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POV: You snapped a screengrab of your Final Fantasy XIV character before heading to bed. He was everything you felt like you weren't - handsome, brave, popular, well-dressed. As you logged out of the game and scooted into your cozy bed you wondered what it would be like to live in that fantasy land...if even only for a day.
Well, maybe you had a fairy godmother, or maybe the universe just felt like being a prankster because the next morning you woke up as an exact human replica of your character...piercing blue eyes, manga-style hair and a six-pack to boot.
Upon further inspection one thing was missing that wasn't coded into the game - maybe this wouldn't be so great after all...
*in commemoration of FanFest in Anaheim this weekend.
A new beginning
Michael had always been the star of the university gymnastics team, a 6'2" tower of lean muscle at 200 pounds, every inch honed from years of flips, vaults, and routines that demanded perfection. His body was a canvas of smooth, hairless skin, shaved meticulously from his broad shoulders to his powerful calves, because a gymnast's form thrived on clean, uninterrupted lines. Wavy dark hair, a jaw sharp enough to cut glass, and size 11 feet toughened by countless landings on thin mats. Graduation had been electric: the roar of the crowd as he crossed the stage, high-fives from teammates, and a quick, heated hookup in the shadows of the parking garage with his girlfriend, the captain of the cheerleaders. Her hands roamed his hairless back as he drove his 8-inch cock, thick and veined, unyielding girth, into her, leaving them both spent and grinning under the stadium lights as they started talking about their future and what their perfectly lined life would soon be. As evening settled over the emptying campus, Michael shouldered open the door to the familiar dorm room, his cap and gown draped over a sweat-dampened white shirt that hugged his defined chest.
So freaking hot 🤤
"Hey, I've been working on something big and I should be able to refine it before selling it. Want to see what it does? It rewrites the world on a personal level, bodies, perceptions, memories. Pulled from public data, simulations. Tested it small-scale first.”
"What is about this “app”? You stupid? You think something like that is real? Grow up, we are not in Startreak!! Urghhhh... the fuck was that…"
“I have to say, for a test on a human subject, it worked exactly like I had planned, even better! You're looking good, Michael. Or should I say… Charlie?”
"Alex… What have you done?!”
--------------------------------------------------------
Thank you so much @axeeglitter for such a unique and amazing idea! You guys can check out the full-length story version on his blog.
It is such an honor for me to discussing the plot, creating images, and now make this alternate video version with you. I had a blast! 😁
John worked hard to maintain his jock status in his 30s… that was until he took a look in the Twunkification mirror. Now Johnny would forever be just another aged twink bottom with a dorky mustache and a tiny pecker in his little pink briefs.
The Manliest Man 2: Game over
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Bonus | Last Game |
Epilogue – After the Game
The board game was tucked away now.
No more glowing dice. No more mysterious cards. Just four men — forever changed — building lives shaped by the roles they’d been given… and the desires they’d discovered.
Zack – The Plumber
Zack grunted as he twisted the last pipe into place under a bathroom sink.
His thick arms bulged under the short sleeves of his navy work shirt, and the waistband of his pants tugged low as he bent over — his infamous plumber crack making a proud appearance as always.
“All done, ma’am,” he said with a friendly smile, brushing his hands clean on a rag.
He no longer carried the swagger of a quarterback — but what he had now was deeper. He was dependable. Obedient. Content.
After work, he came home to a small house near the edge of town.
Waiting for him at the door was Ty, puffing a cigar in his cop uniform, arms crossed, belly proud, gun on his hip.
“You're late,” Ty growled, mock-serious.
Zack lowered his eyes playfully and mumbled,
“Sorry, sir.”
They kissed, deeply.
They lived together now. In love. Proud. Complete.
Ty – The Cop
Ty had become a force in the community. Known for his deep voice, dominant presence, and no-nonsense attitude, he patrolled the streets with confidence — and filled out his black uniform like a brick wall.
At home, he was the one in control.
He loved Zack fully — not despite his submissiveness, but because of it. Their balance was perfect. He protected. Zack obeyed. And they both thrived.
Logan – The Swimmer
Logan stood on the starting block, speedo tight on his lean, twinky frame.
The crowd cheered. His coach shouted instructions. But all Logan focused on was the feel of the water ahead of him — cool, clean, inviting.
He dove in with perfect form, slicing through the pool with grace and precision.
He was light, fast, and beautiful in motion. He’d never imagined being this version of himself — but he loved it now.
And in the stands, watching with pride, was his boyfriend:
Alex – The Wrestler
Alex wore a blue and white college singlet, thighs thick as tree trunks, arms crossed as he sat in the bleachers. After his own match earlier in the day, he’d rushed to Logan’s swim meet to support him.
They were different in every way — Alex, huge and powerful; Logan, slim and seductive — but they balanced each other. Their love was playful, confident, and deep.
And when Logan climbed out of the pool, water dripping down his twinkish frame, Alex pulled him in for a public kiss, unapologetic and proud.
Reunion – Back at the House
From time to time, the four of them met up — usually at Zack and Ty’s house.
They shared meals. Told stories. Laughed. Loved.
And sometimes — on quiet nights — they’d sit around the same coffee table where the game once sat. But now, it held simple things:
A deck of cards. A board game box with cartoon dice. Snacks. Drinks.
“No magic this time,” Alex joked as he rolled the dice.
“Damn shame,” Ty said with a smirk, stretching an arm around Zack’s shoulder.
Zack chuckled and leaned into him.
“I think we’ve had enough magic for a lifetime,” Logan said, smiling softly at Alex.
They all laughed.
The game had ended.
But what it gave them?
That was forever.
The End. (Or… until the next group finds the game.) 🎲
The Manliest Man 2: Final Turn
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Game over |
Chapter 14 – The Final Roll
Zack stood at the board, heart pounding.
Ty's words echoed in his ears.
“Roll. Now.”
Zack rolled.
Red space.
A small card flipped up with a hiss.
“Your pride shrinks. Your manhood too. What’s left is only what you truly are.”
Zack barely had time to react before the sensation hit him.
It was different this time — not a burst of growth or strength. But a reduction. A surrender. His dick shrank, slowly, steadily, until it felt laughably small. Like a forgotten toy compared to the muscular form he now wore.
But… he didn’t care.
He felt no shame. No protest. Just the heavy, thick weight of his ass, the sting of submission in his gut, and the deep heat of wanting something else more than size. More than pride.
“Good boy,” Ty said, watching him from across the board.
Zack didn’t even flinch at the words. They felt right.
Ty stepped up and rolled. His token slid forward and landed squarely on the final stop space.
The board lit up in a deep blue pulse.
Game complete.
The words made Ty balls throbbed, and his cigar flared like a badge of power. He let out a satisfied grunt, flexing his belly with pride as the lights faded.
Zack, still standing there, looked around — he was the only one left.
The board buzzed once more.
“Final Player. Loser.”
Zack’s eyes widened.
The board spat out a final red card. As it hit the table, the words burned in bold script:
“Permanent Marking: Bottom Bitch.”
His pants tugged down just enough to expose both of his cheeks, and right there — wrapping around each — ink bloomed into view.
Two curved tattoos framing his ass. One side read:
“Use Me.” The other: “Fill Me.”
Zack shuddered.
His body trembled with need. The hunger, the submission, the aching want… it was all too much now.
He turned.
Ty stood there. Watching. Dominant. Ready.
“Game’s over,” Zack whispered, voice weak.
Ty stepped forward, unbuckling his belt.
“Now,” he said, voice deep and slow. “Now we claim our prize.”
Zack dropped to his knees.
Later that night, the board sat quietly on the coffee table, no longer glowing. The game was over.
From behind a closed door, the rhythmic thud of a bedframe, muffled moans, and the occasional barked command echoed down the hall.
“Deeper.” “Yes, sir.” “You take it like you were made for it.”
Ty’s voice was unmistakable. So was Zack’s.
Whatever they once were — quarterback, cop, best friends — had melted away.
Now, they were exactly who the game had made them.
| Game over |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 13 Game winner
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Final Turn |
Chapter 13 – The End Is In Sight
The game had changed them. That much was obvious.
The transformations weren’t just cosmetic anymore. The line between who they were and who they were becoming had blurred completely. And yet, none of them could stop. Not even Zack.
Especially not Zack.
He rolled the dice with trembling fingers.
Green space.
“Your hunger grows. You crave more. Not just food… but to be filled.”
Zack staggered slightly as the sensation hit him. His stomach growled with sudden, ravenous hunger — but it wasn’t just for food.
He grabbed the side of the table to steady himself as a second kind of hunger crept in… a deep, aching desire low in his gut. The pressure, the heat, the need — it was overwhelming.
“Ughh... what is happening to me...?” he muttered, his voice cracking.
His hands drifted toward his hips instinctively. The weight of his thick plumber butt pushed outward like an invitation, and he bit his lip — confused, aroused, and horrified all at once.
Ty leaned on the table beside him, puffing his cigar.
“Looks like your appetite's finally caught up with you,” he said in that deep, rumbling voice.
Zack looked away quickly, cheeks flushing.
Ty rolled next. Blue space.
“You swell with power. Your manhood surges with energy, ready to burst.”
Ty flinched as the pressure hit low. He grunted, stepping back as his balls grew heavier, rounder, tight with raw sexual energy. He adjusted his belt instinctively, his belly pressing out with pride, his cop uniform straining at the seams.
“Damn,” he muttered with a grin, “Guess it’s true what they say about authority.”
Even his presence felt heavier now — like the room bent toward him. Zack’s breath caught in his throat.
Logan’s turn. He took a deep breath and rolled.
His token moved to the final space.
It happen so fast.
A silence settled over the room.
A small golden card floated up into the air and hovered in front of him.
“Winner. You may remove one transformation.”
He stared at it for a moment, then slowly said, “I think… I want to keep everything.”
There was a beat of quiet surprise.
“Except this,” Logan added, reaching behind to rub the tattoo on his back. “I never really liked the idea of being marked.”
With a soft shimmer, the tattoo faded away — leaving his twinkish swimmer body intact. Lean. Soft. All his.
Alex looked at him with a warm, heated gaze.
“Good call,” he said, stepping forward.
Alex roll his die following right behind Logan on the final space he had come in second but Alex thought he had truly won the game anyway.
Before anyone could react, Alex scooped Logan up into his arms — one massive, wrestler-thick arm under Logan’s knees, the other across his back.
“Wait—what are you doing?” Logan gasped, flushing red.
Alex grinned.
“What I’ve wanted to do since your body started shrinking.”
He carried him off without another word. Logan didn't protest. If anything, he clung tighter.
The bedroom door clicked shut.
Zack blinked, still stunned.
“Did that just happen?” he asked, voice shaking.
“Let the kids have their fun,” Ty said calmly, stepping closer to him. “You and me… we’ve still got a game to finish.”
Zack turned, caught in that deep voice again — in the smell of the cigar, the broad belly, the black uniform, the glint in Ty’s eyes.
“I—uh…” Zack stammered.
“Roll,” Ty commanded. “Now.”
Zack obeyed instantly, breath quickening as he picked up the dice and rolled.
The clatter echoed.
The board buzzed.
Only one turn left.
The end was near.
| Final Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 12
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 12 – Flesh and Form
The game no longer felt like a game.
The four of them stood quietly around the board now, fully dressed in their magically conjured uniforms — a plumber, a cop, a swimmer, and a wrestler. Each outfit clung perfectly to their changing frames, tailored to evolving bodies they hadn’t chosen… but were slowly starting to accept.
Or, in some cases, enjoy.
Zack reached for the dice with hesitation. He was sweating — though whether it was from nerves or something else, even he couldn’t say.
The dice tumbled across the board and landed.
Red space.
“You’ve grown where it matters. Your backside’s a gift — show it off.”
“Oh no,” Zack mumbled. “Not again.”
He didn’t feel it at first. Then — a creeping pressure. His work pants began to tighten, the seams pulling taut. His hips widened. His glutes pushed out. His ass swelled, round and full, practically bubbling out of the crack in his uniform.
“Shit—” he grunted, tugging at his belt.
It was no use. His body wasn’t shrinking back.
The plumber crack that had already been exposed was now unavoidable. The weight of his new rear pulled his pants slightly lower, giving everyone a full view.
Ty let out a low whistle.
“Looks like someone’s ready for service calls,” he said with a slow smirk, puffing his cigar.
Zack turned red. He tried to adjust his belt again, but the extra mass only jiggled slightly in response.
“This is so messed up,” he muttered, but he didn’t step away from the board.
Ty rolled next — green space.
“Your voice carries weight. You’re the one they listen to now.”
He blinked. And then—
“Huh,” he said. The word came out deeper. Way deeper.
Everyone looked at him.
“That’s… new,” Ty rumbled, his voice now low, commanding, almost cinematic in its depth.
The cigar in his mouth felt more fitting now, like a badge of authority. His chest rose with a prideful breath, and his belly stretched his cop uniform even further. He gave Zack a long look, exhaling smoke slowly.
“You got a problem with that, boy?” he asked, casually — but with dominance.
Zack gulped and shook his head quickly, looking down.
Ty smirked again.
“Didn’t think so.”
Logan stepped forward.
Red space.
“Trim down. Reveal more. You’re meant to be looked at.”
“Wait, no, not again—” Logan started.
But it was too late. His body began to compress. His muscles shrank — not entirely, but enough to be noticeable. His arms slimmed, his waist tightened, and the faint curve of a belly he’d once had was now a smooth, toned abdomen. He was still athletic… but now twinkish, lean, and aesthetically soft.
His face softened as well — youthful, boyish. Even pretty.
He looked down at himself in disbelief. The speedo clung even tighter now, hugging his frame like it belonged to someone smaller. Someone more delicate.
“What’s happening to me…” he whispered.
But when he looked up, Alex was staring at him.
Not judgmental. Not mocking. Just… watching. Slowly.
And Logan felt it again — that twist in his chest. The one he didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said weakly, trying to sound annoyed.
Alex tilted his head and smirked.
Alex rolled with confidence. Blue space.
“Your voice becomes your weapon. Assert it.”
His lips parted, and the sound that came out made Logan’s knees go a little soft.
“You’ve been staring all day,” Alex said with a new deep, gravelly voice, rough and cocky. “You like what you see?”
Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the blush gave him away.
Alex took a slow step forward, his singlet shifting over his broad chest — nipples still hard beneath the fabric from earlier.
“Don’t worry,” Alex added, “I like being looked at.”
Zack stood near the wall now, his now bigger round plumber’s ass pushing out behind him like a shelf, clearly flustered but unable to stop glancing at Ty.
Ty stood like a wall of dominance, cigar smoke curling, voice now a low rumble of control, eyes locked on Zack like he already owned him.
Logan shuffled in his smaller frame, flushed, twink-like and lean, feeling increasingly exposed under Alex’s watchful gaze.
And Alex? He had found his confidence. He was massive, cocky, and aware of the effect he had on Logan — and was starting to enjoy it.
The board glowed, satisfied.
The transformation was no longer just physical.
It was relational. Sexual. Power-based.
And none of them were ready for what came next.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 11
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 11 – Red Desires & Roles Reversed
The room was quieter now.
Not tense — just... loaded. The transformations had stopped being funny or random a long time ago. Now, every roll felt intimate. Personal. Dangerous.
Zack swallowed, wiping sweat from his brow as he stepped up to the board.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, tossing the dice.
They clattered and landed on red.
The card launched out with a crisp snap.
“You find yourself drawn to power. You’re no longer in control… and that turns you on.”
Zack blinked, confused.
“What the hell kind of card is that?”
But before anyone could speak, the heat hit him. It wasn’t physical — not at first. It was internal. Like a slow, rising flush that started at his chest and moved downward. His pulse quickened. His legs felt weaker. His eyes darted around the room and— They landed on Ty.
The cop uniform. The thick arms. The cocky posture. The cigar slowly smoldering in his mouth.
Zack’s eyes lingered way too long.
His heart skipped.
“No. Nope. Nope—”
He turned away, face hot. But then he looked back. Again. And again.
His thoughts were racing, confused, but his body was already submitting. His spine straightened. His breathing deepened. He rubbed his thighs together without realizing it.
“No way… this game’s not— I’m not—”
Ty just smiled.
He stepped up to the board and rolled.
Red space.
His card popped up like it already knew what was coming.
“You know your role now. You're the one in charge. Confident. Dominant. Desired.”
Ty didn’t flinch.
He read the card once, then slowly turned toward Zack.
“Huh. Makes sense,” he said, voice lower, thicker. Confident.
Zack felt it instantly.
Ty’s presence filled the room. He stood a little taller. Let his belly rest proudly against the edge of his belt. Puffing his cigar with purpose now, he locked eyes with Zack and gave a slight smirk.
“Took you long enough to figure out who you really are.”
Zack opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His legs suddenly felt like jelly.
Ty stepped closer.
Just close enough.
“You good there, plumber boy?”
Zack’s breath hitched.
He nodded, just barely.
Logan cleared his throat — loud enough to break the moment — and rolled, his face pink.
Green space.
His card floated out calmly.
“Mark yourself — a permanent reminder of who you're becoming.”
Before he could react, a warm tingle lit up on his upper back.
He twisted, trying to look behind him. There, in the mirror reflection, a small tattoo shimmered into place: a pair of stylized swimmer’s wings in deep green ink, spread across his shoulder blades.
“What the hell…?” he muttered, touching it.
It didn’t hurt. It actually felt… kind of cool.
He glanced over at Alex — saw how the singlet wrapped tightly around his chest. How his thighs flexed with every step. And suddenly, Logan felt smaller again. Younger. Less.
And very aware of it.
Alex was already moving forward, expression unreadable.
He rolled. Red space.
The card glowed slightly before he even read it.
“A new zone awakens. Nerves fire. Pleasure sharpens.”
“Huh,” Alex said softly.
He looked down at his chest.
His nipples had hardened, visibly pressing against the inside of his tight singlet.
His eyes widened slightly as he felt an unexpected jolt of pleasure from even the faintest brush of fabric.
“What the…?”
He reached up and pressed one side with his palm — slowly — testing. His breath hitched. A grin tugged at the edge of his lips.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
His voice was lower. More confident. There was something almost teasing in his expression now.
Logan stared — face red.
Alex noticed. And winked.
Zack, still stunned, looked around the room.
Ty standing tall, dominant, clearly in control of him. Logan squirming in his speedo, glancing at Alex like he was afraid to speak. Alex… flexing slowly, his singlet rising and falling with every deep breath, chest more prominent than ever.
Zack swallowed again.
“What is happening to us…?”
The board didn’t answer.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 10
Chapter 10 – Uniforms of Fate
The game board shimmered before them — glowing slightly, almost humming. They will all happen to land on the final,
Stop Space.
Zack was the first to stop space.
His football pants and jersey vanished off his body in a shimmer of golden energy. In their place: a full navy-blue plumber's jumpsuit. It fit tightly around his bulkier frame — especially his chest and arms, where his new muscle had thickened — but what drew everyone's attention was the back.
“Oh, come on,” Zack groaned.
There was a cutout on the backside, right above his butt. His new plumber’s crack peeked out, completely exposed. No amount of pulling or adjusting helped. It just rode lower every time he tried.
A heavy leather utility belt with wrenches and pliers clanked around his waist, like he'd been on-call for years.
“You look like you’re about to crawl under a sink on national TV,” Ty chuckled.
“Shut up,” Zack muttered, blushing. “This isn’t funny.”
The next turn Ty landed on the stop space.
His gear melted away into black fabric — reforming into a full-on police patrol uniform: buttoned-up black shirt, cargo pants tucked into heavy boots, and a bulging gun holster with a badge gleaming on his chest.
The shirt was tight — barely containing his growing belly and broad chest. His arms looked massive, the sleeves fighting to stay closed over his thick biceps. His gut pushed out proudly over the belt, a real cop's power belly.
As if to complete the look, a fresh cigar appeared in his hand. He lit it like he’d been doing it every shift for years.
“Damn. I look good,” he said, admiring himself in the reflection of the TV screen.
“You look like you’ve written a few too many parking tickets,” Zack muttered.
“Yeah, and you look like you unclog drains with your ass crack.”
They both stared each other down — but Ty just blew a cloud of smoke and grinned.
The next to hit the stop space was Logan.
The change hit fast.
One second he was in football gear — the next, he was standing in nothing but a skin-tight blue and white speedo, school colors unmistakable. His lean swimmer’s body glistened with a faint sheen, as if he’d just stepped out of a pool. His chest was smooth, his abs fully exposed, and his arms rested easily at his sides.
A small team logo shimmered on the hip of the speedo — and he didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he stretched his arms up like he was about to dive off the blocks.
“Okay… this is weirdly comfortable,” he said, flexing slightly. “I feel faster just wearing this.”
Zack’s mouth opened to respond but stopped — eyes flicking briefly to Logan’s smooth waist and then to the confident gleam in his eye.
But Logan’s gaze wasn’t on Zack. It was on—
Alex was the last to land on the stop space.
His old clothes shimmered, peeled away, and were replaced by a blue and white wrestling singlet, hugging every inch of his thickened, powerful body. His chest pressed forward beneath the straps, and his broad shoulders stretched the material almost to tearing. His thighs looked carved from stone.
He looked… massive.
And confident.
The singlet sported a subtle school crest on the chest, and his white briefs peeked just slightly around his waist beneath the edges.
He caught Logan staring.
And stepped forward.
“Looks like I’m official now,” Alex said, grinning. “Ready to take on the whole damn division.”
Logan tried to reply, but his voice caught in his throat.
“Y-yeah. You… you look the part.”
Alex stood a little closer than necessary — not quite touching, but just near enough that Logan’s eyes drifted again, involuntarily, down and up.
Logan blushed. Again.
Four players. Four roles. Four uniforms.
The changes weren’t theoretical anymore — they were literal. Each of them had been dressed by the game, sealed into their new selves.
Zack: Bald, bearded, and humiliated in a plumber’s jumpsuit with his ass crack showing.
Ty: Thick and smug, chest puffed in his black cop uniform and a cigar hanging from his lips.
Logan: Toned and flushed, trapped in a swimmer’s body and mind, wrestling with feelings he didn’t understand.
Alex: Broad, bulky, and proud — standing tall in his singlet, no longer the kid brother, but a man in full.
The room fell silent for a beat.
Then the board pulsed again — lights dimming slightly.
The game wasn’t over.
Not yet.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 9
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 9 – Identity, Attraction, and Unraveling Control
Zack stared down at the board, jaw tight. No one had said it aloud, but something had shifted since the last round. The game wasn’t just changing their bodies — it was reshaping who they were.
Still, he rolled.
The dice bounced lazily onto a red space. Before he could brace for it, the card launched out.
“Time to say goodbye to the old look. You’re going bald… but gaining a beard.”
Zack barely had time to blink. A strange tingling sensation surged over his scalp. He reached up just as his thick, sweaty post-practice hair vanished — gone in an instant. His hand slid over a smooth, shiny dome.
“No. No way—”
And then came the beard.
It didn’t grow in slowly. It sprouted, full and thick, like it had been there for years. Deep brown and masculine, it wrapped around his jaw, his cheeks, his chin — coarse and unmistakably working man.
He rushed to the hallway mirror.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
He looked older now — not gray, but mature. His face had deepened, features hardened. Combined with his plumber’s build and white briefs, he didn’t look like the team’s quarterback anymore.
He looked like a contractor. A thirty-year-old man.
He sighed. “This game is seriously messed up.”
Ty rolled next — cool as ever. Green space.
The card popped out without warning.
“You light up a cigar and grow a classic cop ‘stache. Enjoy the power.”
Ty blinked. “Wait, wha—”
A fat cigar appeared in his hand. And he lit it. Instinctively.
Puff. Puff.
The thick smoke curled around him, and as it did, dark hairs began growing over his upper lip, forming a thick, commanding mustache.
He didn’t seem surprised.
He leaned back, one arm resting on his belly — now solid from donuts — and let the cigar dangle from the corner of his mouth like he’d been smoking for years.
“Might as well enjoy the perks,” he muttered, smirking.
Zack just stared.
“You look like you’re about to lecture a teenager for loitering in front of a 7-Eleven.”
“Damn right I do,” Ty said, grinning. “Keep it up, and I’ll write you up.”
Logan stepped up next, keeping quiet. He was still riding a strange wave of self-consciousness from the last turn. He rolled. Red space.
The card hissed out.
“Your desires shift. What once seemed clear is now confusing.”
He read it twice. Then again.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
But even as he said it, something in him tilted.
He glanced across the room. At Alex.
Alex was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his massive chest pushing through his stretched T-shirt, those thick thighs straining his shorts, his bulge outlined under his white briefs.
Logan swallowed.
“Weird…” he whispered.
His eyes lingered.
Too long.
He shook his head.
“It’s not like I’m… I mean, he’s just bulked up a lot, that’s all. That’s it.”
But he couldn’t stop looking.
He didn’t want to look away.
Alex reminded him of his old self. Strong. Grounded. Alpha.
But better.
Logan flushed and turned away.
“Dumb card. Whatever.”
Alex walked up to the board, face calm. He rolled.
Blue space.
Card out.
“You’re filling out even more. Let’s just say… everything’s growing in nicely.”
He felt the change instantly — a warm pulse in his groin. His briefs stretched forward. Not dramatically — but noticeably. And he could feel the eyes.
Especially Logan’s.
He turned slowly, locking eyes with him.
“You okay, Logan?” he asked, voice low.
Logan froze.
“What? Yeah. Fine. Just… you look different, that’s all.”
“You’ve been staring since I rolled.”
Alex stepped a little closer.
His eyes scanned Logan — noting the tension, the way he bit his lower lip, the awkward stiffness in his posture.
“You sure you’re good?” Alex pressed again, a smirk teasing at the edge of his mouth.
Logan flushed red and looked away.
“Totally. Yeah. Just playing the game.”
Zack watched it all, eyes wide.
His younger brother — getting massive, confident, and... openly flirting with Logan?
Logan — the team's old powerhouse — now looking bashful, attracted, confused?
Ty — puffing a cigar like he ran the department?
And him?
A balding plumber with a service smile and sagging pants.
“What the hell is happening to us…” he muttered.
But the board didn’t answer.
It just waited.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 8
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 8 – Age, Appetite, and Awakenings
The board sat silently… almost like it was waiting for them. The last round had left the group different — not just in body, but in mindset. None of them said it aloud, but the game was getting to them. Still, they kept playing.
Zack rolled first.
The dice bounced with a dull clack, landing him on another red space. Before he could even react, the card popped out like clockwork.
“You’re getting older. Welcome to your thirties.”
Zack frowned.
“Huh. Great.”
He scratched his jaw, which felt stiffer than it had seconds ago. A subtle weight pulled at his face — not in a sagging way, but in a weathered way. His cheekbones seemed more defined, his jaw stronger, and his brow carried a faint crease it hadn’t before. He walked to the hallway mirror and squinted.
“Do I look… older?”
There were no gray hairs — his thick dark hair remained untouched — but there was something undeniably grown about him now. The kind of face you’d trust to fix a busted water heater or unclog your mainline. He even stood differently: broader stance, shoulders more rounded forward, like a man who’d spent years hauling heavy tool bags.
“Damn,” he muttered. “I look like I’ve been doing this job for a decade.”
No one disagreed.
Ty stepped up next, spinning the dice lazily. The moment they stopped, another red space lit up — and a card burst from the board before he even reached for it.
“You’re feeling hungry for donuts.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Donuts? That’s it?”
Then — ding-dong.
They all turned. At the door sat a full pink box of a dozen hot, glazed donuts.
“Okay… what?”
Ty opened it, grabbed one, and took a casual bite.
“Might as well. Can’t play on an empty stomach.”
But with every bite, his stomach grew — subtly at first, then more clearly. His football jersey started riding up. His belt squeezed tighter. His midsection puffed forward into a solid belly that pressed firmly against his white briefs beneath the gear.
“Whoa. You’re, uh…” Logan gestured vaguely.
Ty slapped his new belly with pride.
“What? You got a problem?”
“No, I just—did you always have a gut like that?”
“Not until a few bites ago,” Ty smirked. “But hey, makes me look more like a real cop, right?”
Zack stared. “You don’t feel weird about it?”
“Nah. If anything, I feel more legit. I look like I mean business now.”
And somehow… he did. The belly didn’t soften him — it hardened his image. He stood taller, chest out, like a man who didn’t need to explain himself to anyone.
Logan rolled next. Blue space.
His card flicked out gently.
“You feel younger. You’re 20 again.”
The transformation wasn’t loud or dramatic — it was subtle. His face softened, jawline less harsh, his skin clearer. His whole frame seemed just a bit more compact — still lean, still athletic, but now with the energy of someone who hadn’t fully grown into their prime yet.
He touched his cheek, blinking.
“Do I look… younger to you guys?”
Zack nodded. “You kind of look like you did your freshman year.”
“Seriously?” Logan leaned in toward the mirror. “Shit… I look like I just hit 20.”
His six-pack was still tight, but now it looked boyish — less like a seasoned athlete and more like a promising swim recruit.
He crossed his arms over his abs and suddenly pulled his shirt down — not up like usual.
“Okay, now I feel weird,” he muttered.
But not everyone thought it was weird.
Alex was watching closely. Quietly.
“Alex, your turn,” Zack called.
Alex approached slowly, heart beating faster. The last few turns had made him feel like part of the group — maybe for the first time. But there was still a sliver of awkwardness.
He rolled.
Alex landed on a special space
“Hard Time Space,” Zack read aloud. “Oof, good luck.”
A card popped out.
Roll for Hard time the card said
“Guess you gotta roll to see who gets… something,” Ty muttered.
Alex leaned in and roll the dice again.
He roll a 4 for player 4.
Alex.
Alex blinked.
“Wait—what?”
He staggered back a little as he felt a tightening in his briefs. A rush of warmth. A pulse. His eyes widened slightly — not in embarrassment, but… something else.
“Is that—” Ty began.
“No way,” Zack cut in.
Alex stood tall. The bulge in his briefs was now unmistakable, pressing firmly against the waistband of his shorts.
But instead of retreating, he smiled.
A calm, confident smile.
“Guess I’m growing in all the right ways,” he said softly.
He didn’t try to hide it.
Didn’t cross his legs or cover himself with his hands.
He just stood there — owning it.
For the first time in his life, Alex didn’t feel like a shadow of his older brother.
He felt… powerful.
And the others? They weren’t laughing. They weren’t mocking.
They were just watching.
The room fell into a quiet tension. Age, weight, pride, strength — the game was carving each of them into something new. Not just bigger, or older, or bolder — but deeper versions of themselves.
And not one of them had asked to stop.
Not anymore.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 7
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 7 – The Mind Shift Begins
The board was glowing again.
Not just the normal pulsing light — this time it had a low, golden shimmer that crawled around the edge like firelight. Something felt different. Heavier.
Zack ignored the feeling and rolled the dice.
“Let’s see what else this thing wants from me…”
The dice bounced twice and landed clean on a red-colored STOP space. The moment it stopped, the board made a new sound — a kind of deep hum, and then… a strange card slid out, unlike any before.
Zack picked it up.
“Uh… this looks different…”
The moment the words left his mouth, his posture shifted.
Something clicked in his head — like a pipe snapping into place. Diagrams flashed in his mind: valve setups, pressure gauges, fittings, tool brands, waterline diagnostics. He blinked and staggered slightly.
“Whoa—”
Images and instructions raced through him like muscle memory being awakened.
“…Why do I suddenly know the PSI for an industrial back flow regulator?”
Ty raised an eyebrow.
“The what now?”
“It’s this thing that keeps contaminated water from—wait—why do I KNOW that?!”
Zack ran a hand through his hair, visibly rattled. He looked at the board, then back at the card. His voice came out softer. Polite.
“I… think I could fix a busted sink in under thirty minutes.”
“Bro, are you okay?” Logan asked.
“Yeah, I just… I kinda feel like I should be helping someone right now.”
Zack smiled weakly, then caught his reflection in the mirror.
His massive plumber’s build, wide back, round belly, and calloused hands made sense now — too much sense. For the first time, he didn’t feel like a quarterback anymore.
He felt like a plumber.
And the jock energy in him flickered, replaced by a ready-to-please workman vibe he didn’t fully understand.
Ty rolled next, looking suspiciously at the board.
The dice landed — same STOP space.
“No way. Again?”
Another strange card slid out — this one stamped with different strange symbol.
He pick it up.
Ty’s eyes widened as his back straightened, feet planting wide like he was on patrol.
Information hit him like a training montage in fast-forward: patrol routes, body cam laws, de-escalation procedures, search-and-seizure limits.
“Code 19. That’s disorderly conduct… Holy shit, I know everything.”
His voice had dropped into command mode — not yelling, just firm.
“You two,” he said, pointing at Zack and Logan, “stop loitering and stay within visual range.”
“What?!” Zack blinked.
Ty smirked, resting a hand on his hip like he had a holster.
“Just messing with you.” “...Mostly.”
Logan raised a brow.
“Dude. You’re acting like a cop already.”
“I am a cop,” Ty said proudly. “And if you punks step outta line—”
He winked.
But there was a new swagger to him now. Not chill Ty. Not jokester Ty.
This was patrol-cop Ty — and he was loving the authority.
Logan rolled next.
The dice slid across the board and stopped.
Yet same STOP space.
“Okay, this is getting creepy.”
His card emerged — metallic blue, marked with a strange symbol.
The second he touch it, Logan inhaled sharply — like his body suddenly knew how to breathe underwater.
He staggered, then stood tall, chest out, shoulders back, posture perfect.
He could feel it — the muscle memory of every stroke. Every drill. The sensation of slicing through water, the burn of underwater turns.
“Holy hell… I could win a state meet right now.”
He looked down at his abs and smiled — and then lifted his shirt.
“Okay, not gonna lie… this is actually kinda hot.”
Zack rolled his eyes.
“Dude, you’ve lifted that shirt five times today.”
“What?” Logan said innocently, still holding it up. “You don’t like the view?”
He smirked.
Zack looked away.
Ty raised an eyebrow.
Alex… didn’t blink. He was watching closely. Quietly.
Then it was Alex’s turn.
He rolled.
His token slid — and landed perfectly on a STOP space like the others.
His card emerged: dark red, marked with a stylized symbol.
The card vibrated through his chest. Suddenly, he knew how to grapple. How to pin. How to breathe during a match. How to drop a guy twice his size.
He adjusted his stance instinctively — lowering, steadying, widening his base.
“Whoa,” he said, blinking. “I… I know wrestling moves now.”
Ty nodded.
“Guess the game gave you a brain upgrade too.”
Alex smiled — but didn’t laugh.
“I feel like I could take you down,” he said quietly.
Zack snorted.
“In your dreams, Alex.”
Alex looked him straight in the eye.
“Try me.”
Zack shut up.
Even Logan took a step back.
There was something new in Alex now. Not just size. Not just muscle.
Confidence.
His voice had weight. His posture had power. And despite the calm exterior, he liked it.
He finally felt like one of them.
And when Logan stretched again — arms over his head, shirt rising high — Alex felt his heart flutter a little.
He quickly looked away.
The four of them stood around the board in silence.
New bodies.
And now… new minds.
Each becoming something new.
Each becoming who the board wanted.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 6
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 6 – Power Gains & Package Surprises
The board sat quietly, glowing just a little brighter now. None of them said it, but all four guys knew — the game was in control. Their bodies weren’t just reacting randomly anymore. It was shaping them. Guiding them. Bit by bit.
And it was Zack’s turn again.
“Alright,” he muttered, cracking his neck. “Let’s see if I finally get something good.”
He rolled.
The dice hit a blue space. The board pulsed once. Then it hit him.
Zack grunted as his shoulders flexed involuntarily. His jersey tightened — hard.
“Oh—damn!”
His arms were swelling. Biceps inflating, veins snaking down thick triceps. His pecs pushed outward, stretching the collar of his jersey, and his back broadened, pulling the fabric so tight across his shoulders it nearly tore. Even his traps thickened, stacking atop his neck like slabs of meat.
“Okay… okay,” he panted, flexing his arms. “Now we’re talking.”
He looked good. He knew it. For a moment, Zack even smiled.
But the second he glanced down — he saw it.
The new muscle sat on top of his belly.
Bigger chest… but also a thicker waistline. His plumber gut was still there — maybe even rounder. His powerful chest cast a shadow over it, making it feel even more obvious.
“Lookin’ huge, dude,” Ty said.
Zack forced a grin.
“Yeah… guess I’m getting there.”
But something in his eyes had shifted. Doubt, creeping in.
Ty rolled next.
Another blue space. The board flashed — and Ty blinked.
“Whoa…”
He shifted in place.
“Something… just feels heavier down there.”
All three of them stared as Ty reached down and adjusted his waistband — which now rode higher, pushed out by a noticeably larger bulge in the front of his briefs.
“No way…” Logan muttered.
“What the hell?” Zack said, eyebrows lifting.
Ty turned slowly toward the mirror and stared.
“...Damn,” he said, under his breath. “Okay, game. I see you.”
He turned back with a cocky smirk, standing a little taller, broader, more confident than he had all day.
“Guess I’m leading in more ways than one now.”
Zack rolled his eyes. Logan shook his head.
“Ridiculous,” Logan muttered.
But Ty didn’t seem to care anymore. His swagger was rising.
Logan stepped forward and rolled.
Another blue space.
The card slid out:
“You’re tightening up.”
He barely had time to react before a wave of heat spread across his core. He pulled his shirt up — and there it was:
A clean, hard six-pack — cut deep, lined with sweat. The abs of an Olympian. The V-line sharp. His waist tighter than ever.
“...Whoa.”
He flexed. It looked amazing. But something felt… off.
His arms weren’t as big as they’d been. His chest had flattened. His bulk was gone.
He looked like a machine — but not a tank.
“Well?” Ty asked.
“I look like I could win the 200m,” Logan said, forcing a smile.
But as he pulled his shirt back down, he rubbed his arm — realizing there was less there now. Less strength. Less mass. Just lean, tight form.
And he didn’t like it.
Alex rolled in silence, eyes on the board.
Another blue space.
As soon as the light flashed, his entire body swelled again.
His chest pushed forward. His arms bulged, veins surfacing under the skin. His shoulders ballooned wider. His thighs thickened, calves swelling to match. His T-shirt rode up and stretched tight across his chest and belly, revealing real bulk now — heavy, functional, powerful.
Even his neck looked thicker.
“Woah,” Logan said, taking a step back.
“He’s huge,” Ty muttered.
Alex turned to the mirror.
For the first time… he didn’t flinch.
He looked like them.
No — he looked better.
He flexed one arm, just to see.
A huge bicep swelled.
And he smiled.
“I… I actually look like I belong,” he said quietly.
Zack crossed his arms, frowning.
“Yeah. Congrats, bro.”
Alex didn’t hear the sarcasm. Or if he did, he ignored it.
His eyes flicked briefly to Logan.
Slimmer. Narrower. Cut.
And… hot.
Alex’s heart skipped a beat. He turned away quickly, cheeks burning.
“Just the game,” he muttered to himself.
But he didn’t really believe it.
The four tokens gleamed under the board’s glow — each one a little bigger than before.
The room was quiet again.
Heavier.
Their bodies were shifting. So were their places in the group.
And no one — not even Zack — could pretend otherwise anymore.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 5
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 5 – Shifts and Briefs
The room had gone quiet.
Not out of boredom — but because none of the guys could quite explain what was happening anymore.
Muscles had grown. Butts had ballooned. Pants had ripped. Chests had puffed up. Zack’s stomach had even started poking out a little. But somehow, each of them had managed to stay in some form of denial.
Until now.
Zack sighed and picked up the dice.
“Alright, come on. Give me a six-pack or something.”
He rolled — and the die clattered across the board before landing on a deep red space.
A mechanical click sounded. Zack’s token glowed, and a new card popped from the board.
He grabbed it and read aloud, eyes narrowing.
“You're putting on some weight. Hope those pants still fit.”
“…Wait, what?”
At first, he didn’t feel anything.
Then it started — a slow pressure against his jersey. A warmth expanding beneath his chest, lower, across his abs.
Zack looked down and swore.
His stomach was… pushing outward.
Not muscle.
Not solid.
Just soft.
A full-on, honest-to-god plumber belly.
His waistband dug into the new curve forming above his hips. He tugged at his shirt, trying to cover it, but it was no use — the gut was claiming its space.
“No, no, no,” he muttered. “This isn’t—this doesn’t make sense.”
“Zack…” Ty said, wide-eyed, “you’ve got a belly.”
“I KNOW!” he snapped, yanking at his jersey again. “It’s the pads. It’s—retaining water or something.”
But the way the belly bounced slightly when he shifted said otherwise.
Ty tried to hold back a laugh as he grabbed the dice.
“Alright, if I grow a belly too, I’m out.”
He rolled.
Another red space.
The board buzzed.
“You’ve matured.”
Ty blinked.
Then rubbed his face.
Something felt… heavier.
He stepped toward the mirror — and stopped.
His reflection was older.
Not old — but older. Like he’d fast-forwarded to his early 30s.
His jawline was sharper. There were faint creases at the corners of his eyes. His chest hair looked a bit darker, and there was a new depth to his voice when he muttered:
“Whoa. I look like my cousin Jamal…”
Zack stared at him.
“Why do you still look jacked?”
“Because I am,” Ty grinned, flexing. His thicker, matured biceps bulged out.
“You look like a rookie cop turned hot dad,” Logan added.
“Hey,” Ty winked. “Could be worse.”
Logan rolled next.
Another red space.
He didn’t even look at the card before he felt it.
“Oh no.”
His arms were shrinking.
Not disappearing — but his bulk was melting away. Shoulders flattening. Biceps tightening. Chest pulling in slightly.
In a matter of seconds, he went from powerhouse to lean athlete.
Still muscular. Still fit.
But not huge anymore.
“What the hell?!” he said, flexing both arms. “Where’d my size go?!”
His shirt hung looser now. He could see the clean cut of his obliques, the narrow swimmer waist forming.
“Damn,” Ty said. “You’re built like a torpedo now.”
“I didn’t want to be a torpedo!” Logan barked. “I liked being huge!”
Zack, still tugging at his tighter waistband, muttered:
“You think you have problems…”
Alex stood near the hallway, arms crossed.
Zack groaned.
“Okay, you. Roll already.”
Alex walked over and picked up the dice, less reluctant than before. He rolled and landed on a white space.
The board glowed — but something was different.
A card popped out.
But it wasn’t like the others.
It shimmered with a silver edge.
“Uh… what is this?” Alex said.
He read aloud:
“Next card affects everybody. take a new card.”
The room went silent.
“Wait—what?” Zack asked.
Alex blinked. “So… I draw again?”
Another card slid out beneath his hand. He picked it up, brow furrowed.
“You’re a briefs man now.”
Before anyone could respond, a strange tightening sensation hit all four of them at once.
Zack’s eyes widened.
“No. No no no no—”
He reached down — and felt his jockstrap was gone.
In its place: a pair of tight, white briefs.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Ty looked down and swore.
“My compression shorts just vanished. What the hell are these?!” he said, tugging at the waistband.
Logan twisted in place.
“I swear I was wearing a jock too—what the hell is going on?!”
Alex looked down at himself — his old boxers were gone.
Now, he was wearing the same white briefs as the others. And somehow… they didn’t feel bad. In fact, they fit kind of perfectly.
“This is insane,” Zack muttered. “I haven’t worn these since middle school.”
“We look like a goddamn ad for dad underwear,” Logan groaned.
“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Ty joked, slapping his thigh and posing.
But none of them could deny it — the briefs hugged them just right. Over bellies. Over glutes. Over quads. Whether slim or stocky, swimmer or cop, the game had forced them into a new uniform… one tight white waistband at a time.
The board pulsed again.
And they all felt it.
The changes weren’t stopping.
They were only getting deeper.
| Next Turn |
The Manliest Man 2: Turn 4
| Turn Start | Previous Turn | Next Turn |
Chapter 4 – It’s Starting to Show
The air in the room was starting to feel… different.
The game board glowed a little brighter now, as if feeding on their attention. Four tokens gleamed, pulsing like they were alive. There was no denying it anymore — the game was doing something. And it wasn’t slowing down.
Zack grabbed the dice, still trying to act like he was in control.
“Let’s go. I better not get another stupid hair card.”
He rolled.
The dice clattered across the board and landed on a deep red space. The token lit up and a card popped out with a familiar mechanical click.
“Your backside is growing. Your pants won’t fit quite right anymore.”
Zack raised an eyebrow.
“What the hell kind of card is that—?”
But then he felt it.
A weird warmth in his lower body. Pressure, spreading out across his hips. The waistband of his pants tugged tighter across his backside — and then started to slide. Slowly, unmistakably, the fabric shifted downward. He yanked his jersey lower, but too late — Ty was already snorting with laughter.
“Yo… dude.”
“Shut up,” Zack muttered.
“You’ve got full plumber crack, bro!” Ty cackled. “You gonna fix a sink or something?”
Zack scrambled to adjust his waistband, only for his thicker, rounder butt to keep pushing it down again. His pants just didn’t fit the same anymore.
“I think your plumber job’s catching up to you,” Logan added with a smirk.
“It’s just the padding from practice,” Zack snapped, but even he didn’t sound convinced. He adjusted again, tugging at his pants, his expression growing tense.
Ty took the dice next, still grinning.
“Alright, my turn. Let’s see if I grow a mustache or something.”
He rolled — blue space. The token slid. A card popped out.
“Your muscles are filling out. You’re stronger than ever.”
Almost instantly, Ty felt his jersey tighten across the chest. His sleeves creaked slightly as his biceps swelled — not ridiculously, but noticeably. His shoulders got broader, arms fuller, legs thicker. His body filled out fast, and he could feel the strength in every inch of him.
“Whoa…”
He flexed, watching the sleeves pull tighter.
“Okay… okay, this is kinda dope.”
Zack blinked.
“When did you get that jacked?”
“Like… now, apparently.” Ty laughed, giving a flex that made the fabric strain. “Guess I’m leading the scoreboard.”
Zack didn’t say anything, but he was clearly bothered.
Logan grabbed the dice next, looking curious now.
“Alright, let’s see if I finally sprout gills or something.”
The dice rolled — another blue space.
“Your glutes are growing stronger. Power comes from the hips.”
Logan raised a brow — but then his face twisted slightly.
“What the—?”
His lower body felt tight. Compressed. Like someone had just inflated both sides of his ass.
He stood up quickly, turning in place.
“Are you kidding me? What the hell is this?”
His football pants now clung to a massive, solid bubble butt that practically bounced with each step. It was round. It was heavy. It was impossible to ignore.
“Damn,” Ty muttered. “That’s a swimmer’s butt if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Bro, you got dumptruck upgrades,” Zack said, finally cracking a grin.
Logan groaned and flopped back onto the couch — slowly.
“It’s like sitting on two pillows. I don’t hate it. But still. What the hell is this game?”
Zack looked at the board. All eyes turned toward the hallway.
“Alex!” he called. “Let’s go — it’s your turn.”
They expected him to stomp in, all attitude like usual.
But when Alex stepped into the room, everyone froze.
He looked… different.
His posture was taller. Shoulders broader. Jaw more defined. There was a hint of muscle in his chest and arms now, subtle but definitely there. He looked like someone who could be on the team — not just the annoying little brother tagging along.
“Whoa,” Ty said. “Wait. When did you get older?”
Alex blinked, confused.
Then he caught his reflection in the mirror near the entryway. He stopped cold.
“What the—?”
He stepped forward slowly, touching his face. Looking at the thickness in his neck, the slight new edge in his arms.
“I’m… I look like I’m in college.”
Logan whistled.
“Guess the board decided to fast-track puberty.”
Zack didn’t laugh.
He was staring — jaw tight, eyes narrowed. For the first time, his younger brother was starting to look like… him.
Or worse — maybe better.
“Well,” Zack muttered, “you’re here. Might as well roll.”
Alex stayed silent for a beat. Then he nodded and stepped forward. He rolled the dice.
Blue space.
“You’re filling out fast. Muscle looks good on you.”
The glow surged. Alex flinched slightly — and then grunted.
He looked down as his shirt pulled tighter. His chest pushed forward. Arms rounded out. His shoulders bulged slightly as new mass spread across his body.
He flexed instinctively — and his eyes widened at the result.
“…Holy crap,” he whispered.
“Little bro’s getting stacked,” Ty said, impressed.
“Guess he’s finally becoming a man,” Logan teased.
Alex, still stunned, looked at himself in the mirror again.
And this time, he smiled.
“This… this is kinda awesome.”
Zack’s eyes narrowed even more.
“…Yeah. Awesome.”
| Next Turn |
