The Fate of Desire

Have you wanted a change? Every wish alters your fate: (18+; do not own these photos; this blog does not depict any photos or stories involving minors) male tf age swap muscle theft muscle growth body swap age regression age progression

[the-shiftshop]

Saw someone asking for a TF version of an erotic ‘Would You Rather’ game with their followers, so I decided to make one.

[the-shiftshop]

Saw someone asking for a TF version of an erotic ‘Would You Rather’ game with their followers, so I decided to make one.

[thefateofdesire]

Jake

“Fuck, it’s hot,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow.

My chest heaved up and down as I placed my hands on my hips, my entire body glistening with perspiration. 

Man, nothing like a morning run to get the blood pumping.

My morning runs had become one of my favorite parts of my day: Every day at 5:45 a.m, I’d roll out of bed and slip on my running shorts, lace up my shoes, and head out the front door. Living in a gated community with its own personal track field had its perks; I could run around, carefree, squeeze my cardio in, and I could finish it all before 6:30.

This summer, however, had been a scorcher. And I mean it. With the sun already up and blazin’ by 6 a.m., the temperature quickly climbed into the 90s by the time I’d be finishing up mile 3 of my 5 mile run. And boy, could I sweat up a storm. It’s why I always opted running shirtless because, I mean, what was the point, right? Plus, when you look this good, it’s a win-win situation for everyone. Especially for all the other gay men I’d encounter on my runs... I lost track of how many of them I had already hooked up with in the past, and, quite frankly, they were lucky to be hooking up with me.

I was hot. And that’s if I’m going to be modest about it: I was 6 foot 1, 210 pounds of lean, solid muscle. My chest was powerful, my legs were thick, my arms were chiseled in all the right areas, and my abs were ripped. If I wasn’t so caught up about running my fitness business, I could’ve easily been a fitness model. And, hell, I still got offered up a few gigs every now and then. As a matter of fact, if you check out Men’s Health next month, yours truly will be smacked right on the cover:

Jake Rivers.

Even my name has a ring to it, don’t you think?

“Man,” I said, catching my breath. “I could kill for a smoothie right now.”

And with that, I was jogging back to my house, a gorgeous two-story corner lot in the back of the community. It was, by far, valued the most at this point; I had revamped it several times, gave it a bit of the Jake flair... it was truly a beauty. 

Seeing the looks on some of my hook-ups faces as they stepped into my crib always got my dick twitching. I lived for that shit: and it made them ride my cock that much better.

I mean, I couldn’t blame them. They were riding the dick of one of most successful entrepreneurs under the age of 30 in the LA-area over the last year; my business, Rivers’ Fitness, exploded onto the scene seemingly overnight... I was one rich, gorgeous, and talented 27-year-old. I would fuck me too if I could.

Pulling my keys out from my pocket, I slipped them into my front door and turned the lock. Shutting the door behind me, I plopped my keys into the small china dish on my front door table and headed for the kitchen.

Gathering some yogurt and juice from the fridge, I also rounded up some bananas, strawberries and mangos and set them on the counter next to my Vitamix blender.

BUZZ.

Glancing over at my phone a few feet away on the counter, I saw a message from a number not saved on my phone.

Weird, I thought.

I didn’t remember setting up a hook-up with anyone, which had to be who was texting me. All the unsaved numbers on my phone were from my previous sexual encounters. Those who, at least, weren’t immediately ghosted and blocked.

Grabbing my phone, I unlocked it and read the message:

Hey neighbor neighbor! :) your number is almost the same as mine! Except my last two digits are 34 and you’re 35! So you’re my number neighbor just one digit above!

“Great,” I said, chuckling to myself. I had heard about this trend recently. A ton of people on social media were talking about: Strangers were texting people that had nearly identical phone numbers as them, except the final digit always differed by one, either above and below. And some of the interactions actually ended up being pretty entertaining. 

As for myself, however, I hadn’t thought anyone would actually text me, cause I certainly wasn’t going to text someone I didn’t know first, even if it was just in good fun.

But, now, having nothing else planned for this lazy Sunday, I guess it wouldn’t hurt. 

Shrugging, I replied back:

haha yeah I’ve heard about this number neighbor thing. how’s it going?

Returning my attention back to my post-workout snack, I grabbed a small knife from a drawer, as well as a small cutting board.

I was about finished cutting up everything when my phone buzzed again.

I’m good :) just chilling. You a guy or girl? And how old?

Scraping the fruit into the blender, I quickly scooped out a few ounces of yogurt and added a quick dose of OJ before placing the blender lid ontop of the machine. I hit the power button and replied back:

Nice, same here. Just finished up a run. I’m a guy, and I’m 27. 

I laughed to myself, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Shaking my head, I turned on the TV, letting the news play in the background as I powered off my smoothie and poured it into a tall glass.

I sprawled out onto my couch, kicking my shoes off, and placed my feet on the coffee table in front of me. I sighed, feeling the cold thick smoothie chill my chest. Damn, that was exactly what I needed.

I clicked through the channels, unable to settle on one show, until I finally gave up on some random movie that I wasn’t entirely sure with what was going on. 

It seemed to be some kind of sci-fi, coming-of-age flick. Something about some teenager that wasn’t really a kid but was actually a man that got trapped in a younger body after pissing off some wizard. 

Boring, but it would do for now.

BUZZ.

I grabbed my phone and read the message from my newly acquainted stranger.

Cool! I’m a guy too. I’m 20. The name’s Adam. What’s yours?

Well, at least this kid wasn’t some old man or some child. That would’ve been really awkward and weird.

I replied back:

that’s cool, man. I’m Jake. Nice to meet you. Any plans today?

Placing my glass into the sink, I headed to my bedroom, fishing out a clean pair of underwear and tank top that I would lounge in for the rest of the day.

I was just about to turn the shower on when Adam replied:

Nice to meet you too, Jake! :) I’m not too sure. I wanted to try out something my friend told me to look into. But, I’m not sure yet. Random, and forward, but are you gay? I am, so it’s all cool. Just don’t have many gay friends. Would you be interested?

I laughed a little under my breath, agreeing that Adam’s text came off as borderline desperate, but, hey, at least the kid had some balls for even asking, I guess.

Yeah, I’m gay, I started replying. And sure, dude. We can be friends.

I turned the faucet on, and slipped off my running shorts and boxer briefs, letting them pile up on the ground. I groaned, cracking my neck a couple times and stretching out my hamstrings. I was looking forward to the hot water relaxing my tired muscles.

BUZZ.

Damn, this kid sure was a fast texter.

Not bothered by standing nude in my bathroom, I read the message as I continued stretching out my legs.

Really? Thanks dude! Wanna send a pic? So we can see what each other looks like? You sound cute :) 

I rolled my eyes a bit, before opening the camera app. Hey, just because I was a little annoyed didn’t mean I could pass up on an opportunity to take a nice pic. Especially when I still had that post-workout glow going on.

Plus, I really had no plans today. So if I could sneak in a potential hook-up sesh, I was down. Adam having the same area code as me had me hopeful he at least still lived in the area.

I angled my phone a bit, making sure the picture captured my jaw in the best lighting, while also showing off my pecs. But, most importantly, to conceal most of the fact that I was totally naked. I flashed a quick smile, before taking the photo.

I smiled at myself, as I examined the photo. Damn, this cut was doing me good. I think I was down to nearly 10% body fat, and every muscle on my body was popping out in the best ways. I was feeling myself with how nice my beard looked. It wasn’t long enough to be considered anything intense, but definitely was a lot fuller than the light stubble I usually sported. I felt more distinguished with a beard of this length, and it made me feel more powerful and in charge. The last few guys I hooked up with even said I was on track for total daddy status, so, it definitely was working up the magic I wanted.

I typed out my message, attached the pic, and hit send:

Sorry for the lack of clothes haha. You caught me right as I was headed into the shower.

Stepping into the shower, I let the water flow over my aching muscles, particularly my legs. I lathered my body up, letting my cock bob up and down as it hardened slightly at the idea of seeing what Adam looked like. 

“Fuck,” I said, turning the water temperature up a bit further. “I really hope you’re cute, Adam... this,” I said, wrapping my hand around my thick 8-incher, “could definitely use a good fuck tonight...”

BUZZ.

Perfect. I smiled to myself and quickly cleaned myself, actually eager to see what Adam looked like.

Once I was finished showering, I wrapped my towel around my waist, not caring that I was letting water drip over my marble floor. I grabbed my phone and brought it up to my face to unlock it.

holy shit, you’re Jake Rivers. Dude, you got no idea how awesome I think you are. You totally inspire me to get fit like you one day...

I smiled, feeling myself tent under my towel. I got turned on whenever a fan drooled over me.

My smile, however, quickly faded as I continued to read Adam’s text.

... okay, dude, so I know you’re totally out of my league... so my selfie is definitely not going to be impressive.. so... I’m sorry about that but I hope you still wanna be friends...

Underneath that was a photo covered in Apple’s “invisible ink” feature... a feature that allowed you to send people photos covered in a shimmery layer that you had swipe away with your finger to see the picture underneath...

Adam sending his selfie in invisible ink definitely could not be a good sign for me...

I swiped the shimmery texture away and pursed my lips at what I saw.

Well... he definitely wasn’t ugly... just one thousand percent not my type at all...

Adam tried emulating the pose in my selfie almost completely down to where the picture cut off. 

Adam was a dweeb. Like a total dork. He had a pair of circle-framed glasses that made him look like a wannabe Harry Potter, or Clark Kent. His black hair was swiped over to the side in a very unkempt manner, that was not entirely covering a spattering area of zits near his hairline. 

He wasn’t skinny either, but also not fat. Average was definitely how you could describe him. 

He was wearing a white tank top that was nearly as pale as his skin color, and it wasn’t doing his soft tummy any justice. In fact, it hugged it a little too tightly that it made him look like he had a bigger gut than he probably had. 

Adam also was in the process of attempting to grow a beard, but it was splotchy and patchy in all the wrong areas. It made him look like a kid trying hard to look older but it only made him look ironically younger in the process.

And to top it all off, his teeth were a mess and covered in metal. 

In the background of his picture was also a giant poster of Batman... and a desk covered in about a dozen comic books...

Yeah... hooking up with this dude was looking slimmer by the second... 

BUZZ.

Jake? You there?

Shit, I forgot my read receipts were on.

Quickly thinking on my feet, I thought of a half-assed fake response before slipped on a pair of my favorite low-rise trunks. They accentuated my bulge perfectly and hugged my ass like a dream. It was a surprise to no one that this style of underwear was hands down my favorite.

yeah man I’m here. sorry, got distracted with this movie that i have playing on the TV. thanks for the love! I always love meeting a fan! But don’t be so hard on yourself, buddy. you’re pretty cute!

Hitting send, I threw on my dark blue tank and strolled over to my desk and opened up the message app on my laptop. This would make texting Adam easier, plus I could start making a dent on getting through all my e-mails I had been pushing off since Friday afternoon.

you think so? :) thanks! I think you’re so hot haha. 

I rolled my eyes as I opened up my e-mail inbox. Damn, I hadn’t been this disappointed about something in a while. And to think I got myself all worked up about possibly hooking up with this loser.

BUZZ.

wanna help me out with something? my friend did it yesterday and it looked really cool, and I’d love to do it with you.

I sighed, wondering how I could end this conversation without sounding like a total dick, but even the possibility of completely ignoring him seemed extremely appealing. I’d give the kid a few more messages, but then it was over. I replied:

what is it? 

BUZZ.

FaceTime me! It’ll be easier to explain.

Yeah, nope.

Uh idk man I’m kind of busy.

BUZZ.

Pleaseeeee, it’ll be fast I swear. It’s really awesome.

10 minutes. Tops.

I’d tell all my friends about how chill you are. I’m sure it’d be good for business.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. This is why I didn’t want to come off rude earlier because the last thing I needed was negative press spread by some dweeb. It would definitely look bad on my end... Things were going too good right now for some dumb scandal to put me under...

Whatever, I thought. If shit got too weird, I could always just hang up: 

All right, sure.

I clicked the FaceTime symbol shortly afterwards and waited for Adam to answer. 

“Jake!” Adam said, excitedly. He was sitting at the desk in his photo, presumably his bedroom. The lighting was pretty low, but luckily there was an open window behind him that made things a bit more visible.

God, he even sounds like a dweeb, trying not to cringe at his slightly nasally voice.

“What’s up, man?” I said, putting my hand on the back of my head, making sure to flex slightly. Hey, maybe I could even sweet talk him into buying some gear or maybe even a workout plan.

“I can’t believe you’re actually my number neighbor,” Adam said, shaking his head. “This is so cool!”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a laugh. “Shit’s pretty crazy. So, what did you need help with?”

“Alright,” Adam said, typing on his computer. “I’m sending you a link to this website. Click on it when you get it. It’s supposed to take you to this page and all the instructions are there. It’s kind of like, a game if you will.”

“Sounds interesting...” I said, lying. The sooner I got this out of the way, the quicker I could return to rummaging through my emails.

“And... sent!” Adam said, smiling. “Lemme know when you get it.”

DING.

“Got it,” I said, staring at the link. The link preview was odd. It didn’t say anything, really. Just showed a blank, white square, and no text. “What kind of game is this?”

“All the info is in there!” Adam said, repeating his statement from earlier. “But, it’s kind of like... a sci-fi type of concept.”

Shrugging, I clicked the link.

Suddenly, my web browser opened up a page with a painfully blinding white flash of light.

“Shit!” I said, squinting my eyes shut. My vision got hazy briefly, my eyes attempting to recover from being assaulted by an unnecessarily bright screen. A few moments later, I reopened them. When my eyes focused back on the page, there was nothing but a couple sentences:

subjects determined. lives accessed. player 1 selected as subject in power. player 2 selected as subject without power. begin altering at will.

“What the fuck is this, Adam?” I said, reopening the FaceTime call window. “I got blinded by some white light and now I finished reading the instructions but I don’t understand them at all.”

“Holy shit,” Adam said, giggling. “It really worked!”

“What did, Adam?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “What kind of shit is this?”

“You’ll see soon enough, Jakey,” Adam said, smiling.

“Okay, dude,” I said, scowling. “I think that’s enough of this. I gotta draw the line at Jakey, plus I don’t appreciate getting involved in whatever this is. But, I’m gonna hang up now...”

“No, Jake, I don’t think you will,” Adam said, crossing his own arms over his flat chest. “You’re going to stay on this call as long as I say so.”

“Cya, Adam,” I said, hovering my mouse cursor over the red button... but I couldn’t click it. As much as I tried to... my finger wouldn’t press down. 

“What... what the fuck?” I said, furrowing my brows. “Why... why can’t I hang up?”

“Cause I said you couldn’t,” Adam said, smiling. 

“What?” I said, my voice rising slightly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re the subject without power, remember?” Adam said. “And I’m going to be making some changes. Starting with... you know I really love your beard. I’ve always wanted to be able to grow one, but, as you can see... I can’t really...”

My face started to heat up, and my mouth dropped at what I was seeing. Within seconds, I saw hair sprout on Adam’s face, coating it all in a nice, healthy well-groomed pattern nearly identical to mine... but what was most frightening was what was happening to my own face.

My beard was vanishing. It was withering away at the same rate Adam’s was growing, until there were just a few stray scraggly wisps on my upper lip, chin, and random areas of my cheeks. It was the most pathetic looking beard I had ever seen. 

“What the fuck?” I said, almost at a whisper-level. “What the fuck is this? How are you doing this? Stop this right now you fucking dweeb!”

“Oh?” Adam said, rubbing his newly acquired facial hair. “Me? A dweeb?”

“Yeah, you little shit,” I said, almost yelling. “You got superhero posters plastered in your room and comics all over the fucking place. Give me back my facial hair back and go buy yourself some Rogaine if you want one! You probably wear Spider-Man undies since you clearly have never been laid before.”

“Well, Jake,” Adam said, chuckling. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’m pretty sure you’re the dweeb with the comic book obsession. And don’t you love wearing Y-cut tighty whitey briefs?”

My eyes widened as I noticed Adam’s background change. The posters in his room disappeared, being replaced with music vinyls, and sports trophies. The comics on his desk turned into health magazines and notebooks.

My room also shifted spontaneously. I gasped watching massive posters of the Justice League, Aquaman, Superman and Batman cover nearly every inch of my walls. My mouth gaped as crates of comic books cluttered underneath my bed, replacing the free-weights and other exercise equipment I typically stored there.

The biggest shock, however, was my low-rise trunks melting away and becoming a pair of skin-tight tighty whiteys that looked severely out of place on my massively muscular body.

“Holy fucking shit,” I said, standing up from my desk and running over to my nightstand. I opened the top drawer and choked at the sight of rows and rows of white briefs. Gone were my trunks, my boxer-briefs and even my jockstraps. Instead, were the same style of childish underwear that I hated even when I was an actual kid.

“Fuck!” I said, holding my head. Memories of comic store visits as a child plagued my mind. Thousands of trivial facts on every comic book imaginable flooded my brain. I could distinguish between even the most obscure series, and I even remembered going to a comic shop yesterday and being thrilled at finding a variant for a comic I had been searching for for months now.

“What are you doing to me, you fucking pale freak!” I said, yelling.

“Pale?” Adam said. “Me? Nah, I’m always a golden tanned man. You, my friend, seem like you could get a little sun. You’re looking pretty pasty.”

“No!” I said, pushing my arms out in front of me. My stunning tan dissolved into nothingness, my entire body taking on a pale white that looked like it burned instantaneously if I wasn’t wearing at least 100+ SPF.

“Stop this!” I said, nearing tears. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Aw, Jakey,” Adam said. “But I can! Don’t get too upset now. You’re gonna knock those glasses off your nose.”

A pair of thick-lens frames materialized on my face, identical to the pair Adam had been wearing just moments before. I ripped them off my face, horrified when I realized I couldn’t see a foot in front of me without them.

“This isn’t happening to me,” I said, gasping. I walked back to my desk, gawking at the man on the screen.

Adam was looking more handsome with every command he spoke. His olive tan contrasted amazingly with his white tank top, and that beard truly made his jawline pop. And without his frames, I could notice how beautiful his blue eyes were. He was looking less of a dweeb and more of a handsome man.

“Please, Adam,” I said, finally realizing the dire situation I was in. “I’ll do whatever you want, man. Just please, stop this. Change me back. I can give you anything.”

“Don’t worry, Jake,” Adam said, laughing. “I’m sure you’re still a catch with the guys. I heard some men really like muscled dudes with small packages.”

I yelped, feeling my junk dwindle away.

“No, no, no!” I said, pawing at my crotch. My impressive bulge vanishing before my eyes. Where there once was an obscene protruding mound now lay a flat, hardly noticable lump between my thick, muscular thighs.

I pulled the waist band back to peek inside and started crying at the sight. My cock couldn’t have been bigger than 2 inches soft, whereas before it was a solid 6.5 inches flaccid. My balls were tiny, perhaps the size of grapes. I looked like a freak.

“Wow, thanks for these inches, Jakey,” Adam said, his hands in his pants. I think I’m over 8 inches now. Let’s see how big you are hard, shall we?”

My cock sprung to life, stiffening to its full potential. It hardly made a difference.

“You took away nearly all of it,” I said, miserably. “I must be like 3 inches..”

“Aw, relax, Jake,” Adam said, smirking. “Your voice always cracks too much when you’re upset. I guess that’s what happens when you have a high pitched, nasally voice.”

“NooOOoOo,” I said, whining. My voice cracked on its way up, my healthy baritone creeping up into a lighter timbre. “AdaM, you need to SToP this!”

“Take off your shirt, Jake,” Adam said, his voice booming as it deepened. “Pose for me”

I flung my tank top across the room, posing in various positions.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to be 6 foot tall,” Adam said, “I’m only 5 foot 4 after all.”

The room began to grow around me as I plummeted towards the ground beneath me. I screamed and I dropped further and further, inches of height transferring over to the monster on the other side of my computer monitor. The first few inches were sudden, but the last several took their sweet time as I approached my new height of 5 foot 5, having surrendered 8 inches of my stature.

“God dammit, Adam, please” I said, grabbing at my throat, wincing at how pathetic I really sounded. “I’ll give you money, anything!”

“How bout your muscles instead?” Adam said, ripping off his tank top.

“Nooooo!” I said, yelling. My hard work melted away like it was nothing. The years I spent sculpting my muscles to perfection, the hours of putting together a routine just right, the power and strength I held so dearly... all stolen from me.

My pecs shriveled up on my chest. My arms thinned rapidly as they lost all definition. My legs followed suit, giving me an overall puny appearance. My abs vanished, giving me a flat tummy that hadn’t seen a crunch in years. My briefs hung lamely on my hips, now a couple sizes too big.

I looked like a loser.

Adam, on the other hand, was a stud. He looked like a man anyone would want to get laid up with, man or woman. He was ripped, sculpted, built.

I wept, staring at my image on my computer screen.

I really was a dweeb. A dweeb with no muscle tone, a pasty skin tone, thick glasses, a tiny prick, and way too many comic books that kept all the men I was interested in away from me. Zits began to sprout near my greasy hair-line as I continued to cry.

“Please, Adam,” I said, desperately. “I’m begging you... there’s still time to fix this... I can’t be like this... I’m too old for this kind of shit and I worked too hard for this...”

The tears ran down my cheeks, and down my totally flat chest. My twig-like arms shook as my knobby knees threatened to give out at any moment.

“There’s nothing wrong with being an 18-year-old obsessed with comics, Jakey, baby,” Adam smiled, flexing his pecs for the camera.

The years reversed themselves. All my memories of college disappeared from my mind. Gone was my business, my life’s work. My degrees, my car, everything I had spent time building.

Even my room changed, until I realized I no longer owned my own place. Instead, I was back in my childhood room, living once again with my parents. My new interior decor still hung on the walls and my comics still lay under my now twin-sized bed covered in flannel sheets.

“Oh my god,” I said, not caring anymore about how much I blubbered.

“So, yeah, thanks for the money too, man,” Adam said. “Guess it was a win-win, huh? But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have all the time in the world to get back to where you were. Once you know, once you graduate high school. I mean, you did flunk both the 4th and 7th grades, so you’re still considered a sophomore in high school... but, hey, you’ll be graduated in just a couple years!”

My brain turned into mush as my IQ dropped drastically. I remembered the embarrassment of watching my friends graduate on time as I sat in classrooms filled with kids 2 years my junior because I spent too many nights when I was younger reading comics under my bed sheets instead of studying for exams. My parents were grounded me for a whole year after I flunked 4th grade, and a year and a half after I failed 7th.

“Adam,” I said, moaning. “I can’t... I remember who I used to be... this isn’t right please, please stop...”

“It’ll all be over so soon, Jakey,” Adam said, now poking at his stomach, his abs buried underneath a layer of fat. “First, time to get rid of this...”

I gasped feeling the fat accumulate on my bones. I watched in horror at my jawline became hidden under a soft double chin, and my nipples became slightly droopy on my chest. My flat tummy became a little belly, then a rounder belly until I looked like I needed to start running to get rid of it. My legs jiggled as the weight piled itself on.

I was officially a chubby nerd. Gone was 10% body fat. I was now somewhere between 20-22%, and it would take months, maybe even longer until I could even be considered remotely skinny.

“Oh my god,” I said, tears rolling down my plump cheeks. I lifted my belly up, watching it flop slightly over my waist band. My ass jiggled as I ran over to my closet mirror, my briefs readjusting to an appropriate size. My entire wardrobe shifted itself into an array of gaudy graphic tees and khaki pants. Seatbelt belts with comic logos and caps with slogans littered my shelves. All my workout gear was replaced with board games and video games; the only sport I played must have been Wii Tennis, something I hadn’t touched in years since I bought my Nintendo Switch with the money I saved up from working at the comic shop around the corner.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked Adam, miserably. “Why me?”

“Well,” Adam said, as he posed in his tight low-rise trunks, cupping his junk and flexing his legs. “You were an accident. I never thought it would be you. My friend did this shit with his number neighbor last night. We didn’t know the power of the website... it was all an accident. But when he turned into a stud and the other dude ended up becoming a sniveling skinny guy, I knew I had to join my friend. You ending up being, well, you, just made things so much more fun. I had so much I could change and take from you... so thanks, little guy. Or, should I say, big guy?” Adam chuckled, pointing at my shrunken, chubby body.

“Fuck you...” I said, holding my head in my hands. “You’ve ruined my life!”

“And given you a new one,” Adam said, rolling his tongue over his brackets. “Oh, almost forgot about these...”

My groaned in pain as metal chunks glued themselves onto my crooked teeth, rubber bands finding their appropriate pattern in my mouth. The orthodontist said he hoped I’d only have to wear my braces for about another year or so. I really hoped so too.

“I’ll help you find someone else, Adam,” I said, still begging. “Change me back and we can find someone better... please, I want to be me again...”

“But that’s the thing, Jakey,” Adam said, mocking me. “This, is you now. A sad, chubby, little dweeb. That’s what you are. The 27-year-old, fit, rich, douchey asshole, is gone. And me, Adam, the soft, average-Joe, is also gone. Now, I’m probably hotter than you ever were. And smart, and rich. And I’m gonna have so much fun... hell my birthday is next month. I’ll be 30. And god, what a blast that is gonna be...”

“And who knows,” Adam said, bending over his laptop. “Find me in a couple years... maybe, and just maybe. I’ll let you worship this body. Cya, dweeb.”

And with that, he was gone.

I stood in silence, tears still staining my cheeks. A sad, pathetic, dumb, nerd. Who knew nothing about getting in shape, who know everything about Batman, and who would be living with his parents for many years to come.

BUZZ.

I checked my phone, an old iPhone 7 instead of my previous iPhone X Max. It was Adam.

oh, don’t worry. I’ll let you remember who you were from time to time. I’ll check on your regularly. But, now, number neighbor. I’ll let you forget this. so you can have fun with your new life ;) text you next month.

I shook my head, confused who this person texting me was. Deciding to ignore it, I deleted the message and walked back over to my closer, pulling out my favorite Avengers tee and a pair of appropriate cargo pants to go along with it.

They made my butt look a bit nicer than anything else I owned, plus, the cute regular was gonna show up to the D&D tournament tonight at the comic shop. He was sooo dreamy... he had muscles and everything and I actually think he was flirting with me last time.

Me! Of all people... I hoped he would talk to me, maybe ask for my number. I lost track of how many times I dreamt about him fucking me... god, just the thought of it made my little dick stand straight up...

“Jake!” My mom said, yelling from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready!”

“Coming mom!” I said, yelling back. I pushed my glasses up on my nose and threw on my clothes quickly.

I hoped she was making pancakes; they were the easiest and quickest to eat, and my shift at the shop started in about an hour.

God, I couldn’t wait to see Steve later than night... I really needed a good fuck...

--

This has been sitting in my drafts for months now - I was never sure if I actually liked it. I wanted to revise it, edit it a bit, but I never got around to doing so.

However, here I am now, a bit drunk, and just finishing re-reading this, and, honestly, I don’t think it’s half bad. Maybe you guys will think so too.

Hope you enjoy this. Maybe I’ll post something else in the near future. Like the story I’m drunkenly typing up based off an idea I got earlier today. Or maybe it’ll live in my drafts for another few months. Who knows.

Till next time?

Raul.

[thefateofdesire]

Frank & Matt

Okay, man, what the FUCK did you give me? See, when we met at the mall yesterday and you said you could “FIX” my issue with my boyfriend, I didn’t think you meant THIS. 

Like, holy shit, dude! 

Sure, am I dumbass for not entirely worrying whether these “performance enhancer” pills were suspect? Of course I am.

Am I a moron for still taking them even after you told me they would make “all my fantasies come true”? Absolutely. 

Does it make me self-important that I actually expected you to actually answer your phone the last eight times I called you, even though it’s nearly 2 in the morning? Sure.

And, as the cherry on top of things, does it make me any less foolish to think you’ll actually respond to this text message that I’m sure is going to be about 500 paragraphs too long? 

YES. 

But, here I am, dude, because what. the. actual. fuck.

This morning, I was just what you would call an average looking guy. 

Fine, above average: I was conventionally attractive, sure; with a body that most men in the gay community would call “average,” but others would call “skinny fat.” I had some muscle tone, but a softer mid-section, a moderate ass, less than moderate package, stood just under 5 feet 6 inches tall...

I was a twink. 

That’s exactly what my boyfriend and most of my friends would call me, anyways. So, maybe I started to label myself as that too.

My boyfriend, however... man, was he hot: Six feet tall, a gorgeous tan, muscles that looked perfectly proportioned on his body, a toned ass, a fat cock... god what I would’ve done to look like that.

That’s what I always wanted. To look like THAT. 

All my life, the men in my life treated me like I was some effeminate object to be owned, to be fucked, to be dominated. 

That was my sexual “purpose.”

And yeah, maybe I pretended to enjoy it for most of my sexual years, but, fuck, I was nearly 24 years old, and I wanted more than the life of a “submissive twink.”

I knew deep down I wanted to dominate, to top, to take control. But Matt? Yeah, he had other ideas.

“Babe, you know I don’t bottom.”

That’s what he would say every time. Every single time I tried to switch things up in the bedroom. Every damn time I tried asserting my desires and inner dominance over the past year of our relationship. 

“Besides, Frankie,” he’d add, “I got the bigger dick.”

And he’d grab his thick 7-incher and purposely hold it against my 4-and-a-half inch prick, just to further humiliate me.

And yeah, I know you already know all of this, and it still blows my mind how you ever managed to get me to spill my guts to you after I bumped into you at the food court.

You overheard Matt jokingly mention to me that I should get a vibrator to improve our sex life since I was unhappy with it cause it would, as Matt claimed: “help prepare me for the main attraction.”

To say I was pissed was an understatement.

I told him: “Sure, I’ll go buy one and maybe you can use it instead.”

And he had the nerve to reply: “You’re so cute, but I don’t think I’d need one to prepare for this little guy,” while rubbing his hand up my thigh until he nearly brushed over my crotch.

With that, I was gone. I stormed off, with Matt laughing at the table and finishing up his food.

That’s when I bumped into you, nearly completely across the food court.

I recognized you, you know: Raul Flores - I had seen you on my Instagram Discover page a few times, and I knew you were a model. So when you started talking to me, I felt like I was being punked.

I wasn’t sure how you claimed to overhear the entire conversation, considering I thought we weren’t being entirely loud and you were literally on the other side of the room... but I was embarrassed. So, I apologized and tried getting away.

But then it was like my feet couldn’t move. And I found myself telling you nearly all my life story, in what felt like just a few minutes. When I looked over to at Matt, he was talking to some other guy clearing the table. And I couldn’t help but notice how Matt was not so subtly checking out the dude’s chest and ass as he wiped the table down. I felt tears in my eyes start to form.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” I said, trying to hold back my emotions. “I could leave him, but I clearly care about him too much. I want things to work out.”

“You know,” you said, “I’ve been trying out these new pills... they’ve really made my sex life so much better.”

At first, I thought you were giving me some lame pitch for a sponsored product you had been offered recently. But something about the way you smiled at me... and put your hand on my shoulder... I felt like you were being genuine. And after you asked for my Instagram handle, and phone number so we could hang out again, as friends, I felt like you actually cared.

“Really?” I asked, turning my head to the side.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “They’ve helped a lot with my boyfriend, Chad. It makes things... magical.” 

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And how ‘magical’ is it?”

“No, man,” you said, continuing. “I mean it! Look, I’m not trying to scam you. It’s two pills: one for you, and one for your man.” You gestured with your elbow at Matt, still chatting with the busboy, and you pulled out a small bag with an orange and blue pill. 

“You take the blue one,” you said, continuing. “And make him take the orange one. It takes about 20 minutes for the pill to start taking affect, but after that, they’ll basically make all your fantasies come true.” You winked at me, and I felt chills up and down my spine.

I took the pills, looking at them in the little baggie. What kind of shit could this really be?

“Okay...” I said, slipping the pills into my back pocket. “But, what do they even do? How do they work?”

“Relax, man,” you said, laughing. “They’re not gonna kill you, I swear. I mean, would I really put myself at risk out here, in the open, to do something stupid like that?”

You had a point...

I shook my head no, waiting for you to continue.

“Exactly,” you said, finishing up your thought. “So, the pills will help make your desires come true. All you have to do, is think about them. Want to last longer? Done. Want a stronger orgasm? Cool. Matt to be more... submissive?” You smirked, a grin forming on your lips. “He’ll be putty in your hands... and so much more. One thing to note, however. The moment the pills start to take effect, you both will grow soft. Don’t panic. It’s just the pills’ way to let you know they’re ready to take you to all kinds of new places. I’ll let you see how far you can really go with them, cause trust me, buddy... those ideas are just the tip of the iceberg.”

And with that, you patted my shoulder, said you’d see me around, and to call you after tonight to let me know how I liked the pills...

And you were gone. 

And I was standing there, feeling like I just finished some kind of illegal drug deal.

But, god, I was hard. Something about what you said... I just believed you. I don’t know why, I just felt... compelled to actually try these things out.

Next thing I knew, it was nearly 10 p.m. and Matt and I had just finished watching a movie on the couch in our apartment. 

Before the film, we had showered, and now we were clad in some loungewear: Matt in a pair of form-fitting sweat pants, and myself in a ribbed tank top and running shorts. I was laying my head on Matt’s thighs, when I felt Matt’s hand start to slide down my chest.

I figured this was as good of a time as ever to mention the pills.

“So,” I said, removing Matt’s hand and sitting up straight. “I wanted to say I was only against your dildo idea because I actually ordered some performance enhancer pills online...”

“What?” Matt said, laughing. “Like Viagra?”

“No, no,” I said, “Better.” I smiled, pulling out the little bag from my waistband.

“Oh shit,” Matt said, his eyes widening. “They look weird. Are they like molly or something?” He reached his hand out towards the bag.

“Nope” I said, pulling the bag away from him. “But they’re supposed to get us both to enjoy everything more, feel our orgasms more intensely, and make our, and I quote: ‘fantasies come true.’” I had to hold in my laughter at the cheesy phrase you had used to describe these pills.

“Riiight,” Matt said, scoffing. “So, what’s up with the two colors then?”

“That...” I said, hesitating, “Uh...” I was blanking, and kicking myself why I never asked you that question.

“Ohhh, I get it,” Matt said, chuckling. “Top and bottom.”

"Yeah, ” I said, nodding my head and trying not to roll my eyes. Matt would find a way to somehow turn this into a top v. bottom issue, once again. Not caring if that was the actual answer or not, and not wanting to start a fight, I continued to nod.

“So,” I said, “You take the orange, and I take the blue, and it’ll take like 20 minutes to take effect.”

“Nice,” Matt said, nodding. He crossed his arms over his chest a few times, flexing his arms and shoulders, hyping himself up. “Blue definitely is your style too. I’ll gladly take the orange.”

“Yep,” I said, forcing a tight smile as I plopped the orange pill into Matt’s hand. Taking the blue pill between my thumb and index finger, I brought the pill up to my mouth. “So we doing this or not?”

“Sure, cutie,” Matt said, smirking. “Don’t see why not. If it’ll help me last longer and fuck you harder, I’m for it. On three?” He placed the pill in front of his mouth, mirroring me.

“On three,” I said, nodding. “One... two... three.” 

Fuck it, I thought.

I popped the pill in my mouth, and reached for my HydroFlask resting on the table. Taking a swig of water, I washed the pill down. 

“Ahhh,” Matt said, smacking his tongue and sticking it out. “Don’t even need water.”

I smiled, ignoring Matt’s desperate attempt to appear even more masculine. I was too busy feeling the excitement build up in my chest. Twenty minutes couldn’t go by any faster.

“I’m so excited to fuck you tonight,” Matt said, rubbing his hand over my already growing member. “Seems like you are too.”

“Yeah,” I said, “maybe you’ll even be open to switching it up a bit too.”

“Frankie,” Matt said, standing up and walking over to the bedroom. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. These pills aren’t magic.” He laughed as he turned the corner, and flicking the bedroom light on as he entered.

Not according to Raul, I thought, smirking to myself.

Nearly 20 minutes had passed, and Matt and I were busy already. We had managed to strip each other down to our underwear, and we were both solid as could possibly be. We were tangled on the bed, me on top of Matt, as he grazed his tongue over my chest.

“Woah,” we both said simultaneously. We unwrapped our arms around from each other and quickly sat up.

“Uh, what the fuck,” Matt said, as his dick grew instantly flaccid.

“No, it’s fine,” I said, equally shocked at the pill’s instantaneous effect. “The site I bought these on said the second the pills start to go into effect we’d both get totally soft.”

“That’s fucking weird,” Matt said, shaking his head. “But, whatever, I guess. So now we’re good to go?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. I was excited beyond words. In fact, I started to sweat bit. 

“Uhm,” I said, standing up. “Just give me a second, baby. I’m just gonna pee before we continue.”

“All right,” Matt said, laying back down. “Hurry back.” he reached his hand into his boxer briefs, playing with his dick. “I want you to get this baby back to full mast.”

I laughed as I walked down the hall into the bathroom. 

Flicking the light on, I walked over to the toilet, taking a quick leak. I flushed it down, and stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

Fuck, I was practically shaking from excitement. 

Turning the faucet on, I quickly washed my hands, then splashed some cold water on my face, watching it trickle down my chest. 

I frowned a bit, watching the droplets crawl down my skinny frame. 

God, don’t start this shit again, Frank, I thought to myself.

I shook my head. This was not the time to start whining about my skinny body. But, I couldn’t help but lament over the idea of just having a bit more muscle. A slightly more built chest... at least some pronounced abs... thicker arms... 

I hung my head down and closed my eyes.

I just wished my upper body was a bit more toned. 

God, I was annoying.

I lifted my head back up and rubbed the last bit of water from my eyes and turned to switch off the light.

But then... something felt off.

I felt this... pressure in my chest. Not like the excitement I had been feeling for quite some time now, but like, something was pushing outwards, away from my frame.

Turning my head back to the mirror, I squinted at my reflection. Inching my face closer, I gasped softly.

I ran my fingers over my chest... it was getting... bigger? But... how?

But there was no mistaking it, it was definitely filling out. I ran my fingers over the skin on my chest, feeling tissue grow beneath my finger tips. Muscle fibers sprouted from nothing and muscle continued to grow where there was hardly any before... 

Then the sensation traveled down into my abs. I felt them tense as they grew more defined. My eyes widened as I watched the layer of soft belly fat I had developed over the years start to melt away. My soft stomach tightened until there was a faint two-pack... then four... 

“This can’t be happening,” I said, too entranced to look away from my reflection.

I flexed my arms as I watched my biceps, triceps and shoulders grow exponentially... They pushed out, coating my entire body in a euphoria that felt better than any orgasm I had ever had before. 

In under 30 seconds, I felt like I had gained at least 15 pounds of muscle, and I looked like I at least casually went to the gym. My mouth dropped open my new body, unable to entirely wrap my head around it.

All your fantasies come true, I heard your voice ring in my head.

“Holy fuck...” I said, a smile growing quickly on my lips.

“Babe!” Matt said, calling from the bedroom. “Hurry up! I’m trying to stay soft till you get here but, damn I think the pill is really working, I’m fucking horny as fuck!”

“Coming!” I said, still ogling at my improved form. I quickly flexed my new muscles in the mirror, and ran back to the bedroom. 

Oh, fuck, I thought. 

Yeah, it was definitely gonna be a night to remember.

“Sorry,” I said, sliding back onto the bed, making sure to angle my body to show off my new-found muscles.

“Woah, Frankie,” Matt said, smiling. “You’ve been working out? Fuck, I can’t believe I never noticed. I wanna fuck you even more.” He pressed his lips against mine, letting his hands roam over my stomach and chest.

“Yeah, babe,” I said, lying. “Just for you...”

Feeling his hands roam over me like I was an entirely new person instantly brought my formerly soft member to full potential. I moaned as he rubbed every inch of my torso, feeling myself grow hotter by the second.

He picked me up, carrying us over to the other side of the room and pressed me against the wall.

“Fuck,” Matt said, groaning in my ear. “I could fuck you right here, right now. Turn around.” He placed his arms on my shoulders, turning to flip me so my stomach was pressed against the wall.

I wonder... I thought. 

I wish Matt was a bit more submissive.

Suddenly, Matt took his hands off me, a wave of confusion flashing over his face, and he crept down, getting down on his knees.

“Fuck, baby,” Matt said, positioning himself in front of me. “I don’t know what’s up with me, but I’m so horny right now. I haven’t felt this horny in so long. I want just want your cock right now.”

The smile on my lips couldn’t have been any bigger. 

“Please,” Matt, said, continuing. “Let me suck it.”

“Go for it, baby,” I said.

With that, my briefs were pushed down just below my crotch, and all of me was inside his mouth. All 4.5 inches. And god was it the best blowjob of my fucking life. He swallowed it with ease, and he bucked his hips forward, his bulge stretching madly against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Another thought crossed my mind.

I wish I had the bigger cock. I wish the longer Matt sucked me off, the larger my dick grew. And the bigger my dick grew, the smaller his got. And I wish he was partially aware something is off, but just unable to entirely understand exactly what.

As Matt worked my pole, I felt myself grow in his mouth. And grow. Until suddenly Matt was putting significant more effort to take it all in. He bobbed up and down further, and longer. His mouth strained more and more, until he had to start putting serious work into deepthroating it all. And I smirked watching the bulge in his boxer briefs grow flatter and flatter.

As my dick continues to grow, I thought, I wish my balls would do the same. And have the opposite continue to affect Matt.

My eyes rolled back into my head as Matt sucked and slurped on my now well-over average cock. And as his once massive bulge grew further diminished in his underwear, I had to stifle a laugh at the sight it now was - a small lump now between his thick, muscular thighs.

“Damn, baby,” Matt said, wiping his mouth. “I love sucking your... little dick.” He smiled up at me, a twinge of loss in his eyes as he began to rub the front of his shorts. “You wanna suck this bad boy now?”

“Wait,” I said, pulling Matt to his feet. I gaped at the sight of my new member, marveling at its girth and size. I figured it had to be at least eight inches now, with a heavy set of balls to match. “Let’s go back to the bed, and take your underwear off.” I peeled mine off, shuddering as my briefs slid over my sensitive dick, causing it to bob heavily up and down briefly.

Matt climbed back on to the bed, shucking off his boxer briefs and flipped over onto his back. There, in front of me, lay my boyfriend of a year and I couldn’t help but grin. 

“Baby,” I said, walking over to my phone charging on the dresser. “You mind if I take a picture of you? I know you said you wanted me to take nudes of you cause it turns you on and well, you’re really turning me on right now.”

“Sure, cutie,” Matt said, flexing his stomach. “Take this all in.” He waved over his body before hovering over his junk to boast his pride and joy, 

Oh, baby, I thought, smiling as I took numerous pictures. If you only you could see this now. You’re smaller than I was.

There, on our bed, was a well-built, stud of a man with a package that looked even smaller in contrast to the muscles it was surrounded by. A four-inch dick, with balls that daintly sat on the bedsheets beneath them. 

“Man,” Matt said, stroking his shrunken member. “I kind of feel... off. Do I look as hard as I normally do?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, smirking. “You’re hard as a rock. Don’t worry, handsome. The pills are probably just making you feel extra horny and it feels different, you know?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I guess so. I do feel good all right.” He bucked his hips into the air and he continued to fondle himself. “C’mere, Frankie. I want you to suck me.”

As I walked over to join my boyfriend, another thought crossed my mind.

I wish Matt was shorter than me, and as he shrinks, I’ll take those inches of height. Let him slowly start to become more aware of these changes, but still be unable to put his finger on what’s actually happening to him, or me.

I crawled on top of my man, and smiled devilishly his limbs almost instantly began to contort and shrink before my eyes. I ran my hands over his muscled thighs as they shrank closer and closer to his hips. I ran my tongue over his torso as it compacted down against itself.

“Woah,” Matt said, moaning. “I feel so warm.”

I inhaled sharply as my bones softly popped as my body grew longer, and longer. I flipped Matt and I over and watched my body stretch. My legs. My arms. My torso. Matt placed his hands on both sides of me and smiled down at me.

“You look so good, Frankie, baby,” Matt said, still shrinking. “I don’t know why but you look different... I feel different too... maybe I just need to work out more?”

“You look good, handsome,” I said, still smiling. I wrapped my hands around his waist, wondering if this is what it felt to hold someone my height. I looked at both of our bodies. He couldn’t have been more than five foot five now, and my own body was slowly crossing over the six feet mark. All the muscle on his frame look entirely out of place now, like a body builder desperately trying to compensate for being below average in height. On the opposite end, I looked like a lanky, gangly man that should be eating way more than I was.

“You like this huh?” he said, continuing to grow shorter. “You like looking at yourself and then me? You like seeing what a real man looks like huh?”

Another thought entered my mind as I nodded slowly.

I wish Matt’s muscles started transferring over to my body too. Let him start to realize things are wrong, and that we’re changing.

"Fuck,” Matt said, holding his head. “Okay, babe, I’m starting to think something’s up with these pills. I feel fucking awesome, but I don’t know now I feel like I’m... falling...”

“Yeah, Matty Boy?” I said, slyly poking fun at him as his muscles began to melt before my eyes. This change was occurring more rapidly than the others had. All at once it looked like his muscles were being drained from his body and entering my own. I moaned watching my four pack become a six pack in seconds. My joints popped as my legs swole with muscle, pushing my legs further apart from each other. My ass tightened and lifted me up slightly from the bed beneath me.

“Matty... Boy...?” Matt said, trailing off. “Wait, what the fuck?” He stared down at his chest, watching the pecs he had always been so proud of sink closer and closer to his breast plate. It reminded me of pics I had seen of Matt when he first started lifting weights back in the day.

 “Wh-what’s happening to me? My muscles? Wait, what’s happening to you!”

He was nearly shouting now and I couldn’t help but laugh..

“What do you mean, little guy?” I said, further mocking him. I squeezed my arms around him, feeling him grow tinier and tinier by the second. I moaned watching my chest heave up and down, my chest now larger than his own. “You look sexy to me.”

“Frankie!” Matt said, beginning to panic. “You’re... you’re huge! And I’m... holy fuck, I look like a...a...”

“A little twink?” I said, bucking my hips into his lithe body.

Gone was the stud I had been dating for the past year. In his place was a scared little guy, barely standing at maybe 5 feet 4-and-a-half inches tall, with a skinny, lanky body that Matt loved to mock and tease on others guys. 

Gone were his tree trunk thighs and brutish arms. In their places lay straight, gangly twigs that had probably only lifted a box of groceries up the apartment stairs from time to time. His junk looked more in place on his new body, but once Matt fully came to terms with his predicament, it would likely only bring him burst into tears quicker.

Me, on the other hand... I might have been bigger than Matt ever was. I was definitely well over 6 feet tall now, with muscles that rippled on every each of my body. My legs looked powerful enough to run a marathon, but also squat a few hundred pounds. My ass felt perky, but muscular; I doubt there was much fat there at all. My arms had to have been at least double, maybe triple the size of Matt’s new arms. And my cock... Yeah, there was no way anyone could ever tell me that my new package was too small to top.

“Frankie,” Matt said, his voice booming. “What the fuck is happening!”

“Aww, Matty,” I said, pouting, emphasizing the childish nickname. “You shouldn’t yell at people that literally hold your life as you know it in their hands.”

I wish Matt’s voice was at least two octaves higher, with a light twang to it that made it near impossible for him to forcibly bring it down to sound more masculine.

“Frankie, I sweAr T0 G0D iF YoU HaD ANYthiNG t0 Do WiTH Th-” Matt said, his eyes widening the more he continued to speak. “NO!” He clawed as his throat, swallowing repeatedly, presumably trying to keep his baritone voice from climbing any further. “Please, Frankie,” Matt said, his anger evaporating into pure fear. “Please, stop this.”

“Aww, but, cutie,” I said, slapping his small, perky ass. “I think it suits you well with this little bod’ don’t you think? Matter of fact...”

I wish Matt’s ass was filled with more fat than muscle, and it was hands down his biggest asset.

Beneath my palm I felt Matt’s cheeks expand, swelling with juicy fat, jiggling slightly.

“Frankie,” Matt said, beginning to cry as he felt his butt bubble out behind him. “You can’t do this to me. Please, you can’t. Don’t do this. I don’t wanna be a twink. Make me muscular again, please. I’ll do anything.”

I wish Matt had very little body hair, and definitely no facial hair.

“Baby boy,” I said, sitting up now, and letting go of my grasp on Matt’s bottom. “I think you look way better this way. Why don’t you take a look yourself?”

Matt scrambled off the bed, running to the far-right corner to start at himself in the closet mirror, his chest hair and the stubble on his face fading completely away in the process.

“This can’t be fucking happening right now...” Matt continued to cry, staring at his significantly smaller build. To think just 20 minutes prior there was a 6 foot, 220 pound man stud in this bedroom, and now all that stood was a boy in comparison; still the same prime age of 25, but well over 100 pounds lighter, and barely creeping past the 5 foot 4 inch mark.

“Oh, but it is,” I said, purposely stepping heavier than normal to emphasize my new size. “And this, my little twink boyfriend, is going to be our new life. What do you say?”

I stood behind him, grabbing him from behind. I palmed his still rock hard prick with one hand, my other jiggling his perky, greedy butt.

“You like it, don’t you?” I said, smiling. 

“I...” Matt said, shaking his head. “Fuck... yes, but I don’t want to be like this, Frankie... I can’t. I’m so sorry for ever teasing you. Just please, turn me back.”

“First off,” I said, squeezing his ass a little tighter. “It’s Frank. You always knew I hated Frankie. But you never cared. Well, this is what never caring got you into, Matty. You’re your biggest nightmare. And I know that’s what it was: You fucked with me because you thought you were better than me. And now the tables are turned and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But, Franki- Frank,” Matt said, quickly correcting himself. “I’ll do anything. Anything, I swear.”

“Hmm,” I said, pondering the thought. “Anything?”

“Yes,” Maty said, nodding his head feverishly. “Anything, babe. I swear. You can stay this way. I mean, you’re fucking hot! I’ll let you fuck me whenever you want. We can flip! Just like you wanted!”

“Hmmmmmm,” I said. “Well... I guess that could be nice... Under one condition.”

“Yes,” Matt said, smiling suddenly, wiping the tears from his face. “What is it, beautiful? Anything. You name it.”

I smirked.

“I wish Matt would revert back to his original body, height, muscles, everything that’s changed,” I said, still smiling. 

Matt beamed, looking down at his body.

“...IF,” I continued.

Matt’s face fell.

“...And ONLY if,” I said, continuing, “Matt is able to prevent himself from cumming for one whole minute while I do whatever I want to him. If he fails, this becomes permanent:  Both his and my changes. And this will be our new lives because it will always be how we always were.”

“Frank,” Matt said, his eyes once again welling up. “I don’t want to be like this, please, I’m literally begging you.” He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around my muscles calves. “I’ll only bottom for you, anything. I don’t care. Just please... make me big again.”

“And you can be, Matty, baby,” I said, stroking my hand through his hair. “You just have to follow the condition. Think you can do that?”

Matty looked up at me, sniffling. 

“Yeah,” he said, gulping. “I know I can do it.”

“Then,” I said, lifting him up and scooping him into my arms. “Let’s get to work.”

I plopped him on the bed with ease, much to Matty’s surprise. He gasped, falling onto his stomach, his butt jiggling in the process.

I spread his legs and propped myself up behind him.

“Frank,” Matty said, taking a deep breath. “Just... be gentle okay?”

“Don’t worry, little guy,” I said, palming his ass cheeks. “I’m not gonna fuck you, yet. As much as I’d like to. No, cutie. Believe it or not, I actually want you to enjoy this. So let me make you feel good, okay?”

“Okay,” Matty said, nodding slowly.

“One minute, stud,” I said, slyly making a jab with my insult.

Now, my experience eating ass isn’t the most profound. But, hey, I had some magic pills to help.

I wish I could eat ass like no other.

“Holy FUCK,” Matty said, practically yelling.

I smiled, swirling my tongue around, smacking his cheeks in the process. I stroked his dick with my free hand, making sure to make my strokes in rhythm with my tongue probing at his ass.

I worked faster, and faster, knowing there was no way Matty could escape this.

It just wasn’t possible. Not with these pills.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Matt said, getting anxious. “I can’t cum, Frank, please. Don’t. I can’t...”

“But, baby,” I said, flipping him over onto his back, tweaking his nipples on his now flat chest. “It’s only been what? 30 seconds? If that?”

“It’s,” Matty said, moaning, arching his back. “You’re too fucking good, please, babe.”

“Oh,” I said, spreading his legs again. “At this?” I licked his inner thighs, going back to work on his...

“FUCK,” Matty gasped. “YES! That! Please, no, fuck, Frank. FUCK. Please! I don’t want to be-”

“You’re my twink,” I said, stroking him in between breaths. “You’re mine.”

“No,” Matty said, desperately trying to wait it out. “I’m... I want to be.. back to... normal...”

“Say it,” I said, now pressing my member against his ass. “Say you’re my twink.”

“I’m...” Matty said, moaning. “Ten more seconds...”

“Say it,” I said, lining myself up with his ass.

“Please...” Matty said, yelling as his breath hitched.

“Say you’re my twink,” I said, licking my tongue from the base of his cock to the head.

“I’m your fucking twink, Frank!” Matty said, screaming, busting all over his chest.

He gasped, breathing heavily as I rubbed his cum all over his shrunken torso, making sure to emphasize how small he had become and will be for the foreseeable future.

“Damn, boy,” I said, laying next to him, stroking my dick. “For a little guy, you sure bust a lot of nut.”

“Fuck,” Matty said, squeezing his eyes tight. “I almost had it... I fucking almost had it...”

“Just missed it by a few seconds, really,” I said, shrugging.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Frank,” Matty said, crying for about what felt like the millionth time that night. “I know I was an ass... I’m... There’s nothing I can say that will make it better, but I’m sorry...”

"No,” I said, shaking my head. “There isn’t.”

“Is this... really permanent?” Matty asked, climbing on top of me, straddling my frame. 

Fuck, he was so hot this small.

“Honestly,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t know if anything about this is permanent. I guess I have to ask the guy I got this from. But trust me, Matty, I don’t plan on changing us back any time soon even if it isn’t. You better get used to this, for a while. If not forever, cause shit, everything I thought basically came true so, get used to it.”

Matty nodded, softly.

“I figured,” he said, sniffing. “Fuck... I never even imagined I could be this tiny.”

“Me either,” I said, chuckling. “But, wow, am I glad I got to see it. Look how hard you have me.” I pulled my cock back, letting it slap against my solid eight pack. “This is all you, Matty Boy.”

“It honestly fucking hurts to admit that you’re hot as fuck like this, Frank,” Matty said, clenching his fist. “And it hurts even more to admit, everything that’s happened... has been simultaneously horrifying and absolutely fucking mind-blowingly amazing...”

“Wanna go for more?” I said, cocking my eyebrow.

“I don’t think I c-” Matty said.

I wish Matt was always ready for more, and the more sexually active he was, the more submissive and open he would become.

“God fucking damn you and those fucking pills, baby,” Matty said, moaning. 

“What do you want me to do, handsome?” I said, once again pulling my dick back and letting it smack against my stomach.

“Fuck me,” Matty said, already positioning himself. “I don’t give a fuck, just do it already. I need you inside me now.”

“With pleasure,” I said, smirking.

And we fucked for hours, Raul. 

HOURS.

And honestly, maybe the beginning of this message seemed like I was angry or frustrated with this outcome, but no. I’m so fucking thankful for you.

You’ve changed my life, for the better. 

And sorry about all the missed calls, dude... I just need to talk to you when you can. So, get back to me when you can, yeah? The sooner the better, but I’m sure you’re busy... being a model and all

But, man... you gotta let me how long this lasts. 

I’m just praying I don’t wake up a skinny dude again tomorrow, cause I can get used to this life with Matty. 

And honestly, considering my new twink even slipped and called me “daddy” during our 5th fuck session... I think he could too. 

Thank you.

Your new friend,

Frank

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Epilogue

“Let’s keep drinking, Raul. It’s too early for us to stop.”

That’s what Carlos said to me as we finished up eating a couple sandwiches from the café in the hotel lobby… three hours ago.

Now, it was just past midnight, and we were neck deep in the booze swimming through our veins. Red cups, liquor bottles and a bucket of ice covered the small table in the corner of the room… our Coachella outfits thrown haphazardly on the floor. At some point, Carlos and I decided we didn’t need our clothes, and our underwear sufficed enough.

I was sprawled out on my bed, grinning like an idiot as I watched Carlos dance in the bathroom doorway. He jutted his hips in and out, twirling occasionally to the music playing through his Bluetooth speaker.

“God, I fucking love synth pop,” Carlos said, clapping his hands together. “Why the fuck did I not give it a chance before?”

“Cause you were too busy being masc as fuck,” I said, laughing.

“Ugh, you’re right,” Carlos said, shaking his head. “Well, better late than never – You’ve shown me the light and I’m never straying from this heavenly sound.”

I chuckled, carefully sitting up so I wouldn’t get a head rush. I inched closer to the edge of the bed, positioning myself in front of the closet mirror.

“Come over here,” I said, patting next to me. “Let’s take more pics – this spot would look so cute.”

Carlos skipped over, plopping beside me. He wrapped his arms around my torso, turning his body to the side.

“Oh hell yeah,” he said, tightening his abs and arching his back. “This is good.”

I pulled out my phone, snapping photos quickly, the twink in both Carlos and I truly shining through. We adjusted our bodies in-between shots, making sure to get the best angles for each picture, showing off different parts of our faces and bodies.

“Perfect,” I said, zooming in frame slightly. “Wait, don’t move. Your jaw line looks great like that.”

Carlos stiffened, pushing his jaw out slightly more to accentuate it in the light.

“There?” he said.

SNAP.

“There,” I said, smiling. I pulled the phone further away from our faces, flipping the camera to the front view for a few selfies. As I readied the camera for the next set, Carlos inched closer to my cheek, giving me a light peck as I took another picture.

I turned to look at Carlos, slightly caught off guard.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe it’s the alcohol, but, truthfully, I’ve wanted to do that since Friday…”

I opened my mouth to speak, placing my hand on Carlos’ small thigh, when he shook his head.

“And I know you’re with Chad,” Carlos said, placing his hand over mine. “And like I said before, I’m not going to interfere with that. I respect you both and you guys are such an inspiration to me since I’ve never really had a long-lasting relationship… I’d just be a liar if I said I didn’t find you attractive, ‘cause I do. In both this body, and my normal body.”

I nodded, smiling softly. Carlos was a beautiful man – there was no denying it. The type of body I loved to have myself, but also didn’t mind in a partner. He was smart, business-savvy, and hilarious. If things were different, and life had us cross paths earlier… if life had played out differently… maybe we could’ve been something.

“I appreciate your honesty, Carlos,” I said, completing my thoughts out loud. “But, I love Chad. And honestly, you’re such a great friend to me that I just wouldn’t want anything to ever get in our way. What we have is perfect. You’re amazing, and I don’t want to ever lose you in my life.”

“I don’t either, Raul,” Carlos said, tearing up slightly. “I’m sorry for that… I just didn’t want to keep that a secret. I’m more than okay with just being your best friend, especially because I know I’ll never find anyone else like you.”

He wrapped his arms back around me, hugging me tightly.

“You’re really the best, Raul,” he said, sniffing quietly.

“You are too, Carlos,” I said, squeezing back.

“Well, you two seem to be getting along great,” a voice said across the room.

Carlos and I turned to the front door, unsurprised to see Diana standing there, puffing on a cigarette.

“Damn, Diana,” Carlos said, rubbing his eyes. “Do you ever knock?”

“Knock?” she said, scoffing. “For what? Dropping in suddenly is much more my brand.”

“You have a point there, Diana,” I said, standing up. “Any updates about the enchantment?”

“Yes, actually,” Diana said, strolling over. “We caught the guy. His trial will begin tomorrow, but I’m sure it’ll be a short one. The amount of evidence the other witches and I gathered should be more than enough to strip him off all his powers; he’s a fool really. He hardly made an attempt to hide his tracks… even worse, he’s friends with the same warlock that caused you and Chad all that fuss last year.”

“Of course he is…” I said, shaking my head.

“Who was the guy who tried setting you up last year, Raul?” Carlos said, crossing his arms. “You never really said.”

“And he can’t,” Diana said, taking a drag. “Even though the warlock’s trial is over and done with, and he was stripped of his powers and sentenced to start his mortal life in a regressed, much smaller body, the magic world forbids anyone naming those sentenced of crimes.”

“Exactly,” I said, sighing. “Let’s just say, it was a shock to both Chad and I when we found out who it was all along. And I’m glad he got what he deserved.”

“Well, he sounds like a dick, and has really shit taste in friends,” Carlos said.

“He was always a terrible warlock anyways,” Diana said, rolling her eyes. “Good riddance.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Thank you for all your help, Diana. Not to push our luck, but did you find out what we can do about the enchantment’s effect on Carlos?”

Carlos walked over to me, grabbing my arm.

“Yes,” Diana said, smiling. “You’ve been given permission from the council to revert Carlos back to his true form.”

“Oh my god,” Carlos said, gripping my bicep. “Thank god!”

“I figured you’d like hearing that,” Diana said. “But, it seems to me that you actually ended up enjoying your time in that body.” She pointed at Carlos with her cigarette, gesturing to his thin form clad in only body-hugging briefs. “So, I guess Raul doesn’t need to change you back.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Carlos said, his voice rising. “Yeah, maybe I ended up liking this body way more than I could have ever imagined, but that does not mean in any shape, way or form that I’m okay with staying like this!”

“Relax, big guy,” I said, laughing. “She’s just teasing you. I can definitely change you back if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, please!” Carlos said, pressing his hands together like he was praying. “I need everything to go back to normal.”

“You two are too much,” Diana said, smirking to herself. “Before I go, though. Raul, the council wanted to inform you that incidents taken against you like this will be scrutinized and punished fully in the future. And, yes, I did say the future. They expect more people to come forward thinking they can get away with their schemes. And, unfortunately, the council still refuses to let me give you, or anyone in your life, protection spells from these occurrences.”

“Great,” I said, shutting my eyes. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”

“So something like this could just happen again?” Carlos said, throwing his hands up in the air. “And they won’t do anything to stop that?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Diana said, shaking her head. “In their eyes, it would make it inevitable that Raul will succeed with his end of the arrangement, which is something many individuals on the council still do not want to see fulfilled. Plus, if more people come forward to attack Raul, or any of you, the council sees it more beneficial to punish them accordingly since they’ll be able to weed out the witches and warlocks that shouldn’t have magic to begin with.”

“I guess that makes… some sense,” I said, opening my eyes again. “Annoying as hell, though.”

“That,” Diana said, finishing the end of her cigarette before snuffing it out in her fingers. “I agree with that entirely. I’m sorry, Raul.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, smiling with the right side of my mouth.

“Nevertheless,” Diana said, walking back towards the front door. “I’ll still be here monitoring you and checking in every week to give my reports. And if anything else does happen, I’ll make sure everything is corrected to how they should be. Meaning, if more undesirable transformations or punishments occur, I’ll still need to get the OK for them to be reversed, so don’t go acting on your own accord, Raul.”

“Understood,” I said, saluting. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Knock it off with the sarcasm,” Diana said, rolling her eyes. “Before I go tell the council that this arrangement is not working and suggest you and Carlos’ be permanently corrected to live the life of two hyper horny, fem, lithe porn stars with much smaller bodies than what you both currently have.”

“Quit it, Raul,” Carlos said, smacking my chest. “I am not down for that.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “Geez, lighten up you two.”

“Have a great night, boys,” Diana said, mocking me with a salute of her own.

“And there she goes,” I said, gesturing to the now empty space where she once stood.

“Is it weird that I think she’s awesome, but also insanely terrifying?” Carlos said, shuddering.

“Nope,” I said. “I feel the exact same way about her.”

Carlos turned to look at me, a huge smile on his face.

“So,” he said, grinning. “Do you think you could do some of your magic and change me back now?”

“Aw, Carlos,” I said, feigning disappointment. “Don’t you wanna stay like this for, I don’t know, another few months?”

“Don’t you even play, Raul,” he said, his smile dropping instantly.

“Okay,” I said, bursting out laughing. “We get it – you want your muscles back.”

“Yes, I absolutely fucking do!” Carlos said, placing his hands on his hips. “This twink is ready to make the jump back to stud-status.”

“You know,” I said, frowning a bit. “I’m actually gonna miss Twink Carlos… we had a pretty great run together. Plus, it was nice to have a friend that was actually around my size for a change.”

“I know,” Carlos said, sighing. “It really was a great day. Plus, I’m gonna miss the extra bit of fame I got from this body… but no amount of money or followers is really worth me not being fully happy with myself.”

“I completely understand,” I said, nodding. “Your career is just starting, anyways. I know you’ll achieve what you want to very soon.”

“I sure hope so,” Carlos said, smiling once again. “I’m just really glad I met you, Raul. Truly the best thing that’s happened to me in a long ass time.”

“I’m glad we met too, best friend,” I said, grinning. “You ready?”

“More than I can even explain,” Carlos said, bringing his arms down to his side. “But… is it gonna hurt?”

“No,” I said. “Maybe feel a little weird… but it won’t hurt. I promise.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, nodding. “I trust you.”

I looked at the boy before me, scanning him from head to toe, mourning silently to myself about the twink that would be no more in just a few moments. I shut my eyes, imagining Carlos’ body returning to the form he had lost, before reopening them.

It first started with his legs. Tiny hairs resurfaced on his skin before blooming out in the light, groomed coat Carlos had sported before. His limbs and torso cracked softly as they began to elongate, stretching out to regain his former 5 foot 11 frame. At this point, he looked like a lanky, gangly kid.

“Damn,” Carlos said, examining his body in the mirror. “This is so fucking crazy.”

Carlos’ mouth dropped slowly when the weight began to pile back on, his muscles growing at an exponential rate. As his thighs reshaped and his arms bulked up, he smiled to himself, flexing occasionally to make sure the muscles were really there again. His chest ballooned in size, redeveloping the deep ridge between each of his pecs. His abs popped out one by one, his core resculpting itself into the power force it deserved to be.

“Almost there, big guy,” I said, feeling my groin stir at bit at the sight of the boy returning to his manly state.

The pouch of Carlos’ brief strained against the girth and length of his returning manhood and balls; the back of his briefs struggling to cover the muscular cheeks as they grew proportionately. Carlos moaned as the facial hair returned to his face, his jaw and cheekbones becoming more prominent once again as he aged back to 25.

“Fuck, Raul,” he said, subconsciously groping his stiffening member. “This… is amazing…”

I smirked to myself as the changes slowly came to a close.

“It’s a trip isn’t?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Hell yeah,” Carlos said, his voice dropping into a rich baritone as the changes finally completed. Feeling confident enough to move his legs, Carlos slowly walked closer to the mirror, readjusting himself to the added weight and height.

“Wow,” he said, running his hands over his face and entire body.

And wow was right – gone was Twink Carlos… Stud Carlos was back in action. I smiled.

Carlos turned to me, beaming with joy.

“I’m back, baby!” he said, shouting. He threw he arms out triumphantly before running over to me. He wrapped his arms around me before lifting me off the ground, spinning us around a few times.

“Fucking A, Carlos,” I said, gasping.

“I’m sorry!” Carlos said, putting me back down. “I’m just really fucking happy. Thank you so much.”

“Any time, buddy,” I said, smirking.

“Uh, but… one more thing,” Carlos said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sure, what’s up?” I said, cocking my head to one side.

“You think you can change my wardrobe back to normal?” Carlos said, blushing as he gestured towards his crotch.

Looking down, I giggled to myself at the sight: the front of his briefs comically strained against the contents, barely able to keep his package from bursting out. The back of his underwear was so far stretched that the tiny underwear looked closer to a thong than a pair of briefs that had fit perfectly only a couple minutes before.

“Yeah,” I said, still laughing. “I got you.”

Snapping my fingers, Carlos’ suitcase shifted itself into the clothes he felt most comfortable in. The outfit he wore to Coachella earlier, however, simply grew in size to fit Carlos’ muscular build. And, finally, the skimpy briefs sitting on his waist materialized back into the classic blue and white stripped boxer briefs from this morning.

“Whew,” Carlos said, readjusting his bulge. “That’s much better.” He squeezed himself one last time before chuckling to himself. “As douchey as it sounds, I’m definitely glad to have that back to normal. The 4 and half-incher I was sporting earlier today was cute… but I’ll happily take the extra few inches.”

“We get it,” I said, punching Carlos in the shoulder. “You’re a top.”

“Fuck off,” he said, his laughs booming throughout the room. “I’m sure when you get transformed back into your own true body you’re going to say the exact same thing about your junk.”

“Touche,” I said, shrugging. What could I say? I did miss my cock.

Carlos returned his gaze back to the mirror, flexing occasionally as he checked out his body.

“Back to reality, then, I guess,” he said, sighing.

“Yeah,” I said, standing next to him. “It won’t be bad though.”

“I hope not,” Chad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “At least we still have our meeting with our agents. And I’m only about a 15-minute drive from you and Chad’s place.”

“Exactly,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Plus, if you ever tick me off, I can always get Diana’s permission to revert you back into this guy to teach you a little lesson.” I swiped through the pictures we took in the room just before Diana visited us.

“Oh my god,” Carlos said, looking at the pictures. “You fucking would make sure you had those pictures.”

“Yep,” I said, placing my phone back in the waistband of my briefs. “Memories! And a little blackmail whenever I feel like teasing you.”

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend,” Carlos said, tackling me down to the bed. “Or else I might decide to torture you right now.”

“Touch me and you’ll be begging for a dick in your twink ass in less than 10 seconds,” I said, raising my hand up to snap my fingers.

“Chill, chill, chill,” Carlos said, holding his hands out in front of him while laughing. “I’m just teasing back.”

“Good,” I said, smacking Carlos on the ass. “And you better start saving up your money for the advanced presale. Coachella 2020, baby.”

“Hell, hopefully we both get to come here on sponsorships next year,” Carlos said, laughing.

“Oh fuck yeah,” I said, nodding.

God, I just couldn’t wait till next year.

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 3 - Continued

“Holy fuck, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice beginning to slur. “I’m such a lightweight now.”

I laughed at my friend, still standing in only his briefs. In his right hand, he held a red plastic cup that previously contained a double shot of vodka – the second we had downed in the past half hour.

“No worries,” I said, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “I’ve been in this body for 4 months now and I’m still not used to how little it takes for me to get drunk.”

“But,” Raul said, walking over to the closet door mirror. “I mean… I’m drunk!” He threw his hands upwards, laughing to himself.

“All right, big guy,” I said, grabbing the red cup from his hand. “In that case, let’s switch to water for now. We have to hurry get ready and head to the festival grounds. We should try to leave by noon.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, nodding. He stared at his reflection, turning his hips so his ass faced the glass. “No offense, but if it were possible for me to top myself… I’d definitely bang this ass.”

I fell down on the bed, covering my mouth to prevent making too much noise.

“Jesus Christ, Carlos,” I said, talking through my hand. “Horny much?”

“What, like you wouldn’t?” he said, turning to look at me.

I stared at him, still chuckling. He had a point. The new Carlos had one of the most fuckable asses I had ever seen. Just round enough to fit into the “bubble butt” category, mixed with the perfect amount of fat, and a bit of muscle. Carlos smacked his right cheek, watching it jiggle.

“Damn,” he said, smacking the other side.

I walked up to the mirror, grabbing his shoulders so we both faced it.

“Dude,” I said, pointing at us. “We legit look like such typical twinks right now: getting drunk in our briefs, talking about sex…”

“Taking pics?” Carlos said, pulling out his phone from his waistband.

We posed together, angling our bodies appropriately, and flexing our muscles just enough to provide extra definition for the ‘gram.

“I’m sure our fans will love these,” Carlos said, prepping the photos for his Instagram story.

“Definitely,” I said, walking over to my backpack to get my outfit for the day.

I hadn’t expected mental changes to be included in the enchantment, but it seemed Carlos was quickly digressing into a stereotypical, airheaded bottom boi. I debated recording any of it as evidence, to show him whenever Diana was able to revert him back to his true body: payback for the tickle storm he inflicted on me earlier that morning.

As I slipped my white floral, lace shirt over my head, Carlos walked over to his suitcase to find something to wear.

“God,” he said, sighing. “I definitely wouldn’t have worn any of this before.”

“Wear the reflective shorts,” I said, stepping into a pair of white denim shorts. “With the matching micro mesh tank top. Now that’s a look.”

Pulling out the garments and laying them on the bed, Carlos turned to me.

“Damn, you’re good at this huh?”

“You already know,” I said, smirking.

As I tucked in my top, my phone began to ring: A FaceTime call from Chad.

“Chad’s calling me,” I said, straightening my shorts.

“Answer it,” Carlos said, still staring at his clothes.

Clicking **ACCEPT** on my phone, I sat down on the edge of my bed.

“Hi, baby,” I said, smiling softly.

“Hey, cutie,” Chad said, sitting at his desk. “Getting ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” I said, flipping the camera around so it showed me in the mirror. “Like the outfit?”

“Oh yeah,” Chad said, whistling. “You look sexy, baby boy.”

“Thank you, beautiful,” I said, flipping the camera back towards me. “Working today?”

“Yeah,” Chad said, sighing. “Just editing photos from this shoot I did yesterday. Oh, speaking of that. Dave called. He said he and Sean talked a bit and were thinking that you and Carlos should plan a meeting for the four of you all to sit down so you guys can discuss your options about working out a project you’d like to collaborate on. All the pictures you guys have been posting together at ‘Chella have the Internet freaking out.”

“Really?” Carlos said, across the room. He was staring down at his junk, pulling at the waistband to stare inside the pouch. He frowned a bit, before sighing and letting the elastic snap against his flat stomach.

“Is that Carlos?” Chad said, his perking up a bit.

“Oh my god,” I said, “Yeah! I forgot you guys haven’t even spoken to each other yet! Carlos, come say hi to Chad!”

Hopping over his bed, Carlos quickly sat next to me, flashing an enthusiastic smile and waving rapidly into the camera.

“Hi, Chad!”

“Hey, man!” Chad said, waving back. “Sorry to interrupt you getting ready.” He gestured to Carlos’, referring to his shirtless torso.

“No worries,” Carlos said, rubbing the back of his head, shyly. “Raul was just helping to pick out my outfit. I’ll be sure to post a full-body ASAP.”

“Yes!” Chad said, smiling. “And when you do, this goes for you too, Raul, you both should use the hashtag #YearOfTheTwink.”

“#YearOfTheTwink?” I said, laughing. “What the heck is that?”

“Hilarious, huh?” Chad said, also laughing. “It started trending yesterday, after a fan-made video edit of all the photos you guys have been posting together went viral. Dave and Sean think you guys should take advantage of it while it’s still hot.”

“Damn, Raul,” Carlos said, nudging my arm. “Every one loves us; the twinks.”

“Ha ha ha,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head, Carlos.”

The three of us laughed, and agreed that, no matter how silly it was, using the hashtag would definitely work in our favor considering how in-demand our festival pictures had been throughout the weekend.

“All right, boys,” Chad said. “I’ll let you both finish getting ready. Please be safe – no more molly, please, Raul?”

“Don’t worry, babe,” I said. “One night was definitely enough for me.” “ Not me!” Carlos said, hopping up from the bed and running towards his clothes. “No promises from this boy!”

“Just take care of each other!” Chad said.

“We will, we will,” I said. “I promise. I’ll text you when we’re leaving and when we get to the festival grounds.”

“Sounds good, baby boy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Chad,” I said, smiling ear to ear.

“I love you too!” Carlos said, yelling from the bathroom.

Chad chuckled before telling Carlos he loved him as well, and hung up.

“Okay, Raul,” Carlos said, strutting out of the bathroom, dramatically. His tank top hugged his light frame in all the right places, accentuating his toned arms and tight core, and the reflective shorts lifted his perky butt just right that my mouth dropped. “I’m gonna pour us one more drink, then let’s take pics, then let’s head for the shuttle.”

“You got it, big guy,” I said, biting my bottom lip.

Guess the fans were right: This was definitely going to be the #YearOfTheTwink.

–

Around 6 p.m., Carlos and I had found the best shaded spot we could possibly find to avoid the relentless sun that had been beating down on us. The weather the first two days was tolerable, but today was an absolute scorcher. I lost count how many times we visited the water refill station, and the little electronic fans we had bought in the VIP section were hardly making a difference.

Nevertheless, the day had been amazing so far: Carlos had completely devolved into his inner-bottom queen, sashaying and twirling around the festival grounds. He twerked in the DJ tent, vogued at the Outdoor Stage, and even got on top of a random dude’s shoulders during some Latin artists’ set.

“Fuck, Raul,” Carlos said, leaning his head on my shoulder. “If you would have told me I’d be living my best life looking like this…” He laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe what a blast today has been.”

“I know,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. “You’re taking this transformation really well.”

“See,” Carlos said, sitting up. “It’s honestly a bit of both; I’m having a good time, but I’m also still really upset. But, I don’t know, something is kind of just… compelling me away from that sadness. Like, I just feel like I’m supposed to be super giddy and, well, gay.”

“Yeah,” I said, understanding. “Well, to be honest with you, I think that’s also from the enchantment. Whoever did this, wanted us to be completely oblivious and turn into complete himbos. Luckily, you didn’t finish, so you’re more aware of what’s going on, and I didn’t eat anything at all.”

“Ah,” Carlos said, forcing a smile. “I guess that makes sense…”

Carlos pulled out his phone, scrolling through the dozens of pictures we had taken throughout the day. He smirked, opening a few in a photo-editing app, readying them for future posts, typing “#YearOfTheTwink” in boldface at the bottom of each.

“Let’s head to the bar,” Carlos said, finishing up his edits. “I could really go for a margarita right now.”

“Good idea,” I said, standing up. “We can go to the one we were at yesterday; the one with the dance floor.”

“Yessss,” Carlos said, his attitude perking back up. “Will you dance with me, Raul?”

“Of course, buddy,” I said, smacking his ass. “Race you there!”

I ran from the shade and towards the bar, about a couple hundred feet away. I turned back to look at Carlos, who was muttering under his breath about how I was a cheater and how cheaters never prosper.

We sprinted across the grass, catching the attention from bystanders who mostly all gave us disapproving looks.

“Not so fast, are you, little dude?” Carlos said, now running right by my side.

“Nope,” I said, panting a bit. “Cardio’s never been my thing.”

“Really?” Carlos said, inching a bit in front of me. “Would’ve figured it was… from the hours you spend riding Chad’s dick!”

With that, Carlos burst ahead, jet lining yards in front of me.

“Fuck off!” I said, gasping. “You petty ass bitch!”

I stopped running just outside the ID check, adjacent to the beer garden where our destination was located. I crouched over, resting my palms on my knees.

“That,” I said, attempting to catch my breath. “Was out of pocket.”

“Maybe,” Carlos said, giggling. “You gotta admit, though. It was hilarious!”

Extending his hand out towards me, Carlos helped me up to my feet and we walked into the beer garden. Carlos briefed me about my poor cardio practices, explaining putting my hands behind my head to catch my breath was more effective than crouching over. He also explained how important it was to keep moving even after you finished running.

“I used to be in track,” Carlos said. “I did hurdles, and sprints. Occasionally a long distance event, or relay. But the hurdles were my favorite. I loved gliding over those bars, and sailing to the end. I got a few medals, actually.”

“Damn, look at you, Mr. Athlete,” I said, teasing him.

“Yeah,” Carlos said, scoffing. “The rail thin, bean pole, you mean. No one at my school thought it was impressive. The pole-vaulters, though… that was another story. Those guys might as well been actual gods. It was probably because they had nice arms, and strong legs. The opposite of what I had in high school.”

“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. “And where are they now? Stuck in an office, probably. And you? An international model.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, smirking at me. “Guess I had the last laugh in the end, huh?”

As we entered the dance floor area, Carlos and I headed directly for the bar. Ordering us a couple vodka shots each, I raised a glass in the air.

“To our friendship, Carlos,” I said. “I wouldn’t have had such an amazing weekend without you.”

Carlos smiled, raising his glass up to mine.

“To my best friend, Raul,” he said. “Whom I am so appreciative I met and would be missing out on so much without.”

I frowned a bit, feeling emotional. We clicked our glasses, and downed our shots. I raised the next glass, and handed

Carlos his second shot in the process.

“To my best friend, Carlos,” I said, matching his toast.

Slurping the vodka down our throats, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Are you Raul Flores?” a man’s voice said.

I turned around, placing the shot glass on the bar counter.

“Yes,” I said, looking at the man before me. “That’s me.”

“Wow, it’s so cool to meet you,” the man, extending his hand. “My name’s Mark. I’m a big fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” I said, shaking his hand.

Mark continued to smile, resting his arm on the counter. He flexed his bicep, getting closer to my face. He was an attractive man: tan, muscular, and with emerald eyes. He was shirtless, wearing only tight, neon green swim shorts that hugged a sizable package and his thick legs, void of any hair.

“You here with anyone tonight?” Mark asked, grabbing my hand.

“Yeah,” I said, pulling my hand back. “I’m with my best friend.” I grabbed Carlos’ hand, pulling him close to me. “And my boyfriend couldn’t make it to the festival this year.”

“Ah, I see,” Mark said, standing up and shifting his gaze to Carlos. “And what’s your name, cutie?”

“Carlos,” Carlos said, openly checking out Mark from head to toe, resting on his bulge longer than anywhere else.

“Would you like to dance with me, Carlos?” Mark said, coyly.

I turned to look at Carlos, who was already starting to melt into me from being tipsy.

“I’d love to,” Carlos said, pulling me closer to Mark.

“Okay,” I said, taking the hint. “Let’s dance. But could you give Carlos and I just a minute, Mark? We’ll meet you right over there.”

I pointed a few feet away, at the edge of the dance floor. Mark nodded, walking to where I indicated, making sure to steal a few glances back at Carlos in the process.

“You sure you want to dance with him, Carlos?” I said, squeezing his hand. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah, Raul,” Carlos said, nodding. “Tipsy. But I’m good.” He smiled, licking his lips as he stared at Mark, waiting. “Fuck, he’s so hot.”

“Damn,” I said, chuckling. “Your fall from Studly Top to Twinky Bottom happened extremely quick.”

“Fuck off,” Carlos said, letting go off my hand and walking to the dance floor. “Who’s to say I’m a bottom? I can be verse.” He shook his ass to the rhythm of the music as he walked, glancing back at me to make sure I was following him.

“Sure,” I said, shaking my head. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

When we got to Mark, Carlos immediately grabbed his hand, pulling them both into the crowd. I followed suit, starting to gyrate my hips to the deep bass in the music: I bopped my head, and dipped my shoulders side to side, trying to loosen up while keeping Mark and Carlos in my sight.

The dance floor was packed with people who wanted to dance while also avoiding the sweltering heat from outside. Mark pulled Carlos against his hips, grinding against him as they danced back and forth. Carlos pushed himself back into Mark, smiling at me in the process.

Before long, the two were making out as I continued to try to get into the mood. Just when I thought I was getting there, Carlos whispered into my ear:

“Okay, fine,” he said. “You win. Maybe I just want to feel him inside me. Fight me.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, smiling.

“We already know, Carlos,” I said, gesturing to the people dance. “We all do.”

“Shut up!” Carlos said, punching my arm.

“Baby,” Mark said, pulling Carlos’ face to his. He pressed his lips against Carlos, moaning.

Not wanting to be caught staring, I turned my attention to the DJ playing in the booth on the other end of the space. His setup was pretty impressive: a hovering turntable and a stage suspended about 20 feet off the ground. He wore his headphones slanted on top of his head and his hands continued to mix the songs at a rapid pace.

I closed my eyes, finally enjoying the music and letting myself give in to my rhythm.

“Mark,” Carlos said, suddenly.

I opened my eyes, looking over at the two. Mark had his hand on Carlos’ ass, and was pushing their bodies tightly together. Carlos had his hand on Mark’s bare chest; his head pulled back a bit.

“Mark, wait,” Carlos said, repeating himself. “You’re going a little too fast.”

“What do you mean,” Mark said, squeezing Carlos’ butt. “I don’t think we’re going fast enough.”

“Seriously, Mark,” Carlos said, squirming in the larger man’s grasp. “Stop.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” Mark said, sneering. “You know you want this, inside this.” Mark placed Carlos’ hand over his swollen groin, while squeezing his free hand on Carlos’ ass.

“Dude,” I said, standing next to Carlos. “He said to stop.”

“Fuck off, Raul,” Mark said, snapping at me and pulling Carlos even closer. “You blew your chance. Go call your boyfriend and mind your own business.”

“Mark,” Carlos said, begging. “Please stop.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Mark said, leaning down to kiss Carlos.

“He said STOP!” I said, yelling.

I snapped my fingers, focusing on Mark. The room grew still as time paused itself around the three of us.  

“What’s,” Mark said, stiffening up. “What’s happening? Why can’t I move?”

I removed Mark’s hands from Carlos and pulled my friend away.

“Thank you, Raul,” Carlos said, shivering.

“Of course,” I said, still staring at Mark. “I’m sorry this motherfucker can’t take no for an answer.”

“What did you do to me, you faggot,” Mark said, snarling.

“Just prepping you for what you deserve, asshole,” I said, grabbing Mark’s hands. I placed one over his bulge, and other over his ass.

“I swear guys like you think you can just do whatever you want,” I said, adjusting his hands further, making sure his package was nearly entirely covered by his palm and his back hand was about in the center of his ass. “You think, ‘I have this huge cock, so I can fuck anything I want.’ Well, guess what, Mark? You can’t.”

“What’re you going to do, Raul?” Carlos said, shifting uneasily.

“You’ll see,” I said, grinning to myself.

“Please,” Mark said, realizing the situation he was in. “I’m sorry. I’ll just leave and-“

“And what, Mark?” I said, shaking my head. “Do this to someone else? I don’t think so. I think you need… a little adjustments.”

I took my index and middle finger and pressed gently into the center of each of Mark’s hands before removing them from his body. I let his arms dangle listlessly at his side.

“Please,” Mark said, pleading. “I’ll…”

“Holy shit…” Carlos said, his eyes widening.

“Mhmmm,” I said, covering my mouth as I laughed.

The front of Mark’s shorts began to flatten rapidly, while the seat began to expand at the same rate. The quicker his bulge deflated, the quicker his ass expanded.

“See, Mark,” I said, crossing my arms. “I don’t think you’re a very keen in the topping department. You seem like a hungry bottom to me. Yeah, that’s what you are, huh? Just a hungry, effeminate bottom boi trapped in the body of a muscular, tall, masc man. That’s why your kink is getting fucked by small twinks, isn’t it? You love feeling their small bodies pressed against your fat ass, as you stroke your, what is that? Like, 3 inches?”

Mark gasped as he slowly regained some movement in his body. He yanked his shorts down and yelped as he saw the truth. The 9-inch cock he boasted about for the past 10 years was now a thin, tiny, throbbing rod. He turned around, his eyes widening at his fat, bouncy cheeks, shivering at their newfound sensitivity.

“Noooo,” he said, whining. “Give me back my cock! I’m not some bottom slut; I’m a power top!”

“Not anymore, hot shot,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “If I were you, I’d pull up your shorts before you get kicked out.”

Mark stared at me, helplessly. He pressed his lips against each other before begrudgingly pulling his shorts back over his ass. He shut his eyes tightly feeling the fabric stretch across his backside while the fabric in the front hung loose; not a trace of a mound to be found.

“Enjoy,” I said, snapping my fingers.

Mark’s eyes lit up, as he began to shake his ass behind him.

“Carlos!” he said, gleefully. “Get behind me; I want to feel your dick against me right now.”

Carlos’ mouth dropped, processing the complete 360 Mark was exhibiting at the moment.

“Actually, Mark,” I said, grabbing Carlos’ hand. “I think we’re gonna head out. It’s been a long weekend.”

“Aww, no, you guys!” Mark said, pouting. “We were having so much fun!”

“We were,” I said, nodding. “But, we really should get back to our hotel.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mark said, prancing away. Within seconds, he was already dancing next to a thin man donned in a crop top and short shorts.

“You wanna head out of here?” I said, looking at Carlos.

He stared at me, silently, before nodding slowly.

Carlos and I walked to the nearest exit of the beer garden and headed towards the shuttles. We walked in silence, Carlos refusing to make eye contact with me.

I looked at him, worriedly. Maybe I overdid it a bit with Mark…

As we got closer to the shuttle zone, Carlos turned to me.

“How often do you do that?” he said, softly.

“Transform people?” I asked, nervously.

“Yeah,” he said, looking forward once again.

“To be honest,” I said, sighing, “This weekend is the first time I’ve done anything since the end of last year. Before that, I wasn’t transforming anyone too often. It started with Chad: he was thin too, when we first started dating. He was beautiful. But, like you, he was self-conscious. Always trying to put on weight, never really succeeding. I was head over heels in love with him. I went out on a limb and told him the truth. Well, I showed him the truth, at first. I regressed him back to a time before he started working out…”

“Why would you do that,” Carlos said, squinting at me.

“To show him I didn’t care what he looked like,” I said. “It didn’t matter to me if he was the scrawniest man, the fattest man, the fittest man… nothing like that ever mattered to me when it came to Chad. I loved him. I just wanted to be with him.”

We got into the back of the shuttle line; Carlos still looking at me, uneasy.

“I explained everything to him; my family, my specialty, who I was. I changed him back, and then I asked him what he wanted. I told him I could give him his dream body. So I did, because that’s what he always wanted.”

I sighed, looking at Carlos; his face unreadable.

“He was my first,” I said. “After Chad, I’ve only transformed a handful of people. This weekend has genuinely been the most I’ve ever changed in a small period of time. I don’t do this often. But, like I explained at the hotel…”

“The arrangement,” Carlos said, nodding as he looked down at the ground.

“Exactly,” I said, smiling lightly. “I’m trying to help people, Carlos. I really am.”

I looked behind us, noticing a larger man yelling at a muscular man running away laughing. The larger man was grabbing his shorts, now down at his ankles, attempting to hide his flaccid penis.

“We humans kind of suck, huh,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” I said. “But, watch.”

I rubbed my fingers together, letting the world pause once again; this time, only allowing Carlos and I to be the aware ones.

“Like you,” I said, focusing on the fat dude and the immature jock, “I can’t stand bullies. I can’t stand people who take advantage of others. I can’t stand people who don’t deserve to have the power or authority they clearly shouldn’t have.”

The young jock, wearing his floral button up and jeans, began to inflate. His muscles plumped up with juicy pounds of fat, leaving him looking more like an ex-jock at the untimely age of 23. His toned abs softened into a lazy, un-worked gut, while the tone in his arms and legs vanished until it looked like he hadn’t lifted weights of any kind since he graduated from high school nearly 5 years prior.

“And on the other side of things,” I said, motioning to the larger man, “I sympathize with those who deserve to have the confidence the bullies have, but feel like they can’t have. I root for the underdogs who think they’re too timid. I want to give them the strength they crave, because they’re the people who will make your world a better place.”

The tank top on the fat dude began to loosen up as the fat melted from his body. His legs, previously chubby and largely shapeless, began to tone up, reforming into toned thighs. His 2-inch flaccid prick grew and thickened to an impressive 7 inches soft. His chest developed in a set of healthy pectorals and his arms enlarged to a size greater than what the jock used to sport.

I rubbed my fingers back together, prompting time to move forward again.

“Really, dude?” the muscular man said, yelling at the chubby man running away. He pulled his shorts up, garnering a few whistles from both men and women checking out his cock.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” the ex-jock’s girlfriend said, smacking him in his pillowy gut. “That’s it. I’m over your immaturity. I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt; accept you, even without the muscles you had when we graduated. But, no. Now, you’re too insecure to let another man fucking walk around in peace because you’re jealous of his body. We’re through, Steve.”

“Wait!” Steve said, his double chin shaking as his chased after his now ex-girlfriend. “Emily, wait!”

“I know this is a lot to take in,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand once more as he stared at the two swapped men, his mouth agape a bit. “But, trust me, Carlos. I’m really just trying to help.”

Carlos stared at the two men a little longer before turning his gaze to me. He sighed, before placing his hands on his hips, smiling.

“I get it, Raul,” he said.

“You do?” I said, slightly surprised.

“I do,” he said, before smacking me on the ass. “You’re right – this is a bit overwhelming. I mean, this morning I was almost 200 pounds for god’s sake, and now I’m nearly a 100 pounds lighter. My dick has shrunk to half its size, and, to be completely blunt with you, I can’t stop thinking about riding someone’s dick, and I’ve never thought that in my entire life.”

I laughed, shaking my head. At least throughout all this, Carlos’ honesty never wavered a bit.

“But I really do get it, Raul,” he said, continuing. “You’re using your powers for the best. And that’s honestly more than I’m sure many others of your kind can say.”

“It is, Carlos,” I said, relieved. “It really is. That’s why all these messy things have been happening to me over the past few months. They all want me to fail and lose everything. They can’t stand seeing me trying to help both our worlds.”

“Well, at least you have Diana helping you,” Carlos said.

“You’re right,” I said, nodding. I wondered if she had made any progress. I decided to give her a call once we got back to the hotel room.

“And you have Chad,” he continued. “And now, me.”

“Yeah?” I said, smiling.

“Of course, little dude,” Carlos said, sticking to the nickname he had given me back on Friday. “What are best friends for if they don’t stick with you, through thick and thin?”

I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him as tightly as I could.

“You’re right, Carlos,” I said, placing my chin on his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too.”

A shuttle bus approached shortly after, stopping just a few feet ahead of us.

“C’mon,” Carlos said, motioning to the now open shuttle doors. “Let’s get back to the room and see if Diana found out who fucked up my body.”

“Okay,” I said, chuckling. “It’s not fucked up though. Like I said, you’re hot.”

“All right,” Carlos said, stepping up the shuttle steps. “Maybe I’m starting to like this body. But, you better hope Diana can change me back, or else you’re going to be stuck letting me borrow all your clothes and teaching me how to ride dick for hours on end.”

“Fuck off,” I said, rolling my eyes, heading down the shuttle bus aisle behind Carlos.

“Hey,” Carlos said, throwing his hands in the air as he took a seat. “I’m just saying: You better hope this is reversible.”

I sat down beside Carlos, resting my head on his shoulder.

I really hoped it was too.

[thegreatstoryteller]

I’m really loving this series. It combines transformation with body positivity!

[thefateofdesire]

Thanks so much for the love! I really wanted to try to do something a little different with this series & while I’m sure it may not be for everyone, I hope everyone that’s given it a shot has enjoyed it ❤️

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 3 - Continued

“Holy fuck, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice beginning to slur. “I’m such a lightweight now.”

I laughed at my friend, still standing in only his briefs. In his right hand, he held a red plastic cup that previously contained a double shot of vodka – the second we had downed in the past half hour.

“No worries,” I said, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “I’ve been in this body for 4 months now and I’m still not used to how little it takes for me to get drunk.”

“But,” Raul said, walking over to the closet door mirror. “I mean… I’m drunk!” He threw his hands upwards, laughing to himself.

“All right, big guy,” I said, grabbing the red cup from his hand. “In that case, let’s switch to water for now. We have to hurry get ready and head to the festival grounds. We should try to leave by noon.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, nodding. He stared at his reflection, turning his hips so his ass faced the glass. “No offense, but if it were possible for me to top myself… I’d definitely bang this ass.”

I fell down on the bed, covering my mouth to prevent making too much noise.

“Jesus Christ, Carlos,” I said, talking through my hand. “Horny much?”

“What, like you wouldn’t?” he said, turning to look at me.

I stared at him, still chuckling. He had a point. The new Carlos had one of the most fuckable asses I had ever seen. Just round enough to fit into the “bubble butt” category, mixed with the perfect amount of fat, and a bit of muscle. Carlos smacked his right cheek, watching it jiggle.

“Damn,” he said, smacking the other side.

I walked up to the mirror, grabbing his shoulders so we both faced it.

“Dude,” I said, pointing at us. “We legit look like such typical twinks right now: getting drunk in our briefs, talking about sex…”

“Taking pics?” Carlos said, pulling out his phone from his waistband.

We posed together, angling our bodies appropriately, and flexing our muscles just enough to provide extra definition for the ‘gram.

“I’m sure our fans will love these,” Carlos said, prepping the photos for his Instagram story.

“Definitely,” I said, walking over to my backpack to get my outfit for the day.

I hadn’t expected mental changes to be included in the enchantment, but it seemed Carlos was quickly digressing into a stereotypical, airheaded bottom boi. I debated recording any of it as evidence, to show him whenever Diana was able to revert him back to his true body: payback for the tickle storm he inflicted on me earlier that morning.

As I slipped my white floral, lace shirt over my head, Carlos walked over to his suitcase to find something to wear.

“God,” he said, sighing. “I definitely wouldn’t have worn any of this before.”

“Wear the reflective shorts,” I said, stepping into a pair of white denim shorts. “With the matching micro mesh tank top. Now that’s a look.”

Pulling out the garments and laying them on the bed, Carlos turned to me.

“Damn, you’re good at this huh?”

“You already know,” I said, smirking.

As I tucked in my top, my phone began to ring: A FaceTime call from Chad.

“Chad’s calling me,” I said, straightening my shorts.

“Answer it,” Carlos said, still staring at his clothes.

Clicking **ACCEPT** on my phone, I sat down on the edge of my bed.

“Hi, baby,” I said, smiling softly.

“Hey, cutie,” Chad said, sitting at his desk. “Getting ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” I said, flipping the camera around so it showed me in the mirror. “Like the outfit?”

“Oh yeah,” Chad said, whistling. “You look sexy, baby boy.”

“Thank you, beautiful,” I said, flipping the camera back towards me. “Working today?”

“Yeah,” Chad said, sighing. “Just editing photos from this shoot I did yesterday. Oh, speaking of that. Dave called. He said he and Sean talked a bit and were thinking that you and Carlos should plan a meeting for the four of you all to sit down so you guys can discuss your options about working out a project you’d like to collaborate on. All the pictures you guys have been posting together at ‘Chella have the Internet freaking out.”

“Really?” Carlos said, across the room. He was staring down at his junk, pulling at the waistband to stare inside the pouch. He frowned a bit, before sighing and letting the elastic snap against his flat stomach.

“Is that Carlos?” Chad said, his perking up a bit.

“Oh my god,” I said, “Yeah! I forgot you guys haven’t even spoken to each other yet! Carlos, come say hi to Chad!”

Hopping over his bed, Carlos quickly sat next to me, flashing an enthusiastic smile and waving rapidly into the camera.

“Hi, Chad!”

“Hey, man!” Chad said, waving back. “Sorry to interrupt you getting ready.” He gestured to Carlos’, referring to his shirtless torso.

“No worries,” Carlos said, rubbing the back of his head, shyly. “Raul was just helping to pick out my outfit. I’ll be sure to post a full-body ASAP.”

“Yes!” Chad said, smiling. “And when you do, this goes for you too, Raul, you both should use the hashtag #YearOfTheTwink.”

“#YearOfTheTwink?” I said, laughing. “What the heck is that?”

“Hilarious, huh?” Chad said, also laughing. “It started trending yesterday, after a fan-made video edit of all the photos you guys have been posting together went viral. Dave and Sean think you guys should take advantage of it while it’s still hot.”

“Damn, Raul,” Carlos said, nudging my arm. “Every one loves us; the twinks.”

“Ha ha ha,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head, Carlos.”

The three of us laughed, and agreed that, no matter how silly it was, using the hashtag would definitely work in our favor considering how in-demand our festival pictures had been throughout the weekend.

“All right, boys,” Chad said. “I’ll let you both finish getting ready. Please be safe – no more molly, please, Raul?”

“Don’t worry, babe,” I said. “One night was definitely enough for me.” “ Not me!” Carlos said, hopping up from the bed and running towards his clothes. “No promises from this boy!”

“Just take care of each other!” Chad said.

“We will, we will,” I said. “I promise. I’ll text you when we’re leaving and when we get to the festival grounds.”

“Sounds good, baby boy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Chad,” I said, smiling ear to ear.

“I love you too!” Carlos said, yelling from the bathroom.

Chad chuckled before telling Carlos he loved him as well, and hung up.

“Okay, Raul,” Carlos said, strutting out of the bathroom, dramatically. His tank top hugged his light frame in all the right places, accentuating his toned arms and tight core, and the reflective shorts lifted his perky butt just right that my mouth dropped. “I’m gonna pour us one more drink, then let’s take pics, then let’s head for the shuttle.”

“You got it, big guy,” I said, biting my bottom lip.

Guess the fans were right: This was definitely going to be the #YearOfTheTwink.

--

Around 6 p.m., Carlos and I had found the best shaded spot we could possibly find to avoid the relentless sun that had been beating down on us. The weather the first two days was tolerable, but today was an absolute scorcher. I lost count how many times we visited the water refill station, and the little electronic fans we had bought in the VIP section were hardly making a difference.

Nevertheless, the day had been amazing so far: Carlos had completely devolved into his inner-bottom queen, sashaying and twirling around the festival grounds. He twerked in the DJ tent, vogued at the Outdoor Stage, and even got on top of a random dude’s shoulders during some Latin artists’ set.

“Fuck, Raul,” Carlos said, leaning his head on my shoulder. “If you would have told me I’d be living my best life looking like this…” He laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe what a blast today has been.”

“I know,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. “You’re taking this transformation really well.”

“See,” Carlos said, sitting up. “It’s honestly a bit of both; I’m having a good time, but I’m also still really upset. But, I don’t know, something is kind of just… compelling me away from that sadness. Like, I just feel like I’m supposed to be super giddy and, well, gay.”

“Yeah,” I said, understanding. “Well, to be honest with you, I think that’s also from the enchantment. Whoever did this, wanted us to be completely oblivious and turn into complete himbos. Luckily, you didn’t finish, so you’re more aware of what’s going on, and I didn’t eat anything at all.”

“Ah,” Carlos said, forcing a smile. “I guess that makes sense…”

Carlos pulled out his phone, scrolling through the dozens of pictures we had taken throughout the day. He smirked, opening a few in a photo-editing app, readying them for future posts, typing “#YearOfTheTwink” in boldface at the bottom of each.

“Let’s head to the bar,” Carlos said, finishing up his edits. “I could really go for a margarita right now.”

“Good idea,” I said, standing up. “We can go to the one we were at yesterday; the one with the dance floor.”

“Yessss,” Carlos said, his attitude perking back up. “Will you dance with me, Raul?”

“Of course, buddy,” I said, smacking his ass. “Race you there!”

I ran from the shade and towards the bar, about a couple hundred feet away. I turned back to look at Carlos, who was muttering under his breath about how I was a cheater and how cheaters never prosper.

We sprinted across the grass, catching the attention from bystanders who mostly all gave us disapproving looks.

“Not so fast, are you, little dude?” Carlos said, now running right by my side.

“Nope,” I said, panting a bit. “Cardio’s never been my thing.”

“Really?” Carlos said, inching a bit in front of me. “Would’ve figured it was… from the hours you spend riding Chad’s dick!”

With that, Carlos burst ahead, jet lining yards in front of me.

“Fuck off!” I said, gasping. “You petty ass bitch!”

I stopped running just outside the ID check, adjacent to the beer garden where our destination was located. I crouched over, resting my palms on my knees.

“That,” I said, attempting to catch my breath. “Was out of pocket.”

“Maybe,” Carlos said, giggling. “You gotta admit, though. It was hilarious!”

Extending his hand out towards me, Carlos helped me up to my feet and we walked into the beer garden. Carlos briefed me about my poor cardio practices, explaining putting my hands behind my head to catch my breath was more effective than crouching over. He also explained how important it was to keep moving even after you finished running.

“I used to be in track,” Carlos said. “I did hurdles, and sprints. Occasionally a long distance event, or relay. But the hurdles were my favorite. I loved gliding over those bars, and sailing to the end. I got a few medals, actually.”

“Damn, look at you, Mr. Athlete,” I said, teasing him.

“Yeah,” Carlos said, scoffing. “The rail thin, bean pole, you mean. No one at my school thought it was impressive. The pole-vaulters, though… that was another story. Those guys might as well been actual gods. It was probably because they had nice arms, and strong legs. The opposite of what I had in high school.”

“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. “And where are they now? Stuck in an office, probably. And you? An international model.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, smirking at me. “Guess I had the last laugh in the end, huh?”

As we entered the dance floor area, Carlos and I headed directly for the bar. Ordering us a couple vodka shots each, I raised a glass in the air.

“To our friendship, Carlos,” I said. “I wouldn’t have had such an amazing weekend without you.”

Carlos smiled, raising his glass up to mine.

“To my best friend, Raul,” he said. “Whom I am so appreciative I met and would be missing out on so much without.”

I frowned a bit, feeling emotional. We clicked our glasses, and downed our shots. I raised the next glass, and handed

Carlos his second shot in the process.

“To my best friend, Carlos,” I said, matching his toast.

Slurping the vodka down our throats, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Are you Raul Flores?” a man’s voice said.

I turned around, placing the shot glass on the bar counter.

“Yes,” I said, looking at the man before me. “That’s me.”

“Wow, it’s so cool to meet you,” the man, extending his hand. “My name’s Mark. I’m a big fan.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” I said, shaking his hand.

Mark continued to smile, resting his arm on the counter. He flexed his bicep, getting closer to my face. He was an attractive man: tan, muscular, and with emerald eyes. He was shirtless, wearing only tight, neon green swim shorts that hugged a sizable package and his thick legs, void of any hair.

“You here with anyone tonight?” Mark asked, grabbing my hand.

“Yeah,” I said, pulling my hand back. “I’m with my best friend.” I grabbed Carlos’ hand, pulling him close to me. “And my boyfriend couldn’t make it to the festival this year.”

“Ah, I see,” Mark said, standing up and shifting his gaze to Carlos. “And what’s your name, cutie?”

“Carlos,” Carlos said, openly checking out Mark from head to toe, resting on his bulge longer than anywhere else.

“Would you like to dance with me, Carlos?” Mark said, coyly.

I turned to look at Carlos, who was already starting to melt into me from being tipsy.

“I’d love to,” Carlos said, pulling me closer to Mark.

“Okay,” I said, taking the hint. “Let’s dance. But could you give Carlos and I just a minute, Mark? We’ll meet you right over there.”

I pointed a few feet away, at the edge of the dance floor. Mark nodded, walking to where I indicated, making sure to steal a few glances back at Carlos in the process.

“You sure you want to dance with him, Carlos?” I said, squeezing his hand. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah, Raul,” Carlos said, nodding. “Tipsy. But I’m good.” He smiled, licking his lips as he stared at Mark, waiting. “Fuck, he’s so hot.”

“Damn,” I said, chuckling. “Your fall from Studly Top to Twinky Bottom happened extremely quick.”

“Fuck off,” Carlos said, letting go off my hand and walking to the dance floor. “Who’s to say I’m a bottom? I can be verse.” He shook his ass to the rhythm of the music as he walked, glancing back at me to make sure I was following him.

“Sure,” I said, shaking my head. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

When we got to Mark, Carlos immediately grabbed his hand, pulling them both into the crowd. I followed suit, starting to gyrate my hips to the deep bass in the music: I bopped my head, and dipped my shoulders side to side, trying to loosen up while keeping Mark and Carlos in my sight.

The dance floor was packed with people who wanted to dance while also avoiding the sweltering heat from outside. Mark pulled Carlos against his hips, grinding against him as they danced back and forth. Carlos pushed himself back into Mark, smiling at me in the process.

Before long, the two were making out as I continued to try to get into the mood. Just when I thought I was getting there, Carlos whispered into my ear:

“Okay, fine,” he said. “You win. Maybe I just want to feel him inside me. Fight me.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, smiling.

“We already know, Carlos,” I said, gesturing to the people dance. “We all do.”

“Shut up!” Carlos said, punching my arm.

“Baby,” Mark said, pulling Carlos’ face to his. He pressed his lips against Carlos, moaning.

Not wanting to be caught staring, I turned my attention to the DJ playing in the booth on the other end of the space. His setup was pretty impressive: a hovering turntable and a stage suspended about 20 feet off the ground. He wore his headphones slanted on top of his head and his hands continued to mix the songs at a rapid pace.

I closed my eyes, finally enjoying the music and letting myself give in to my rhythm.

“Mark,” Carlos said, suddenly.

I opened my eyes, looking over at the two. Mark had his hand on Carlos’ ass, and was pushing their bodies tightly together. Carlos had his hand on Mark’s bare chest; his head pulled back a bit.

“Mark, wait,” Carlos said, repeating himself. “You’re going a little too fast.”

“What do you mean,” Mark said, squeezing Carlos’ butt. “I don’t think we’re going fast enough.”

“Seriously, Mark,” Carlos said, squirming in the larger man’s grasp. “Stop.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” Mark said, sneering. “You know you want this, inside this.” Mark placed Carlos’ hand over his swollen groin, while squeezing his free hand on Carlos’ ass.

“Dude,” I said, standing next to Carlos. “He said to stop.”

“Fuck off, Raul,” Mark said, snapping at me and pulling Carlos even closer. “You blew your chance. Go call your boyfriend and mind your own business.”

“Mark,” Carlos said, begging. “Please stop.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Mark said, leaning down to kiss Carlos.

“He said STOP!” I said, yelling.

I snapped my fingers, focusing on Mark. The room grew still as time paused itself around the three of us.  

“What’s,” Mark said, stiffening up. “What’s happening? Why can’t I move?”

I removed Mark’s hands from Carlos and pulled my friend away.

“Thank you, Raul,” Carlos said, shivering.

“Of course,” I said, still staring at Mark. “I’m sorry this motherfucker can’t take no for an answer.”

“What did you do to me, you faggot,” Mark said, snarling.

“Just prepping you for what you deserve, asshole,” I said, grabbing Mark’s hands. I placed one over his bulge, and other over his ass.

“I swear guys like you think you can just do whatever you want,” I said, adjusting his hands further, making sure his package was nearly entirely covered by his palm and his back hand was about in the center of his ass. “You think, ‘I have this huge cock, so I can fuck anything I want.’ Well, guess what, Mark? You can’t.”

“What’re you going to do, Raul?” Carlos said, shifting uneasily.

“You’ll see,” I said, grinning to myself.

“Please,” Mark said, realizing the situation he was in. “I’m sorry. I’ll just leave and-“

“And what, Mark?” I said, shaking my head. “Do this to someone else? I don’t think so. I think you need… a little adjustments.”

I took my index and middle finger and pressed gently into the center of each of Mark’s hands before removing them from his body. I let his arms dangle listlessly at his side.

“Please,” Mark said, pleading. “I’ll…”

“Holy shit…” Carlos said, his eyes widening.

“Mhmmm,” I said, covering my mouth as I laughed.

The front of Mark’s shorts began to flatten rapidly, while the seat began to expand at the same rate. The quicker his bulge deflated, the quicker his ass expanded.

“See, Mark,” I said, crossing my arms. “I don’t think you’re a very keen in the topping department. You seem like a hungry bottom to me. Yeah, that’s what you are, huh? Just a hungry, effeminate bottom boi trapped in the body of a muscular, tall, masc man. That’s why your kink is getting fucked by small twinks, isn’t it? You love feeling their small bodies pressed against your fat ass, as you stroke your, what is that? Like, 3 inches?”

Mark gasped as he slowly regained some movement in his body. He yanked his shorts down and yelped as he saw the truth. The 9-inch cock he boasted about for the past 10 years was now a thin, tiny, throbbing rod. He turned around, his eyes widening at his fat, bouncy cheeks, shivering at their newfound sensitivity.

“Noooo,” he said, whining. “Give me back my cock! I’m not some bottom slut; I’m a power top!”

“Not anymore, hot shot,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “If I were you, I’d pull up your shorts before you get kicked out.”

Mark stared at me, helplessly. He pressed his lips against each other before begrudgingly pulling his shorts back over his ass. He shut his eyes tightly feeling the fabric stretch across his backside while the fabric in the front hung loose; not a trace of a mound to be found.

“Enjoy,” I said, snapping my fingers.

Mark’s eyes lit up, as he began to shake his ass behind him.

“Carlos!” he said, gleefully. “Get behind me; I want to feel your dick against me right now.”

Carlos’ mouth dropped, processing the complete 360 Mark was exhibiting at the moment.

“Actually, Mark,” I said, grabbing Carlos’ hand. “I think we’re gonna head out. It’s been a long weekend.”

“Aww, no, you guys!” Mark said, pouting. “We were having so much fun!”

“We were,” I said, nodding. “But, we really should get back to our hotel.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mark said, prancing away. Within seconds, he was already dancing next to a thin man donned in a crop top and short shorts.

“You wanna head out of here?” I said, looking at Carlos.

He stared at me, silently, before nodding slowly.

Carlos and I walked to the nearest exit of the beer garden and headed towards the shuttles. We walked in silence, Carlos refusing to make eye contact with me.

I looked at him, worriedly. Maybe I overdid it a bit with Mark…

As we got closer to the shuttle zone, Carlos turned to me.

“How often do you do that?” he said, softly.

“Transform people?” I asked, nervously.

“Yeah,” he said, looking forward once again.

“To be honest,” I said, sighing, “This weekend is the first time I’ve done anything since the end of last year. Before that, I wasn’t transforming anyone too often. It started with Chad: he was thin too, when we first started dating. He was beautiful. But, like you, he was self-conscious. Always trying to put on weight, never really succeeding. I was head over heels in love with him. I went out on a limb and told him the truth. Well, I showed him the truth, at first. I regressed him back to a time before he started working out…”

“Why would you do that,” Carlos said, squinting at me.

“To show him I didn’t care what he looked like,” I said. “It didn’t matter to me if he was the scrawniest man, the fattest man, the fittest man… nothing like that ever mattered to me when it came to Chad. I loved him. I just wanted to be with him.”

We got into the back of the shuttle line; Carlos still looking at me, uneasy.

“I explained everything to him; my family, my specialty, who I was. I changed him back, and then I asked him what he wanted. I told him I could give him his dream body. So I did, because that’s what he always wanted.”

I sighed, looking at Carlos; his face unreadable.

“He was my first,” I said. “After Chad, I’ve only transformed a handful of people. This weekend has genuinely been the most I’ve ever changed in a small period of time. I don’t do this often. But, like I explained at the hotel…”

“The arrangement,” Carlos said, nodding as he looked down at the ground.

“Exactly,” I said, smiling lightly. “I’m trying to help people, Carlos. I really am.”

I looked behind us, noticing a larger man yelling at a muscular man running away laughing. The larger man was grabbing his shorts, now down at his ankles, attempting to hide his flaccid penis.

“We humans kind of suck, huh,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” I said. “But, watch.”

I rubbed my fingers together, letting the world pause once again; this time, only allowing Carlos and I to be the aware ones.

“Like you,” I said, focusing on the fat dude and the immature jock, “I can’t stand bullies. I can’t stand people who take advantage of others. I can’t stand people who don’t deserve to have the power or authority they clearly shouldn’t have.”

The young jock, wearing his floral button up and jeans, began to inflate. His muscles plumped up with juicy pounds of fat, leaving him looking more like an ex-jock at the untimely age of 23. His toned abs softened into a lazy, un-worked gut, while the tone in his arms and legs vanished until it looked like he hadn’t lifted weights of any kind since he graduated from high school nearly 5 years prior.

“And on the other side of things,” I said, motioning to the larger man, “I sympathize with those who deserve to have the confidence the bullies have, but feel like they can’t have. I root for the underdogs who think they’re too timid. I want to give them the strength they crave, because they’re the people who will make your world a better place.”

The tank top on the fat dude began to loosen up as the fat melted from his body. His legs, previously chubby and largely shapeless, began to tone up, reforming into toned thighs. His 2-inch flaccid prick grew and thickened to an impressive 7 inches soft. His chest developed in a set of healthy pectorals and his arms enlarged to a size greater than what the jock used to sport.

I rubbed my fingers back together, prompting time to move forward again.

“Really, dude?” the muscular man said, yelling at the chubby man running away. He pulled his shorts up, garnering a few whistles from both men and women checking out his cock.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” the ex-jock’s girlfriend said, smacking him in his pillowy gut. “That’s it. I’m over your immaturity. I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt; accept you, even without the muscles you had when we graduated. But, no. Now, you’re too insecure to let another man fucking walk around in peace because you’re jealous of his body. We’re through, Steve.”

“Wait!” Steve said, his double chin shaking as his chased after his now ex-girlfriend. “Emily, wait!”

“I know this is a lot to take in,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand once more as he stared at the two swapped men, his mouth agape a bit. “But, trust me, Carlos. I’m really just trying to help.”

Carlos stared at the two men a little longer before turning his gaze to me. He sighed, before placing his hands on his hips, smiling.

“I get it, Raul,” he said.

“You do?” I said, slightly surprised.

“I do,” he said, before smacking me on the ass. “You’re right – this is a bit overwhelming. I mean, this morning I was almost 200 pounds for god’s sake, and now I’m nearly a 100 pounds lighter. My dick has shrunk to half its size, and, to be completely blunt with you, I can’t stop thinking about riding someone’s dick, and I’ve never thought that in my entire life.”

I laughed, shaking my head. At least throughout all this, Carlos’ honesty never wavered a bit.

“But I really do get it, Raul,” he said, continuing. “You’re using your powers for the best. And that’s honestly more than I’m sure many others of your kind can say.”

“It is, Carlos,” I said, relieved. “It really is. That’s why all these messy things have been happening to me over the past few months. They all want me to fail and lose everything. They can’t stand seeing me trying to help both our worlds.”

“Well, at least you have Diana helping you,” Carlos said.

“You’re right,” I said, nodding. I wondered if she had made any progress. I decided to give her a call once we got back to the hotel room.

“And you have Chad,” he continued. “And now, me.”

“Yeah?” I said, smiling.

“Of course, little dude,” Carlos said, sticking to the nickname he had given me back on Friday. “What are best friends for if they don’t stick with you, through thick and thin?”

I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him as tightly as I could.

“You’re right, Carlos,” I said, placing my chin on his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too.”

A shuttle bus approached shortly after, stopping just a few feet ahead of us.

“C’mon,” Carlos said, motioning to the now open shuttle doors. “Let’s get back to the room and see if Diana found out who fucked up my body.”

“Okay,” I said, chuckling. “It’s not fucked up though. Like I said, you’re hot.”

“All right,” Carlos said, stepping up the shuttle steps. “Maybe I’m starting to like this body. But, you better hope Diana can change me back, or else you’re going to be stuck letting me borrow all your clothes and teaching me how to ride dick for hours on end.”

“Fuck off,” I said, rolling my eyes, heading down the shuttle bus aisle behind Carlos.

“Hey,” Carlos said, throwing his hands in the air as he took a seat. “I’m just saying: You better hope this is reversible.”

I sat down beside Carlos, resting my head on his shoulder.

I really hoped it was too.

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 3

I shivered in the cool air, fog swirling around me. The area was dimly lit, fare from a few rays of moonlight creeping through the tree branches hanging above me.

“Hello?” I asked, walking forward slowly. My body shook as the sharp air stung my skin; I was dressed in only a pair of white briefs. My bare feet crushed the dry grass and leaves on the ground as I moved.

I scanned the area, searching for signs of where I was. All I could see for seemingly miles was the forest of dead, crooked trees, barren of any form of life. There were no light posts, no houses, and no animals. In fact, the only sound I could hear was my own footsteps and my soft breathing.

“You’re going to get what you deserve,” a voice said, suddenly.

I whipped my head around, trying to find the source of the voice. It was a distorted, low, growl, but then it shifted entirely.

“You deserved to be sentenced justly,” the voice said, now in a high-pitched wail.

Although the voices sounded completely different, I knew it was still the same person speaking.

“Who’s there?” I said, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I tightened my fists, readying my body into a defensive position. It had to be one of the warlocks that were angry that I got off on probation. Traditionalists in our world tended to go to great lengths to “preserve” their customs and prevent any form of liberal thought from seeping into their world.

Suddenly I saw Carlos standing out in front of me, also clad in only underwear. His eyes were shut, but his arms were tied above his head attached an invisible beam above his head.

“Carlos!” I said, yelling.

A large, shadowed hand materialized over Carlos’ torso, casting a dark, red hue over his body. It tensed up, looking more like a claw the closer it got to his skin.

“Don’t touch him,” I said, now sprinting as fast as I could to get to my friend.

The claw inched closer and closer, Carlos entirely oblivious to the danger he was in. He seemed be in a trance, completely motionless, completely defenseless.

“Stop!” I said.

But it was too late. The claw dug into Carlos’ meaty chest as he began to scream in agony. He writhed against the sharp nails of the creature assaulting him, his eyes suddenly flinging open in pain. His entire body tensed up and squirmed into violent spasms as a deep booming voice cackled throughout the entire forest.

Carlos let out a deafening scream as sweat began to pour down his body.

“Carlos!” I said, screaming. I stretched my arm out towards him, trying to make contact with his body.

“You will fail,” the voice said, laughing into the night.

–

My eyes shot open as I jolted up in bed. I was drenched in sweat, and I had thrown the sheets completely off myself in my sleep. The shorts I had worn last night stuck to my hips like glue, weighed down by the moisture of my perspiration.

“You okay, Raul?” Carlos said, sitting in the bed to my left.

I turned to him, my chest heaving up and down. I placed my hand over my heart, attempting to bring my breathing back to equilibrium.

Carlos stared at me, his eyes filled with concern. He had his sheets down just over his hips, his muscular torso gleaming in the faint sunlight through the window. He pulled his sheets back, revealing a pair of stripped blue and white boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

“Seriously,” Carlos said, striding over to my bedside. “You’ve been kind of bugging out since you took the molly. I’m really sorry – I shouldn’t have offered it to you.” He placed his hand on my leg as he sat beside me, pulling my sheets back onto the bed and covering us both.

“No,” I said, holding my throbbing head. “Other than this slight hangover, your drugs aren’t why I’ve been freaking out lately. I just have… a lot on my plate at the moment. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, squinting his eyes. He didn’t seem convinced. “Well, whatever you need, remember I’m here okay? You don’t have to deal with anything alone.” He stroked his hand over my left thigh, purposely avoiding going too high, staying closer to my knee.

I nodded my head, smiling, taking my right hand to place it over Carlos’.

“I’m sorry,” I said, again. “I don’t mean to be such a damn buzz kill.”

“Nah,” Carlos said, laughing. “You’re not a buzz kill. We might be a few years a part, but I kind of feel like your older brother. I want to protect you. I remember how easily overwhelmed I got when I was 21. I’ll do my best to help you get through whatever you’re going through.”

I held in a laugh at Carlos’ subconscious irony. He may be 25, but biologically I was still 28 – although I did prefer keeping my dream body around 24. I appreciated his gesture, though, even if it was both misplaced and mildly patronizing.

“Thanks, man,” I said, genuinely.

“No problem, little dude,” Carlos said, squeezing my knee.

I jumped slightly, generating a chuckle from Carlos.

“Oh?” he said, squeezing my knee once more.

“Stop, Carlos,” I said, giggling. “I’m kind of ticklish.”

“Oh, are you now?” Carlos said, repeating his actions a few more times.

“Seriously,” I said, trying to squirm away from the much stronger man, to little avail. “I hate getting tickled.”

“But,” Carlos said, squeezing slightly tighter and inching slightly closer to prevent me from moving. “Is it distracting you at all?”

“Yes,” I said, near hysterics. “Cause now I just want to fight you.”

“You?” Carlos said, a smile crossing his face. “Fight me? How well do you think that would work out, huh, little dude?”

I tried making a serious face to prove I meant it, but felt myself be betrayed by the increasingly high pitched giggles escaping my lips.

“Carlos,” I said, whining now. “Pleaseee. Okay, okay. I won’t fight you. You win, you win. Just please stoppp.”

I collapsed onto the bed as Carlos now rolled over on top of me, trying to find new areas he could torture me. The weight of his body against mine made me feel even more powerless than before. More awkward, I felt my small bulge against his muscular ass, making me feel even smaller than I usually did around him.

“You want me to stop?” Carlos said, poking at my sides and legs.

“Yes!” I said, nearly shouting as tears formed at the corners of my eyes.

“Awww, fine,” Carlos said, rolling off me. He got off the bed and adjusted his boxers before turning back to face me. He was panting, a little sweat forming in the crevice of his chest. “Feeling better now?”

Better? I scoffed. The sweat I woke up in felt like it only had gotten worse after Carlos’ torturous attack. I pulled the sheets back over my hips, trying to hide the involuntary semi that had formed throughout that ordeal.

“Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t you dare ever do that again.”

Carlos burst into a deep, baritone laugh; his hands now on his hips.

“Alright, alright,” he said, throwing his hands up in a guilty manner. “Maybe I got a little carried away. I won’t do it again.”

I rolled my eyes again before tossing my legs over the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, not entirely believing him. I grabbed my backpack from the corner of the room, taking out a pair of clean briefs and socks, and a small bag of bathroom amenities I had brought from my place. “I’m going to shower to get this sweat off me.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, grabbing the hotel room phone. “I’m gonna order some breakfast. You want anything?”

“Uh,” I said, racking my brain for anything that sounded appetizing. “I don’t know - just toast, eggs and orange juice. Lots of orange juice.” My hangover wasn’t awful, but it definitely didn’t feel great. OJ sounded delicious at the moment.

“Ayeee,” Carlos said, punching the room service button. “Good idea – hydration, and… mimosas.”

I laughed as I shut the bathroom door behind me. I grabbed my phone from the outlet near the sink, where I had left it the night before.

After the festival last night, Carlos and I proceeded to keep drinking, lasting until nearly 3:30 a.m. I went to the bathroom to relieve myself and find a working power outlet, and when I went back in the room, Carlos was already passed out on the bed. I took the opportunity to shoot Chad a few texts summarizing our day, and headed to bed myself.

Now, about 10:27 a.m., Chad had finally responded to my lengthy paragraphs around 9 this morning. He was thrilled about the fun I was having, less than thrilled when I mentioned I had been high as fuck. He wasn’t mad, though. He wasn’t a controlling person – he just wanted to make sure I was being safe.

I spent the next few minutes texting Chad, telling him I would call him once I finished showering and eating the room service Carlos was ordering.

I turned on the shower and stripped my shorts off my waist. Too lazy to wait for the water to warm up, I stepped into the running water, instantly regretting it. I jolted back away from the freezing cold jet stream, knocking off a couple soap bottles in the process.

“You good?” Carlos said, shouting from the next room.

“Yeah,” I said, shouting back. “I’m fine.”

Once the water was at an acceptable temperature, I stood underneath the stream, letting the heat soothe my aching muscles. I lathered my loofa and began to coat my body in the thick suds from my body wash.

Today was the last day of the festival, and I was pretty bummed. I was having such a good time, and it was quickly coming to an end. I remembered that Carlos had mentioned he wanted to hang out often once we returned to LA – but with both of our busy schedules, I wasn’t sure how frequent that would be possible.

But I was definitely ready to see Chad again. To feel his body against mine… To have his arms pinning down mine… To feel his strong legs on each side of me… To have his…

I closed my eyes, absentmindedly reaching down and groping myself through the soap bubbles. My fingers slipped down my shaft and between my legs even further, until the reached my pert ass. I spread my legs, rinsing the soap from my body.

“Chad,” I said, moaning, as I continued to play with myself.

Fuck, I said, feeling my pent up tension get closer and closer to release. I slid my fingers inside myself, coating two, then three, then four at once. I bucked back and forth; imagining Chad taking me places I desperately longed to be.

Four months ago, these actions would have made me ashamed. I had been a strict, top-only gay man. But, after my transformative changes, the thought of topping felt entirely foreign to me. With my diminished size, muscular and member-wise, and increased desires to submit, I longed for my now much larger boyfriend to take me.

“Chad,” I said, feeling the pressure about to explode.

“Raul,” Carlos said, rapping at the door.

I opened my eyes, my cock’s contents exploding against the shower walls. I panted, trying to gain the composure to speak.

“Y-yeah,” I said, gasping.

“The room service is here!”

Already? Hadn’t he called like what, ten minutes ago?

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I said, quickly scrubbing the shower and myself again, cleaning up. I sped washed the rest of my body, my hair, and repeated my body again for good measure. As I rinsed off my face, I heard a notification go off on my phone.

Turning off the shower, I grabbed the towel I left hanging over the shower door. I hurriedly dried my skin off, slipping my briefs and socks on, feeling mildly self-conscious if Carlos had heard me in the shower. I was still adjusting to my increased sex drive, and clearly, it was winning.

Grabbing my phone from the charger, I walked out into the bedroom, my hair still not entirely dry. As I pulled up a chair to the small table in the corner of the room where Carlos was already sat, I felt a few water droplets drip down my lithe chest and stomach. I felt my face flush, regretting not wearing any other clothes. I sat down, pulling the uneaten plate towards me, and smiled at Carlos.

“They were really fast?” I said, still confused at their efficiency.

“Right?” Carlos said, scarfing down a couple slices of bacon. He looked up at me and smiled. “Do you want me to get you a shirt? You look a little… uncomfortable.”

My face flushed even further, kicking myself for not being able to hide my emotions very well.

“Sorry,” I said, for about the millionth time that morning. “I’m just a little shy around you, I guess.”

“Don’t be,” Carlos said, moving on to his eggs. “Like I told you last night, I think you have an incredible body. Way more built than I ever was at 21, and even aside from that, you’re just a beautiful guy, Raul. You don’t have to be self-conscious around me, I’ll never judge you…”

His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence and he tried to clear his throat.

“Woah,” he said, rubbing his chest. “I… I’m feeling really weird…”

“What?” I said, starting to stand up. “Are you choking? Do you need water?”

“No,” Carlos said, still rubbing his chest. “I’m not… I just… I’m… It feels like I’m falling…”

My eyes widened at his choice of words and I glanced down at the food. I gasped when I noticed a slight shimmer in all the food, including my own. A small sparkle that no mortal could ever notice; the food was enchanted.

Carlos reached towards his glass of orange juice, already nearly empty, and I grabbed his hand.

“No, don’t drink that,” I said, almost snappily. “I’ll get you water, wait. Just don’t drink that, it’s tainted.”

“What?” Carlos said, panic in his voice. “Is it poisoned?” he started to stand up, his balance unsteady from the couple inches of height he had already lost.

“No, it’s not, it’s,” I said, unable to find the words. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and opened it, placing it against Carlos’ lips. “Drink this; trust me.”

Carlos drank the water as I tried to lug his heavy body towards his bed. His eyes were wide from fear as he continued to go through his transformation. He stared at his body, watching his limbs creep closer and closer, and the fibers of his muscle tissue dissolve into themselves.

“Raul,” Carlos said, as we finally reached his bed and we sat down.

Thousands of thoughts were rushing through my head. Could I stop this? If he vomited it, would it end? I scrambled to find any sort of an answer.

“Raul,” Carlos repeating, more panic in his voice than before.

“It’s okay, Carlos,” I said, rubbing his rapidly thinning legs. “It’s going to be okay.”

He already must have lost nearly 5 inches of height and dozens of pounds of muscle. Each time his chest heaved, it looked smaller and smaller. I could feel his legs becoming skinnier beneath my hand.

There was nothing I could do to stop this. Even if he regurgitated everything, the enchantment had already begun. If I attempted to cast any kind of reversal spell, the enchantment would inflict itself onto me too, causing god knows what havoc on my own body.

“What’s happening to me, Raul?” Carlos said, beginning to cry as his voice crept upwards, retreating from his healthy baritone into a tenor timbre.

“Carlos,” I said, grabbing his arms. They looked to be about half the size they were just moments before, and still shrinking. “Look at me. Look at me.”

He stared at me, tears slowly running down his face. His facial hair faded into his skin, giving him a youthful, clean-cut look. Not a speck of stubble remained, making me wonder if he was even capable of growing a beard at all anymore. His jawline and cheeks softened slightly, ridding him of the sculpted Adonis features that made his modeling work so striking. He didn’t look 25 years old anymore. He looked closer to my age, maybe even younger… I couldn’t tell.

“Carlos,” I repeated. “Just breathe. Focus on me, and breathe. This will be over soon, I promise.”

Carlos vehemently shook his head, as if agreeing with me would make the transformations occurring to his body stop quicker.

I wrapped my arms around my friend, feeling his thin arms wrap tightly around me. I could feel his pecs dwindle beneath mine until there was hardly a divide between our chests any longer. He wrapped his skinny legs around mine, and I could feel his knee dig into my back. He shook in my arms as I rubbed his back. I squeezed tighter, trying my best to calm him down.

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. I chanted in my head repeatedly. Don’t take him away from me. Let this stop soon. He didn’t eat all the food. Please stop. Please stop.

We sat there in silence, my former stud of a friend clinging to me desperately for protection. After what felt like hours, but was truly only a few minutes, I felt the changes cease.

“Raul,” Carlos said, his voice now higher than mine. “I think it stopped.”

He let go off my body and stared at me, his eyes still wide open like someone who had seen a ghost. He untangled his legs around me and stood up, almost losing his balance in the process. His previously skin-tight boxer briefs now hung on his hips, a couple sizes too large. His current bulge dwarfed in comparison to his past jutting package. His ass, however, remained almost as supple as it was before, this time filled with more fatty tissue rather than muscle.

He walked over to the full-length mirror attached to the closet door in front of me and he began trembling once more.

“Oh my god,” he said, crying harder this time.

I stood up, walking over slowly. As I stood directly next to him, I saw he was nearly my height, perhaps just half an inch taller than me now. I shut my eyes tightly, remembering what I thought was a hallucination last night during the DJ’s set, but now realizing it was a vision. My dream this morning too: all ominous, threatening visions.

“Carlos,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

He turned to look at me, shaking with every breath he took.

“What the fuck, Raul” he said, sniveling. “I look at tiny as I was when I was 21 again, but I’m so short too. I don’t understand. I don’t…” He continued to cry as he wrapped his arms around me.

The pieces began to click in my mind: Carlos’ confession about being a much smaller man just a few years prior. Someone must have been eavesdropping on me for a while now, waiting for me to slip and start my arrangement with the council. They knew it would be unlikely they would be able to do something directly to me, but someone I had just recently grown close to and could let my guard down… I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened to me if I ate the food as well.

“Well,” a voice said behind us. “I guess I was wrong about you yesterday.”

“How the fuck did you get in here,” Carlos said, reflexively hiding behind me.

“Diana,” I said. “You have to believe me; I didn’t do this.”

She stood in the bathroom doorway, smoking once more, one hand on her hip as she took a long drag.

“What,” Diana said, blowing her smoke out the opened window. “Couldn’t stand seeing a well-built man tower over you? Missed having all that power stored inside your own body? So, what? You turn him into someone smaller than you?”

“What is she talking about, Raul,” Carlos said, turning to look at me.

“Diana,” I repeated. “I didn’t do this. Look at the food.” I pointed to table just a few feet in front of her.

She strolled over to the table, grabbing a strawberry from the small fruit dish in the middle of the table. She dusted her finger over the surface, examining the sparkled powder.

“An enchantment?” She asked, scrunching her face. “But… but why?” She turned to look at me, examining my face.

I squeezed Carlos hand as he continued to stare at me, his breath reverberating in my ear.

“You’re not lying,” Diana said, finally. She snuffed out her nicotine stick in my eggs before walking over to Carlos and I. She glanced at me before taking a careful look at Carlos, starting at his head and working her way down to his feet.

“Fuck,” she said, shaking her head. “Why do the most beautiful men get the cruelest punishments?”

“What the fuck is happening, Raul,” Carlos said, ripping himself from me. He glared at me, puffing his chest back. If the situation weren’t so dire, I might have chuckled at the sight: the former 5 foot 11, nearly 200-pound man attempting to look just as imposing in his now 5 foot 5 and half inch, 110-pound frame.

I turned to my new friend, biting my lip. Fuck, why did things always have to get so goddamn messy.

“Carlos,” I said, putting my hands up defensively. “I can explain.”

“What,” Carlos said, his voice rising. “The fuck, happened to me? Who are you people?”

“I’m a warlock, Carlos,” I said, attempting to inch closer. “Diana, she’s a witch.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Raul,” Carlos said, jutting himself forward aggressively. “I don’t care how fucking small I am right now I’ll still try to beat your ass if you had anything to do with this.”

I closed my mouth, clenching my jaw repeatedly.

“I didn’t do this to you, Carlos,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. “I’m pretty positive someone that doesn’t care for me very much enchanted the food you ordered to fuck with not only me, but also you.”

“What would they want from Carlos?” Diana said, chiming in.

“I’m not too sure,” I said. “They probably wanted to catch me off guard… maybe stop me from continuing with the arrangement.”

“So someone really turned me into this… this twink?” Carlos said, exasperatedly.

“Yes,” I said, softly. “I didn’t think anything like this would happen, Carlos. I’m seriously sorry.”

I spent the next 15 minutes attempting to explain everything, from start to finish. At first, Carlos just stood there; ready to swing at me. But, the longer he listened, the more his body began to relax. His shoulders grew less tense, and the scowl on his face softened, as moisture appeared back in his eyes.

“So,” Carlos said, rubbing his fist over his eyes. “If you can shape shift people, or whatever. Can’t you just change me back? Make look how I’m supposed to?”

“I understand now,” Diana said, sighing. “Whoever did this saw how close you had grown to Carlos, and they knew you’d do anything to restore his body. But that would go against the council’s arrangement… you would automatically fail.”

“Goddamn it,” I said, muttering to myself. “She’s right…”

“What, so I’m just stuck like this?” Carlos said, gesturing at himself crudely. “I have a career, a life! I can’t go out looking like this!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Diana said, pulling her hair back into a bun. “Just because Raul can’t reverse the changes now, doesn’t mean I can’t get to the bottom of this and see what we can do to restore your body.”

I walked over to Carlos, trying to comfort him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, briefly, before he shrugged me off. He sat on the edge of my bed, placing his head in my hands.

“Well,” I said, processing the information I gained from touching Carlos. “You’re still a model. A great one, actually. Reality hasn’t changed against that. In fact, you’re twice as popular than you used to be.”

“What?” Carlos said, his head whipping up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said, equally as surprised. “I guess you were discovered on accident, in a café in downtown. Your agent, Sean, found you there. And you exploded nearly instantly. The world loves you.”

“Me,” Carlos said, standing back up. “Like… this? I’m skinnier than even you.” He walked over, and shook his head quickly. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I said, smiling softly. “I guess your build has helped you get more high fashion, avant-garde work, in addition to the commercial work you were used to in your true body.”

“Woah,” Carlos said, actually smiling. He looked down at his body, rubbing his taunt muscles under his nimble fingers.

“They love me,” he said, muttering to himself.

I turned to look at Diana, who was busy scanning her phone for something.

“What’s your plan?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Considering you have a great deal of enemies in the magic world,” Diana said, still scrolling, “I’m trying to find a couple people who would be willing to stick their butts out to help me get to the bottom of this.” She glanced up at me before turning her gaze to Carlos, who was still busy examining himself. “No pun intended.” She returned back to her phone.

I chuckled: “Probably not the time for jokes, Diana.”

“Yeah, well, humor gets me through most stressful situations,” she said, shrugging. “I’ll try to get this done as soon as I possibly can. Until then, you both have to continue with your day like you initially planned. Whoever attacked you both probably wasn’t counting on either of you not finishing you food, or me being here to monitor you. I have a protection spell around me, from the council. No one knows I’m working on your behalf.”

“Miss Diana,” Carlos said, a strange look crossing over his face. “Sorry… I don’t know why I was so formal about that… but do you think you can give us a couple of those protection spells?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Carlos,” Diana said, smiling at him. “That would be considered interfering with the arrangement, the same way whoever attacked you is interfering.”

I nodded, lacing my hands behind my head. While it was reassuring to have Diana on my side, it was horrifying knowing the amount of people who probably wanted to see me fail, and the lengths they would likely go to ensure that.

“Don’t worry, Carlos,” I said. “You promised to protect me – well, now I’m promising to protect you; no matter what. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

Carlos looked at me, resembling a lost puppy, and grinned.

“Okay, Raul,” he said, nodding. “I trust you.”

“Well,” Diana said, putting her phone back into her bag. “I’m off. You boys have fun, and please be safe. If you need me, Raul, call me.” She threw a card at me, before vanishing into the air.

Catching the card before it made contact with my eye, I glanced at it. Diana had the most extra business card I had ever since. An iridescent, holographic print hovered over a dark background:

DIANA KROFT: MIND READER, CONJURER, MEDIUM.

“Raul,” Carlos said, walking over to me. He stood in front of, staring at the ground. He sized me up, and then looked down at himself. “Fuck, I really am smaller than you…”

“Hey, at least you’re a little taller,” I said, smiling awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. Carlos chuckled: “Yeah, a massive half inch. So much for being your ‘big bro’ huh?”

I placed my hand on Carlos’ shoulder before bringing him in for a hug. He rested his chin in the crook of my neck, sighing deeply. Feeling him this way, this size… I felt for him. I knew the feeling of loss he was experiencing. I knew the anger he was holding in. I related to the sadness coursing through his body. I would protect him, even if Diana couldn’t fix this. I took my responsibility; he would be mine to watch over from now on.

“You know,” Carlos said, looking up at me. “I know I already told you I thought you had a great body… but seeing it from this perspective, you really do have a beautiful body, man. And now, I’m way more jealous than I was before.”

“You were jealous?” I asked, lifting his face up to look in his eyes.

“Of course!” Carlos said. “I mean, I was never confident when I was still small. And I definitely don’t feel confident right now considering I’m even smaller than I was before. But, you… You carry yourself so well. You embrace your sexuality, your body, your dreams… I admire you, Raul.”

I smiled, looking at the lean man in front of me. He grinned, before pulling us on the bed together to sit. The material from the front of his boxer bunched up a bit, and Carlos stared down at it.

“God, do I even want to see what’s down there anymore?” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“It takes getting used to,” I said, rubbing his leg.

“Is what she said true?” Carlos said. “You used to be tall and built like me?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring out in front of me, recalling my dream body. “Bigger, I think. It’s starting to become hard to remember entirely what it looked like. I can still imagine parts, fill in the blanks myself… but that almost feels like a lost memory at this point. Like I made it up.”

“I’d love to see how you’re supposed to look,” Carlos said, squeezing my knee.

I jumped: “Don’t even, Carlos.”

Carlos laughed, a higher chuckle than I was used to.

“Okay, okay,” he said, standing up. “Later, however, no promises!”

I giggled; glad to see some of his spunk was back. I walked over to my backpack, pulling out the clothes I was going to wear today.

“Fuck,” Carlos said, looking at his suitcase on the ground, still full of clothes his old body could fit in. “I’m assuming those didn’t change since I didn’t finish eating.”

“That… that seems true,” I said, looking down at the size Large tanks and size 32 shorts resting in Carlos’ luggage. “I can alter them, though. They may not look exactly the same, but I can make them fit this new version of you. Your new, temporary life.”

Carlos grabbed a pair of shorts and pressed them against his hips, reveling in how large they looked appeared in contrast to his thin body.

“That might be necessary,” he said, sighing.

Rubbing my fingers together, the garments shifted. The materials changed, the sizes readjusted, and the colors vibrated in new shades and hues. In mere seconds, the shorts Carlos held against his body modified to fit his new form.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Carlos said.

I held in a laugh, looking at the bottoms in Carlos’ hands. Gone were chino-styled shorts, but instead lay a pair of skimpy, partially-see through reflective bottoms. The rest of his suitcase was filled to the brim with revealing items: mesh, lace, shirts with the collars removed, overalls, distressed jeans and shorts, and so much more. The boxer briefs on his body had changed into to a pair of tight briefs that exposed parts of his cheeks and hugged his moderate bulge. Other similar briefs lay inside the roped pocket of his luggage.

“Hey,” I said, trying my best to sound positive. “You look hot.”

Carlos looked over at me, dropping the shorts on the ground, and placing his hands on his small hips.

“Shut up and get me a drink,” he said, cocking his hip to one side. “I’m gonna fucking need it.”

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 2 - Continued

“Diana,” I said, taking a step back. “What… what are you doing here?”

I stared at her across the parking lot, inching closer to Carlos, afraid she might be there to potentially harm him.

“I,” Diana said, removing her cigarette from her lips, “am here to check up on you.” She flicked the butt of her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with one of her heels as she strutted towards me.

“What for?” I said, softly clenching and relaxing my right fist.

“That’s a good one,” Diana said, chuckling to herself. “I mean, I am just the one witch that helped you get off with this probation period instead of having to completely revoke your magic. I’m still waiting for that thank you basket you promised, by the way.”

Diana wasn’t wrong. From the very beginning, she was on my side; even when I wasn’t aware of what was going on. When I was being whisked away in my dreams to the council for my pre-trial punishments and transformations, Diana was secretly compiling reasons and justifications to not sentence me to become a mortal. At the end of it all, I would’ve been trapped in the 18-year-old twink body I was eventually transformed into, and stripped off my magic; forced my live the rest of my life completely powerless.

“My bad,” I said, still tense. “My brain isn’t exactly the way it used to be. I swear, nowadays I find myself more drawn to lusting after my own reflection than remembering the promises I made to people.”

“That I can believe,” Diana said. “In any case, I see you’ve decided to go through with the arrangement: prove to the council that your methods of transforming mortals is for the better of this world and ours.”

“I have,” I said. “I’ve already directly improved four lives, and who’s to say how many more considering the first three was a gang of bullies.”

“I agree,” Diana said, pulling another cig from her purse. “Nevertheless, since I stuck my neck out for you, I’ve been assigned to monitor you for the remainder of your probation to make sure you don’t fall out of line and start transforming anyone, mortal or magical, for your own personal agenda.”

I squinted my eyes. Typical of the council – they never liked being challenged. And now after processing what Diana just told me, I should’ve expected this to happen. I vaguely remembered one of the warlocks scoffing that a “kid will do what a kid wants to do” during my trial and how “children need surveillance.” Pfft. It’s not my fault I was biologically 28 years old and the old fart was pushing five centuries.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Diana,” I said, crossing my arms. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I think I can handle this on my own.”

“Raul,” Diana said, exhaling smoke. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to them. I have to give at least weekly reports from now on, sometimes more when there’s repeated transformations occurring. And since you’ve already done, what, four, you said? I think I’m going to need to pop in a couple more times this weekend.”

Sometimes I wondered if Chad was a low-key clairvoyant; I swear he could feel when something bad was coming from a mile away.

If I couldn’t shake Diana off my back, I couldn’t shake the council off it either. I would have to be extra cautious from here on out. Adam’s transformation still would be considered safe under the arrangement, as would the bullies, but I would be liar if I wasn’t already thinking about tweaking Chad a little when I got back home. Guess that was out of the picture for the time being.

“Fair enough,” I said, not wanting to cause any more friction. “You do what you gotta do. But, next time, do you think you could give ya boy a little bit of a heads up?”

“That,” Diana said, the side of her mouth curling up, “is something I cannot promise.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“Oh, and Raul,” Diana said. “One more thing before I go.”

I raised my eyebrows, feigning interest.

“The council wanted me to lay out what would happen if you fail to provide enough justification throughout this process. If you fail to prove your transformations provide significant improvements to both the mortal and magical worlds…”

“I’ll have my powers stripped away,” I said.

“No,” Diana said, stamping out the rest of her cigarette, “I’m afraid I couldn’t manage to get them to agree on that for your potential sentencing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the side of my lip. Worse than becoming a mortal? What could be worse than that?

“If you fail, Raul,” Diana said. “You’ll be required to restart your magical studies, with a different specialization, as a first year student, of course, and be given an entirely different identity. Raul Flores will be no more.”

“What?” I said, my voice rising. “But in order to learn a new specialization I would have to be-“

“An adolescent, yes” Diana said, interrupting me. “You’ll be regressed back into young teenagerhood, and enrolled at the institution in the magic world, considering your first time ‘round learning in the mortal world would be deemed a failure. You won’t have your mind erased – you’ll be forced to remember your past life, your past powers, yet unable to ever cast any shape shifting spells ever again, and you’ll start completely over.”

“But,” I said, my eyes widening. “Chad…”

“Yes, I’m afraid he would continue to live out the remainder of his mortal life, not remembering you at all. Everyone here in the mortal world would live out the rest of their lives without you, actually.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This couldn’t be happening to me. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve just listened to Chad, months ago, and not used my powers until my probation was up. Now… now I was putting him and myself at risk… and this time, I could really lose everything.

“Well,” Diana said, turning around. “I guess I’ll leave you and your new friend to enjoy the rest of the festival. Handsome man, by the way. Surprised temptations to transform him haven’t occurred in your mind. And I know they haven’t; I am a mind reader, you know.”

I stood there, staring out past Diana, out into the crowds of frozen people dressed in their festival gear. Large hats, bandanas, flower crowns, shades, neon-matching fits.

Everyone could forget me. Everyone… but me.

“Raul.”

I turned to look at Diana, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know you’re a good person,” Diana said, continuing. “I have faith in you. I want you to succeed, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to prove you didn’t do anything wrong last year if I didn’t think you had something… Don’t let me down.”

“Hey, you okay, buddy?”

I blinked, and Diana was gone. The world was back in motion, and for a moment, I thought maybe I imagined it all.

“Huh?” I said, wiping the stray tear off my cheek. “Yeah, Carlos, I’m good. I just- I don’t know…”

“You sure?” Carlos said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not feeling good, we could head back to the room for a bit?”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head laughing. “I’m fine. Really. I just thought of something randomly and it got me sad. You pour a heavy mimosa; you already got me in the crying stage of being tipsy.”

Carlos laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, taking the bait and allowing us to change the subject. We walked on the shuttle and sat about halfway down in order to not be those assholes who sit in the front of the bus when there’s plenty of space in the back, but also not in the very back so it wouldn’t take us too long to get off once we arrived at the festival.

As more festivalgoers boarded the shuttle, Carlos rambled on about how awesome Adam was and how he was glad they at least exchanged numbers since they wanted to see one of the DJ’s playing later that night. I nodded and smiled the more he talked, but found myself completely distracted by my encounter with Diana.

I could lose Chad.

That’s all that kept playing in my head. Fuck turning into a teen again, although relieving adolescence sounded like a nightmare in itself, but losing Chad… I didn’t know if I could deal with that.

Worst of all, there was no way to back out anymore. The ball was set in motion. I pushed it, and now it was tumbling down the mountain and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I would get crushed, and still have to suffer my fate.

I had to get this point across. I was going to prove to the council that I was really helping both our worlds and making them a better place. I knew I was.

Right?

--

The first half of our time at the festival was a blur for me.

Carlos and I had been running back and forth between stages and the bars. We even got ourselves a smoothie at some point.

But I couldn’t focus. Diana really threw a goddamn wrench in my mind. She was all I could think about; her, and the council, and Chad, and my fucked up life.

I was finishing up the last sip of my margarita when Carlos mentioned he brought molly in the festival grounds with him.

I hadn’t done any kind of drugs in years, since I was still in college, but at the moment, being high and wasted seemed better than being lost in my thoughts.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to you know,” Carlos said, popping the pill in his mouth and washing it down with his own marg.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I want to.” I stuck my hand out, waiting for Carlos to drop the E in my palm.

“Ayeee, that’s my little dude!” Carlos plopped the pill in my hand before smacking my ass lightly.

We were already pretty tipsy, so maybe taking the pill wasn’t the best idea, but, if anything, I could try to detox the poison from our bodies if we started getting too faded.

Placing the pill on my tongue, I chugged the rest of my drink. Tossing the plastic cup in the nearby recycling bin, I smacked Carlos’ ass to let him know I was ready to head out of the beer garden.

“Where to next?” I said, dusting off the bits of dust that had accumulated on my shorts over the last few hours.

“Well, I texted Adam,” Carlos said. “He said he can meet us at the Outdoor Stage an hour before the DJ goes on. So… we still have a good… 45 minutes before that. Perfect timing too; the pill should be in full swing by the time the DJ’s on.”

“Nice,” I said, crackling my knuckles.

I pulled my phone from my front pocket, remembering I needed to text Chad that I had been at the festival. I thought about also informing him about the council, but decided it was best to save that until tomorrow, the earliest - perhaps even when I got back home. I needed to have a good time and forget about all that drama.

Hitting SEND on my messaging app, I turned back to Carlos, who had started grooving as we passed by the restrooms, which was convenient considering we probably wouldn’t have time to go again once we were at the Outdoor Stage.

At least I had Carlos with me right now to distract me. He was a good time, and his friendship made things feel a little less hectic.

“You gotta piss?” I said, pointing to the line forming outside.

“Mmmm,” Carlos said, his dancing slowing down. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“Good call,” I said, walking to the back of the line.

“Watch it!” a man yelled, as he shoved his shoulder past mine.

“YOU watch it!” Carlos said, yelling after the man. “What a prick!”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. “Just an asshole.”

I stared at the man who rammed into me as he walked only 15 steps behind me at the water refill station. He was a pretty average guy, probably in his early to mid 30s. Enough muscle mixed with a little fat, on the taller side. He was dressed like a tool, though. A backwards cap with a basketball jersey about 2 sizes too big, and cargo shorts that didn’t deserve to see the light of day.

“Watch it!” the man yelled, pushing past a younger guy about to fill up his water bottle.

I clenched my teeth.

“Dude, I was here first,” the younger guy said, pushing his way back into his spot at the water fountain.

“Fuck off, bitch,” the man said, pushing the other guy to the ground and putting his mouth directly underneath the faucet.

I glared at the older man as patrons in the area helped the younger man back to his feet and fetched his water bottle.

“What the fuck,” Carlos said, muttering under his breath.

Rubbing my fingers together and muttering under my breath, I turned around to face Carlos, moving forward in the bathroom line as people came and went.

“Carlos,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Who do you want to see after this?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, putting his hands on his hips. “All that commotion reminded me we should probably get water before we meet up with Adam though. And another drink. Or two.”

“Wh-what the fuck?” a voice said behind us.

A group of people turned to look at the older man from before, his chin and chest dripping with water. He had his arms completely extended out in front of him. He was staring at his hands, turning and twisting them, with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Someone please help me,” the man said, choking on his words.

A small crowd soon began to form around the water refill station as he continued to panic. They whispered amongst themselves, confused about the commotion.

I smiled as Carlos and I joined in on the staring. Since that asshole cleared enjoyed drawing the attention of others, I figured he’d want an audience as he experienced his transformation, which was triggered by the amount of water he chugged greedily from the fountain.

What the man wasn’t aware of, however, was he and I were the only people noticing the changes to his body. To the crowd of festivalgoers around him, he just looked like someone experiencing a bad trip.

The man’s mouth dropped as the hairs on his arms began to recede, leaving them completely hairless. The rest of his body hair quickly followed suit before his clothes began to loosen up around him. He shrank closer and closer to the ground as his muscles softened, not with fat, but from the loss of tone. The trimmed goatee on his face faded into nothingness as his cheeks rounded a bit, looking more and more like the fresh-faced recent high school graduate he was steadily becoming.

“Someone please help!” the now 19-year-old boy repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Someone go get the medic,” a woman said, pointing to the medical tent a few yards away.

The teen grasped at his shorts, threatening to fall off his thinning hips. His jersey billowed like a tarp on his torso. His breathing increased as freckles lined his skin and metal brackets appeared on his crooked teeth. Where there once was a wannabee thuggish man now stood a wannabee punkish college-drop out.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the medic said, pushing his way into the crowd. “Everyone back up, give the kid some space.”

The crowd began to disperse, deciding it had enough watching punk of a teenager freak out.

“You gotta help me man,” the teen said, tightening the belt on his shorts. “I’m shrinking man, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What’s your name kid?” the medic asked, putting his hand on the teen’s back.

“My name is Scott and I’m not a kid!” the former man said, with a slight lisp as his tongue tripped over the metal in his mouth. “I’m 34 years old and something is seriously wrong!”

“Are you here with anyone else?” the medic said, ignoring Scott’s pleas.

“Yes, my girlfriend Stacy and my best friend Hank, wait there they are! Stacy!”

Stacy, accompanied by Hank, turned to look at Scott, confusion written across her face.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, wrapping his arm around Hank’s.

“Stacy!” Scott said, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s me! Scott! I know I look like a kid right now, but it’s me. I don’t know what’s going on but-“

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” Hank said, pulling Stacy away.

As the couple walked away from the water fill station and towards the beer garden, Scott stared in disbelief before falling to his knees and losing consciousness.

“Fuck,” the medic said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. “I need a stretcher out by water 3; kid just passed out from an apparent trip.”

“Jesus,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“That can’t happen to us, right?” I asked, trying to play up the drug-trip narrative. I snapped my fingers, ensuring Scott would wake up thinking the entire ordeal truly was a bad trip.

“No, no way,” Carlos said, turning back around. “My shit is clean. Not laced with whatever the fuck that prick had. I’ve never seen anything like that. He was so young too.”

“Yeah,” I said, as we finally entered the restroom. “Kids nowadays…”

--

About an hour later, Carlos and I were on cloud 9. After we finished using the restroom and refilled our water bottles, we made our way to the beer garden and chugged a couple beers. Now, we were resting at the Outdoor stage, waiting for Adam and his girlfriend. My head was spinning from the alcohol and the E coursing through my veins. I opted to sit down against a fence as Carlos tried finding our newly acquainted friends.

I pulled out my phone to check if Chad had responded to my texts. Much to my dismay, I had no service.

“Raul!” Adam said, suddenly. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Cristal. I was telling her all about you guys and how you took me out of the funk I was in this morning.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Raul,” Cristal said, extending her hand. “Thanks for helping with Adam; he’s so hard on himself. He beats himself up whenever he tries new things.”

I stood up, the biggest smile plastered on my face, partially from the compliment, but mostly from how insanely fucked up I was.

“Aw, it was no problem,” I said, shaking Cristal’s hand. “He’s a really cool guy – he made Carlos and I enjoy our walk to the shuttle a bit more. It’s nice to meet you!

Cristal smiled before moving back to Adam, resting her head against his chest. Carlos walked over to me before offering his hand so we could head into the crowd.

As we walked closer to the Outdoor Stage, the DJ began his set.

“Fuck I’m so pumped!” Carlos said, as we all weaved our way through the sea of people.

“Me too,” I said, giggling. I squeezed Carlos’ hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. I moved my thumb over the back of his index finger repeatedly.

“Damn, you’re on a good one huh?” Carlos said, smiling down at me.

“Fuck. Yeah,” I said, laughing.

When we finally found a suitable spot, the four of us began dancing. I bumped my head to the beat, swayed my hips to the lasers, and pulsed my muscles to the bass flowing through my body.

My head twirled along to the music, my body moving in ways I had forgotten I could dance. I pressed myself repeatedly against Carlos as he danced with me, his arms holding me close at times.

I closed my eyes, picturing all the colors and shapes of the light show in front of me. I imagined my body changing back to it used to be, knowing I was banned from changing it until my probation was over. But with the way I was rolling, my imagination began to feel real.

I saw my thick chest and tight abs, and my strong biceps and shoulders that would make even Carlos jealous. I felt my thick rod and bulge between my legs, my powerful thighs grooving to the music. I shook my muscular ass, feeling the vibrations course up through my broad back.  

I imagined Carlos and I dancing there, feeling like we were floating above the ground.

I thought of Chad… wondering how he would feel if he knew I was here, cross-faded out of my mind, getting incredibly close with another man.

But I knew Carlos was just a friend. That’s all he ever would be. But in that moment, I also needed to have intimacy, because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified that I would fail. Terrified that I would lose. Terrified that I could wreck my life and have nothing left to show for it.

“Raul.”

I opened my eyes, my train of thought broken. I looked down at my body; slightly disappointed to see I was still the 21-year-old I had become.

I turned to look at Carlos, when my jaw dropped.

“Carlos?” I said, my voice wavering.

Carlos smiled at me, weaving his fingers around mine before squeezing them. He continued to dance and I stared at his body, not believing my eyes. I knew it was him; still 25 years old, but he was completely different. His muscles were practically gone; he stood a mere inch, if anything above me, and the light stubble he kept on his face had completely vanished.

“I’m having such a great time with you, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice a few octaves higher. “Please promise me we’ll hang out so much more when we get back to LA.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. A tear fell down my face, when Carlos quickly wiped it away.

“Don’t cry, Raul,” Carlos said, his brows furrowing.

I closed my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks. Did I do this? On accident? Diana? Someone else? I didn’t understand.

“Raul,” Carlos said, squeezing my hand tightly.

I took in a deep breath before I opened my eyes. I gasped when my eyes met Carlos’. He was fine. He wasn’t transformed at all. He was still the tall, muscular man I had been hanging out with the past couple days.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?”

I laughed, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. I think I’m just rolling a bit too hard.”

“I got you, man,” Carlos said, taking out the water bottle from his backpack. “I’ll always have you.”

I smiled, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have two beautiful men in my life. I took the water bottle and pressed it against my lips. As I drank, I felt my anxiety dissipate and my tension balance out. I took deep breaths, in and out, and handed the bottle back to Carlos.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I’ll always have you too. I promise.”

Carlos smiled back, before slowly pulling my back against his chest.

“We can dance relaxed like this until you feel better,” he said, whispering in my ear.

I nodded my head and swayed along to the rhythm. I went back to bumping my head to the music, and looked over to Adam and Cristal, who were too busy making out with each other to notice anything at all. I felt a vibration in my pocket and grinned.

Chad.

I closed my eyes, and sighed. I was going to do whatever it took to win over the council. I was going to win, no matter what.

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 2

I woke up still dizzy from the night before. The sunlight streamed in between the blinds, creeping up the tangled sheets wrapped around my slim legs. I groaned, placing my head on my forehead, praying I wouldn’t be too hungover.

Blinking a few times, I smiled, remembering how insane the previous night had been. After my… modifications to the three former bullies, Carlos and I had hung out at the Main Stage for a few sets before heading over to the tent with all the lights and lasers. I couldn’t remember the last night I danced like that. Carlos even put me up on his shoulders at one point, a drunken idea that seemed incredible at the time.

Carlos. Wow, I was so thankful I had met him the day prior. Who would’ve thought I would befriend someone so easily? After the festival, he offered to let me stay at his hotel room since it was about 25 minutes closer to the festival grounds than mine, but I politely declined, not wanting to overstay my welcome.

If he asked tonight, however, I might have to swallow my insecurities and pride, because the shuttle drive back to my hotel was much longer than I anticipated with all the traffic.

I sat up in my bed, the sheets sliding down my torso, exposing my lower stomach; still shimmering from the body glitter I had applied yesterday.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

I jerked my head across the room to where I left my phone charging and quickly hopped out of bed.

Chad.

“Hello?” I said, clearing my throat to loosen up the morning drawl in my voice.

“Hi, cutie,” Chad said, cheerfully. “Did you have a good time last night? Sorry I missed your call when you got back in; I was already knocked out for a few hours. Late night huh?”

“Oh my god, Chad,” I said, sliding back into bed. “It was a long, but such an amazing day. You’ll never guess who I met.”

“Who?” Chad said. I heard dishes clank in the sink and the faucet turn on in the background.

“Carlos Padilla!” I said, a smile creeping on my face again.

“What! No way!”

“Yes! He’s so cool, Chad, you guys have to meet. I haven’t made such a good friend in the longest time. Since, Chris, actually. We just clicked instantly.” I snapped my fingers appropriately, and absentmindedly rubbed my inner thigh, massaging out the soreness from my leg.

“Really? That’s so cool, babe.” Chad said. “I have heard a lot of nice things about him from other photographers, so it’s definitely reassuring to hear confirmation from you. I guess Dave will be thrilled to hear how good you two get along. I know he’s been hounding you to collaborate with Carlos for months now.”

“Yes, oh my god,” I said, slapping my leg. I cringed a little at my outburst, still not entirely used to speaking so animatedly. “I texted Dave when you didn’t answer last night, and he was still awake. Something about booking me for a shoot with Levi’s sometime next month. Oh, yeah, he wanted you to call Markos and see if you both would work on that shoot together.

“But, like, yeah! He’s psyched. It’s going to be perfect, baby. Whatever Carlos and I work on, I really think it’s going to blow up. It’ll be huge for us!”

I took the phone from my ear, putting it on speaker, and scrolled through my contacts, finding Carlos’ name. I sent him a message, asking if he was awake yet. Sure, it was only 9 a.m., and we didn’t sleep until around 4, but we had to get a move on. The festival wasn’t going to wait for anyone.

“I think Markos would be down,” Chad said, shutting the water off. “I’ll call Dave and ask him exactly what Levi’s wants to shoot. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Of course,” I said, going back to massaging my inner thigh. Damn, I was so sore. Ugh and rubbing my leg was really working me up. My fingers traveled down, further and further, inching over my ass a bit. Fuck, I could really use a finger inside m-

“Babe?” Chad said, breaking my train of thought.

“Huh?” I said, my hand resting in my lap. “Sorry, I was uh. I got distracted, my bad.”

Chad laughed: “No worries. I was just asking when you were going to head to Coachella today.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” I said, scrolling through my messages. “I texted Carlos ‘cause he wanted me to meet him at his room so we could get ready together and head over to the festival, but I’m not sure if he’s awake yet.”

“I understand,” Chad said. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. Please just be safe. Stay hydrated, and please, whatever you do, don’t make any rash decisions. I’m sure you don’t need clarification for what I mean.”

I paused, clenching my teeth a bit. Chad hadn’t wanted me to transform anyone since my probation period started, not even him. I understood his concern, given how messy our weeklong ordeal had been...

Shit.

“Uh, Chad,” I said, trailing off. “About that.”

“Raul,” Chad said, suddenly serious. “You didn’t.”

“Babe, they were total tools and they were bullying this guy and-“

“Raul… fuck. Babe, what if the council gets pissed again? What if they extend your probation longer? Indefinitely? What if they transform you even more against your wishes? Do you want to be 18 again?”

God, I hated when Chad made sense… but I know what I did wasn’t wrong. The council didn’t want me to abuse my powers – they wanted me to follow their code of only using my powers for personal purposes and, in rare instances, for the better good of the mortal world.

That’s where my arrangement came in. I argued that ridding the mortal world of its worst inhabitants, and enhancing its more worthy inhabitants was more beneficial to our community than by not doing anything at all. So they gave me until my probation period to either wait it out, or prove my case.

Yesterday at Coachella, I decided I needed to prove my case, even if it cost me further punishment, or even permanent transformation into someone I didn’t want to become.

I just hoped Chad would understand.

“I know, Chad,” I said, sighing. “But, please, trust me. I have to prove what I’m doing is to help everyone – the mortals and my people. I won’t go too far. I promise.”

I sat in silence, listening to the other end of the phone. My phone buzzed. Carlos. He wanted to know if I could head over as soon as possible.

“Okay, Raul,” Chad said, after what seemed an eternity. “I don’t really like it, but I’ll support you. But, the second things start getting messy, you have to promise me you’ll stop. I wouldn’t mind you looking like that way you do right now, or even become younger, older, less fit. You know I don’t care. But I know you do. And I want you to remember to take care of yourself before anyone else. So, please; promise me that at least.”

“Okay, handsome,” I said, nodding my head. “I promise. I won’t fuck up again. I appreciate your support. And while it’s amazing you wouldn’t mind if I was late teen again, or even potentially an old man, you’re right. I don’t want that. So I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you,” Chad said, and I swore I could feel him smile through the phone. “I’ll let you go. Text me whenever you can throughout the day. Have fun. I love you.”

“I love you too, Chad,” I said, smiling softly.

Ending the call, I began replying to Carlos. I told him I’d head out in the next 15 minutes, and that I should be at his room within the hour. I was more than ready for round two of Coach.

--

“Raul!” Carlos said, throwing his arms in the air. “Dude, this sounds crazy, but I missed you already!”

I laughed: “It does, but, honestly, I did too.”

We hugged each other before Carlos dragged me into his room. He was already halfway ready, wearing another tight pair of shorts that accentuated his form perfectly.

“Shit,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “If I knew you were going to be almost ready, I would have at least changed into my clothes before I left.”

“No, no, you’re good, dude,” Carlos said, shaking his hand side to side. “We’re in no rush. I was actually gonna start making us some… mimosas!” He grabbed a bottle of champagne and a bottle of orange juice from the largest mini fridge I had ever seen. In fact, I saw even more bottles of liquor inside: vodka, whiskey, and tequila. Carlos was stacked for the weekend.

“Fuckkkk,” I said, nodding my head in excitement. “You really know the way to my heart! We should definitely catch brunch one weekend once we’re back in LA.”

“Oh hell yeah, baby,” Carlos said, pushing his fist out for a bump.

We bumped fists, and Carlos began making the drinks.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom real quick,” I said, taking my backpack with me.

“You can change in here if you want,” Carlos said, dumping the champagne into a couple red cups he had laid out on the table. “I don’t mind.”

“See,” I said, smirking. “Normally I would, but… I kind of threw on these pants and… forgot to put on my jock.”

I felt my face flush red as Carlos chuckled under his breath.

“I got you, I got you,” Carlos said, handing a cup over to me. “Go ahead and change, but after we toast.”

Taking the cup, I smiled.

“Okay,” I said, “what are we toasting to?”

“To another lit day of Coachella,” Carlos said, clinking his cup with me.

I took a sip, and then a gulp. Fuck, Carlos made a good drink. I took my cup with me and hurried into the bathroom.

Opening my backpack, I took out a ripped, stripped short sleeve button up and a pair of matching shorts. Stripping out of my current clothes, I shivered as the cold air cupped my freshly exposed skin. I felt myself stiffen as I adjusted to the coolness of the restroom. I slipped on a pair of briefs, crew socks, and the rest of my outfit.

Pulling out my phone, I placed it on the counter and adjusted my clothes until they fit exactly how I wanted. This was a much nicer outfit than the day before, in my opinion. Leaving my shirt open, my tight abs and slight pecs were on full display. My toned legs and bubble butt were also as prominent as ever. I frowned a bit, staring at the front of my shorts, however. I still wasn’t used to not seeing a prominent bulge. But, I guess that’s what I should attempt to get used to, considering I dwindled down from a proud 8 inches to a modest 5.

Snapping a few quick pics, and tousling some hair clay into my hair, I was practically ready. I was thankful the council had allowed me to keep my good complexion; a medium tan, with a few freckles and hardly visible pores. It was a sigh of relief not having to the feel the need to cover up anything with a little foundation or concealer.

Reaching the door handle, I entered back into the bedroom to find Carlos finishing up his look by trying on a few chains around his neck.

“Dang, boy,” Carlos said, glancing at me in the mirror’s reflection. “Looking good!”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling.

I continued to drink my now very noticeably strong mimosa, and sat down on the edge of Carlos’ bed.

“Alright,” Carlos said, turning towards me. “I think I’m good. What do you think?”

Like yesterday, Carlos looked incredible. He was sporting a low-cut sleeveless tank that emphasized his chest in the best way possible. The ridge between his pecs looked like a gorge in a canyon. His biceps, triceps and shoulders glistened from the sun block he recently applied. He was also wearing a pair of short running shorts that rode dangerously high to his groin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The more I stared, the more I realized I admired his body mostly because it reminded me of my dream body. The dream body I once had, and longed to have again in 4 more months.

“You. Look. A. Maz. Ing!” I said, emphasizing each syllable. I clapped my hands, hollering to further gas Carlos up.

Carlos smiled: “You’re the best, Raul. Here, wear these chains. I think they’d work well with your shirt.”

He handed me a couple thin, gold chains. Yeah, they’d be amazing. And they’d complement my orange shades perfectly.

Throwing them around my neck, I stole a look in the mirror. Damn, Carlos and I look bomb. I ushered him over to take a few mirror selfies. We spent nearly 5 minutes, trying out various poses and positions.

“Alright,” Carlos said, finally. “Let’s head out. We can ride the shuttle from here. Leave your bag – you can sleep here tonight, in the other bed.”

I nodded my head as I opened a few selfies in my photo-editing app to enhance the colors of our clothes.

As we entered the hallway, I nearly crashed into another man hurriedly walking down the hallway.

“Oh shit,” I said. “My bad!”

“No, no,” the man said, meekly. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be walking so fast. Sorry, sir.” He shook as he talked, pushing his thick frames up against his eyes. He was a thin man with a kind of dorky appearance. He wore a grey tee with the sleeves rolled slightly, a white bandana around his neck, and a pair of tight black jeans.

Sir? This dude couldn’t be any younger than I was. In fact, he was probably closer to Carlos’ age, even with his baby face.

I stared back at the man, before smiling; a light bulb going off in my head.

“No, it’s fine,” I said, offering my hand. “I’m Raul. What’s your name?”

“Adam,” the man said, shaking my hand. “I’m sorry, I’m just feeling kind of upset right now.”

A small spark ignited as we made contact; my truth serum spell zapping into Adam’s system.

“What’s wrong, dude?” Carlos said, joining the conversation.

“Just kind of feeling down,” Adam said, starting to walk away.

“About?” I said, walking next to him. Carlos followed suit.

“My outfit,” Adam said. “It’s not really something I would wear. I posted it too. All my friends made fun of me for it.”

“Aww, really,” I said, surprised. “I think you look nice Adam. That shirt fits you well too.”

Adam shook his head, instinctively rubbing my arms trying to hide them.

“I just hate how skinny I look. I usually wear bigger clothes, but my girlfriend said I’d look nicer if I wore clothes more my size. She’s at the shuttle stop waiting for me. But I hate how I still look like a twig. I’ve been lifting, but I don’t know. I just wish I could see progress now.”

“It takes time,” Carlos said. “It took me years to get like this. Believe it or not, I used to look just like you, even a few years ago.”

“Yeah, right,” Adam said, scoffing. “You look like a god, and I look like a total dweeb in comparison.”

I shook my head, having heard enough.

“Don’t worry, Adam,” I said, patting him on his back. “I’m sure your body will look exactly how you want it before you know it.”

The three of us continued to walk and talk. Adam continued to involuntarily let us know his life story. With every step he took, and every word he uttered, he began to change. His skinny frame began to crack and shift as it filled with lean muscle. His legs and torso stretched, as he grew taller, thicker. His voice deepened as he lamented about his torturous years of high school and college. The veins in his arms and hands grew more pronounced as he explained the hours of work he put into the gym trying to put on weight.

Before long, the small man Adam once was was no more. In its place, was a buff, jock-like man, who now was exchanging workout routines with Carlos, as well as comparing personal weight records.

“It was such a rush, man,” Adam said, flexing his muscled arms. He cracked his knuckles, the veins on his hands bulging slightly. “I have been trying to hit 200 on that machine for weeks, but when I finally did it, it felt fucking awesome.”

Adam was now a certified stud – his grey tee hugged his shoulders perfectly, and his now skintight black jeans highlighted an exceptional ass and tree trunk legs. His laugh boomed through the hallways.

“I can imagine!” Carlos said. “I can’t even hit 180 on the machine.”

“Alright, guys,” I said, shaking my head. “Enough with the gym talk. You guys sound like a couple of meat heads.”

“Sorry, Raul,” Adam said, smiling apologetically. “I just hope to look as good as Carlos one day. I know I have a long way to go, but I’ll get there. And at least I have him beat on at least on muscle group!” He flexed his back, teasing Carlos.

“Touche, my friend,” Carlos said, chuckling. “Touche.”

Before long, we parted ways with Adam when he met up with his girlfriend, who was still waiting for a couple of her friends. We waved goodbye, and headed to the nearest shuttle.

“That guy was rad,” Carlos said. “Reminded me a lot of me when I just turned 21.”

“Did you really used to be really skinny,” I said, curious. I couldn’t imagine Carlos as a skinny guy. I always pictured him as the athletic type.

“Yeah,” Carlos said, “probably even skinnier than him, honestly. I didn’t start working out until I was almost 22. That’s why I take my modeling so seriously, though. I worked really hard to be taken seriously. Everyone always said I had a nice face, but my body wasn’t marketable. So, I made it marketable. This has always been my dream. And I finally feel good about myself. I don’t want this ride to end.”

I smiled, taking in Carlos’ confession. He really was one of the most humble guys I had met in recent memory. We really weren’t so different. I couldn’t wait to get back in my dream body. Working out with Carlos would be a dream.

I opened my mouth to say something, when the world stopped moving.

“What the,” I said. I looked around. I hadn’t cast a time stopping spell. Who was doing this?

Then I saw her. A woman. Dressed in black. She had long blonde hair draped down to her hips. She held a cigarette from her hand, and took a drag as I stared at her in confusion.

“Diana?” I said, my eyes widening.

“Honestly,” Diana said, “I would say I’m surprised you’ve been busy transforming people again, but I’d be lying.”

Promise me, I heard Chad’s voice ring in my head. Promise me.

I really do know how to push my luck dangerously close to the edge, huh?

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella

Coachella: I’ve never gotten the hype.

What, a 100,000 people go out into the middle of the desert to get wasted, listen to a few bands and take pictures to post to their Instagrams? Not really my thing.

Music, however, was my thing. So, after seeing how killer the lineup was this year… I decided I had to check it out myself. Maybe it’s hypocritical, but hey. Sue me.

I’ve been a warlock for the bulk of my life. I gained my magic specialty as a teenager, and have been perfecting it ever since. I’m a master of shape shifting and reality alteration, particularly with human subjects. I’ve enjoyed my powers the most by giving myself bodies I could have never achieved otherwise - the bodies of my dreams.

Unfortunately for me, I haven’t been able to make an alterations to myself in months thanks to a probation period I’ve been forced to follow thanks to a long story that’s best saved for another time.

Maybe you’ve heard some of it:  someone had it out for me for making changes to other people and decided to give me a taste of my own medicine. I went from a 24 year-old muscled stud and shrank down to an 18-year-old twink. Which I guess is better than what my age and body should actually look like, since my body has been 100% enhanced by magic, so I shouldn’t really be complaining.

But, I have to admit that I miss my muscles, my extra inches of height, and hell even the size of my… well, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

The witch council decided that instead of having my powers completely revoked from me, I was to live in a body of their choosing for 8 months; in order to monitor if what I was claiming to use my powers on others was truly to benefit the mortal world.

And it is. I take away from those who deserve to be knocked a peg or two and give to those that deserve to be ”improved” to match their desires. It’s a service to the mortals, in my opinion.

Nevertheless, instead of looking like a hunk, I’ve inhabited this lithe, 5’ 5”, 125-pound, 21-year-old Latino twink build for nearly 4 months now. Halfway through my probation… and I’ve grown restless.

My personality has significantly changed as well. I used to be so dominant in my sex life, and social life. Now… as an added touch of punishment by the council, I’ve become akin to a stereotypical personality of a young flamboyant gay man: submissive to my boyfriend (who was gifted a godly, older build as consolation for his unwarranted changes throughout our ordeal), timid in social exchanges, but exuberant in party situations. I’ve lost the baritone timbre of my voice and been “blessed” with a higher, lighter tone that still makes my man giggle when I express my frustration at my situation. The worst part, however, is how I’ve started to accept and enjoy this new me. Which, I’m sure is what the council wanted – for me to gain a new perspective and stray outside of masculine, dominant persona I craved all my life.

Perhaps I’ll return to tell that story one day. But, now, let’s return to the story at hand.

Needless to say, I’ve been in need for a vacation. A distraction, if you will.

While my boyfriend Chad needed to work the weekend of Coachella, I had absolutely nothing going on. My music management job has been swapped out for the life of a model, and well, Coachella is more than happy to pay for influencers, like myself, to attend the festival. So, when my agent informed me that I could attend in approached me VIP fashion… who was I to decline? Vapid much? Yes, and I loved every second of accepting the invitation.

Packing was a breeze: hats, mesh, shorts, shoulder bags, earrings, and sunglasses galore. I kissed my partner farewell for the weekend, and began my drive out to Palm Desert, where I would be staying for the weekend.

Before I knew it, it was Friday morning, the first day of the festival. I hopped out of bed and washed up, throwing on my outfit of the day and headed out on my shuttle to the festival grounds.

I strolled in to the VIP entrance, clad in a mesh tank, shades, and distressed jean shorts. I caught several stares across the room out of the corner of my eye and smirked to myself. God, I had become so full of myself, even as insecure as I was for becoming a fraction of the shadow I used to be. I might not have been stick thin, I had a fair amount of muscle tone, a perky ass, and a great tan, but I still felt the need to compensate for my lack of self-confidence by pushing off a confident aura wherever I went. I had to, at least, since my modeling career had been taking off lately.

“Raul?”

I turned towards the sound of a man’s voice. I smiled.

“Hey! Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t, but I loved your Gucci ads that came out last week.” A tall, built man smiled back at me, probably just shy of six feet. I recognized him: Carlos Padilla, another rising model that my agent had been begging me to work with. He was dressed in a pink and orange floral shirt, draped open, exposing his chiseled pecs and toned stomach, and matching short shorts that showed off his toned, thick legs. If I were still 170 pounds, it would have been an outfit I would have picked out in a heartbeat.

“Oh thank you! Carlos, right?” I offered my hand.

“Wow, yeah. That’s so cool, you know my name,” Carlos shook my hand, his smile stretching out to his ears.

I told my agent I’d consider working with Carlos soon. I liked how humble he was, how contrastingly different he was from nearly everyone in the industry right now. Hell, even different from the vapid boy I was slowly becoming. Speaking of which, I really needed to tone down coming off as stuck up, in fear that the council might try to use that as reasoning to extend my punishment period even further.

“Of course I do! Your pictures are always amazing. I’d love to work with you one day.”

“That would be amazing, Raul. And trust me, I know you’re with your man, Chad, and I would never do anything to disrespect you or him. I respect you both a lot; your relationship is so nice. I love every thing you guys have put out together. Chad’s pictures really capture you the best.”

I smiled. I really did love how much Chad’s photography had blossomed this year. And I loved how he always wanted to work on my shoots. He had been incredibly supportive throughout this entire process, and was probably the only reason I hadn’t completely been destroyed by the council’s punishment. He knew how to make me feel beautiful, even when I couldn’t feel like that myself.

I made a mental note to text Dave, my agent, ASAP – I loved Carlos and working with him would be so fun.

“You’re really sweet, Carlos. I’m glad we got to meet! Were you going to go out into the festival soon?”

“Yeah!” Carlos said, fist pumping into the air. “I’m actually here alone, so I was just going to take a few shots from the bar then venture out on the festival grounds.”

“Really?” I asked. “I thought you’d be with a group, maybe even a man!”

“No,” Carlos said, laughing. “No one wanted to come with me. Too ‘mainstream’ my friends said. And my dating life… non-existent.” He put his hand behind his head, smiling softly and seemingly embarrassed.

I had to admit, I was shocked. Considering he had nearly 500K followers across his social media platforms, I would have thought Carlos would be a shoo-in to be the guy to be with during Coachella. And a rough dating life? Definitely wouldn’t expect that. I also felt ashamed that just last week I was one of those people that stuck their noses up at Coachella for coming off as too mainstream.

Maybe this vacation was really needed for more reasons than I initially thought. Making a new friend and trying to find my old, humble self again? I was down for challenge.

“Aww, well, I’m actually here alone too,” I started. “Wanna hang with me today? I could definitely use a few drinks myself.”

“Really?” Carlos’ face lit up. He was such a sweet guy. I found myself liking him more and more as the time went by. “Yeah, I’d love that! What do you drink? Let me guess, vodka?”

“Oh, you think you know me so well,” I said, laughing. “What? The twink likes vodka?”

Carlos’ smile slipped from his face: “Oh shit no, that’s not what I meant. I just, I mean-”

I laughed: “Calm down, dude. I’m just teasing. Yes, vodka would be perfect.”

And there it was again. That smile. That gleaming, perfectly radiant, white smile.

“Oh, so little dude’s got jokes huh?” Carlos said, emphasizing the word “dude” in a way that reminded me of Chad whenever he teased me for how different my voice sounded when I tried to come off extra masculine nowadays.

Yeah, we were going to get along just fine.

“I’m full of them, actually,” I said, punching his arm lightly before going in for a hug. “C’mon, let’s head to that bar.”

We walked to the bar, laughing along the way.

--

Four shots and 35 minutes later, I was feeling super buzzed. I always forgot how much of a lightweight I had become. I couldn’t stop giggling whenever Carlos cracked a lame joke or I remembered how surreal this friendship was blooming.

“Carlos,” I said, still laughing. “I think I’m good now. Any more, and all you’re going to remember of me is how you had to lug me out of Coachella on the first day and what a total lame ass I was.”

“Okay, yeah, for sure,” Carlos said, signing his name on the check of the round he had just bought us. “We don’t want the little guy to get too fucked up already. We still got a whole lot of music and dancing to do!”

I rolled my eyes at Carlos’ incessant need to make me feel young. Given he was 25, so the four year age gap did feel a little big to me at the moment. Plus, the difference in size and height made me feel like his little brother at some points, especially when a few guys had come up to us asking if we were related.

“Yes! Dance, I want to dance!” I said, a little too excitedly. I instinctively felt my hips begin to slowly shake, my ass circling against the wall of the bar. I grabbed Carlos’ arm, and tugged him out into the festival grounds.

We walking around, looking at the art pieces, the Ferris wheel and the venue map. Along the way, we made several impromptu photo ops, uploading them to our respective social media pages. Hey, we were getting paid to promote the gig after all.

Finally, we decided to hang around the main stage to watch a few artists and then maybe cross over to the opposite side of the venue as the sun began to set.

“Let me post this pic real quick before we go,” Carlos said, his chest beginning to glisten with small beads of sweat. “I doubt we’ll have too much service once we get in that crowd.”

I nodded, still feeling my head reel from the vodka shots I downed earlier.

“Are you seriously hitting on me, faggot?” a voice said.

I turned to my left, seeing a tall, buff man wearing an opened button-up shirt and only a pair of red swim briefs as bottoms. He was glaring at a shocked, smaller man wearing a tank top and chinos.

“What’s your problem?” the smaller man said, backing away.

“MY problem?” the buff man said, scowling. “My problem is twinky fags like you think people want you. Why would I want, a soft-barely toned gay boy like you? Do you see me? I’m a god, and I wouldn’t be caught dead having a queer like you touching me.”

I squinted my eyes through my shades as I watched the smaller man walk away, dejectedly. The buff man returned back to talking to his other, similarly built friends, as they laughed at the other man’s expense.

“Wow,” Carlos said, who noticed the commotion as well. “I can’t stand dudes like that. Gay or not. I really wish they would get what it felt like to be treated like that.”

“Yeah, me too.” I said, still glaring at the group of three men.

Wait. I started to smile. That can absolutely be arranged. This would be the perfect opportunity to add a few more examples of my handiwork for the council. Taking douchebags down a few pegs – my specialty.

I closed my eyes briefly, and reopened them once the air grew still. I looked around; the world paused, except me, and the three bullies.

“Whoa, guys,” Douche 2 said. “What’s going on? Am I tripping real hard right now?”

“If you are, I am too,” Douche 3 said, moving his hands back and forth in front of his face.

“What the fuck,” Douche 1 said, scanning the area.

I smiled. Let the fun begin.

I started with the other two guys first, wanting to leave the speedo wearing dickwad for last. I focused on their bodies, their testosterone. I tapped into the minds, finding exactly what would repulse them the most.

It started subtly at first, a couple inches of height, then a little thinning of their arms and legs. Then it picked up, both the men simultaneously grabbing their stomachs.

“Fuck, I think I ate something bad,” Douche 3 said.

“You think it was the edible?” Douche 2 said.

Their pecs and stomachs slowly, but surely, began to lose mass. Then soften.

“Guys, what the fuck,” Douche 1 said, pointing. “You guys, you’re… you’re.”

Douche 2 and 3 stared at each other, eyes wide, realizing their transformations.

Their bodies continued to balloon with fat, softening up the little muscle mass they had remaining. Their pecs began to sag, forming man tits, their guts ballooning into beer guts years in the making. Their legs thickened into shapeless trunks, their short shorts tightening quicker and quicker, begging to rip at the seams. Their asses plumped into fat, wide globes that would make anyone blush at their size.

“Oh my fucking god, what’s happening to us?” Douche 3 said, tears beginning to flow down his chubby cheeks.

“I don’t want to be fat,” Douche 2 said, squeezing the love handles accumulating at his waist.

“What the fuck was in those edibles?” Douche 1 said, yelling, his eyes bulging out of his head. “I’m not going to end up fat pigs like you guys. I worked too damn hard for this bod.” He flexed his arms and legs, instinctively.

I laughed to myself. He could flex those muscles all he wanted, that wasn’t going to save them. He was right though. He wouldn’t end up overweight like his friends.

Also unlike his friends, I focused on something else first.

“Oh my god, dude,” Douche 2 said. “Your junk.”

“No, no, no!”

Just seconds before, the front of Douche 1’s speedo was a full as could be. Now, it looked to contain marbles and a pecker most men would likely try to cover up. With his powerful muscles, he now looked like a guy overcompensating for a less than stellar package.

But that was just the beginning. When he plummeted down from his 6’3” stature down to a measly 5’4”, that’s when the tears began to fall. But when his arms, legs, and torso began to collapse on themselves, that’s when he began to wail.

“No fucking way, no fucking way,” he shouted, endlessly. “Let me be fat, let me be fat. I can at least bulk up that way. I can’t beCOmE A twInK.”

He grabbed his throat, stunned at hearing his voice crack into the nasally whine of the flamboyant gay man he despised. He hyperventilated as he felt the seat of his briefs began to expand, filling with a supple, perky bubble butt any bottom (and top) would dream of.

“PLEaSe,” he said, crying. “Please no!”

And like that, the men’s transformations were complete. Gone were the three conceited, hunks. Now stood two overweight, insecure men, struggling to close the fronts of their shirts and hike their short lower to hide more of themselves, and one little twink, wearing a shirt much too large for his XS torso, and folding the top of his briefs so they could fit around his ass and diminished dick more comfortably.

That’s when all three men finally noticed me, smirking at them. For a moment, it seemed like they would yell at me to change them back. But then, their lips quivered, realizing their pleas would get them nowhere, and perhaps even somewhere even worse.

“Well don’t you three look just perfect now,” I said, clapping my hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix your clothes too.”

With the snap of my fingers, their outfits resized to their new bodies. The men rubbed themselves, still in disbelief of how they had changed.

“Now, if it was up to me, I would let you all remember exactly what happened to you and what you lose. But, luckily for you all, and unlucky for me, I’ve been banned from doing so in this circumstance. I hope you all have learned your lessons though.”

“We have! We have!” Douche 2 said.

“Yes! Please! Change us back!” Douche 3 said, wiping his tears.

“Aww, fellas,” I said. “You know I cannot do that.”

Their faces fell as the reality finally set in.

“But, I’ll alter the world so that this has always been how you have all looked. Gone are your lives as studs. Embrace yourselves, and spread body positivity to all your other gay friends. Sure, you might find most of them more attractive than you, but I’m sure they’ll love you just the same. Most of them, at least.” I shrugged, lifting my hand up in the air.

“Please!” Douche 1 started saying.

Snapping my fingers one more time, I reshaped the world, introducing these new men and altering their lives and everyone around them. They would no longer be douchebags – they’d be the kindest, most embracing gays in their social circle. And sure, they might experience similarly prejudice that they used to inflict on others, but they’d always stand up for themselves and anyone else that experienced the unjust bullying of people who thought they were better than them.

“Damn,” Carlos said, rubbing his head. “Maybe we both drank a little too much. I got so dizzy.”

Time was back to moving, as if nothing had happened.

“Guys! Let’s go!” the small man said to his chubby friends. “You guys need to help me find a hot daddy tonight!”

“Of course!” the two larger men said, patting their lithe friend on the back, before they all ran off to the main stage.

“Yeah, I think we both did drink too hard,” I said, rubbing Carlos’ back. “Wanna get some water before we go to the stage? We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Carlos said, smiling at me.

We started walking to the water stand, arms locked together, to avoid tripping as we both recovered from our heads spinning.

“Hey, Raul,” Carlos said, looking over to me.

“Yeah?”

“If you weren’t with Chad, would you want me to help you find a daddy like that guy that was just here?”

I looked at Carlos, scoffing while shaking my head. He burst out laughing at the look on my face.

“So now you think you got the jokes, huh?” I said, matching Carlos’ laughter.

“I’m full of them, buddy,” Carlos said, lightly punching me with his free arm.

“Lucky me,” I said, smiling.

Yeah, I think Coachella was just what I needed right now.

[thefateofdesire]

Future?

Hello, all.

By now we all know Tumblr’s decision to wipe out all “adult explicit content” from their website. Several of my posts have indeed been flagged as “explicit,” and that’s fine.

My lack of updating directly stems from my knowledge that this update was looming over my head, and questioning whether or not continuing my projects were worth it or not.

I still do not know the complete answer to that question. What I do know is this blog will not continue on the Tumblr platform for obvious reasons. The few options I have considered to repost content (sin Requests) have been: GaySpiralStories, CYOC, and creating a Patreon account.

I’ve determined that if this journey is to continue it will be on either GSS or CYOC, with a Patreon opening up early next year if the demand is there. If not, that’s fine. This passion project was just that: a project. And if this path is destined to end soon, it will. If it’s meant to continue to bloom, then I’ll let it.

Anyone that desires this content to be reposted to either GSS or CYOC, please like, reblog, or comment on this post as you wish. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee to keep the graphic aids from my stories, so your imagination will likely need to fill in the visuals gaps my content originally filled.

If you’re interested in TheFateOfDesire starting a Patreon account, please leave a comment or message for me to see. If my stories do get reposted, you can also let me know in the comments of the new sites.

I’m sorry things on this site have to cease the way they are - I wish they weren’t. Alas, remember, if your desire is great enough, you just might get your wish.

- Raul & Chad (The Fate of Desire)

[thefateofdesire]

Consequences - PART 2

“He’s guilty, your honor,” one voice said. “He knew the rules. He broke them. There’s no way about it.”

“Guilty,” said another across the room.

“He needs to learn his lesson,” a voice to my right said.

Where am I? Why can’t I move? It feels like I’m glued to this chair, but there’s no restraints anywhere on my body.

“Please,” I said, begging. “What’s going on here? I don’t know where I am.”

I scanned the dark room, faintly lit by a dull red glow along the perimeter. Shadowed, hooded figures sat at a table encircling me, conversing lowly.

That’s when I saw him: the same figure from my dream the night before. Although I never saw his face, it was unmistakably him.

“I’ve already begun the first phase of the pre-verdict punishment, until he is officially convicted,” he said, looking up from the table. He smiled again, an undeniable, dark smile, faintly lit by the glow in the room.

“Good,” another voice said. A woman. Sat directly across from me. Although shadowed like the rest of them, I could make out her long hair, billowing down upon the tabletop. Her acrylic nails tapped on the wood, drumming along as the other voices continued to gossip around me.

Punishment? Guilty? Was I on trial? For what? What crime could I have possibly done? I was 23, unemployed, living with my boyfriend, only helping with the rent and bills from the wealth my parents had accumulated over the years and I subsequently inherited throughout my life. Yes, I was privileged, but not so privileged to think I could ever get away with committing a crime. That just wasn’t me.

“Please,” I repeated. “I don’t know what you all think I did, but I swear I didn’t do it. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I agree with the man,” another woman said, softly. I searched for the source of her voice, but could not place her among the crowd of others. “He was just doing things for the better good.”

“He knew the rules,” the Shadowed Man said. “They are unbreakable. He’ll have time to defend himself further once the current punishment has run its course.”

“I agree,” Head Woman said. “Let the pre-verdict punishment continue, and once it concludes, then we’ll hear this man’s case. Every action has a consequence. This situation is no different.”

This was insane. I was being tried as guilty without even knowing my crime, and being punished for it immediately without any kind of remorse. This was not happening.

“You can’t do th-” My sentence was cut off by the deafening slam of the Head Woman’s gavel.

I felt the room spin, and my vision started to blur together. Another shock of electricity coursed through my body, covering every inch of my skin and muscles instantaneously. My muscles felt like they were being pulled apart, squeezed, and massaged, while my bones cracked and contorted like they were made of dough.

I yelled in agony, suddenly able to feel every cell in my body. They were all changing. They felt… new. Different. Strange… yet familiar.

“God, please make this stop!” I screamed, seemingly for hours.

And, eventually, it did.

--

I jolted up, my body drenched in sweat. My lungs pushed the carbon dioxide out of my body in quick spurts as I felt my legs tremble beneath me.

Another nightmare. Another terrible, unexplainable nightmare. And even worse, it felt like it was a continuation from the night before, but only more vivid this time.

“Fuck,” I said, groaning while rubbing my head. Maybe I should just stop with the scary movies. This was beginning to become too much.

“Babe?” Chad said, calling from the kitchen. “You okay? I heard you scream.”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “Just another nightmare.” I rolled over on my side, searching for my phone. Shit. I forgot to plug it in last night. I must have completely blanked after the movie, and after Chad and I… well got my mind off of the movie. I smiled to myself.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Chad said. “Come here, I made food already for us to eat.”

“Sounds good, baby,” I said, pulling the sheets back. I laughed. Guess I forgot to put on anything to sleep too. “I’ll be right there.”

I scanned the room for my jock strap or swim shorts, but couldn’t find either. Chad probably threw them in the hamper this morning. The room looked cleaner than it even was after I cleaned it yesterday. He always was such a neat freak.

“I just love organization”, he always said. “I got it in my early 20s, ironically, cause I used to be such a slob in my teen years. But once I moved into this place, that’s when I just realized how much happier I was when everything was in its right place.”

I always joked Chad would be a great Dad one day. He was caring, protecting, smart, clean. Sure he was just four years my senior, and kids were definitely not on our timeline for a very, very long time, but I couldn’t help but feel like Chad really would be the best Dad there was.

I sometimes wondered what it would be like to date a younger guy, instead of being the younger guy. But then I remembered I wouldn’t trade my 26-year-old boyfriend for anything. I was lucky. Most other older guys would just see “22” in my Tinder profile and immediately swipe left because they think I’m just a “dumb young twunk.” I guess two out of three wasn’t entirely false… but I wasn’t stupid… just not that bright. Chad never made me feel stupid. I just had a lot to learn.

Wrapping a towel around my waist that I found hanging over a chair from the evening before, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror across the room.

Damn, Chad was right. The extra weights and reps I was incorporating into my workouts were definitely paying off.

Turning around, I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. Chad was sitting on the counter, lost in thought while he watched the news on the TV. He was truly the most perfect man on Earth.

“Mmm, smells good,” I said, noticing the French toast already plated and resting on the kitchen table.

Chad tore his gaze from the TV and smiled at me.

“Why thank you, handsome,” he said, hopping down. “You look very, very sexy this morning, my baby boy.” He kissed my lips, lingering a second too long, purposely teasing me.

“So do you, babe,” I said, shifting my weight to one side, trying to hide the growing tent underneath my towel.

We made out some more, my semi turning into full-on throbbing morning wood. Chad’s hand slid underneath my towel, unfastening the lazy knot I had made to keep the piece of cloth resting in place. The towel fell to the ground, exposing myself fully. I shivered as the cool air from the AC touched my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand up, and my hard-on even more rigid.

“Oops,” Chad said, smirking. “My bad.” His hand slid down further, grabbing all seven inches of me.

Seven? I could’ve swore I was eight… I looked up at Chad, my eyes taking longer to reach his eyes than I anticipated… I suddenly felt like I was falling from a bridge. Like one of those dreams where you’re falling through the air and everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. I gasped when I felt Chad’s hand against my face, causing the room to stop spinning.  

“What’s wrong, cutie?” Chad said, holding my chin up. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my words coming out slowly. “I just feel really small right now. I can’t explain it.”

“Oh, baby, is it cause I grabbed you?” Chad moved his hand off my member and moved it up to my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know you get self-conscious about your size sometimes. But, like I tell you, six and half inches is still above average. And it really doesn’t matter to me. You’re perfect.” He kissed my lips.

“I know, I know,” I said, sighing. “I don’t know what came over me. I also felt like I was shrinking or something or you grew taller. I don’t know.” I shook my head. I sounded dumb, like a kid talking to his older friend. My insecurity was overbearing sometimes. I guess that’s I get for dating an older man who’s bigger than me in every aspect.

“My love,” Chad said, smiling. “I’m pretty positive you didn’t shrink and I’m even more sure I didn’t grow. I’m still six foot two, last I checked. And you’re standing proud at five feet and five and a half inches.”

I smiled. He always emphasized the half for me because he knew it made me feel better. I hugged him, suddenly feeling much safer.

“You’re right,” I said, laughing. “Sorry, you know how I just get sometimes. Come on, let’s eat, before the food gets cold.”

--

A few hours had past - the minute hand on our clock in the living room crept just past noon. Chad and I were lounging on the couch after we finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen. Chad was still clad in only his shorts, but I decided to throw on a t-shirt and snapback, still recovering from my small episode of insecurity.

“So, what do you want to do today, Raul?” Chad asked, still watching the news broadcast on the TV.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The pool yesterday was really nice.”

“It was wasn’t it?” Chad’s hand found my forearm and started to move back and forth slowly. “Wanna do that again? The weather’s even better today than it was yesterday.”

“Eh,” I began, “I know you don’t really like doing the same thing twice in a row.”

We sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company. I wasn’t entirely following what the reporters on the news were talking about. They were talking about stocks, I think. The segment was on investments, buying shares and when was the right time to do it all.

I hated math; couldn’t do it to save my life. Once, I asked Chad how long dinner was going to take and he told me 35 minutes, but I repeated:

“So, when’s dinner going to be ready?”

“Thirty-five minutes, babe,” Chad said, looking up at me.

I stared at him, blankly, smiling softly.

“What?” Chad asked.

“I… That’s too much math for me, Chad,” I said, blushing and rubbing the back of my head.

Chad laughed loudly. He teased me for the rest of the night, but I knew it was all in good fun.

I chuckled to myself, my daydream fading away. I smiled at Chad. God, I was so in love with him.

CLICK.

“Woah, woah, woah,” I said, blinking dramatically. “What was that for?”

“That,” Chad began, “was to take a picture of my beautiful boy.”

We laughed, wrestling with each other on the couch until we fell onto the floor. Chad might be taller than me by eight and half inches and have a few extra pounds on me, but I was no wimp. I managed to roll on top of him, pinning him down for a couple seconds, before he flipped me over onto my back, careful enough to ensure my head didn’t bang too hard on the carpet.

“Oh, so someone wants to play rough today huh,” Chad said, holding down my chest, squeezing my pecs through the fabric of my shirt.

“Yeah,” I said, squirming underneath his hands. “You know I love it rough.” I pushed my hands against the carpet beneath me, managing to sit up halfway before Chad softly pushed me back down onto my back.

“And you know I love that you love it rough,” Chad said, smiling. He eased off me, lying down beside me. He intertwined his fingers with mine, both of us staring into the ceiling, smiling.

“What about the beach?” Chad asked, looking over at me.

“Oh my god, that’s the perfect idea!” I said, sitting upright.

Chad and I hadn’t gone to the beach in ages, since we renovated the pool I think. Once we had the pool system up and running, we simply didn’t see why we needed to really go out to enjoy the sun and water. But, right now, the sand and the smell of the ocean seemed like the perfect thing to get me out of my head and distract myself from the weird vibes I had been feeling since I woke up.

“Then it’s settled,” Chad said, standing up. “Let’s just change real quick and we’ll be out of here. You can pack your swim shorts in my backpack; I kind of want to go for a light run along the pier before we lounge out for a couple hours.” He extended his hand out towards me, lifting me to my feet with ease.

“Okay, sounds great!” I said, switching off the TV and gathering the straggling pillows that fell from the couch during Chad’s and I’s horseplay.

Chad had been pushing me to incorporate more cardio into my routine, but I was always too paranoid of the idea of accidentally slimming down instead of bulking up. But, Chad was insistent that helping my cardiovascular health outweighed the possibility of my muscle tissues trimming down from occasional light cardio.

Chad squeezed my hand lightly before we headed back into the bedroom. He headed into the restroom as I stripped off my tee and hat. I grabbed a straw hat from our closet and quickly changed into a pair of grey sweat shorts. I opened my nightstand drawer, searching through my collection of sunglasses before settling on a pair of yellow-lensed shades.

BUZZ.

Placing the glasses on my face, I walked over to my now fully charged phone and saw a new picture message illuminating the screen.

What do you think?

“Chad, did you seriously just text me from the bathroom right now?” I said, laughing.  

“Yeah,” Chad said, smiling as he walked back into the bedroom. “And what about it?”

“You’re such a dork sometimes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Especially when you wear your reading glasses.”

“Hey, I can’t help it,” Chad said, shrugging. He removed his glasses and set them on his nightstand before kissing me on the lips. “I’m gonna pack some beers into the ice chest, maybe make a couple sandwiches. Whenever you’re ready, just meet me in the kitchen.”

I nodded as Chad walked back down the hallway. I was basically ready, but I was still trying to shake the odd dizzy spell I had earlier. What was up with me lately? Weird dreams, random bursts of insecurity. I looked back at the picture Chad sent me on my phone and felt a chill roll up my spine. God, I was really extra horny lately too. I probably was just over thinking everything.

I headed to the bathroom to spray some cologne in my hair and on my chest. I smirked at myself in the mirror, tightening my abs and biting my lip. Pulling out my phone, I angled it just enough to get the shadow off my face.

CLICK.

I smiled. Now, I was ready.

--

“Okay,” I said, my hands resting on my knees as I hunched over. “That… that was definitely not a light run.”

After Chad and I found parking in the lot closest to our favorite part of the beach, Chad determined we should run to the edge of the pier and back. Me, being foolish, failed to predict how far that really was.

“Okay, maybe I pushed it a bit…” Chad said, his chest rising rhythmically. “Six miles is kind of a lot when you’re just starting to add cardio into your workouts.”

“Chad,” I said, still struggling to breathe. “I could’ve dealt with one… maybe two miles, but to say this was ‘kind of’ a lot is a bit of an understatement to say the actual least. And why we had to run down to the sand before we got everything from the car… I don’t understand how that happened either.”

Finally able to stand upright, I pressed my lips in a tight line, trying to force myself to breathe through my nose to lower my heart rate.

“You are too cute when you get mad,” Chad said, ruffling my hair softly. “You always try to speak so eloquently.”

Ignoring the half-insult, I glanced up at our car in the lot. The parking lot sat ontop of a cliff, and a large concrete staircase connected it to the actual beach, Chad’s and I’s favorite area near the lifeguard hut was unoccupied, thankfully, or I would’ve flipped and blamed Chad and his “light” run for costing us that spot. It was close enough to the water without being at risk of high tide, but I loved it the most because it was the ideal spot to tan.

“Yeah, yeah, Chad,” I said, looking over at him. He was looking at our car too now, probably realizing how inconvenient the 5-minute walk back to the car and carrying our ice chest, towels, and his backpack back down to our spot actually was. Nevertheless, the slight sweat trickling down his neck and between his pecs quickly allowed my annoyance to fade.

“Let’s just go get our st-”

I shut my eyes tightly, another dizzy spell falling down on me. Suddenly, I heard a voice. It spoke softly at first, but grew louder as time past.

Every action has a consequence.

The words rang in my head over and over as an overwhelming wave of coolness washed over me.

“Raul?” Chad said, furrowing his brows. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem lost today.”

Every. Action.

I looked up at Chad, worry written all over his face. The sweat dripping down his chest and onto the blazing sand below us contrasted between the excruciating cold I felt in my bones. I inhaled deeply, trying to find the words.

Consequence.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Everything’s completely fine. Let’s just go get our things.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Chad said, walking over to me and holding my hand. “I’ll go get them. Just sit down in the shade beside the lifeguard stand. I won’t be long.”

Chad squeezed my hand before jogging back up to our car. I sat down in the shade, holding my head before adjusting my shorts a bit. Strange… I thought, they seemed almost longer, but then… they didn’t.

“I really hope everything is actually alright,” I said, softly, watching the waves crash against the sand.

--

END OF PART 2.

UPDATED STATS:

Raul: Age 22, 5 foot 5, IQ 102, 180 pounds, submissive

Chad: Age 26, 6 foot 2 ½, IQ 123, 195 pounds, dominant

[thefateofdesire]

Hi, hackerman. As you’re able to orchestrate such a feat, I figured you might know enough to give an estimate as to their current IQs. Thanks.

uPdaT3D wiTH IQ sC0ReS 4 ConVenIenCE

[thefateofdesire]

Consequences - PART 1

I looked around, but I could not see. Well, I could see, but it was too dark to make out anything. The only reason I knew I was able to see at all was a single shimmer of light straight ahead of me down a long, thin hallway.

“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone out there?”

I walked slowly, hesitant to reach the end. My heart raced in my chest. Beads of sweat formed at my hairline and slowly trickled its way down the sides of my head, like a glass of water condensing in a warm room. This room was pretty warm, actually… dark and warm.

Before I could reach the end of the hall, a shadowed figure came into view.

“Hello?” I asked again.

The figure said nothing, but somehow I felt like I could see it smiling faintly in the aura of the light behind it.

“Who are you?” I asked, nervously.

The figure raised one of its hands slowly out towards me. I thought it was trying to grab me, so I quickly took a few steps back.

“Please,” I said, “I don’t understand.”

“You will, soon enough,” the figure said, chuckling softly. “Every decision comes with a consequence, and you’re about to find that out the hard way.”

I turned to run down the hallway when I felt its hand grip my shoulder strongly.

I screamed.

--

“Babe,” Chad said, shaking me softly. “Babe, wake up!”

I jerked up suddenly, panting.

“Chad?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, my love, I’m right here.” Chad grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. “You were having a pretty wild dream.”

It was all just a dream. I was sitting in my bed, next to my boyfriend. There was no figure, no shadowed hand, no enveloping darkness. It was all just a dream.

“A nightmare, really,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “It felt so real.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, cutie,” Chad said, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh. “At least it’s all over now.”

“That’s true, Chad,” I said, nodding.

I pondered my dream over and over in my head. I hadn’t had such a surreal experience like that since I was learning my specialization in shapeshifting. Night terrors, sleep paralysis, and nightmares were all common side effects from intense spell studying. Something about this dream reminded me about those couple years I trained to master my skill. But, this dream felt much more insidious. Like, I was being convicted or something. I couldn’t shake the feeling off.

Suddenly, I felt a jolt course through my body. My skin grew warm and the tingling traveled up from my toes up to my head. I felt the shock enter my brain, traveling through every synapse like an electric current. I reached my hand up to my head, hovering just above my temple, unable to rest it completely against my scalp. I groaned, in pain and confusion, unable to understand what exactly was going on.

The muscle fibers in my arms, torso and legs pulsed, contracting and relaxing repeatedly. It felt like I was in the middle of the most intense workout of my entire life, without moving a single inch. Simultaneously, it felt like my bones were being crushed and condensed like they were not meant to be where they were. It was pure euphoria, fear and bewilderment all at once.  

Yet, as sudden as the sensation began, it subsided. My body ached immensely, but then recovered in an instant. My brain, however, felt fried, like I hadn’t slept in years.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“You felt that too?” Chad asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I-” I stopped mid-sentence. Felt what? What was Chad talking about? I looked up at him; ready to ask what he meant when I was distracted by something else much more pressing.

“Woah, when did you get glasses?” I asked.

“Ha ha, Raul,” Chad said, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m sensitive about my reading glasses, but I need to wear them. The optometrist told me if I don’t, I’d probably need to wear corrective lenses all the time in a few years. It makes me feel old, sure, but I gotta do what I gotta do.”

“You know I just love teasing you, old man,” I said, jokingly. I loved teasing Chad about his glasses, and how he was two years older than me. Sure, 25 isn’t old at all, but I always loved emphasizing that it was still older than 23.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Raul,” Chad said, laughing. He kissed me quickly before leaving the bed. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, cutie. I need to get ready to head to the studio. I have another shoot today. Join me if you want.”

I watched Chad walk into the bathroom, checking out how his legs filled out his boxer briefs in the process. Damn, he was so fine. He had such a great ass too. Not as great as mine, of course. But, it didn’t matter anyways. He was a total top, and I was his bottom.

Wait. That… that sounded wrong for some reason. Wasn’t I usually the one who top-

Fuck, I look good today. I caught myself in the reflection of my half-length mirror propped up against the wall facing my side of my bed. My idea, of course. I loved starting my day checking out my body, seeing my muscles highlighted by the natural light pouring in through the shades.

“You coming, Raul?” Chad said, calling from the bathroom.

“Yeah, babe, sorry!” I said, hurrying to the bathroom, pulling my briefs down in the process.

“Woah,” Chad said, chuckling. “Someone got a little excited in the bedroom.”

I looked down, noticing my half-hard member.

“Hey, I can’t help it,” I said, shrugging. “You really fucked me good last night. I can almost still feel you inside me.”

“Raul,” Chad said, laughing loudly. “You’re ploy to get a quick round in right now just isn’t going to work. I really need to rush to the studio. They want me shoot half the shoot behind the camera and the second half in front. We’re doing an early spring/summer wear spread to get ahead of the game.”

“Fine,” I said, whining a bit. “I guess I’ll let you get ready. I think today I’m gonna just watch TV, maybe clean up around the house a bit. I wanted to start that new scary show on Netflix, but maybe I should just wait for you. We all know I’m not the best at watching those things alone.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” Chad said, rinsing the soap off from his body. “Remember that one time you listened to the spooky podcast and we had to watch YouTube afterwards because you were insistent you were going to get possessed by a demon?”

I laughed. God, sometimes I really was such a wimp. But, I was glad I had my man to protect me, from real threats and potentially not-so-real ones.

“Okay, shorty,” Chad said, moving past me to step out of the shower. “I gotta dry off.”

“Shorty?” I said, annoyed.

“Yeah, shorty,” Chad repeated. “Forreal, I feel like you’re shrinking; look.” Chad snapped a quick picture of me and held out his phone as he put on his clothes.

“Okay, that’s just an unflattering angle,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not that short. I’m five foot eight for god’s sake.”

“Five foot eight?” Chad said, running hair product through his hair. “More like five six and a half, five seven if I’m feeling generous.”

“Okay, well not all of us are blessed to be six feet tall, Chad,” I said, shutting off the water.

“Touché,” Chad said, finishing up his hair. “Okay, beautiful. I gotta run. I hope you have a great day, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Chad walked over to the shower, where I still sat naked on the shower bench. He kissed me softly before waving goodbye and heading out the door.

Quickly towel drying my body, I heard the front door close. I looked in the mirror, striking a few poses in the process, before deciding I was too lazy to style my hair or wear any clothes at all for that matter. I hopped back into bed, wrapping myself in the sheets.

Grabbing the TV remote, I opened the YouTube app to try to find something to watch. I scrolled through our subscriptions, rolling my eyes at the amount of news thumbnails I saw. CNN, Vox, Vice, you name it. I never understood how Chad could be subscribed to those channels. Sure, I watched the videos with him when he wanted to, but I genuinely just lost interest before too long.

Finally, something interesting: 10 Things You May Not Know You Could Make With Peanut Butter.

--

After spending a couple hours spiraling down the YouTube rabbit hole, I was bored.

Sigh. I guess I should get my day started.

Kicking off the sheets, I walked over to my dresser to find a cute pair of underwear to squeeze into.

Huh. That’s weird. Where did all my trunks and briefs go? And why was my drawer only full of jock straps? When the fuck did I buy jock straps, let alone wear them?

I shook my head. What was I saying? I forgot to do the laundry from last week. I was supposed to be cleaning. That’s where my other underwear was. And of course I owned jock straps. I loved how my ass looked in them.

Grabbing a black pair, I slipped them on and walked back to the restroom to have a good look.

Yeah, that’s what I was talking about. I had to send this to Chad to give him a little taste of what was waiting for him back at home.

Grabbing the hampers from the closet, I headed to the laundry room to separate Chad’s clothes and mine. If I didn’t at least clean something I’m sure Chad wouldn’t be too happy with me.

BUZZ.

Finally, Chad responded.

Damn, baby. You look so hot. I can’t wait to see you. We’re finishing up the shoot right now. Can you heat up the hot tub? They’re letting us take home some pairs of swim shorts and I kind of want to test them out while the sun’s still out. What do you think? See you in about an hour.

Goddamn, hell yeah I would heat up the Jacuzzi. I quickly put a load of laundry in and ran outside to turn on the heater.

--

“I’m home, Raul,” Chad said, closing the door behind him.

“I’m in the laundry room, Chad,” I said, hastily changing out my darks with his. Hey, I needed more underwear. I took priority.

“You haven’t finished yet?” Chad asked. I heard the jingle from his keys clink on the countertop, as well as the light thud of his phone and wallet. “I’m gonna go swim a few laps around the pool before we go in the hot tub together, alright? I’ll meet you outside.”

Perfect. Now I could change into my red shorts and straighten up the bedroom to try to hide the fact that I did literally nothing while Chad was working.

I gathered a few of Chad’s photography books and put them back on the bookshelf, made the bed, drew the blinds, and wiped down the glass in the bathroom. That’ll have to do for now.

Opening the sliding glass door, I felt my shorts tighten.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Chad asked, water dripping from the strands of hair draped across his chiseled face. “Like what you see?”

Had Chad been working out? His muscles seemed to be more pronounced than lately.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding meekly. “I love what I see.”

“Well,” Chad said, inching closer towards me. “Get down on your knees. Don’t think you’re getting this that easy.”

I knelt down before my man, staring up in amazement at his beauty. God, how did I get so lucky? A photographer and model, smarter than any other guy I ever dated, and the best sex I’ve ever had.

Me, on the other hand… sure I had my magic, my family’s money, great looks… but I really wasn’t all that smart. Not the dumbest there could be, but Chad’s intelligence did often intimidate me. It made feel even more submissive to his demands whenever he asked. Which was fine, of course.

Ugh. My head is hurting again. Why? Why does something just seem so off?

“Yeah, babe,” Chad said, breaking my thoughts for a bit. “Just like I like it. You look so perfect, baby boy. Those extra reps in your workouts are really making a difference.”

“I do have a little bad news though,” Chad continued. “Turns out, I’m actually six foot one. We all measured our heights today when we were fitting for our shorts. So, I guess you really are kind of short, cause that would place you closer to five foot six.”

My head throbbed. I’m five foot eight… and aren’t I the dominant one? And I’m not dumb; I’m smart. I’m a marketing manager for a recording studio. Chad and I are both 24… what was happening to us?

Chad walked over to me and bent down, giving me a peck on my cheek. I smiled.

God, what’s getting into me? So what if I’m shorter than I thought and I’m not that smart? I’m still the luckiest 23-year-old in LA. Chad said he’d try to hook me up with some other photographers so I could model too. Everything was going to be fine. I needed to stop stressing.

“That’s okay, beautiful,” I said, still smiling. “Let’s just get in the Jacuzzi.”

Helping me up to my feet, Chad and I stepped into the water together, feeling each other’s bodies in the process.

Ugh, yeah. Everything was going to be just fine.

--

END OF PART 1

UPDATED STATS:

Raul: 23, 5 foot 6, IQ 108, 175 pounds.

Chad: 25, 6 foot 1, IQ 118, 185 pounds

[thefateofdesire]

What inspired you to take on this project hacker? ;)

B3caUS3 rAUL ThiNKs h3 w0nT b3 puNIsH3D 4 bR3aKiNG MaGiC c0De bY exPoSiNG hiS P0w3rS 2 u ALL... hE iS MiStAk3N...

[thefateofdesire]

Hi Hacker... where's Raul and Chad now?

TH3iR CHaNG3S HaV3 AlR3ADY B3GuN... TH3Y WiLL B3 GrADUaL... i iMAgiN3 Y0Ull S33 Th3M S00N... LiK3LY WiTHiN TH3 W33K... RaUL N ChAD w0NT Kn0W WhAT HiT Th3M... ThANK u aLL 4 V0TiNG...