, during his offseason, he’d allow all of that bulging muscle to be covered in manly hair. He’d loved to saunter around, clad in tight pants and form-fitting button-downs that allowed him to display his alpha status. He completely ruled the gym and the little office he’d worked in to take care of his social media accounts. Everyone knew that he was stud— a total man’s man.

However, instead of the alpha male he was used to seeing, Antoine hated the image reflected back at him. He still retained his hard-earned muscles and his handsome looks, but all of that took a backseat to the enormous pecs he possessed thanks to a certain Christmas wish.

The bodybuilder looked as if he were smuggling two basketballs underneath his shirt that was several times larger than his usual ones, but was still strained to bursting. He’d been unable to button up the top three buttons, allowing the deep hairy top cleavage of his muscletits to be on full display. His erect, nubby nipples poked against the fabric, looking like a pair of thumbs. His pecs were so huge that they ballooned outwards at the sides as well, completely engulfing his thick neck and making it appear as if his head was resting directly atop the muscle mounds. His giant pectorals completely ruined his manly and proportional physique, causing him to come off as some freakshow who has beachball-sized pec implants.

But even more embarrassing for the stud was how sensitive they now were. It felt as if all of his body’s erogenous zones had traveled throughout Antoine’s body to center in solely on his pecs, with the epicenters being his nubby nipples. Sensations as simple as his shirt rubbing up the hairy mounds felt as good as masturbation, and Antoine’s cock always rocketed to life whenever his massive arms accidentally brushed up against his muscletits (which was often).

But that wasn’t the worst part…

“Mr. Vaillant?” a light voice called as Erik, a college intern helping to manage his socials, poked his youthful face into the bodybuilder’s office. “Your sponsor wanted me to remind you that you need to make a post of the new protein powder.”

Ever since what had happened, Antoine couldn’t help but admire some of the other men in the gym. He hated how jittery he’d get whenever he’d see another man’s pecs (which were obviously much smaller than his) pressing against their shirt or when he’d spot the large bulge in a guy’s pants. 

As he looked at Erik, he couldn’t help but admire the green tint to the young man’s eyes or how full his lips looked. The guy must’ve been an athlete in school, because his trimmed frame had some toned muscles that were still pretty sizable, albeit nowhere near as huge as the champion bodybuilder’s.

Antoine’s blush deepened when he saw the twenty-one year old guy’s green eyes try their best to avoid his huge pecs. “Tell them I’ll do it tomorrow,” he grunted, waving the skinny guy away with a buff arm. “And it’s 1930. Go home.”

Erik nodded, not-so-subtilely taking one last look at the older man’s muscletits before turning around. “Yes, Sir,” he said. “Have a nice weekend.” He left and closed the door behind him.

Antoine just huffed and slammed himself away from his desk, desperate for release. As he walked to the parking garage, Antoine tried to ignore the sight of his reflection in the car windows that showed his altered posture that had to account for the heavy muscle mounds. He walked with his back arched with shoved his pecs out into the open, as if advertising them for more to stare at. Even worse was that there was a slight bounce to them with every step the stud took, making his nipples rub up his shirt over and over again, his knees going weak.

The muscle hunk hopped in his truck and barely had time to close the door behind him before his frantic fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, desperate to give his sensitive chest some much-needed relief. Antoine practically tore his shirt away from his hairy torso, his inflated pecs heaving as he sighed deep breaths of relief, his larger nipples still burning with desperate want.

“This is getting real fuckin’ old,” Antoine groaned aloud as he struggled to catch his breath, his hard cock twitching wildly in his pants. Despite how irritated he was, he was also so incredibly horny, his sensitive pecs sometimes clouding over his frustration.

The top-heavy DILF took a moment to adjust his seat in his truck, having a little difficulty with his inflated pecs pressing against the horn on the steering wheel a few times. Antoine still wasn’t used to driving with his arms fighting to reach the wheel with his enlarged chest constantly getting in the way. He would have figured that after a few days, he’d be semi-accustomed to it, but he still gasped and whimpered loudly whenever his biceps would graze a nubby nipple whenever he turned the wheel. The rumbling from the powerful engine sent rippling vibrations throughout the truck, constantly making his pecs jiggle the slightest bit, which was shockingly enough to send little darts of pleasure throughout the stud. He had began to unwisely drive without his seatbelt, risking the ticket because whenever he wore it, the strap slipped deep into his cleavage and made him howl like a slut.

Doing his best to ignore the feeling his hypersensitive pecs brought him, Antoine drove straight home. Every so often when he’d be at a red light, the stud would grope his massive chest for a while, moaning loudly like a slut as he played with his tits. He’d be so caught up in the euphoric sensations that emanated from his sensitive muscletits, that he’d only be knocked out of it whenever the car behind him would honk because the light had turned green.

The embarrassed stud sped the rest of the way home, practically sprinting inside once he arrived.

Inside, Antoine barely fared any better. His massive pecs kept jiggling with every movement he made, and they kept getting in the way as he tried to cook himself dinner. No matter what he did, Antoine was helpless to do anything besides stimulate his sensitive chest, which led to him ceasing all of his nightly chores in order to just feel himself up.

As he gripped handfuls of his tits and gave them a squeeze, Antoine couldn’t hold back the low moans that bellowed out of his muscled frame. His face was bright red with humiliation, but the embarrassment he felt paled in comparison to the intense surges of pleasure that his muscletits brought him. His nipples were almost worse— every time he brushed up against them, his knees buckled and his cock throbbed even harder.

As he played with his chest, Antoine couldn’t help but think back to how this had all started. He’d been asked by some random Santa Claus out on the street what he’d wanted for Christmas. The bodybuilder had playfully replied with, “A big set of tits.”

Then the rest was history. 

The morning after the interaction, Antoine had been horrified to wake up and discover that his pecs had magically been inflated to nearly four times their normal size.

Antoine’s masturbation session was interrupted when he heard a knock at the door, making the top-heavy bodybuilder groan with annoyance. “What?” he barked out impatiently, his nubby nipples burning with want as soon as he let go out of his muscletits.

“Mr. Vaillant! It’s me, Erik!” the small voice of his tiny assistant called out from the other side of the front door. “You forgot to take the product home with you for your posts!”

Antoine sighed but opened up the door nonetheless. Like clockwork, as soon as he stared at the younger stud in his doorway, he could feel his cock twitch a little more and his nipples continued to burn with want.

Erik, in turn, couldn’t help but not-so-subtly stare at his boss’s inflated chest, the bulge in the front of his khakis starting to harden. His cock lengthened down his leg and he hungrily licked his lips at the sight of Antoine’s huge, hairy muscletits that were out in the open.

Despite having his warped pecs out for the younger guy to gawk at, Antoine couldn’t deny the surge of lust that he felt. “Fuck it,” he grunted as he grabbed Erik’s hand and yanked him inside. 

Antoine dropped to his knees and fished Erik’s uncut seven inch cock out of his pants. The bodybuilder leaned forward and thrusted his inflated chest out more, sliding his assistant’s cock deep into the cleavage of his pecs.

“OOhhhhh!” Antoine moaned loudly as a slut as the younger man pecfucked him. The bodybuilder grabbed the back of Erik’s toned butt and kept him in place as he thrusted himself up against his cock, driving it deeper into his pec cleavage. 

Nothing he’d ever done compared to the intense sensations that Antoine was feeling from his chest now. No sex he’d ever had with a woman nor playing with his own pecs was even close to the same. Sure he was embarrassed over his actions and over having his perfect musculature warped into a top-heavy caricature, but Antoine couldn’t bring himself to truly mind in the moment.

If walking around with ultra-sensitive muscletits that were way too big and cumbersome for his bodybuilder physique meant that he could get pecfucked by cute guys, then he was game.

His moans grew into pleasured cries as Erik reached down and began to thumb the bodybuilder’s nubby nipples.

Erik tensed up and came, blowing his load all over Antoine’s heavy tits, coating them in his spunk. Antoine’s forgotten cock had already blown its own load and was already hard and ready for a second round.

“Holy shit,” Erik panted as he leaned down and gave one of Antoine’s big muscletits a playful squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Antoine.”

Antoine shuddered at the feeling of his chest being squeezed, and all he could do was respond with a bellowing moan.