Blog with transformation stories. Mature content so only enter when you're 18+. Don't forget to like/reblog if you like it ;) Want access to my stories in advance? Check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/transformheaven?fan_landing=true
“Tristan what are you doing!” Mr. Anderson came into the living room and found his son sitting cross-legged on the floor. Only this was not the son, Mr. Anderson had seen sleeping in bed minutes prior, this was a young man with the physicality of an avid gym member. His arms, torso, thighs, and legs triple their normal size. The Santa hat Mr. Anderson put on Tristan's head, tucking his curls away before bed, now had the hair spilling out.
Mr. Anderson spotted a bitten cookie in Tristan’s hand. “Did you eat Santa’s cookies?”
“I only had a few.” Tristan stated.
“Oh, this is bad…this is very bad.” Mr. Anderson walked back and forth. “No wonder you look like,” he stopped and gestured towards his son, “that.” He ran his hands down his face. “You pissed off Santa.”
“Santa’s not real.” Tristan pouted.
“Who the hell would tell you something so stupid? Of course, Santa is real, you think parents have time to do all that Christmas shopping?” Mr. Anderson paced in the living room. “Santa hates coming to the suburbs. Been told that all my life. The houses are too far apart. The only thing–ONLY THING–He looks forward to his cookies and milk. We’re never supposed to fuc–MESS with it.”
“But I was so hungry and when I came down, they looked so good.” He pulled a cookie off the floor behind him. He had stolen a handful and created a stash, “I ate one and my stomach got warm. I got hungrier, so I kept eating.”
“Santa probably turned you into an athlete as punishment. Their metabolisms are like trash compactors. He’s trying to tell you to stop being greedy.” He looked at his son. Where did the underwear and socks even come from? He had never brought something that size. Santa might have been more pissed than he thought.
“Why would Santa do that?” He scoffed in a way that was unlike the boy Mr. Anderson knew. This Tristan had some bite to him. “We fucking baked them. He should be grateful."
“Shhhh!” Mr. Anderson looked up like the ceiling was about to fall on their heads. More upset about that than the language his son was using. “He could be listening. Try to stay on his good side; he might turn you back.”
Tristan presented the cookie in his hands to his father, “Are you sure you don’t want a bite?” He asked with dog-like puppy eyes. Mr. Anderson finally spotted the icing on Tristan's chest, resting on his pecs and between the valley. Santa wasn’t fucking around.
“No! Definitely not,” he tapped his foot, mind racing, “Maybe we should get on our knees and grovel.”
“I’m not groveling for shit.” Tristan replied. The personality of his older body seemed incongruent with making amends. Was that what Santa wanted, a reason to punish him further? Tristan bit into the cookie and munched on it, shoveling more into his mouth until it was gone. He let out a rude belch in the house. “Whew, that was great.” He had a dopey grin on his face.
Mr. Anderson waited for a deer to charge into the house and bowl Tristan over. Thankfully it didn't happen. Instead, what did happen was Tristan disappeared. He was there one minute, then gone the next. Mr. Anderson turned around looking for his son. He didn’t need to look far. His son popped up back in the dining room, sitting by the kitchen table. Except now he was in pajamas, another cookie in hand. Mr. Anderson watched as Tristan’s bottoms slid down and a festive jockstrap was revealed. The full scope of his body in view.
“Whoa,” Tristan said.
“Okay, son. Put down the cookie.” Mr. Anderson held out a hand. He had no idea where Santa’s plan was going, but he got the feeling it was vindictive.
Tristan smirked, “Nah.” He put it in his mouth, almost daring his dad to stop him. Then bit into it.
He paused for a moment, hand rubbing over his abs. “Oh that tingles.” His stomach gurgled, happily digesting Santa’s meal.
“Son, Santa’s not gonna forgive you for this. He’s gonna come for our suburban life and punish us.”
“How is he going to do that?” Tristan’s voice was full of arrogance. His stomach churned again, His hand moved lower.
“I don’t know, but we shouldn’t attempt to find out.” Mr. Anderson whispered. He was never going to get presents again from Santa, all because his son decided to do late night snacking.
Tristan pulled his pajama bottoms up a tad. “The tingle is moving lower,” he said as he got up and knelt in the chair. “I think it’s going to my ass dad,” and took another bite of Santa’s cookies. “Mmmmm. Oh yeah that’s exactly where it’s going,” He stuck his luscious rump out.
“Tristan, don’t joke like that.” Mr. Anderson joked out, unable to keep his eyes from roaming. The father’s cock throbbed in his own pajamas. “And didn’t I tell you to stop with Santa’s cookies?”
“But Santa still has a whole plate,” Tristan whined. “And I’m not joking; my ass IS tingling… I think it needs something.”
“What?” Mr. Anderson was far removed from current reality, too worried about Santa’s next move.
Tristan’s eyes went lower on his dad’s body. “I need your cock dad. I need it in my ass soooo bad.” Tristan closed his eyes, breathing heavily.
Mr. Anderson, caught off guard, said nothing. His cock twitched in response though.
Turning fully around on the chair, Tristan present his ass to his own dad, “Please fuck me.”
One foot forward, cock leading the way, Mr. Anderson brushed up against something. He looked down. A colorful gift box that matched Tristan’s jockstrap appeared there. He leaned down shaking and wondered if Santa had ever tricked someone into opening a grenade. The top came off smoothly. No bomb inside. There was a simple note, and a lump of coal. He picked up the note.
“Merry Christmas Mr. Anderson,
Boys who steal other people's things get coal. Good dads should be rewarded with hunks.
Enjoy,
Santa ;)”
Mr. Anderson looked back up at Tristan, ass out, waiting—needing. He continued to move closer, closing the gap.
The bell rings, as gym class is finally over. I usually just skipped this class, but god I needed some credit on it. Anyways, I also have a very... Special reason to come here today. I'm gonna get revenge on Andrew
This is me, Matthew. I’m freshly turned 18, and as you can see, a bit of a twink. This would’ve never been a problem, i’m gay as i can be, but the issue is, i’m a top. And i have a 3 inch pecker on “top” of that. No guy i know wants a skinny twerp to top them. But my fortune is about to change.
Last night, i was visited in my dreams by something. It said i was chosen by it to bring change, and that my power was to be my voice, for me to do as i pleased. When i woke up, i realized it was real and not a dream. I told my mom she looked so young for her age, and her wrinkles instantly dissapeared. I tried to point it out later, but she didn’t notice it all either. With this knowledge in mind, i began planning my rise.
As i exited the locker room shower, just as i’d hoped, Andrew stood in my way
Andrew was unfairly hot. He had unnaturally big EVERYTHING. From being so jacked you’d swear he was using roids, to being tall AND having a truly massive dick. He was basically running this place, fucking girls left and right, having an influential dad and well, looking like this. He was also, as you’d guess, the biggest jerk you know.
“Hey, Andy.” I said, mockingly
“Someone’s got an attitude today. Looking to get beat up again, faggot? What happened, were you unable to jerk your baby sized dick this morning?” He answered, smiling confidently. Oh this was gonna be good.
I took a deep breath.
Well, it's now or never
"Opposite, actually. My dick is kinda sore, on account on me having to use it so much. When you’ve got a thing this big, it requires using, y’know?." I said, trying not to cringe
Then... I felt something. Like my brain had just skipped a beat. My crotch felt heavier. I let the towel go and... There it was. Holy shit. My dick was fucking massive. It was easily what, 12 inches? Maybe even bigger. I just stood there, smiling at Andrew.
His eyes widened, he looked confused even.
"Y-yeah, whatever. What use is a dick this big when you're just a skinny loser? I bet my forearm is bigger than that bony thigh of yours." He replied, trying to change the subject
I laughed.
"Skinny? Dude, i’m bigger than you. I’ve been training longer, harder than you for years now. Why are we lying again?
As the words left my mouth, I looked down and... Fuck. I was so big. My arms were gigantic mountains. My pecs were so huge I could barely see my feet, and my legs were tree trunks. My mind began to race, and my dick instantly hardened. I was this close to orgasming right there
“I-i… The fuck you getting hard for? Fucking fag! Just because you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean i can’t still fuck you up, Matt, you little shit!”
I stared at Andrew. Or better, Andy, as he was going to be known from now on.
“Look, just because you want me to fuck you, doesn’t mean you gotta put up all of this to attract my attention. You’re already my type, Andy.”
“W-what t-the fuck are you talking about…?” He said, looking disoriented
“Your slender frame is pretty fuckin’ sexy, Andy. I wanna grab your little waist with my hands, shove your bubble butt on my cock and watch as you moan and your tiny dick cums onto my chest. And i know you want that too”
Andrew went silent, as his body transformed right in front of me. His muscles deflated, leaving only the bare minimum, his clothes falling off his now skinny frame, and his cock going from huge to tiny in a matter of seconds. His butt didn’t change much, he always did have a pretty juicy one, but his features also softened, leaving more of twink and less of alpha jock
“Matt…” He said, with a much softer voice now “I really want to fuck right now. Please” The hunger in his eyes was enough for me.
“Knew it.” I said, as my cock bursted a stream of cum on the floor. Fuck! I got excited too fast!
Andy looked at me, in shock
“Huh… Don’t worry babe, i can cum a lot in one sitting” I said, feeling my balls churn more and more semen. From now on, his life was gonna be something else, man.
He approached me, putting his hands on my pecs
"Your body... It's insane..." He said, with barely contained lust
"What can i say, i've worked for it." I said, laughing loudly
"He got on his knees, and like he was starving, began to suck my dick.
"This is just the beggining" I thought to myself "I"m gonna have so much fun."
Dorian was on his way home from work with a pit in his stomach. Unfortunately, there weren't any traffic jams, so it seemed Dorian would have to face his boyfriend without delay.
Dorian and Patrick loved each other more than anything, but somewhere along the way, the sexual spark had started to fade. To Dorian, this was fine, but Patrick's libido was much higher. Dorian agreed to an open relationship, but Patrick always said he wanted Dorian more than anyone else. To try and reignite the spark, they made Wednesdays their sex day — and ever since, Dorian dreaded going home on Wednesdays.
As expected, Dorian got home right on time. As he opened the door, the usual smells from the kitchen were already missing. Patrick always made the most delicious meals for them both. Today, no noise came from the kitchen.
As Dorian walked towards the kitchen, he heard some murmuring from upstairs. When he arrived in their bedroom, Dorian saw a behemoth of a man standing next to their bed.
"Who the fuck are you, and where is Patrick?" Dorian wanted to yell, as he realised that he did in fact know the man in front of him. It was his boyfriend. Now that he thought about it, for the last hour or so, he memorized to versions of Patrick. The nerdy one that he knew was the "original", because Patrick and Dorian were like twins. Since this afternoon, another version appeared: the one Dorian saw in front of him right now.
As the man turned around, Dorian noticed how absolutely jacked the man was. His back arched out into a V-shape that Dorian never dreamed of seeing in real life. It was only when Dorian saw the man's pecs that protruded from his tight 8-pack abs that he realised that the man who was standing there was completely naked.
"Hey, bro, how are you? Look what finally came today!" the new Patrick said as he waved something that looked like a phone in the air.
The second Dorian saw the phone, he remembered that weeks ago Patrick had been going on a tangent about this reality-changing programme. Dorian had zoned out occasionally, so the details were fuzzy. He started to get dizzy as the version of his boyfriend that worked out daily fought for memory space with the memory of his nerdy boyfriend.
"Seems like that reality-changing thing works!" Dorian said.
"Okay, you zoned out again when I spoke about it, didn't you, bro? Anyway, now I am absolutely your type!" Patrick, his calm and collected Patrick, was jumping up and down like a little kid.
"Oh honey, you know it was never about your looks. I love you for who you are, in fact I fear that this Chronivac-thing is changing your personality. This whole bro-type personality? It's not you, you know?" Dorian looked his boyfriend directly in the eyes and felt sad that he made the man he loved look for such radical solutions to his lack of libido.
"I didn't want to change myself for you, bro. I just hoped that, with a higher libido, I wouldn't mind our relationship being open as much. You know?"
"Also, not a fan that you can change all of reality, and I wouldn't even know. So from now on, the phone will always stay near me, and we can only use it when the other person is looking as well."
"Ugh, why don't you trust me, bro? It's not like I'd make you into anything you wouldn't like." Patrick whined.
"I just don't want anything about me changed for now, babe. We don't know what else is altered without us knowing."
"Babe", Patrick finally called him babe again, "it's not like Chronivac would lie to us, it's not a genie in a lamp situation. I just feel more...relaxed? Also, kinda turns me on to talk like a jock." Patrick smirked.
After Patrick got dressed (a tight shirt and shorts), both he and Dorian made a simple meal together, ate it and settled on the couch. The Chronivac was with them in the kitchen, on the dinner table and at the table near the couch. Dorian watched over it like a hawk, checking every few minutes whether the thing was still there. It was followed by a quick glance over at Patrick.
"Okay babe, not liking the lack of trust you have in me." Patrick blurted out frustrated. He stretched his hands towards Dorian. "I thought tonight was still datenight?" He made his pecs bounce under the tight shirt he was wearing.
"Sorry, honey, I have to trust you." Dorian pulled back from Patrick's grasp. "Sorry, today has been much. You understand, right?" Dorian turned his attention back to the TV.
"To be fair, babe, I don't understand. Sorry, I need a minute, and sorry for what I'm going to do," Patrick said while storming off to the bathroom. The last part of the sentence kind of lost on Dorian, who was getting his phone out of his pocket to text his best friend, Lisa.
"Okay, wow, sooo Patrick got this reality-changing device. It's cool, but scary."
Dorian pressed send and looked to the place where the Chronivac was just a few minutes ago: empty.
"Patrick, what are you doing?" Dorian cried out in panic before his whole world seemed to be turning upside down.
Several seconds later, Patrick arrived back in the living room. "Sorry, bro. I had to do this."
"You can always go to the toilet, silly", Dorian said as he straightened the strings of his jockstrap and turned his ass in the air. "What's that phone you got there?"
"Oh that's my chronivac..." the rest that Patrick said was sort of blocked out for Dorian as he got distracted by the growing bulge in his stud boyfriend's sweatpants.
After the best sex for the couple in ages, the pair went to bed and Dorian checked his phone one final time to make sure his alarm for work was set. His boyfriend was toying with that special phone again.
"OMG, you have to tell me more!" A text from Lisa popped up, but Dorian couldn't remember texting her. When he read about the reality-changing programme, a killer headache formed. Suddenly, he remembered what Patrick promised and what happened earlier tonight. He could feel his consciousness slip. Dorian mustered all his power to reply to Lisa.
"I think Patrick is abusing it. Come help me, please." Dorian barely sent the message before letting his phone slip from his hands. This drew Patrick's attention. Dorian saw how his boyfriend picked up the phone and saw the message.
"Again, honey, I'm sorry. This cock won't be taking care of it self, and I am so f'ing horny. I can't let you find out again" Dorian panicked and wondered what was going to happen as he got swallowed in seas of darkness.
Dorian awoke startled, as if just woken up from a scary dream. Light pierced through the curtains already.
"Fuck bro, I missed my alarm", he said while yawning.
Dorian lazily grabbed at his morning wood and fully woke up in shock.
"how large is my...." was the last thought he had before his mind was flooded with new memories that immediately weren't new to Dorian.
D, as he often refferred to himself now, thought back to the hot sex last night as he let his naked foot-long cock flop free from the blankets.
D flexed his football-sized biceps as his cock hardened. Like every morning, he winked at the camera that livestreamed his bed 24/7. He had to please the audience, Patrick always said.
D got up from the bed and immediately saw himself in the full-length mirror directly in front of the bed.
He knew he saw this every morning, but as if he saw it for the first time, Dorian was blown away by his physique. First of all, his beautiful young face that made him look boy-ish, with blue eyes that swallowed every top as he looked up while sucking on a dick.
His baby face could be misleading if it weren't for the bullneck that followed straight underneath it. Every muscle group stood out in its own marvellous way. His bowling-ball-sized shoulders made him look like a tank, while their curves made way for arms that were larger than most people's legs. His python arms were raised to his sides because of a back that could make some planes jealous.
D admired and flexed every muscle, but he knew what his audience was waiting for.
"Are you guys ready to see the root of my popularity?" D said with his back turned to the camera, seemingly forgetting that his audience could see everything because of all the other mirrors.
"Ladies and gents, but mostly gents. Here is my root!" D laughed as he turned around, moving his hips back and forth in such a way that the top of his dick slammed into his pec shelf.
As he was wanking off, D talked to the camera about all the times he had to skip a class because his dick was simply to hard. That his mind clouded over because he got too horny and had to hold himself in.
"Now, I hardly ever have to leave the house. We even have a pool since we moved to Patrick's mansion! He even told me that's because of you guys I can just lounge around naked or in my jockstrap all day now."
Thinking about his jockstrap pushed D over the edge. He moaned a lot and yelled, "I love my life!" before he jizzed over the mirrors and his own hair.
After he came to, D turned to the camera again.
"Thank you guys, I'll be leaving the camera view now, but I promise you can see tons of content on my OF-page today, tomorrow, every day!" He giggled and jumped around for a few more seconds and then left the room.
D had just started showering when Patrick came into the bathroom.
"Honey, Lisa is here and wants to talk to you. I will let her in, so take your time. It doesn't seem too urgent anyway."
Patrick left the bathroom, and D thought he could hear him mumble something about twinks. It didn't matter, as thinking of Lisa gave D, no Dorian, a headache again. Why had he asked Lisa for help again?
Please, tell me I’m not the only one to have seen this. Tell me I’m not crazy.
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve noticed something weird happening in the neighborhood. There seemed to be an influx of young influencer-type guys, all with some cringy “brush” hairstyle. At first, I thought nothing of it, except that perhaps my neighborhood was becoming hip – and likely more expensive – but my whole outlook changed when I seemed to recognize one of those “new” guys.
Indeed, one day one of them made me think of an elderly guy that lives a few houses away from mine, and ever since I noticed that, I see more and more similarities between those guys and people from the neighborhood. And that elderly guy, you know ? I haven’t seen him since ! But really, the reality of the situation crushed me today when I went to the grocery store, and saw that guy.
That guy looked exactly like a young beardless version of Mr. Shree, our older local grocer, and with that same haircut I just see everywhere I go around my place. When I talked to him, he had the same accent he had, except he had a bit of a dumber, more bro-like tone. Worse, he even flirted with me ! Just what is going on !
God, I really need to move out. That neighborhood now creeps me out… Even now when I go back home, I feel like I’m being watched everywhere… Look ! That guy !
I’ve seen him everywhere today, and every time he’s glaring at me… And now he’s right on my path to my house. I… decide to go on the other side of the road. Everything creeps me out, I don’t want to risk anything.
I get back home, and breathe a sigh of relief. At least, here, I won’t be in danger from… whatever is happening. I settle in, turn the coffee maker on – I’ll need that for the night of thesis-writing – and take my laptop out.
I look online at house listings. We’re right inside the university year, so of course there isn’t much reasonably close to college… and whatever there is is either at an outrageous price, or is unlivable… I’m going to have to make do, there is no way I’m staying in this creepy neighborhood any longer.
As I’m looking through the listings, I get a notification. An e-mail. I look at it and… Oh, yes, I’m supposed to get a package today. They apparently put it in my mailbox… great, I’ll need to go out again, if I don’t take it I’ll have a hard time writing tonight…
Reluctantly, I dare myself out of home, not without looking in all directions before stepping out. Seeing no one, I hurry to the mailbox, keys in hand. I unlock the mailbox, finding my package, and turn around when I see that guy yet again.
“Olá ! How are you doing, bruh ?”
Oh no. He hailed me. That guy hailed me. I’m done for. But… my house is just near… I can make a run for it !
I suddenly go for a sprint, trying to whiz besides him.
“Oi ! What the fuck are you doing, bruh !” He shouts, running after me.
Fuck, he’s following me.
I reach the door. Finally.
I get in the house, and close the door violently.
Yes ! I’m free from him ! At least, for now… I lock the door. I can wait the whole night without problem… though I’ll absolutely call the police when I can catch my breath. I check three times that my door is well-locked, and start turning when a low and dumb-sounding voice rumbles.
“Bro, that’s not nice, bruh. You should act better with a bro, brah !”
“How did you do that !” I shout, in more than utter shock.
He shouldn’t have been able to enter ! I… made sure that I closed the door as soon as I was in the house ! And he was behind me ! Granted at the end I was looking at my feet…
… He overtook me right at the end ? I… guess I’m very out of shape, but still, I thought, that…
“I dunno, bro, I ran. But guess what ? You-”
Before he can continue, I try tackling him. I know I’m not strong, I know I’m not athletic, but I must try what I can… to stay myself. To stay alive.
When I make contact, it’s as if I’m encountering a brick wall with a bit of a cushion on the side of it. No matter the momentum, nor my desperate steps trying to push him, he doesn’t budge a bit. Although it didn’t hurt, this attempt will be remembered as one of the most pathetic acts I took in my whole existence.
“Look at you, bruh, you’re so excited you went right into the arms of papai !” The low dumb-sounding voice exclaims, before laughing.
I unclasp him. I can’t overpower him. Better to go outside and find help… somewhere. Plus the key is still in the lock.
But I don’t even have the time to turn that he is the one to clasp me, now. With both arms I am taken hostage. I look up at that dumb grin on a handsome face ruined by a terrible hairstyle.
Disgusting.
“So, bruh, wanna leave ? But I haven’t even told you the good news, brah !
- Are you going to infect me ? Like Mr. Shree ?” I spit, showing all the hate I can possibly fill my diction with.
- Huhuhu so funny, bro ! No, I’m not infecting you ! I’m curing you, bruh !”
I look in horror as he licks his lips.
“C-Curing me of what ?
- I dunno.” He answers me, looking empty inside for a second before taking back his mischievous look on. “Man, I can just smell you need curing, it’s urgent.”
Then, without warning, he locks my hips with his legs, and takes my head in his hands. I try to free myself, but it’s of no avail.
He makes my head look up, as he approaches his to mine.
And then, his lips smash mine.
No, he actually kisses me. Not only making them touch. He then removes himself from my face, as I stay unable to move in any way. My first kiss was actually… stolen by a weird sick guy ?
“Now, bro, let’s cure you !”
His rumbling shake me as he puts his right hand inside my hair. I just can’t move as he pulls my hair higher and higher. As he does that, it also seems to… stay up, somehow.
And I absolutely can’t move any muscle, weirdly, even as he shifts his position to free me from the grasp of his legs. No matter how much I try, nothing in my body wants to move, and I’m just stuck there, staring at him in much the same way as he used to stare at me, as he takes out clippers.
Then, the sound of buzzing. He continues grasping my hair, pulling on it and seemingly shaping it with his right hand, while his left hand expertly directs the clippers on the side of my head. I sense the mass of hair falling down, my mind going down with it.
I feel more and more dizzy, as he continues pulling on my hair in an experience that becomes strangely more and more euphoric, and as tufts of it fall down. Like… what is happening ? What is he doing ? What am I doing ? The questions that were already there before become even more pronounced.
The buzzing comes finally to my other ear, and I feel the wind breezing through my skin on the back and front of my head, as a big mass holds on top of my head. Squeezing it. Squeezing my brains. Squeezing my mind.
I feel that guy undressing me, touching me on all sides, but as I am squeezed, I just feel that my mind is… leaking somehow. Like… I dunno, stuff like my thesis… big writing thing, its contents or, like… smart stuff, I guess ?
It feels like it leaks through all over my body, and as that guy takes a hold of my pecs, he uses the leaks to make them… stronger or something ? Ugh, I feel so squeezed down, I can’t think clearly. I even think like I’m bigger, stronger and taller, how ridiculous !
Like, I guess I have abs, pecs, biceps, triceps, calves, a butt and all that, but all that feels… big. And bigger as it leaks. Yeah… bigger… bigger… BIGGER !
Suddenly, that guy comes back in front of me, and his big hand comes closer and closer. I feel him fiddling with my lips, which feel bigger than usual… god, have I got botox or something ? And then, he squeezes my face for a while, until we can hear cracking sounds. He smirks.
“Bro, you’re looking good, like !
- Huh ? What ?” I manage.
Looking at me in disarray, only barely managing to move my fat lips, he smiles harder. The voice that left my lips was weird, like… it was deep. Too deep. It also feels like I’ve got like… an apple ? in my throat ? that makes me unable to speak correctly.
“Repeat after me. ‘Bro.’
- Bro.” I repeat in my low and slow voice, unable to think under all this weight.
- ‘Bro.’
- Bro.
- ‘Bruh.’” He changes.
- Bruh.” I follow.
- ‘Bruh.’
- Bruh.
- ‘Brah.’” He changes again.
- Brah.” I follow again, still unable to think properly.
We continue like that for a good long while. Like, bruh, we continue doing that, and brah it feels like my brains become more mushy, bro, more squeezed, bro. We then make brah combinations, like bruh, and it feels like other words are burned, brah. Only bro, bruh and brah remain, bruh, and, like bro, even now when we’re finished, my brain still feels weird, bro.
I just stand there, bruh, thinking, though, bro, it’s hard with all that weight squeezing me, brah.
“Ya good, bro ?” That guy asks me.
- Yeah, bruh.” I answer him, smirking in the best way I can.
- Great ! And what d’ya wanna do, brah ?”
As he asks that, I just pause. Like, bro, it’s so hard to think ! I dunno what I’d wanna do ! I’m like, too dizzy bruh !
“I dunno, bro.” I answer him.
- You’re so dumb, bruh ! You should, like, wanna put stuff on the ‘gram or Tiktok, bro ! Or get laid, or cure people so there’s more bros, bruh !”
His words hit me like a truck. Of course I want to go get laid, bro ! And of course I wanna put stuff on the socials ! That’s the way of the bro, and I should try curing people, brah !
“Então, you better, bruh ?” That guy asks me.
- Yeah bro ! D’ya wanna have sex, bruh ?” I answer, sure of myself.
- Huhuhuhu ! Later, now I’ve got something important to do, bro.”
As he says that, he shows me a metal chain.
“It’s your chain, bruh ! It’s a sign you’re a real bro, brah ! Put it on, and be proud of it, bro !”
He approaches it to me, and locks it when it circles my neck. As it clicks, something clicks in me at the same time. Like I’ve found my peace, bro. My hair doesn’t squeeze me anymore, it feels just right, brah. Everything seems… just right, bruh. And I feel like… other people should feel that too, bro. Yeah, let’s cure them ! I want everyone to feel just right, brah !
“So, bruh, wanna see your hotness in the mirror ?” He points to a mirror in the entrance.
When I look at myself, at my big hair, and at my chain, I can’t help but take it in my mouth. That’s hotter, bruh.
“Fuck, I’m so hot, bro !” I say, not noticing that I said it out loud.
- So hot, bruh, vamos !”
I smirk, letting my chain go. Yup, nobody can resist me, bro. Nobody can resist my way of life, bruh. Nobody can resist my hotness, brah. And I’m gonna make sure everyone’s in my league.
I take some hot clothes, and leave my house with that guy. Fuck, there’s so many dweebs in the street, it’s an infestation, bro ! There’s so many people that need curing, a good haircut and a good workout, brah !
Thankfully, I’m here to help, so that in the end, there will be nothing wrong with this neighborhood, bro.
So this is a story made by @turningalpha titled The Conspiracy and I basically make a little continuation of it. My part starts after the *** sign
“So, do you think you could do this for me?” I asked tentatively, knowing full well his response.
“You know, if you had asked me that earlier, I would definitely have said ‘No way! Seth’s my new best friend - I wouldn’t do anything against him’,” he replied, admiring his new, massively muscular visage in the gym mirror. “But now…”
He turned away from the mirror to look at me. A cheesy grin was plastered on his face.
“But now… The very thought of that dweeby little shit nervously hanging around my bedroom makes me want to smash his dorky face in.”
He cracked his knuckles ominously.
“Wow,” he exclaimed with surprise. “I don’t why I’m suddenly thinking things like that - who would have thought suddenly becoming all buff and manly would change my attitude so much?”
“I’m to blame for that,” I said with a chuckle, as I owned up to my misdeeds. “See, I tweaked your personality slightly when I ‘enhanced’ you. Now you really love tormenting puny nerds and you especially love making Seth’s life a living hell.”
I gave the newly musclebound sucker a fake look of regret.
“But look, man, maybe I’ve crossed a line here - I mean, you only gave me permission to transform your weedy little body into a hulking frat boy. Not turn you into a bullying asshole! Maybe I should return your personality to normal…”
I started pressing a few buttons on the Chronivac.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” roared the new titan, veins bulging visibly as he roughly grabbed me by the scruff of my t-shirt and lifted me up to his eye level. “This feels so fucking amazing - I feel like I’ve got the balls to do anything I want. I never want to return to being that scared-as-shit dweeb again! Even if it means that I’m a sadistic cunt now.”
I grinned at his snarling roided face - I had finally made my monster.
“That’s the spirit, big guy!” I said.
He soon realized that I was just toying with him. He chuckled as he dropped me to the floor, secure in the knowledge that I wasn’t going to change him back, and turned back to his new favorite object in the whole world - the mirror. He started examining his new, shredded-to-fuck physique with shit-grinning fascination.
“Jesus, man this is so fucking intense - all this power and strength. And all you want me to do his fuck around with Seth? Damn - what the hell did that little turd do to you anyway?”
I laughed.
“Actually, he’s never done anything to me.” I explained. “I used to bully him like crazy even before I got this gizmo. Ever since elementary school. Now that I’ve got my hands on ultimate power, I spend my days bringing all my sickest fantasies to life. Seth just happens to be the chosen one for this particular fantasy.”
“You’re one sick motherfucker, you know that?”
“Oh, I know,” I said with a smirk. “So remember, big guy - you just keep acting as if nothing has happened and torment the shit out of him. Randomly accuse him of sniffing your jockstraps while you’re away from the dorm, or eyeing you up when you exit the shower - that sort of thing. Only you, me and him know you’ve changed - the rest of the world thinks you’ve always been this sexy, arrogant and cruel motherfucker. Make him think that you believe you’ve always been like this. With the Chronivac, I’ve given you the acting chops to pull this off.”
“You’re fucking crazy, man,” he laughed. “But I like it. I’m curious, though - why not just make me believe that anyway with that device of yours? Why the need for me to act it out?”
“I dunno,” I shrugged with a little embarrassment. “Somehow I just find it more fun knowing I’ve corrupted his geeky roommate into my fantasy.”
“Heh, well I’m glad you’re that sick,” he replied, flexing a massive bicep with glee. “I’m so going to love this! I can’t wait to see the terror on that little shit’s face when I stroll into the dorm looking like this!”
“Ha! You think I’m sick? I’m only getting started big guy! That girl he’s always hanging around with these days? Anne? I’ve just made her your own personal fuck toy.”
“Uh, I dunno man,” he said with a little hesitation. “She’s awfully nerdy looking and I fucking hate nerds.”
“Oh don’t worry,” I replied. “I spoke to her an hour ago and she’s currently enjoying her own set of ‘upgrades’. She’s now got the body of a fitness model, a luscious set of fake titties to maul over with your massive paws and a well-used sloppy cunt that will easily take in that new supercock of yours. Throw in some slutty tattoos and her new background as a pornstar, and she’s now a keeper.”
“Whoa! Fucking ace!”
“Like you, she’s going to act as if nothing has happened - both of you are going to pretend that you’ve been both fucking each other silly for months. She’s agreed to treat Seth as if he’s some sort of sick pervert who is always gaping at her. She’s planning to tease and ridicule him on how scrawny and unmanly he is.”
“Ha, this is nothing. You should see what I’ve done to his little brother! He has sprouted up two feet, outweighs his older brother by 200lbs of superhuman muscle and plans to have half the women in their neighborhood pregnant within the next six weeks. Anne and you are only round one. When he comes home for Christmas, he’s in for a big surprise!”
“Man! He’s been trying to get the courage to ask Anne out for weeks - and she’s been shyly waiting for him to do. This is so going to kill him!”
***
"Who are you exactly?"
"Just a childhood friend of his, that's all,"
"And what kind of fucked up shit he did to you until you went all this way?"
"Nothing to be honest. I just disliked him and his nerdy attitude. I conspired with the other boys and basically made his elementary school days sucks. But then he moved out of town before I got my hands on this baby," I said as I rub my Chronibac "The baby that just changed you for the better,"
"So you're a bully. Not his childhood friend,"
Well, gotta admit that blood bond is a little bit harder to be manipulated. So I secretly click several button, just to make him a little bit more rough, and then I can see that sadistic glow in his eyes
"And I hate that dweeb too. Fuck, how can he is my older brother when he's looking like a twig?" He said aggresively all in a sudden "He's a real pain in the ass to be honest. And you want me to show him his place in life? Dude, I can even turn him into a pulp!"
"Wow wow, calm down there, big man. I just want you to make the worst Christmas for him later this year. Screw him up, mess with his minds. He will have a hard time believing that you grow up this massive in just 2 years, but like I said earlier, only you and me are aware of the facts that you haven't been this sexy muscle beast you are now. For everyone, you've always been the real deal, the main alpha of this town,"
"And you will let me keep this shit as long as I played your sick game where I made him experienced a total hell in his own house?"
"Absolutely. This is all yours to keep. This is the reality you are living now,"
"Fuck, that's awesome. You got yourself a deal, bro. I'll give you daily update during the winter holiday. That, if I'm not busy plowing this dick to all the cunts in this town. Anyway, if you need some backup in case I don't make him suffered enough, you can do some of your work to my dad. He's a very sweet nice guy that cared for that twig, must be fucking heartbreaking for the twig if he's turned into a sadistic motherfucker. Double the trouble,"
"That sounds like a good plan actually. But maybe not now, I gotta do something else,"
Continuing this because I fucking love this series. Pretty sure makingrealalphas put out a story of some kind of psychologist for poor Seth that got warped too by his tormentor into a narcissist who prescribed all the wrong things to Seth
Something is definitely not right. I'm not having delusion, or let alone need to take any medication. There's literally something wrong in this world because there's no way that my little brother is this cocky, jacked brute and my entire academic-oriented family somehow turned into these bunch of narcissist bullies. I mean, just look at Dolan over here looking like he's some kind of tren-using Tarzan or something with that wild mane of his
Or how surprised I was when I stumbled upon Cole in his bedroom fucking the shit out of Mrs. Witherton, the mayor's wife, with the fucking mayor and his jock-ass son staring in the corner like they've been grounded by Cole?
Yet everyone acting like I'm the crazy one, that I'm the one with the fucked up memory and sense of reality. My roommate. My crush that now becomes my roommate porn-star-like date who dismissed me so easily. My brothers, my entire family, literally everyone! And they all said things that I know cannot be true but the events in the past few weeks really put me in a spiral questioning the truth of the entirety of my life
I know I'm not adopted. I know that I never sniff my roommates, let alone my brothers clothing. I know that none of them are these huge douchebags or gymrats. I also know that I'm not having psychotic break and I am certainly not gonna drink any of the pills they said prescribed to me. These cannot be real. No, these cannot be real.......
My mouth hung open. Standing in front of me in the shower were two massive muscle hunks, where just moments ago, my two scrawny, nerdy friends had just stripped down.
“Oh my god, you guys, you look-” I had trouble finding the words.
“Look,” Sean said, raising a now hairy pit. “You can stay a skinny 22 year old fuckboi if you want, but I thought we came on this vacation to Palm Springs to try something new.”
Hair continued to erupt on his chest and face. His whole body was swelling, and while he only stood a few inches taller, his new meaty pecs alone probably weighed more than his whole upper half used to weigh.
Cameron on the other hand was turning into a full daddy in the spray.
“Billy,” he said, his voice now low, sexy. Silver began to tinge and then set in his hair. “Either you step into the shower now and get older and beefy like us…”
They both grinned at me. I saw their new, thicker cocks starting to plump.
“Or Sean and I use you like the boy you are.”
My dick twitched.
God, they were both so hairy now! Sean looked a good decade older, and Cam- !
I was torn. Part of me wanted to feel my body swell, to feel a thick coat of fur cover my skinny frame. To feel the stubble, and then fuzz, and then full beard grow out along my face. To grab my meaty arms and thighs and marvel at just how much power my muscles would have. To feel my shoulders grow wider, my dick swell to beer can girth…
But another part of me just looked at my two previously even-a-little-smaller-than-me-and-that’s-saying-something friends staring down at me, my former equals now grinning at me like wolves and their prey. Awkward Cameron, now so confident and in control.
Sean looked at Cam and grinned, and then I heard the squeak of the shower’s handle.
“I guess our little fuck toy here made his decision,” Cam purred and stepped, dripping toward me.
“Oh fuck, Cameron,” I whispered.
With one swoop, he bent over and picked me off the ground, my legs instinctively wrapping around his now barrel-chested frame.
“Call me Daddy,” he growled into my ear, and carried me over to the bed. I could see Sean start to follow over his shoulder, already pawing at his growing erection.
“You know boy,” Cameron continued. “I’m actually glad you didn’t use the Daddy Shower. It saves us the trouble of going out and finding someone to bring back here and use.”
He tossed me onto the bed like I was a rag doll. I stared up at the two men, and then was quickly yanked by my legs down to the foot of the bed, Cameron lifting my legs so my heels rested on his shoulders.
Sean made his way onto the bed near my head and began slapping his hardening cock against my face.
I wasn’t their friend anymore. I was their toy.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I whispered.
Cameron lubed up two fingers and brought them to my hole, slowly working his way in, as if he had been doing this for years.
“Open up for me, boy,” he said. Fuck! I was so tight around him, I could feel myself already squeezing around his fingers, as my dick grew harder with a few pumps. He slowly began to massage his now thicker fingers against my prostate.
I let out a high moan.
“I think he likes that,” Sean said.
Cam, with a focus and confidence that usually only comes from having worked a thousand boys over like this before, continued to rub in and out, his other massive, calloused hand sliding up my leg. I felt myself begin to open to him.
“There you go, boy,” he said gently. “Keep opening for me.”
Goddammit, I’d do anything he said right now. This sexy muscle daddy was working me like a puppet, and god I wanted him, and fuck, he was actually the same nerdy friend of mine who was actually a year younger than me that I usually schooled at video games, and now-
I opened my eyes, not realizing that I had closed them, and saw his steely gaze bearing down into me. He pulled his fingers out and pressed the thick mushroom head of his new cock against my hole.
I was his.
“I… mmm… I need you in me,” I managed.
Slowly, he pressed his erection against my ass, and then taking his time, he slid in, allowing me to adjust to his thick cock with every inch. He was a seasoned pro, and my body trusted him, fully.
I felt impossibly full and still wanted more. I wanted his whole body pressed against me.
“…oh… fuck…. fuck…” I whimpered.
It was then that Sean abruptly pinned my arms above my head with a sudden swing. I jerked, but he may as well have been a dump truck on top of me.
“You had your chance to be a man,” he grinned. “But something tells me that this is actually what you’ve always wanted, to just be dominated by your two friends.”
“…fuck… fuck…!” was all I could say, again and again, as Cameron’s impossibly huge cock began to slowly gain speed, fucking me a little harder, a little harder.
“You know,” Sean continued. “I was going to say that you should try the shower tomorrow. But I’m thinking that now, this should just be our lives. Cameron and I these two sexy daddies, and you our houseboy, waiting on us hand and foot, ready to get fucked whenever we want.”
Cameron was hammering away at me now. It hurt, but fuck I wanted it harder, I wanted him to fuck me until I broke.
“FUCK! Yes, Daddy, FUCK ME!” I yelled.
Cameron started to rhythmically groan, low, and choppy.
“You… Like that….. Boy?”
Slap. Slap. Slap.
“Oh fuck, Daddy, yes!” I cried. “Fuck me! Make me your boy!”
Sean, still pinning me from above, grinned, and then lowered his bearded, lantern jaw down to my chest and lightly bit my nipple.
“Oh, FUCK!” I yelled, and then felt Sean’s hand grip my cock. My hips thrust up. “Oh fuck, I’m close! Oh fuck!”
“Don’t come yet, boy!” Cameron ordered, his pace quickening. “Hold it!”
Oh fuck. I rode another wave, but didn’t cum.
“You want this load, boy?” Cameron asked.
Fuck. Yes. Yes! I couldn’t even tell if I was yelling words any more, what I was yelling in my head, and what I was yelling out loud.
Yes, yes I wanted him to fill me with his new Daddy seed.
Yes, yes- ! I wanted this … forever! I wanted to be the kept boy of these two sexy men! I wanted to live with them and have them take me places and show me off, and to take turns waking the two of them up with blowjobs, and- and-
The air seemed to ripple around us.
Cameron let out a long, loud roar and I could feel him cum as he slammed me down against him again and again.
“FUCK!”
Sean’s hand on my dick quickened.
“Oh- oh- oh-! Oh god, Oh- !”
Even though my eyes were clenched shut, I saw a flash of white.
I came, harder than I had cum in months, shooting onto my chest and all over Sean’s hand. My whole body convulsed, and my wrists pulled against Sean’s other hand, but he held me down with little effort.
Cameron slowed, but stayed within me, the back of my legs still pressed against his now sweaty chest.
Fuck that was good.
“Oh, Daddy,” I moaned. “You haven’t fucked me that hard in weeks.”
“Looks like the change of locale is doing you good,” Sean said to Cameron, moving to grab us both a towel. “I kept telling you that you’d been working too hard.”
Something felt… off… some… memory…
“Yeah, every night when we went to bed,” Cameron smirked. “I guess I should know better by this point and listen to my damn husband.”
I lay on the bed, breathing heavy. Cameron took a few steps up and lowered down and kissed me.
Even gasping for air, I still felt myself melt as he lifted my head into a deep kiss.
“And our boy,” he said.
Two different sets of memories seemed to fight in my head. One, where I slept between these two daddies in our massive bed every night, and I begged Cameron to take us on a trip, to get a little stress relief, and some other, fading image of three early 20-somethings finding some deal on a website…
“Wow, you must have fucked him good,” Sean said. “He’s speechless.”
He came over and brought his large palm against my cheek, looking down on me adoringly. The cold of his wedding ring felt nice against my warm cheek.
God, I was so lucky, to belong to this gorgeous couple, to have them bring me into their life a year ago. Wait… something about that felt…
I had known them for years, hadn’t I?
A questioning look flickered across Sean’s face for the briefest of moments.
“You okay, Billy?” he asked.
I shook my head, clearing away any stray thoughts.
“I…. whoo! Guess I ….” I sat up.
Cameron came over with a glass of water, which I took, gratefully, and sat down on the bed.
“I guess that took more out of me than I thought!”
Cameron grinned.
“Well, it took a year, but the two of us have finally found a way to tire out our boy. I wonder if he’s getting older.”
Sean laughed.
“He better not be, he’s supposed to be keeping us young!”
Sean and Cameron kissed and I felt one final twitch of my fading erection. They both looked at me, leaning into the pillow.
Some days, it was almost too much, the love of these two men. How they loved each other through me, how they would gift me, over and over, to the other. How they took turns shaping me, praising me, holding me.
I was the luckiest boy. Whatever I did to deserve this, I’ll never know.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Cameron said, standing and walking toward the bathroom. “You two should join me.”
I could see the huge, open shower in front of him. Something about it looked… different. But that’s silly, we just got into this hotel where we’d never stayed, and hadn’t even showered yet. How could it look different?
I sipped my water and stared at the gorgeous ass, and then salt-and-pepper hair of one of my daddies.
Elated to see its the time for it to make a return, so this is my own take that I shelved when @immortalmrwavell previous account got off. Our narrator.......at least for me, is not necessarily the best person to handle MorphMage
I honestly have no idea what's gotten into me during our trip back to my apartment, but seeing Liam all muscular and confident like that stirred something unpleasant in me. I can't put it into any other words, but I believe I was offended and jealous, of his physique, of him knowing the MorphMage app first, practically as much as I lust his current form, I wanted to return the scale back to my favor. I was the bigger and more confident one before all this for fuck's sake! It's only normal then for me to do this, right?
Let me take you back for a brief recap. I told Liam to wait in the living room as soon as we arrived while I transformed myself, much to his dismay. But, I quickly told him that he could just simply work out while waiting for me and that seems to soothe his jock brain as I added that, it would be fair for him to experience the same surprise that he did for me when he first appeared post-MorphMage and he obliged with no further questions asked.
"Just don't take too long, okay? I'm excited to see what you will come up with,"
I obviously hid the fact that the first toggle I switched off as soon as I finished the transformation would be everyone's awareness of my previous form, and when I said everyone, it includes Liam. I needed to assert my dominance over him, and keeping him in the blind that his boyfriend is also a MorphMage user would certainly do something to his psyche
"Oh look at me pulling such a fine DILF, he would never look at me the same way if he ever found out about my MorphMage usage,"
"I could never let him found this MorphMage app, or I'm doomed,"
Or something along those lines. Yeah he's much more confident and easy-going now, but I bet with him still retaining most of his old emotional self, this decision would be changing the dynamic back to my favor. He wouldn't dangle the fact that he found MorphMage first and allowed me to be this figure I transformed myself into.
Talking about my transformation, well, as you could see, I always upped the ante at least one level above Liam.
Confident blonde man in his early 30s with consistent gym repertoire? Well, I'm now a certified bodybuilder with history of tinkering with roids and all that in his mid 30s, now clean off all those meds and overpowered all the youngster still. I definitely could pull off some hair but I feel like being bald suited this form of mine better so I let him win that, after all his man bun would be useful to make him blow me. But back to the reversal of him tipping the scale in his favor. Him being 6'3"? I'm 6'4" now. 8 inches soft? Mine would be 8.5 inches soft, with balls clearly bigger than his. I simply refuse to be dwarfed or outshine by him. Call it egoistic, I don't care, I just need to make sure that I'm not the one feeling all submissive to someone that used to be shorter than me by 3 inches and never even dared to talk in a room full of people.
He mentioned that upon saving, the transformation really hit him hard and I experienced the same earth-shattering orgasm as he explained when my avatar came into life and solidified its changes to my physique rather than merely hovering like a holographic visual before I clicked that "Save" button. But I never expected that the most fun part came right after that when the mental options started popping up like questionnaire on the screen
"Maintain name: Joshua Koeverman"
I clicked no to that, and a blank section appeared where I could put my new name, so I typed "Josh Coleman" to make it much more easier for everyone to call and impossible to be fucked by even the darndest Starbucks barista
Another blank column appear
"Describe your self, Josh Coleman"
So obviously, I started to frantically take an excerpt on the way me and Liam usually talked about those Insta hunks. Personal trainer of the elites and wealthy. Relentless stamina to hit every single rep perfectly. Talent beyond comprehension to adapt to any sport as I please. Brand deals and brand trips almost every single day. Insane partying and sex across the globe with whoever I pleased with no repercussions because no one complained getting fucked by a stallion like me. Before I know, I literally submitted a 1000 words essay of my new self and I found my cock getting hard once more from thinking on how delicious to have all that false memories hit me all at once!
Then, several toggle appeared on screen with the instruction explaining that you can click to turn it off and skip through it if you want to keep it on as its default to be on
"Retain memories of pre-transformation?"
I skip through that
"Retain option for reversal?"
I turned that one off, because why the fuck do I need that?
"Retain memories of pre-transformation for other?"
I also turned that one off. Another pop-up appeared
"No one will remember the old you except yourself, are you comfortable to proceed?"
Another safety features
"Total alteration of everyone's memory might create unintended effect to your own memory, are you sure to proceed?"
I clicked "Yes" to that one while rolling my eyes and then as soon as the "Save" button appeared, I clicked that and groaned in what I would describe as if your brain getting squeezed dry. It must be one heck of a scream because I clearly blacked out for sometimes as Liam now stands right outside of the ensuite bathroom looking flustered and worry at me. I found myself still standing in front of the bathroom mirror but the reflection that stared back at me feels like any other moment I looked at my reflection
"Josh, are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be, babe?" Oh that feels smooth and simply right to say, as I leaned on the door and feeling the tension in the air as Liam's eyes scanned my entire body as if this is the first time he's seeing me like this. Well, to be fair it really is his first time, but the less he knows the better
"The scream.....I thought---"
"Oh yeah, that's just me trying to reenact that Mr. Olympia moment from last year, don't you remember that?"
I can see his brain jogged a bit as his memory falsely recalled myself on Mr. Olympia stage giving Cbum a run for his money last year. Feels nice to have that world-building moment together but he quickly come on board and smiled
"Yeah, I creamed my pants listening to you roared. I hope you can train me to be as good as you,"
"Oh, well, you are not that hard to train with all the base material you already have. Don't you remember how easy you take on cock-sucking despite dating just chicks for most of your life? You are a natural follower, Liam, and a very good one at that. For starter, if I hop into bed now, you'll follow me and start sucking on my toes before going all the way to swallow my whole cock, am I right?"
And just like that, I found Liam's eyed glistened with delight as he recalled all those moments where he happily blew me like the subservient muscle bottom that he is, and tonight it won't be any different
Back, back, back again! Big departure for me, himbos! And another big departure, gay sex! So beware. Please enjoy!
And remember, comments and likes are always appreciated!
*****
“Where the hell is Sit-guess?”
“Spain. Barcelona.”
“How do you know that?”
“It says so on his post.”
“Oh.” Amir and Neil continued scrolling through their phones.
“Well, it looks like he’s having fun!” Amir joked to an apoplectic Neil.
“In a speedo,” Neil shook his head in jealousy poorly masked as disgust.
“I mean, look at that body.”
“Yeah, but like, he didn’t used to look like that,” Neil stumbled over his words in his ill-contained anger.
“He didn’t dye his hair blonde either, but people can look how they want,” Amir replied with a shrug, trying to diffuse Neil.
“I swear he used to mock those K-pop dudes who dyed their hair.” Neil continued his tirade as Amir rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“And now he did it. Neil, calm the fuck down. Jae-sung can look how he wants to look, act how he wants to act, date who he…” Neil cut him off.
“I’m not jealous of his boyfriend.”
“Really? Cause, you were when we met him-” Neil interrupted the teasing, louder this time.
“And it’s Jai now, according to Instagram. J-A-I.”
“Eww,” Amir laughed and kept scrolling. “Pretty trips.”
“Another beautiful day at the beach with Radden. Life is an adventure and I’m so glad to grab it. Hashtag gay boy. Hashtag beach. Hashtag beach life. Hashtag gay. Hashtag muscle. Hashtag speedo. Hashtag-” this time Amir cut him off.
“I get it Neil, Jae-”
“With an I,” Neil chipped in quickly.
“With an I,” Amir rolled his eyes to pure white as he repeated dramatically. “Is living life as a boytoy and not returning our texts anymore. Ever since he got a new boyfriend.”
“Sugar daddy.”
“Whatever, I’m not interested in the merits of their relationship. I am interested in how he got that body. Rockin’.” Amir said while unconsciously rubbing his belly. He was the fat one of their little gayboy squad. Jae-sung had looked like a weightless twink while Neil at least lifted weights regularly. None of them was likely to catch eyes in a crowd, assuming anyone saw them at all. Mostly due to them all being short guys, Amir being the tallest at 5’6” and three quarters. It was what first bonded them together.
“PEDs, roids, illegal injections,” Neil flippantly replied. Amir choked back the desire to throttle Neil. He’d always been the jealous type, and until six months ago when Jae-sung disappeared off the face of the earth, the hot one in their little gay trio. And the snub from Jae-sung stung worse once they stumbled across his new instagram filled with luscious trips, hot men, and a head to toe makeover turning twinkish Jae into muscled, blond stud Jai.
“Holy shit! New post!”
“So?”
“What do you think, instafans? Always wanted to get my eyes done and @RadXZaddy paid for it. Loving the new me!” Neil read aloud as Amir refreshed.
“What happened to his eyes?”
“He got that fucking eye lid surgery. The one he always called ‘anti-chi-’,” Neil coughed in place of finishing the word. Amir stared at the image long and hard. Was it true, did he really get the surgery? Jae-sung had bitched about stuff like that a lot. Maybe he was misdirecting? Or maybe it was something else.
“It’s that fucking boyfriend,” Neil said as though reading his mind. “All of this! He looks like some fucking doll practically now.”
“I mean,” Amir spoke slowly. “He’s an adult.”
“Look, this guy is clearly doing something to him. This can’t be a healthy relationship.”
“Let’s say I agree,” Amir tentatively began. “What do you want to do? DM him? I don’t think he’ll reply. I mean, he’s got a lot of followers who I bet send messages. And he hasn’t returned our texts.”
“They’re going to Balmora’s for brunch Sunday,” Neil said triumphantly.
“What?”
“In the comments, someone asked if they were going to be at some party, but he told them they were back here and had reservations at Balmora’s. Which does not require reservations, but apparently he has gone full insta-shallow.”
“So, are we gonna go to Bals for brunch?”
“I just made a reservation,” Neil cheered triumphantly. Amir almost chimed in reminding him that you didn’t need a reservation for brunch at Balmora’s but decided to not push things.
“What time are they going?”
“I don’t know,” Neil shrugged.
“What time are we going?”
“At opening, and we’ll drink until they arrive. I asked for a table by the gate so we’ll see them come in.”
“This feels kind of icky,” Amir sighed.
“Our friend has apparently fallen under the sway of some fetishy muscle daddy. We’d be bad friends if we didn't intervene. And they have bottomless mimosas.”
“It’s a date,” Neil’s eyes never left the phone so he didn’t see the concern on Amir’s face.
-----
They pair arrived at Balmora’s when it opened. Their waiter was visibly annoyed when they said they were meeting friends who were always late and they’d be waiting to order until they got here. He huffed off as the pair watched him leave.
“He’s cute,” Amir said while sipping on a mimosa.
“I think we fucked,” Neil scrunched his face and stared into the sky as he tried to remember.
“I love how you act like any remotely attractive guy we meet has had sex with you,” Amir admonished.
“What? I’m being serious!”
“Sure thing Neil, I’ve known you for ten years. Your sexploits don’t fool me.” They clinked their glasses together and started chatting about other topics while keeping their eyes firmly on the gate. Their flippant waiter brought carafe after carafe of mimosa as the pair drank away the time. Finally, their quarry arrived.
Radden and Jai rolled in like a pair of movie stars. Radden’s big and powerful legs caused him to strut suggestively, an oversized package in the front bouncy playfully in his tight khakis. He wore a shiny oxford shirt buttoned halfway, leaving his smoothed bronzed pecs well on display. Jai followed a step behind, rolling his hips in a strange, mincing way. He had silver cowboy boots with an oversized heel, shiny white jeggings, and a pink crop top that hid the tits but exaggerated his ripped abs and tiny waist. Both of them had several bracelets and rings on and expensive sunglasses covering their eyes. Amir and Neil stared in shock for a moment, instagram was one thing but seeing it in person was still shocking. Neil recovered quickly and stood up.
“Oh my god, Jai!” He dragged himself up and grabbed his ex-friend into a tight hug. Jai squirmed a bit before hesitantly hugging in return.
“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Amir joined in, genuinely happy to see his friend. “How have you been?”
“Oh umm, hi, girls,” Jai’s voice had a small affectation to it, a bit of high pitched squeak that reminded Amir of guys who watched too much Drag Race.
“Are you having brunch? Are you meeting people? We have seats at our table!” Neil rambled quickly. Jai seemed completely overwhelmed. A throat clear behind the boys silenced everyone.
“Jai, babe, who are these boys?”
“Oh my gawd, this is my boyfriend, Radden,” Jai introduced the older and much taller hunk with the lustful adoration of a first kiss.
“Yeah, we’ve met,” Amir smiled and waved slightly.
“And we haven’t seen you since,” Neil poked his finger into Jai’s hard pec, and then did it again and again. “Those are nice tits, Jai,” Neil admired openly. Jai perked up and puffed them out proudly.
“Well, we should eat with your friends!” Radden smiled with overly bright veneers.
“Uh, okay,” Jai sort of stuttered. “But like, I didn’t know if you wanted to.”
“I have been hogging you, Jai. I’m sure your friends want to catch up!” He sat down cheerfully and took a swig from the latest mimosa carafe. “I told him he needs to keep in touch with his friends. But young guys get so caught up in relationships. Not that I mind having him all to myself. But everyone needs some girlfriends.” Neil and Amir glanced at each other curiously.
“Wait really? Jai, did you just blow us off?” Neil frowned. Jai kind of stuttered for a bit, flitting his hands in the air.
“Okay, like, I’m sorry I got obsessed with my hot daddy boyfriend.” Even with the sunglasses on, the boys could feel the eye roll underneath. “I felt bad at first, but we were taking trips and he hired me a personal trainer and a nutritionist…”
“You hired them?” Neil questioned Radden.
“After he asked,” Radden continued drinking straight from the carafe, his eyes scanning the restaurant for a waiter.
“Yeah!” Jai indignantly replied. “We were going to hot parties and cool beaches. I didn’t wanna be the ugly guy. And then I figured you guys would be judgmental about it that I didn’t wanna tell you.”
“Just so we’re clearing the air,” Amir stepped in. “You did all of… this,” he waved his hands in the air around Jai. “Because you wanted to be hot? Mission successful.” Jai giggled.
“And you didn’t want this,” Neil grabbed the carafe out of Radden’s hands to refill his own beverage.
“I liked him before, I like him now. I mean, I’ll admit, you are fucking sexy as shit now,” he rubbed his hands lecherously on Jai’s crotch. “But mostly, I just like Jai either way.”
After a moment of silence at the table, Radden spoke again. “So, we relieved you of your concerns? You weren’t very subtle about it. Not that the booze probably helped.” Amir and Neil blushed intensely and looked down. “I, personally, think it’s very good that Jai has such devoted friends. And I look forward to getting to know you both!” He finally flagged down a waiter and ordered more carafes in addition to shots. Jai, Neil, and Amir passed around a set of sheepish apologies.
-----
One month, several parties, two weeks attending exercise classes, and one shopping trip later, Neil and Amir found themselves climbing the steps to a private jet to join Radden and Jai on a fabulous holiday. Radden invited them to some island resort across the Pacific, and the boys never even considered saying no. Sure, the past month has been kind of odd. Jai wasn’t acting for Instagram– in real life he’d seemingly embraced being hot and shallow and catty. It caused a change in the friend group dynamic; Neil and Amir were suddenly demoted to Jai’s entourage instead of being an equal part of the trio. But on the other hand, they were dragging new suitcases filled with new clothing onto a private jet.
Neil and Amir oohed and aahed over the luxury of the plane, while Jai lectured them on the differences between PJs (private jets) and his newfound preferences among them. For his part, Radden seemed content to enjoy an herbal cocktail and admire the boys. Amir noticed he did a lot of that, just kind of looked at them. Lots of people looked at Jai– that came with hotness. But Radden gazed with more intensity, the primal energy of a seasoned hunter measuring prey. Still, he had been nothing but kind and pleasant and Amir liked him quite a bit. Aside from the obvious physical differences, Jai seemed very happy and well treated and you couldn’t want a lot more for a friend.
Radden disappeared at the start of the flight. The others didn’t even notice as they were already popping champagne and talking vapidly about things they’d seen on social media. The booze flowed as they gossiped about everything. Eventually, both Jai and Neil decided to get some shut eye, leaving a wide awake Amir extremely bored before Radden reappeared.
“So what exactly do you do, like for work?” Amir, slightly drunk and flushed, saddled up next to Radden. He laughed in response.
“I’m a trust fund baby!” He offered a toast from his champagne and brayed louder. “I mean, my family owns several businesses. Lots of luxury resorts actually.”
“Like White Lotus places?” Radden laughed again.
“I guess so. They tend to be, no offense, places normal people never hear of.”
“None taken.”
“You’re pretty easy going. I like that,” Radden reached out and brushed Amir’s cheek, who giggled and blushed in response. Radden exuded charm and charisma on a celestial level. “I seem to have won over Neil, too.”
“Oh, he has a crush on you,” Amir blurted out.
“Really?” Radden cocked his eyebrows in lurid interest.
“Did, I should say,” Amir backpedaled quickly. “You don’t remember it, but the night you met Jai, you met us too. And Neil hit on you pretty hard. And you turned him down.” Both men giggled. They continued having their pleasant conversation, though Amir couldn’t help but notice that Radden’s eyes kept drifting to Neil. Amir hoped he wasn’t going to say anything. He’d just put his friend group back together and didn't need it falling apart again.
“You should get some rest, darling,” Radden rubbed Amir’s shoulder tenderly. Amir bit his lip and blushed more. “Might as well take advantage of all the luxuries on board!”
-----
The four of them made for a strange pairing. Neil and Amir were dressed in cute pastel shorts and t-shirts that could come from any of a dozen stores or brands. Radden wore sharkskin trousers with a pleat as sharp as the namesake’s tooth. A linen button down with one hole buttoned in the middle, the fabric flowing around him like Fabio in a wind machine, covered his chest. Jai’s hot pink button down shirt tucked into white shorts. The orange hue of his skin made the pink seem to glow on him. The lobby was open air and spacious with gorgeous employees in white trousers and shirts helping guests. Gigantic marble pillars and floors, all in white, gave the space a heavenly look. A piano tucked in one corner belted soft melodies from its tuxedoed player. Jai dragged the boys along, their mouths agape at the divine monstrosity. Radden was already headed towards check in.
The man behind the desk glowed unnaturally, white teeth and painted skin ripped with muscles underneath his staff polo. Radden turned to the others.
“You boys give me your passports and head up to the room,” he offered Jai some woven bracelets that were apparently room keys. They slipped them on without thought. “I’ll check us in.” Neil immediately pulled his passport out and handed it over, but Amir hesitated.
“Should… is it okay to just give you our passports? And you already have a room key?” Radden shrugged.
“Yes, perks of money. And they have to scan them for check in. It’s totally normal, promise!” He flashed that award winning smile and Amir’s resistance melted away as he handed his little blue folder over. “It’s top floor, Jai, obviously. You boys freshen up!” He sauntered up the counter with a spring in his step, and all three of the boys watched his muscled ass shake from side to side in the tight pants.
“God, I wanna fuck him,” Neil didn’t even bother hiding his desire. Amir tried to shush him but Jai was already replying.
“He only tops.”
“So much for you being verse,” Neil snickered.
“He’s got a hot cock,” Jai crudely replied. “And I’ve always loved sucking dick.” Amir nodded along as they ambled to the elevator. At least that hadn’t changed. Jae-sung had always been the kind of guy who’d suck off a stranger in a bathroom for the thrill of it.
The top floor was one giant suite, balconies lining every side with windows overlooking a jungle paradise and pristine cabanas where gorgeous men paraded around in tiny swimsuits while being served by dutiful staff who were tanned and toned clearly on display. Jai took himself to the master suite, while the other two slummed in smaller, though still luxurious rooms, to the side. They shared a bathroom, and Neil almost immediately walked through to Amir’s side with a swimsuit in hand.
“Just straight to a swimming suit, eh?” Amir laughed as Neil dropped trou immediately, putting his pale buttocks on display as he pulled up a camo patterned, square-cut swimsuit. Neil had a nice body, not an excellent one, but nothing to sneeze at. He obsessed over the really fit guys, the ones with huge pecs that look unnaturally glued on. Neil took a few moments to pose in the mirror, restyling his hair (which was too short to really change) and assessing his physique.
Unconsciously, Amir reached down and tugged at the modest pudge around his waistline. He was the “fat” one of their trio: Neil muscular, Jai thin, Amir fat. Although in straight world he’d be unremarkable. Still, he was the one with the baggy trunks that came to mid thigh. Which was a shame, because if he had any trait that made men stare, it was his derriere. Voluptuous, almost feminine in its curves, but distinctly masculine in muscularity. Amir wanted to look better, he always imagined what he’d look like with a trim waist to really set off his ass but he’d never really found the motivation to get there. Probably the same lack of motivation that kept Neil thinner than he wanted.
“Hey dolls,” the whimpery voice of Jai snapped him back to reality. Jai, formerly thin, was now ripped and toned and his body painted in iridescent orange that made it all pop just so. He blew a kiss in the air, which Amir thought was meant for him but then he realized he was standing in front of the mirror.
“Cute suit,” Neil commented with uncontained envy. Jai was in a hot pink speedo that rode high on his hips, sinking in the deep cuts of his Apollo's belt and clinging to his body like it was already wet.
“Jealousy’s an ugly color, Neil,” Jai quipped confrontationally. “Kind of like that suit. Kidding!” He offered the last word like a bitchy teenager who’d just been called out. Neil replied with a middle finger as he sucked his gut in even more.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Amir asked, hoping to break the tension.
“Party? Relax. Drink.” Jai said all the words dully, as if reading off a teleprompter.
“Where?”
“I dunno, around the pool probs. That’s usually where the hotties hang during the day. There'll be parties and clubs at night.”
“You’ve been here before?” Neil asked, clenching his abs as hard as possible to his red faced reflection.
“Here here? No, but these places are all pretty similar. Spa, gym, pool, second pool, hot tubs, clubs, restaurants. It’s all about mixing and mingling.” Amir changed into his black suit and pulled on a loose fitting top that hid his arms. Not from embarrassment but from the sun. Neil finished dressing himself with a tank top.
“Wanna look around?” Amir offered.
“You guys take a walk. I’m gonna wait for Radden.”
“Where is he? Checking us in couldn’t take that long.”
“Oh, he’s probably flirting with a manager or booking appointments. He loves a spa day.” Jai spent several minutes discussing the multitude of expensive spa time he’d experienced over the past few months, including the lurid detail that Radden always wanted a blowjob afterwards. Amir had never minded the sex talk; it was pretty normal among homos. But the way Jai described it always felt kind of… icky. Very Radden centric. Radden wants a blowjob. Radden only tops.
The pair left to explore, Neil started complaining about Radden and Jai, but Amir distracted him with the buildings, pools, clubs, and every hot man they walked past. Radden had said this was a gay resort, but Amir hadn’t expected it to be entirely men top to bottom. Every employee was a work of art. The guests ranged from ultra mega hot to merely passable, but they all exuded a level of wealth he couldn’t really begin to comprehend.
They went into a shop that sold nothing but tiny swim briefs in a variety of colors and patterns. Amir found some that look suspiciously similar to the one Jai was wearing, in a range of neon colors ordered like a pride flag. He tried to show Neil but found him outside the store.
“Goddam, look at those!” Neil’s voice rang green with envy for all to hear. He was slack jawed, staring at a dark-skinned (though Amir had no idea how natural the color was) man in an orange swim brief that made his dick look terrifyingly massive. But Neil hadn’t even noticed that. Instead, his eyes were fixated on a pair of thick juicy pecs that rose like dough from his chest, pushing out wide and broad, forcing the nipples down, almost underneath the curve of the muscle. They were so prominent and hard, Amir felt certain he could probably balance a drink on them.
“You should probably stop staring.”
“I wanna touch ‘em.” Neil gasped. “I wanna grab ‘em and lick ‘em and ugh. Ugh. I want to have a pair on me!” He grabbed his own, not unnoticeable chest, like a pair of breasts and shook them for an imaginary audience. Then he deflated visibly.
“I’m sorry Neil,” Amir didn’t really know what to say.
“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m being dramatic.”
“And jealous.”
“Is it obvious?” Amir burst out laughing despite Neil’s seriousness. He silenced himself and offered a quick apology.
“But yes, it is obvious.”
After a few more minutes of walking and admiring the resort and the men, Neil finally spoke up again. “I want a body like that.”
“Well, ask Jai. Or hell, ask Radden since he’s probably the one who knows how to get it.” He wasn’t sure how old Radden was, but he was definitely hot.
“Is that weird?”
“He paid for us to come to an expensive resort for two weeks. I don’t think anything is weird at this point.”
“Why did we agree to come to a strange resort with our friend's new boyfriend?” Neil asked suddenly, giggling and shaking his head.
“Because we wanted to be featured on some murder mystery podcast?” Amir replied with a playful shrug.
—--
They didn’t see Jai or Radden until dinner. Their phones pinged with a dinner reservation notification that didn’t have an RSVP option. The place had several restaurants and this one overlooked the ocean with rattan furniture and excessive candlelight. Jai, dressed in a skintight, white shirt that looked like it chafed his nipples, offered droopy, drunken eyes and a giddy smile as they walked up. Radden also wore white, though his wasn’t spray painted on. He had a blush across his cheeks, likely from booze but seemed to carry himself better than Jai.
“Evening, dolls,” his silky voice greeted them calmly. He stood up and offered Neil a fake handshake before pulling him into a hug that pressed Neil’s face into his chest and then seated him next to himself. Amir was grateful to take the seat between his friends.
“We walked around. This place is gorgeous,” Amir answered when asked about their day.
“We went to the spa!” Jai burst out in rapturous giggles.
“Nothing better than a massage to start a trip,” Radden cocked a smirk at Jai as he spoke and Amir remembered Jai detailing Radden’s post massage routine. “Speaking of, I booked you two with some stuff for tomorrow.” He pointed quickly between Neil and Amir as he spoke. Radden reached over and tenderly rubbed Neil’s shoulders while devouring him with his eyes. Neil shyly looked away, but glanced back to see Radden glowering at him. The shoulder rubbing seemed to intensify.
Amir, eager for a distraction, chimed in. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to!” Radden insisted with almost childlike glee.
“What, uh,” Neil’s voice broke as Radden seemingly plunged his fingers into a knot deep within Neil. It took Neil several seconds to recover. “What did you book?”
“Massage. Facials. Is there something else you’d want?” Radden’s voice tried to play soft and coy, but there was always something slightly predatory about it. He punctuated his question by tapping Neil on the chest then rolling his finger in circles around his nipple. Neil gazed into Radden’s eyes like a starstruck superfan.
“Umm, I mean, I did wanna ask you… stuff,” Neil was never one to be shy or bashful. He’d never once stuttered when complaining or asking for a refund. But he was down bad for this hunk. Neil tried to turn his face away, but Radden slipped his hand under Neil’s chin and directed his face towards his own before leaning in so close they were almost kissing.
“And what’s that?” Neil flushed red and rolled his eyes like having an orgasm. Amir looked at Jai who seemed content just sort of staring off into the distance. He’d figured his new bitch personality would assert itself, but apparently he was the passive in all aspects of this relationship.
Neil seemed to hesitate before responding, or maybe it was just the orgasmic release he was experiencing from Radden’s hands. When he finally responded, it was a moany, breathy voice unlike his normal one. “W-workout tips? Like, how, how are you so hot?” Radden’s face lit up like a kid who got their birthday wish after blowing out the candles.
“Oh, I can definitely help with that! After dinner, I’ll take you down to the gym. Jai and I already did our workout today. But I can get you set up. You’ll be absolutely amazed what good nutrition and a trainer can do. You won’t believe how quickly it can work.”
The rest of the meal was less dramatic. Radden swapped between being kissing and controlling with Jai, ordering for him and chiding him for slouching, and then being weirdly physical with Neil, brushing him or touching him or just peering into his eyes with devoted passion.
Amir felt like he was watching it all from the outside, and he partially was. His presence at the table went almost entirely unnoticed unless he spoke up. He didn’t really mind. He’d enjoyed some cocktails throughout the day and the wine with dinner. By the end of the meal, he offered a quick goodbye as Radden directed Jai and Neil towards the gym, one arm hanging over the shoulder of each. Amir turned around after a few steps and watched as Radden shifted his hands to grope the cheek of each boy’s butt as they went.
It was weird. Really weird. The kind of weird that a less sleepy Amir might have thought about more. But right now, all he really wanted was to sleep off the travel and the booze and wake up tomorrow morning refreshed and ready.
—--
Amir had literally never felt so relaxed in his entire life. The massage removed tension he didn’t even know he had and the facial left him physically energized and on a strange emotional high. Everything just seemed really great!
He hung around the room afterwards, expecting Neil to show up from his sessions, but he never did. Eventually, he tired of waiting and slipped on his bathing suit to hit the pool. It was packed with well-to-do men with harsh six-packs, juicy pecs, and bubbly butts. Designer labels clung to their suits and shoes and sunglasses like branded grades on cattle.
This was not a place of modesty. Everyone else was wearing something tight and vibrant, usually a well cut speedo though a few did have short little legs on the sides, usually older gents. No one wore black. Except Amir, whose baggy, black swimsuit might have made him feel self-conscious if he wasn’t still high on post massage endorphins. Fortunately, he was still feeling delightfully relaxed and at ease and just in a generally pleasant mood.
He’d meant to bring a book or something to do, but instead found himself slurping down cocktails brought by attentive staff and just sort of staring at the hot men and the beautiful water. He should have been bored or restless, but anytime his mind started to wander it just fizzled out. This was good enough; being here was good enough. Being happy. His empty brained revelry ended when a dark shadow cast over him. He glanced up to see a muscular, older man in Dolce and Gabbana staring down at him happily.
Radden made himself comfortable on the lounger with Amir, cozying up like an intimate friend, and placed one hand on his thigh.
“How are you feeling, Amir?” His voice oozed sensuality.
“Good, really good.”
“I’m glad,” Radden purred while drifting his hand high on Amir’s thigh, brushing under the hemline of his swimsuit. “I want us to have fun. Whatever that means to you.” He whispered the words with unspoken meaning that made the hair on Amir’s legs stand on end.
“Yeah, thanks,” Amir’s voice, intended to be strong but strict, instead came out small and wimpy.
“Of course, darling. And you know, if there's something you want, feel free to ask.”
“Mmhmm,” Amir couldn’t do more than moan as Radden’s hand reached further up his leg, brushing his manicured fingers into the slip between his thigh and hips.
“Good, glad you understand,” he finished with a kiss on the cheek that made Amir’s heart flutter. He pulled back and turned to leave, and Amir took the moment to admire the absolute size of Radden’s package, bouncing happily in a seafoam speedo. His mouth watered uncontrollably. A part of him wanted to call out, to say something to keep Radden’s attention, but it was quelled by the arrival of a staff member, bronzed to perfection, offering him another beverage with an obscenely white smile. He took it with a drunken grin and immediately slurped down the fizzy beverage.
He stayed for hours, applying some sunscreen the resort supplied and just admiring the patrons. Jai and Radden occasionally passed through, offering small waves before talking with other couples. It got more rambunctious as time wore on, younger guys became looser and freer, flirting aggressively and dancing sexually on the men with the most expensive watches or sunglasses. They flashed brand labels he’d never heard of but found himself obsessing over, wondering what they were, where they came from, and how much they cost.
Amir was not a fancy dresser. There was a part of him, the part that scrolled social media too frequently, that always imagined what it would be like to be like that. To parade around a hot (probably chemically altered) body in designer clothing, acting carefree. Peacocking about just to show off the goods, otherwise why the hell would you work so hard to have them. D&G sunglasses, Versace speedo, some silly, expensive bracelet that looked like it came from a vending machine. He watched as one guy, unnaturally tanned with jet black hair swept backwards like an ominous tidal wave, bounced his bikini briefed buttocks on the face of a man wearing tons of jewelry who seemed absolutely enthralled. Amir could be like. Maybe. Maybe he could be the hottie with the body acting a fool for laughs or gifts or fucks.
That bizarre train of thought actually snapped Amir back to reality. He laughed, feeling like he’d probably just woken up from a silly dream resulting from too much sun and too much booze. He resolved to sober up for the night, eat dinner, and head to bed.
—--
Amir hadn’t seen any of the others since the afternoon. He got food at a grab-and-go type cafe and ate in the privacy of the room. Initially, he’d hoped to see Neil and catch up about the day. He wondered if he’d seen him passed out by the pool. But the need for sleep came quickly, and before he knew it, he’d stripped off his clothing and crawled into bed in a pair of cheap boxers he kept just for sleeping in.
Amir awoke in the dark of the night to a slamming cupboard and running water. He heard muttering from the other side.
“Neil?” he went to the door and whispered.
“Oh, um, heyyy, Amir,” his voice was drawn out and slurry, sounding both drunk and stoned.
“You alright? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Yeah,” the h sounded like a relieved sigh. “I was at the spa. It was really fun. I’m gonna go back tomorrow.”
“Wait really? What did they do?” Amir jiggled with the door but found it locked.
“Just like, a massage and stuff. It was so relaxing. I really needed it.”
“Oh, okay,” Amir felt like he was talking at a club where the other person was only half hearing what he was saying. “You need anything?”
“Sleep, I’m super sleepy. Just gonna rinse off and sleep.” Amir wanted to ask Neil some more questions but he found himself drawn back to his bed and fell asleep without effort.
—--
It turns out Neil wasn’t the only person hitting the spa the next day. Radden had seemingly booked treatments every day at random times. Massages, facials, cleansings, steams, saunas, manicures, foot scrubs, acupuncture, Amir kept getting notices on his phone of another booking, with easy check-in and constant reminders. And he went. It felt a little too aggressive, a little too showy. But then again, he had happily flown here on Radden’s PJ. It’s not entirely shocking that he’d throw money around like a drag queen throwing shade.
The first few days rolled together. After yet another session where handsome staff doted over him obsessively, if he didn’t end up lolling around a pool or on a beach, Radden or Jai were grabbing his attention, insisting on hot tubbing or checking out guys or dancing or eating or doing shots. Each day, he kept not seeing Neil. And while he wanted to worry, every time it crossed his mind, Radden seemed to pop up out of nowhere to distract him with another drink, another event, another shopping trip.
Despite the fact that they seemed to own everything in the shop already, Radden and Jai always took a cruise through the resort’s stores each day. And they always picked up some new designer piece, whether it was a shiny watch, tight swimwear, or just some generic piece of trash that would likely sit on a shelf for a few years before being tossed in a refuse pile. He’d watched Radden try on pair after pair of spandex swimming suits in pastel colors with floral prints that Jai seemed to ooh and aah and agonize over. Jai spent nearly an hour obsessing over turtle shell engraved bracelets that all looked the same to Amir. Each time, Radden always tried to get Amir to try something on. Amir’s attempts at resistance became more and more perfunctory each time.
“What about these?” Radden handed Amir a pair of square shaped, black sunglasses trimmed in gold around the lenses. They looked good. Amir put them on, admiring how they framed his face, the harsh lines perhaps a bit too bold for his square face. He turned his head, admiring the cut of his jaw line when he noticed the sides had the most ostentatious logo he had ever seen. D&G embossed on a golden plaque attached on each side. It was utterly, completely, fabulously ridiculous. He wanted them so much.
Amir couldn’t even hide his desire. “I mean, I like them,” he tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. “They’re probably really expensive.”
“Nothing’s expensive, babe,” Radden winked as he whisked the glasses off Amir’s head, an AmEx Black already in his other hand. They were bought and back on his face within seconds.
He couldn’t stop admiring his reflection in the mirror. Amir liked it. Really liked it. Liked it on a level he hadn’t even imagined liking something before. All the sun and spa treatments had given his dark skin an almost ethereal glow, like spit-shined leather. Soft and supple but strangely masculine. He felt imbued with a strange confidence, a need to sort of strut, to puff out his chest and stick out his butt and hold himself with all the attitude of a needy social media influencer.
After that, it was a little easier to let go and just sort of flow. Radden wanted him to add tanning sessions at the spa and soon his skin had taken on an artificial sheen that matched Jai. He refused to hop into a swim brief, but accepted designer shirts and sandals. Soon, he was misting himself with aromatic colognes from brands he’d never heard of while sipping on champagne, real champagne, and gossiping about celebrity plastic surgery.
And still, Neil was nowhere to be seen. He heard him, each night, in the bathroom, and could see the remnants, opened toothpaste and used floss, of his activities. But he hadn’t come face to face in days. And that should have worried Amir. Really it should.
He knew that it should. But he didn’t care. He was having fun. Real fun, the kind of fun you see people on TV having. Everyday was just another party. Every man was a stunning stud with bulging biceps and hard cut abs who flounced and flirted without a care in the world. More and more, he spent afternoons chatting with overly muscled hunks with jaw implants and waxed bodies who giggly happily about getting fucked and who only worried about the calorie count of a cocktail and who was paying attention to them.
—--
Jai started taking him to an early morning aerobics class where swarms of beautiful men with perfect (and likely plastic) jaws and chins shoved their nuclear tanned muscles into shiny lycra that hugged each and every curve and striation as though desperately clinging onto a lifeboat. Mister Giant Pecs, the one Neil has drooled over, was shirtless, wearing peach color tights that shimmered in the morning light and did nothing to hide his massive bulge. Another stud with huge blond hair and an unending, dopey smile was shoved into a yellow leotard that sunk between his ass cheeks and wasn’t big enough to cover his pecs, instead the straining fabric nestled underneath his pecs. With the thin straps rolling over his shoulders, it looked like a window into his chest.
Amir wanted to die. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who was struggling. Sweat, scented with poppers and booze, seeped out of every man as they strived to cut the teeniest bit of fat or water from their bodies to be just a smidge hotter, make the waist just a bit smaller, make Daddy just a bit harder.
But the atmosphere of the class was infectious, cotton candy in event form. Despite the grueling workout and the aching pain, like he’d had teeth extracted from his muscles with no drugs, everyone was happy. The instructors had the wild enthusiasm of theme park guides, every man in the class giggled and groaned with each new movement. Vapid pretty boys constantly encouraged him to push harder, stretch further, breath deeper. And he did. Each time a little better, a little harder, a little tougher.
He had never felt so much pain and so much pleasure simultaneously. The dopey fun and physical arrogance on display made him horny and competitive. And before he knew it, he was prancing to a Britney song alongside the rest of them. Afterwards, he asked Jai to sign him up for every additional class they had.
—--
Another day, another shopping trip, Radden clenched Jai’s speedo clad buttocks with one hand while keeping the other tightly wrapped around Amir’s waist. The physical contact, the almost pathological need for it, from Radden had initially bothered Amir. But now, it just was. That was Radden. He was gonna hold and touch and rub and kiss and there was nothing Amir could do to stop it. Nor did he want to anymore. It felt like getting attention from a movie star.
Without warning, Radden shoved baby blue briefs into Amir’s face, rubbing it in like a chloroform soaked rag intent on knocking him out. It was stretchy and sexy. But what really caught Amir’s eye was the waistband. He’d seen it dozens of times on internet “models” and obscenely wealthy trophy boys. The repeating Grecian pattern of Versace. God, he wanted it so fucking badly.
But there was no way, no power in heaven or earth, that could convince him to put such a tiny thing on. There was no way he was walking around this palace of sin with fat rolls hanging out while everyone else looked like they were sculpted from the world's most perfect marble by the most talented hands to ever carve stone.
Just looking at the suit made him kind of hard.
He wasn’t sure what it was, specifically, about that waistband that infested his mind so effectively. Perhaps it was the almost vulgarity of it, the prominence of the label, the idea of having a brand instead of a personality. He loved it. He hated himself for loving it. And that kind of made him love it more.
But he would not wear them. Not today at least. Radden insisted on something, anything other than his basic black suit. In the end, Radden made him try on a pair of floral print jammers that had the illusion of being loose while still fitting tighter than his underwear. The flowery pattern (a sort of shimmery orange on a blue suit) seemed to glow on his body.
“Those workout classes are paying off,” Radden purred in his ear like a sex deprived vixen. Amir knew, knew knew knew, this was messed up. He might not have been fat per se, but there had definitely been a noticeable ridge around his waist that should, at this very moment, be spilling over the side of the elastic waistband, flipping it upside down underneath the roll.
But it wasn’t there. He wasn’t cut. There were no visible abs or even hints of. But his waist, while thick and stocky, formed a smooth line from his rib cage down to his hips. The suit fit fine. Not the aesthetically superb bodies all those other boys had. But he honestly felt so fucking sexy in it. His skin radiated and glowed, his face looked light and heavenly. Wrinkles and lines that should have dotted his face had seemingly vanished under the skin treatments and massages. His skin looked weightless, ageless almost. Vivacious. He barely even processed Radden buying them.
Radden made him wear them out of the store. His previous suit was left in a trash can. Amir felt different. It made him want to walk differently, to feel the tight fabric glide across his thighs and sink into his ass crack. He rolled one leg over the over, causing his buttocks to sway behind him. And he giggled happily when Radden’s rough hand possessively groped his spandexed ass.
—--
He paid more and more attention to the vapid himbos. No longer just admiring their asses or envying their pecs, but really focusing on their behavior. They were all so bouncy, there was no other word to describe it. They moved with a spring in their step, every time they got excited they seemed to jump up and down which caused their massive pecs to tremble and their gorgeous asses to shake like a rap video. Every movement oozed sexuality, their confident struts or rolling hips and puffed out chests were obvious. But it was the little things, the way a guy bent over, forcing his ass out just a bit too much, or how another seemed to just touch everyone whenever he spoke, that drew his attention. There was a need to show-off and a need for validation, each reinforcing the other.
Speaking of, one of those hyper muscles himbos, this one with a gravity defying quiff and a lime green speedo containing an ass that shook gloriously with every movement, was rubbing a giant black dildo between his pecs while two older men groped him lecherously. The himbo seemed to be having the time of his life, titty fucking himself to ogling onlookers. And Amir had to admire, those were the nicest pecs he’d ever seen. Huge, round, high and tight, luscious hard mounds of striated muscle that would never be contained by a shirt or jacket or sweater, permanently on display. Which is surely the point. No one spends that much time, money, and energy making those perfect meaty globes without wanting to show them off to the world. It made him think of Neil, ever envious of perfect pecs. In fact, this dude would probably make Neil cream himself on site.
But as he got closer, he couldn’t help but notice that despite the bronzed, smooth skin and blissful smile, that face was awfully fucking familiar.
“Neil? What. The. Fuck?” For a brief moment, the mental fog Amir had been under thinned. The image of his friend, formerly uptight and always on the verge of arguing, titty fucking himself in broad daylight and laughing like a moron snatched him fully to reality.
“O.M.Geee! Amir, like, yay! Where have you been?” Neil’s voice had never been deep, but it had always contained a sort of rough edge, like he was moments away from shouting. But now it was airy and empty, Loud but soft, like it couldn’t ever be angry or sad.
“Where have you been?”
“The spa!” Neil licked his lips lasciviously to the delight of the older men. Neil giggled in response as one of them groped his pecs aggressively.
“What happened to you?”
“Umm, I dunno. Radden set me up with some super fun treatments! Because, like, he said I was being so fun and he wanted me to have fun!”
“Listen Neil, something-”
“Niko, Radden wants me to go by Niko now! Isn’t that, like, so fucking cute!” Yes, it was fucking cute. This version of Neil was halfway between adorable and cum-on-sight-able. His now long hair was unnaturally blond and voluminous. The face was the same, just prettier somehow: the cheekbones a bit stronger, the jaw a bit more defined, the eyes a touch wider. The body, on the other hand, was absolutely astounding. It wasn’t even like Neil had improved. No, this titan’s body looked like a gymnast on steroids. The waist was minuscule, the pecs bobbled out in front of his body like floating balloons. His thighs were thick and veiny, seemingly like they should move mountains as he marched, but instead slipped over each other with dainty precision.
“Listen, Neil-“
“Niko, baaaabes!” Even the correction has such an air of passive joy that Amir almost forgot what he was saying.
“Niko,” Amir continued, the name slipping through gritted lips though it tasted like silk as he said it. It felt good to say. Calming and soothing. Fun. “But like, Niko… what happened?”
“When?” He bounced his pecs obliviously while sipping on a neon green drink with a curly emerald straw.
“When you, umm…. With Radden?”
“Oh!” Niko's voice perked up when Amir said his name and he couldn’t help but notice a stiffening in Niko's speedo. “Yeah we, like, talked. I told him I wanted to be hot. And he helped! He is sooooo sweet!” Niko giggled, like schoolgirl giggled, and then grabbed Amir’s hand and placed it on the curve of his pec right over his nipple. And then bounced them happily, causing Amir’s fingers to rub over his nipple as Niko’s eyes rolled back into his head.
Amir was taken aback. He and his friends were many things, but not sexually active with each other. It seemed gauche. And many a queer groups had broken up over break ups and jealousy and hook-ups. But the most shocking thing about it was how not Neil’s type Amir had ever been. Neil liked guys who looked like they walked off the cover of a fitness magazine, plastic sheen and all. But now, here he was, forcing him to rub his nipples while making orgasm faces with no shame or embarrassment.
It was hot. So fucking hot. And for a brief moment, that hotness was all consuming.
But then Radden arrived. Somehow, Niko became even bubblier, his sexual aura spiking to eleven as he ran and jumped into the much taller man’s arms and proceeded to make out like two guys in a porno. Again, soooo hot. But then Amir remembered Jai and wondered how he’d feel. But there he was, another pink speedo covering his essentials and pink sunglasses over his eyes. He had a snotty smirk on his face as he sauntered up, drawing the hungry eyes of men nearby.
“Listen slut,” Jai commanded. The pair stopped kissing but Radden still held Niko, whose arms and legs were coiled around Radden’s body. “I’m the boyfriend. You’re just a side piece, got it.”
“Babe, that’s, like, soooo hot!” Niko might have twirled his hair if his hands were free. Jai looked satisfied at the response.
“I’m the queen bee. You’re just a fun, dumb fuck doll. Fun and dumb,” Jai’s words had all the venom of a teen queen.
“And I need to be filled with cum!” Niko responded obliviously. Jai just laughed and agreed.
“I need a refill. We’re going,” Jai ordered Niko, who nodded like a golden retriever. He took one last gooey kiss from a satisfied Radden before bending over backwards, his legs still around Radden’s waist, and then performing a backwards handspring to right himself. Radden swatted his ass as Jai grabbed his hand and pulled him away. They minced towards the bar together, swishing their hips to show off the prime real estate to the pleasure of everyone watching.
A smug Radden wiped his face and watched lecherously as the two sauntered off. Amir, on the other hand, immediately turned and hustled the other direction. He slipped past a trio of bangable bros in tight suits who were playfully grabbing at each other’s crotches. Through the lobby, past the shops, swiping his bracelet for the elevator and immediately heading upstairs to his room.
Weird things were going on in his head. Things and thoughts that didn’t make any sense. Watching Nei-Niko… Niko make out with Radden was weird, right? Radden was Jai’s boyfriend. But Jai didn’t care. Maybe they had an open relationship? That would at least make sense. His brain kept dancing around the actual questions he wanted to think: what the hell had happened to Neiko. Neiko. Ne-ne-Niko.
Ugh, it made his head hurt. Surely, the booze didn’t help. Nor did the sun, the workouts, the protein, the long nights and endless debauchery. He felt very lightheaded and not like he had the previous days. His head felt dizzy and uncomfortable, not the effervescent fluffiness that had been slowly turning his brain into cotton candy. He felt like vomiting or maybe passing out, but then a very strong set of arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him into a muscular body so tightly he almost gagged on the scent of Armani cologne.
“Feeling alright, doll? You ran away so quickly, I knew I needed to come check on you,” Radden whispered in his ears. Amir couldn't tell if he wanted to push off or snuggle in. He settled for doing neither, simply looking up to stare into his wondrous eyes. He reached down and cupped Amir’s face like Hamlet holding a skull. “You are so very pretty. You know that, right? All three of you, honestly. You just need a little touch up.”
Amir wanted to fight back, to squirm and pull away, but he also wanted to sink into Radden’s eyes and voice and just let himself dive into his muscled body like some romance novel slut.
“Jai had those pretty, pretty lips that just NEED to be on a dick. And Niko, well, those pecs are the stuff of dreams and now he can live out his fantasies of being a cum whore in peace. But you, you dear, sweet, Amir, you have a glorious ass. And I bet a pretty pink hole under there that is just quivering to take me.”
Amir bit his lips and looked at Radden with eyes made of melting butter.
“You’re going to look so hot taking my cock and squealing like the little whore I know is inside you.”
“But first,” Radden pushed Amir back, analyzing him coldly. “You need to get some work.” Amir tried to speak up but Radden shoved a thick finger in his mouth, silencing him. “Nothing major, nothing you don’t want. Just a hot body, bigger muscles, really turn that ass into a work of art. And tousle the hair, fill the lips, you know I think a big bottom looks great with a bit of a pelvic tilt. Not too much, don’t want to ruin a prize bull. But you’ve got those beautiful features and some bronzer wouldn’t hurt. No, no, Daddy’s got it all worked out. You just need to hit up the spa starting tomorrow.”
Amir didn’t speak, lips sucking on Radden’s finger in surprising delight. He tasted salty and musky and his brain couldn’t help but obsess over what his cock would taste like.
“It’ll take a few days, you know. But don’t worry. I’ll be keeping an eye on you. And your friends won’t even notice you’re away. After all, they’re just dumb cumsluts now. Don’t you think that’s so hot?”
There wasn’t room for disagreement. Amir just nodded, eyes wide as he stared into Radden’s brown orbs.
“Good. Remember, Daddy knows best. And starting tomorrow, you’re gonna do what Daddy says.” He ruffled Amir’s hair affectionately and pulled his finger out of Amir's mouth with a loud pop. “Now, get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day, beautiful.” Amir’s brain felt mushy and odd, like the grey matter burst into rainbows and glitter that made it impossible to do anything other than smile and nod. He stripped off his wayward bathing suit and threw himself into the plush comforts of his bed with nary a thought in his head.
—--
Amir awoke to a pair of gorgeous men in tight, white uniforms knocking on his door, offering him a fluffy robe and slippers, before ushering him down the service elevator straight into the spa. The air smelled like honeysuckle and buttercream while an army of men of all shapes, colors, and ethnicities kept busy tending to their work.
He stripped at a locker before being directed to a sauna where he spent a few minutes soaking in the heat before being put under a cold shower and then moved to a steam room filled with overpowering oils. His body was scrubbed, then he swapped between hot and cold tubs before returning to a massage table where a man of unknowable ethnicity treated his body like unmolded clay and pushed and prodded his muscles into a new shape. Then facials and more scrubs, microneedles embedded into his face, and then a man who looked like a circus strongman pulled and twisted his hips in strange ways that made his back pop constantly.
He spent most of it wearing noise cancelling headphones that played soothing chants backed by repetitive static. The only interruption came when he was given orders: turn over, stand up, sit down. No one ever explained what was happening, only what to do. Which was fine with him. He felt an overwhelming calm echoing around inside his skull, making it feel as though his brain wasn’t present at all.
The day ended with Amir strapped down on a table while a collection of long needles were inserted throughout his body, along the edge of every major muscle group. And then they began pulsing. Tingly, nearly painful, waves of electricity spasmed through his body, each moment feeling like he’d just worked out his muscles to their fullest, only to immediately be forced back into the exercise at a higher weight or greater intensity. All the while, he could do nothing except twitch and drool as the physical exertion overpowered what little remained of his brainpower.
Before he knew it, he was again wearing a robe and slippers, consuming recovery beverages the texture of mucus, as the techs took measurements and prepared him for tomorrow. He stood up dizzily and was gently escorted back to his room by hypervigilant attendants.
The process repeated over several days. New treatments were introduced. Sterilized needles were inserted into his lips and along his jaw and chin that injected strange, stiff gels that made him feel like he’d been stung by a bee. His hair was wrapped in foil and subjected to treatments under an old fashioned hair dryer while he was allowed to watch porn videos of hot guys looking rapturous as they got railed by older men.
Soon the massages were followed by waxing, where each tiny little follicle of hair anywhere below his neckline was evicted from his body with resounding glee from a babyfaced technician with red hair spiked sky high. The muscle twitch needles followed again, sending larger and larger pulses of electricity through every inch of fiber in his body, thrusting his pecs and pulling his lats and crunching his abdominals over and over again. It hurt tremendously, but like a gym burn, like he’d just exceed his limits and immediately set new, higher goals. The needle placement slowly changed, further apart as he muscles responded to the stimuli and sustenance, as they grew into a bulky, masculine form like a gymnast in his prime. Those sessions were always followed by intense stretching where his legs were slowly pressed into perfectly straight lines, front to back, side to side, and over his head.
The back popper happened more frequently, moving up and down his spine, seeming to snap things into place. It kept feeling deeper, like the change happened further inside the spine, altering his stance outright. He began spending extra time right at his hips, pushing his buttocks back and forth in a small thrusting motion. His thumbs remained firmly pressed against Amir’s butthole the entire time, creating a not unpleasant sensation throughout the process.
The chanting began forming into words. Fun words. Things that made him want to have fun. To be fun. To not worry or think or stress. Instead, he focused on how good it felt to be pretty, to wear pretty clothes, to make men horny just by looking at you. God, he wanted men to get hard just seeing him! Wouldn’t that be the life, to be so fucking sexy that hot guys just threw themselves at him? And he’d want them all. Want to take them all. Want to be filled by their hard rods past the point of sanity, until he was just a writhing and moaning mass of muscles and rainbows.
He was constantly hard. And leaking. And harder muscles made his brain leak, too. Pesky thoughts and fears just drained out as his personality got polished and shined and plasticized. Nothing deep, nothing interesting. Surface. Hot. Fun. Dumb.
—--
Time became meaningless. His days were just cycles of being tended to in one way or another. It felt right. It felt like what he deserved. Another massage, some lotion, hair styling, and then suddenly things changed. The attendants took him to a large room with a circular multi-panel mirror. Andd he saw himself for the first time.
He was GORGEOUS!
Every inch of his dark skin, denuded of hair, now shone in amber brilliance, luminescent, obviously artificial, and perfectly smooth. No human on earth naturally had this color. It was a testament to tanning and skincare, a proclamation that the person who cultivated this amber glaze obsessed over their physical appearance on a level most people could only dream of.
Amir’s face had been cute, charming even, in the right lighting. But now it would stop traffic. His cheekbones rode high and wide on his formerly blocky face, giving it some harsh angularity that put runway models to shame. His lips were fuller, pinker, and hung ever so slightly open, a constant seductive pout. Bushy brows had been plucked and laminated into dark blades, inviting people to stare into his wider eyes whose brown color looked a bit lighter now, woodier with fantasies of forest greens amidst the bark. And on top of it all was bleach blond, pure white hair, mostly swept back but a few loose curls dangled just above his left eye.
But that was just the start. Amir’s body, previously thick and slightly flabby and devoid of any visible muscle, now shamed Apollo. His lats spread wider than his chest, reshaping him into a stunning male hourglass, thick, wide shoulders that cascaded into meaty pecs before tightening into hearty, natural abs– the kind of abs that existed for more than vanity, they suggested that he could bend or twirl into positions unimaginable by an average man.
All of that was nothing. Below his abs, his body ballooned out into the most delicious, curvy, round, perky, prominent, aggressively sexual ass he’d ever seen. This ass wasn’t a dumptruck, it was a fucking pickup truck because men would be riding in the back constantly! It was perfect! Huge and high and muscular with just the perfect level of fleshy bouncy that shook and wiggled with every step. It belonged on the Mount Rushmore of asses, a thing of such phenomenal beauty it just begged to be used.
And the thought of being used, of being fucked until dawn by some aggressive mega-dicked top with the stamina of a breeding ox just filled him with such passion, such lust, he couldn’t help but bite his lips like a vixen hoping to entice men. He wanted, no he needed, to be seen. Not as a person but as a sexual object.
God it made him feel so hot.
He stood, utterly transfixed by the myriad of flawless reflections that cooed back at him with ravenous, sexual hunger in their eyes. His hips tilted forward slightly, a little curve in his lower back, that caused his ass to jut out a bit further, a bit higher, a bit more enticing, like a fleshy bait to lure cocks to his hole. Never, in his life, had he stood in front of a mirror totally naked and felt nothing but admiration for the form before him. It had no flaws, no worries. There was nothing to improve. He looked like an Olympic gymnast with a great plastic surgeon who made millions of dollars on OnlyFans doing nothing more than exposing his body and offering sultry looks.
“Well, well, well,” the deep, breathy words came from behind Amir. He turned to see Radden, in a leopard print Versace speedo and a delicate linen button down left open to show off his pecs and abs, clapping softly as he admired Amir’s new form. “You look perfect,” he purred. Amir might have blushed, but instead he just posed, pushing out his glutes more and puffing up his lips as though offering a kiss. Radden strut over, the leopard print covered package bounding from side to side in a mouth watering and hole wetting display. Amir looked up expectantly as he approached, eager for more approval.
Radden didn’t say more, he just took in the sight of Amir’s altered form, playing with the curls in his hair and patting his muscles as though inspecting a product. He cupped Amir’s balls with one hand, gliding his fingers across their newfound smoothness in gentle appreciation. His other hand nestled up inside Amir’s gigantic booty until one finger was firmly planted on his butthole. Amir bit his lip and released a lush, porny moan that he would never, ever have made before. But now it slipped out as naturally as blinking.
“Good boy,” he whispered erotically into Amir’s ear. Amir whimpered submissively in response and then his face twisted into a lustful smirk as he began rolling his butt, slowly snaking Radden’s finger inside his hole. Radden let him continue for a few moments, proudly baring down on his latest conquest before pulling off as Amir released a squeaky whine.
“Not yet,” Radden put a finger over Amir’s lips. “We still have work to do. Now,” he turned the technicians with dispassionate professionalism. “Is everything as ordered?”
They confirmed, laying out a list of detailed improvements Radden had commanded: lips, cheeks, muscles, glutes, brain, personality. Amir just stood silently, not paying attention, as the details of his own transformation were laid bare. He did catch a few words, specific measurement of pelvic tilt, gluteal curvature, reformatted personality type. But none of that was very interesting. Radden, looking so serious and business-like, was more fun to watch. Despite being dressed in a showy speedo, he still commanded the room and the men in it like a ruthless CEO acquiring a rival company. Amir got hard again.
“Now that that’s settled,” Radden returned his attention to Amir. His voice dropped the harsh tones he’d addressed the help with and adopted the cloyingly sweet tones he used talking to his boytoys. “We just have a few more things to do, okay baby?” Amir was given a collection of jewelry, a turtle embossed bracelet, a dainty little silver chain, and a tiny stud in his nose. With grandiose flourish, as though introducing this season's debutante, he produced a tiny pair of baby blue fabric with a Grecian design on it. The Versace swim briefs from earlier. Amir clapped giddily and reached for them, but Radden shushed him and insisted on dressing him like a doll. He stepped into the swimsuit and Radden slid the tight fabric over his smoothed and enlarged legs, forced it backwards over the luscious rump of his titanic ass and pressed his cock and balls downwards as he allowed the waistband of the suit to snap around his tiny waist.
Amir creamed himself immediately.
“Now that’s my beautiful boy,” Radden cooed. “Oh, and one final note. Since you are such a good boy, aren’t you?” Amir nodded eagerly. “See, you’re almost perfect now, so pretty, so stupid, so obsessed with cock and cum that you’ll treat your body like a holy temple dedicated to the pleasures of homosexuality. And that temple deserves a good name, doesn’t it? Not Amir. That’s so boring, so lame. You wanna be fun and simple and stupid and hot, right doll?”
Ami was so hard, despite having just cum, that not a single drop of blood was pumping to his brain. His vision blurred and a bystander could almost hear the whirring clink of broken joints as Amir’s mind stopped and slowed and ceased. His face nodded in agreement.
“Good, cause I think it would be soooo hot if you were named Rio. R-I-O. Fun, right?” Sparkles, rainbows, a sun exploding into atoms, nothing could quite explain exactly what happened inside his head at that moment. Only that the words broke something, or rather fixed something, permanently.
“Tell me your name,” Radden’s command was strong but seductive, a dom coming home to roost.
“I’m Rio!” Sparkles, rainbows, cotton candy exploded inside his head.
“Again.”
“I’m Rio!” Sweet, charming, hyper sexual, and completely and utterly devoted. Rio, freed from Amir and his body and brain, shifted just a bit. A bit cockier, looser, gaining full comfort in his new form and function like a prisoner freed from shackles and now standing upright.
Radden walked next to Rio and grabbed his glutes aggressively. Rio forced them back into his hand with a subtle moan. Radden slapped his glutes and watched them jiggle.
“Now, we’re gonna go back to the room and you’re gonna show me that pretty hole I paid for. And I’m gonna fuck you so hard that anything left behind in that pretty head of yours is gonna melt. I’m gonna turn your hole into a cavern. My cock is going to become your God and salvation.” Rio’s eyes fluttered and his heart raced at the promise of a good fucking. He needed it, like fundamentally needed it, as much as he needed water and food. Without another word, Radden slipped the D&G sunglasses over Rio’s eyes. The perfect finishing touch for a trophy.
Radden’s hand pawing as his newfound ass, Rio paraded through the main lobby like a hero from war. He could tell people were looking at him, knew they were devouring his ass with their eyes, knew they were envying Radden’s huge hand on his bulbous mound. It felt fucking great.
They were both hard and leaking by the time they got the room. Briefs were stripped off unceremoniously, though Radden didn’t bother taking off his shirt. He hoisted Rio up and fireman’s carried him into the master suite. Rio didn’t spend a second taking in the massive luxury of the room, superior to the practically pitiful room he had by comparison. His entire brain focused on the massive erection riding up from Radden, the purple head bobbing several inches above his bellybutton and dripping with semen.
Unceremoniously, he flipped Rio on his back and pushed his legs over his head, forcing them straight and insisted he keep the toes pointed. All the body reshaping Rio had undergone meant that it was completely natural. Radden admired the hole, praising its color and shape, and then with brutal efficiency, plunged his hard cock inside.
There was nothing romantic about the sex, no emotions, just need. Rio wasn’t his boyfriend after all; he was just a hole. And Radden pistoned in and out of him like a beast releasing years of pent up aggression as only sex can. For Rio it was more sparkles and rainbows. A cock, a huge cock, thrusting inside of him and treating his body like a fleshlight was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He didn’t touch his own dick. He didn’t need to. His prostate was what mattered now; the top’s cock is what mattered now. He’d cum when they did, once they dumped their thick loads inside him and left him sweaty and leaky and ready for more. Rio would always be up for round two. And round three.
It ended quickly but ferociously, with Radden releasing a primal cry into the sky, veins bulging across his neck as the spasming rod inside Rio sent them both into orgasmic bliss. Rio’s own cock blasted out and launched his cum directly into his mouth. He let out a stilted moan as he slurped down his own cum with glee.
—--
Everything was soooo much more fun now. The boytoys got up, worked out, looked hot, and tended to Radden’s sexual needs. Otherwise, they did whatever they wanted. They’d flirt with other hot himbos or rich old men. They got shitfaced drunk and grinded their sweaty bodies on dance floors. The trio even ended up in a gymnastics contest, donning leotards and doing flips and cartwheels with relative ease, although their exaggerated physiques kept them slightly off balance.
Radden kept them color coded for convenience: pink for Jai, green for Niko, blue for Rio. Everyday he picked out matching swimsuits with flashy designer labels prominent and loud. Rio’s collection of high-end sunglasses grew daily as Radden shopped with him, happily choosing the perfect pair for his newest toy.
They still had the spa daily, though now the whole foursome went together and got their facials and massages. Jai still sucked Radden dry after a good massage, but Niko was on hand for a tit fucking while Rio kept his bussy clean and lubed just in case Radden needed to blow off some steam. And of course, any other guy who caught his fancy. Rio’s sex drive had turned from mild to insatiable. He LOVED it. But he never felt satisfied. Within minutes, he’d be ready to search for another dick, another load, another guy to flirt and flounce with.
Rio was hot as fuck, horny as hell, dumb as a rock, and could not have been any happier.
They’d have to leave soon, unfortunately. Rio briefly thought about his passport, what had happened to it, but that thought soon dissolved into nothingness. Radden would take care of anything important. His purpose wasn’t to stress or worry. That was for ugly people. Himbos like him were supposed to be hot, fun, horny, and available. And he loved it.
Originally posted on Patreon in October 2023. A new story is imminent, and there’s already an extensive archive, exclusive artwork and my Discord! Join now and don’t miss out.
Aardvark: BlueSky | Patreon | Ko-fi | Pay-Pal
They were bros, CJ Miller and Pierce Smith. Inseparable since freshman year of high school, to the point that they’d gone to the same college and pledged the same frat. It was only natural that when Pierce finally cashed in his high school graduation gift from his aunt - a vacation for him and a friend - he’d chosen to go with CJ to California.
“What does your aunt do again?” CJ asked when they saw the hotel she’d booked for them. The place looked like a castle on the outside and was even fancier once they went in. Uniformed staff were on them immediately, taking their bags and ushering them to check-in while offering them complimentary cocktails.
“She’s in private equity,” Pierce said.
“I can tell. We don’t fit in here,” CJ snickered.
“Weeeeee do not,” Pierce whispered as he sidled up to the counter. “Hey, I’m checking in - last name’s Smith.”
On the other side was a blond-haired bodybuilder in a light purple shirt, his white teeth gleaming in a customer service smile. “Absolutely, sir,” he said in a pleasant tenor. “And your first name?”
“Pierce.” Pierce spelled it out.
The bodybuilder nodded and typed at his keyboard for several moments while CJ and Pierce scrolled through their phones. Finally, he spoke. “Alright, Mr. Smith, your room is prepaid, I’ll just need a credit card on file for incidentals.”
“Sure.” Pierce handed his only credit card over, and turned to CJ as the employee swiped it through. “No rock star shit, I’ll go bankrupt.”
“Can’t make any promises,” CJ grinned.
“Keys for both of you,” the bodybuilder said, sliding them across the counter along with Pierce’s credit card. “Your bags will be in your room. Would you like any information about our onsite amenities?”
“No thanks,” Pierce said, and as he and CJ walked to the elevator, he laughed. “We cannot afford ANYTHING here.”
“Nope. Glad you put your card down so I’m not on the hook though,” CJ laughed.
“If I owe any money when we check out I’ll fuckin’ murder you.”
“‘Reasonable.” CJ noticed something and grabbed Pierce’s shoulder. “Bro, look.” He nodded toward a printed sign sitting on an easel.
Welcome
Smith-Miller
Wedding Party
The words were written in tall calligraphy, surrounded by an array of artistic hearts and sparkles.
Both guys busted out laughing loud enough to turn a couple heads in the lobby. “Didn’t know we were getting married this weekend, bro,” Pierce guffawed. “Shit, I gotta get a pic of that.”
“I know we have common last names but that’s so funny,” CJ laughed, taking his own pic. “Which one do you think the groom is?”
“Smith, obviously. Miller’s a girl last name.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Pierce waved down a woman as she walked by. “‘Scuse me, would you take our picture really quick? With this sign? It’s our last names-”
“-but NOT our wedding,” CJ clarified quickly. “We’re not gay.”
The woman nodded and took Pierce’s phone, snapping pics of them standing on either side of the sign giving thumbs-up. “You should do something romantic to be funny,” she suggested, so Pierce and CJ did a prom pose, Pierce behind CJ with his hands resting awkwardly on his buddy’s hips. Then they stood next to the sign and held hands while making goofy faces. “Perfect.”
“Thanks so much,” Pierce said, taking his phone back. “Have a good weekend.”
“You too, good luck with the wedding,” she joked. At least, both boys hoped she was joking and didn’t think they were actually gay.
Pierce and CJ walked to the elevator and got on. “What’s the floor?” Pierce asked.
“7.” CJ scanned his card and punched it. The metallic doors shut, reflecting CJ and Pierce back at themselves. That was when they realized they were still holding hands. “Oh, whoops,” CJ said, letting go.
“Hm?” Pierce said, turning to look at CJ.
“I forgot we were still holding hands. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Bros can hold hands.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” CJ took Pierce’s hand back and laced their fingers together. Both guys grinned. “I’m excited for this weekend, dude.”
“Me too. Gonna be so fun. What do you wanna do first? Swim? Nap?”
“Maybe work out? But I always get so hungry after I lift and I know we can’t eat here, it’s too fucking expensive.”
“Yeah, it’s really cool of my aunt to put us here ‘cause I know it isn’t cheap, but also like...we’re gonna have to Uber to McDonald’s every day, if there’s even one around here.”
“Maybe like...one nice dinner,” CJ suggested. “And the rest of the time we’ll be careful.”
“Maybe, but we didn’t even bring nice clothes,” Pierce said as the elevator doors opened to their floor. “All I have is shorts and t-shirts. I even looked at the blazer I wore to the Greek Life mixer while I was packing and decided last minute not to bring it. Wish I had.”
“Dude, I did the same thing.” CJ let go of Pierce’s hand to get his room key out. “Oh well. We’ll figure it out. It’s gonna be dope. Gotta take lots of pics to make the guys jealous.”
“Totally.”
“Speaking of clothes,” CJ remembered, “did you see that guy downstairs?”
“Oh, the one who checked us in? Dude, I know. Those muscles. Kinda badass-” Pierce briefly stopped talking as he flopped down onto the bed and groaned with contentment, “-kinda gay too though.”
“Yeah, all those open buttons. I guess if you’ve worked that hard you wanna show it off, but still.” CJ dropped onto his own bed. “Ooooof, that feels good. But if we fall asleep we’ll miss so much of the day.”
“You’re right, but...I don’t wanna get up,” Pierce sighed. He reached into his pocket, pulled his phone out, and got on Instagram. “We’re heeeeere,” he said to the video. “Room is dope. My bro is dope. Ceej, you good?” Pierce angled his phone toward CJ on the bed, and CJ mumbled a ‘hello’ into the comforter and flashed a tired thumbs up. Pierce laughed and turned the phone back to himself. “We had a long flight...uhhh, gonna do some cool shit today hopefully. Also there’s a wedding here in the hotel and the couple has the same last names as us, so that’s pretty crazy. Hey Ceej, you wanna get married?” The video ended with their laughter at this question, as CJ’s response was to chuck a pillow at Pierce’s head and knock the phone out of his hand.
After lying in silence for a few moments and enjoying the comfort of their beds, CJ propped himself up on his elbows. “Okay bro. Gotta get up. Maybe go for a swim? Then eat something?”
“Yeah, I’m down with that.” Pierce rolled onto his feet and ambled over to his suitcase. He unzipped it and rummaged for several moments. CJ did the same, heaving his bag up onto the bed for a better angle. “I brought two swimsuits, which one do you think? This one?” Pierce held up a pair of navy blue board shorts printed with palm trees. “Or this one?” He raised his other hand. From his index finger hung a tiny red cheetah-print swim brief.
“What the fuck is that?” CJ pointed to the brief.
“What?”
“That’s kinda gay, bro.”
“It’s not gay. Lots of bros have swim briefs,” Pierce responded, slightly hurt.
“I mean, yeah, I brought a bikini too,” CJ said, holding up an even smaller swimsuit with blue and white stripes. “Yours is just so bright.”
“Did you bring your board shorts too? Maybe we should wear those today, then.”
“Yeah, I did.” CJ found his white trunks at the bottom of his bag and shuffled off to the bathroom to change in private. While CJ was behind the door, Pierce took the opportunity to shuck off his khaki shorts and put on his own swim trunks. He was lacing up the trunks when CJ came back out. “Shall we?”
“Think they have towels down there?”
“Yeah, I’m sure they do. We gonna do the beach or the pool?”
“Let’s do beach. I want to tan.” Pierce grabbed a bottle of tanning oil from his bag, then took CJ’s outstretched hand before they walked out of the room.
“Since when do you tan?”
“I don’t usually, but hey, we’re at the beach.”
“True.”
They got on the elevator with an older couple. The ride was silent, but both CJ and Pierce noticed the husband give them an odd look when he saw they were holding hands. It didn’t bother them, though. Bros held hands all the time.
--------
“Oil me up, would you bro?” Pierce handed his bottle of tanning oil to CJ, who obligingly began rubbing it all over his friend’s back.
“Been working out, dude? You’ve got some nice definition back here.”
“Thanks, man. Your hands feel nice.”
CJ took turns rubbing oil on Pierce, then on himself. “I should use this stuff more often. I like how it feels.”
“Yeah, this is my favorite brand. Protects from the sun a little bit but still gets you really dark, and it moisturizes and shit too.”
“Nice.” CJ ran his fingers down into the waistband of Pierce’s trunks.
“Watch those hands, bro.”
“Just making sure you’re all covered.” CJ put his hand fully into Pierce’s swim trunks, grabbing a handful of his friend’s buttock.
“Dude!”
“Just messing with you,” CJ grinned, removing his hand and slapping Pierce on the back. “Just bro stuff. You’re all set.”
“Thanks, bro.” Pierce lay down on his beach towel and popped his sunglasses on. He smiled up at the bright blue sky. “It’s so fucking pretty here.”
“Seriously. I’m so glad we picked this spot.” CJ lay on his back next to Pierce and laced his fingers through his buddy’s. “The oil makes us look so shiny,” he chuckled, looking down at his chest.
“Kinda hot, right?”
“Yeah, it’s hot,” CJ agreed.
“After this, do you think work out, then dinner?”
“Sounds good to me. Where should we eat?”
“We can eat here. I know it’s gonna be expensive but I have some money stashed away and I can always ask my parents too. When in Rome, right?”
“Ugh, I’ll feel bad if they pay for me.”
“Don’t feel bad, man. They love you,” Pierce reassured. They sat for the next few minutes looking at the surf and relishing the sun on their skin until Pierce spoke back up. “This is a weird question, I know, but like...when did we start caring about working out?”
“You mean when did I?”
“Both of us, but yeah.”
CJ thought for a moment. “I guess just last semester. I never cared in high school, really, and since I did track I didn’t have a lot of strength workouts, just cardio shit. But then I got to college and noticed the guys who pulled the most were the ones with like, bigger arms and abs and shit. And I wanted abs.”
“Yeah, abs are sexy.”
“Totally, bro, abs look so hot on guys. Anyway, why do you ask?”
Pierce twitched his left shoulder upward as a shrug. “I dunno, I just realized we were talking so naturally all day about working out, but I don’t remember either of us being big into it. That’s all.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But it’s a fun thing to do on vacation.”
“Yeah,” Pierce agreed. “And I don’t think we’ve ever worked out together, so that’ll be cool.”
“Yeah, bro. New experiences on vacation. I’m so glad we did this.” CJ squeezed Pierce’s hand tighter, and Pierce squeezed back.
--------
“Your ass looks great, bro,” Pierce said as they made their way back to the hotel, suits dripping from a quick dip in the ocean.
“Yeah? Thanks man. Enjoy the view.” As they walked up a small set of steps to the back entrance, CJ stuck his butt out. Pierce gave it a slap. “Oooh, I’ll get you for that,” CJ said as they walked inside and got on the elevator.
“What’re you gonna do about iiiIiIAHHH--” Pierce groaned as CJ twisted his nipple. They wrestled for a few seconds before he managed to push CJ away. “Don’t do that! I hate that shit.”
“Shoulda worn a t-shirt then. But it doesn’t look to me like you hate it,” CJ said, looking down at Pierce’s wet swim trunks. A freshly-grown semi was tenting them.
“Fuck,” Pierce groaned, putting his hands over his crotch. “Sorry, I dunno what I-”
“You like that, huh?” CJ interrupted, stepping forward and putting his hands on Pierce’s bare chest. His fingers groped the flesh and took special care to tug and twist Pierce’s nipples.
“Stop, bro-” Pierce let out a soft moan.
“Play with mine,” CJ commanded, but then the elevator dinged and the doors opened to their floor, where two teenage girls were standing and waiting. CJ and Pierce pulled apart quickly and walked off, avoiding the weird looks the girls shot them.
“They’re all red, you fucker,” Pierce complained, looking at his nipples. “Don’t do that again!”
CJ was laughing as they walked into the room. “You didn’t know what to do, that was so fucking funny! Serves you right for smacking my ass.” He stuck his butt out again to taunt Pierce, but this time his swim trunks split down the back, exposing his ass crack. It was CJ’s turn to go bright red from embarrassment, and he launched himself into the bathroom soundtracked by Pierce’s raucous laughter. “Dammit!” CJ yelled from behind the door, which just made Pierce laugh harder. He fondled his nuts through his swim trunks as he thought about CJ’s bare butt. He stopped once CJ emerged from the bathroom, shirtless and grumbling, his destroyed swim trunks in one hand and a towel around his waist.
“Damn, bro, do you even need to work out today?” Pierce asked, ogling CJ’s torso. “That 8-pack is looking diesel.”
CJ brightened at this compliment. “Thanks man! But there’s more to working out than just abs. I still have a long way to go,” he shrugged as he went through his luggage to find underwear. He selected a bright white Armani jockstrap.
“Sure, you just look super hot. You’re so cut.”
“Thanks. You look hot too,” CJ winked as he walked back into the bathroom to put his jockstrap on. While CJ was behind the door, Pierce took the opportunity to change into one of his own jockstraps, his favorite black and red Nasty Pig one. He was positioning his junk in the pouch when CJ walked out. “I wish we could just work out in these, y’know?”
“Totally, bro.” Since CJ had freaked out moments before about his swimsuit ripping, Pierce was surprised his buddy was fine wearing a jockstrap that exposed just as much ass, but he decided to not mention it. Instead, he just put on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “These are shorter than I remember,” he mumbled.
“Mine too, but why not show off a little thigh,” CJ joked, extending a leg to see his quads flex around the knee. He continued to inspect them as he put on his socks and sneakers, only stopping once he stood up. “You ready?”
“You got your room key?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool, let’s go.” Pierce stretched out his hand and CJ took it, and they headed out.
--------
“Holy shit, it’s a full gym!” Pierce exclaimed as they walked in. “I thought we’d get a couple machines and a treadmill. Look, squat rack and everything.”
“What are you working today?” CJ asked, grabbing towels for them both.
“I think full body? I haven’t worked out in a couple days, so I’m fully rested.”
“Yeah, I love a full body workout,” CJ growled, giving Pierce’s ass a squeeze as he brushed by.
“I know you do, bro.”
They split up to start with; CJ did deadlifts while Pierce selected squats. Sweat rolled down their faces and soaked their t-shirts, making the fabric cling to their straining muscles. Each watched the other through the mirrors, enjoying the view of their forms pumping up from the compound movements. CJ finished deadlifting first and made his way over to Pierce on wobbly legs. “I need you,” Pierce grunted as he stalled at the bottom of his lift.
“I got you, bro.” CJ squatted down and put his arms around Pierce, his dick pressing against his buddy’s butt. “C’mon. You got it.” He used the hug to spot Pierce’s press upward. “Another. C’mon, bro.” Pierce went down, wobbled, then put more weight on CJ as he pushed up. “Another,” CJ barked.
“I can’t,” Pierce squeaked, sweat pouring into his eyes.”
“You got this, bro, c’mon.”
“I can’t do it…”
“C’mon bro, fuckin’ lift that weight. One more rep, babe, one more rep. Thaaat’s it.” Pierce lowered down, groaning loudly, and as they stood up together, CJ’s dick slid right between his ass cheeks. It stayed there as the weight slammed into the rack and Pierce stumbled back into CJ’s arms. “You fuckin’ did it, babe, I’m so proud of you.” CJ gave Pierce’s cheek a celebratory kiss.
“I wanna go back to the room,” Pierce laughed as he toweled himself off. “But I can rally as long as we do something seated next.” The towel ran against his face and he recalled, “You kissed me on the cheek, man.”
“Bros kiss on cheeks all the time,” CJ laughed. “C’mon now.”
“Just seemed kinda gay is all.”
“Not gay at all, babe.” CJ flared his lats. They shoved against his t-shirt’s side seams.
“Easy, man, I wasn’t calling YOU gay or anything. Let’s just do arms.”
“Wish there was a preacher bench here but can’t have it all,” CJ said, looking around. “Seated curls?”
“Seated, please,” Pierce laughed, putting his hands on a bench and falling onto it as his hamstrings spasmed. Between his legs, his erection stood straight upward, tenting his shorts. “Can you hand me weights? I think I might be stuck here,” he said, massaging one leg.
CJ grabbed a pair of 50s and put them in Pierce’s waiting hands, then got another pair for himself.
“50 pounds? Don’t most guys do a lot less?” Pierce asked, struggling to balance the dumbbells on his thighs.
“Yeah, but we’re not most guys,” CJ said, and with a grunt, he tried to curl one dumbbell up. He failed. Pierce made an attempt and got the same result, but the two bros exchanged looks and tried again, yelling loudly as they forced their dumbbells up to their shoulders. The sweat started again, trickling down their cheeks as they shouted through another rep, and another, and another, arms expanding in size as veins pushed out of their skin.
CJ’s sleeve burst first, but as soon as Pierce noticed, his did too. Instead of worrying about how fast their arms had doubled in size, they were focused solely on getting more reps. Their biceps twitched and trembled, sinews shimmering until the vibrations tore out their remaining sleeves and their groans turned to moans. “Cramp - cramp,” CJ yelped, his fingers staying curled even as the dumbbells fell from his grip. Pierce dropped his weights too, and the two friends sat on their benches and rubbed their aching arms. “I think...that’s enough for the biceps,” CJ huffed. “Maybe some skullcrushers for tris.”
“Yeah.”
There was only one EZ bar with the weight they wanted, so while one man did skullcrushers, the other did push-ups, then they’d switch. Their arms pumped up obligingly, full and thick as they flexed in the mirror. Pierce gave CJ’s a squeeze. “We have a ways to go but we’re looking pretty good,” he said.
“Yeah...like, not huge, but you can definitely tell we work out,” CJ agreed. “Once we’re done here we just need to eat a lot and get good sleep so we can grow.”
“Thank you, Men’s Health, I never would have known that otherwise,” Pierce teased.
“Shut up.” CJ lunged at his buddy playfully, and Pierce flipped him off. “Chest press with dumbbells?”
“Yeah, perfect.” Pierce grabbed weights before stopping and looking out the window. “It’s so fuckin’ pretty here. Too bad we have to work out inside.”
“I know. I wish they had one of those beach gyms, those are fun. We only have a little bit more to do, though.” CJ kicked his weights up and rolled back onto his bench. Pierce did the same, and soon their grunts were echoing through the gym again as they pressed the dumbbells up while keeping their elbows as steady as possible. After three sets, Pierce stood up.
“Too light,” he grunted, crashing the dumbbells into the rack and grabbing a pair of 100s.
“Your titties are ripping through your shirt,” CJ said, nodding toward a horizontal tear in the fabric under Pierce’s chest.
Pierce chuckled. “So are yours.”
CJ looked down at a vertical rip in between his pecs. “Yessss. Guess I need to go heavier too then.”
They flopped back on the benches and yelled louder thanks to the additional exertion. Pierce’s nipples made their way out of his ripping shirt, while CJ’s tee tore open all the way to his bellybutton. After the weights crashed to the floor, the two men stayed flat on their benches, groping their chests and moaning. “Don’t cum, you nasty fucker,” Pierce said to CJ as he eyed his friend’s erection.
“I want to but I won’t.” CJ sat up and looked at himself in the mirror. His pecs were square and solid, like a shelf on his torso. He couldn’t stop touching them even as he stood up and put his weights away one at a time. “C’mon,” he said, offering his hand to Pierce and pulling him up. Pierce rolled onto his feet and fell into CJ’s arms, their swollen chests smashing together and giving them another chance to play with each other’s nipples. “Your pecs are so big and round, it’s so fucking hot,” CJ grunted.
“Yours are more solid than mine,” Pierce responded, wedging his hand under CJ’s left pec.
“It’s not a competition.”
“Everything’s a competition,” Pierce grinned. “I want mine to be as big as your fucking head.”
“I’d love to see that,” CJ said, breaking the embrace to put Pierce’s weights away.
“I don’t really feel up to a fancy dinner tonight,” Pierce said as he flexed for himself in the mirror, further tearing his shirt. “Maybe we can just order to the room and go to bed early so we can have a full day tomorrow.”
“That’s fine, yeah,” CJ nodded. “I’m pretty tired already.”
--------
They ordered in burgers from a nearby restaurant instead of room service, so that they could afford to each have two. While waiting for the delivery, they took turns showering and threw out their destroyed clothes, changing into fresh t-shirts and shorts. Their sweat-stained jocks went into laundry bags in their suitcases - and weren’t replaced on their bodies, with both guys opting to go commando under their shorts.
They were halfway through eating when the soft, subtle sound of fabric tearing could be heard in the room. CJ set his second burger down and reached under his arm, fingering a burst seam running down his side. “Dude, this pump is fucking crazy.”
“Is mine torn?” Pierce stood up and turned around. There was a rip running down the length of his spine.
“Shit, yeah. You won’t be able to wear that one anymore.”
“What the fuck, bro. Muscles so big I’m ruining all my clothes.” Pierce tore into his hamburger and kept speaking with his mouth full. “I’m running out of t-shirts.”
“Guess you’ll have to go shirtless and show everyone that torso,” CJ grinned.
“Even our shorts are tearing,” Pierce said, pointing to small rips around CJ’s bulky thighs.
“Fucking awesome,” CJ said, a mix of exasperation over destroying more clothing, and excitement over how good he looked. “I don’t wanna have to buy more shit.”
“Might not have a choice,” Pierce shrugged, bursting stitches on his left shoulder. After that, they ate in silence, soundtracked only by their clothing continuing to shred. CJ’s thighs and butt unfurled out of his shorts, while Pierce’s chest and shoulders eventually made their way through his shirt. By the time they were cleaning up after themselves, they were close to naked, with CJ’s dick only half covered by the loincloth that was once his shorts.
“Y’know what’s dope, babe?” CJ said, pawing at his crotch with one hand while he brushed his teeth with the other.
“Mm?”
“I think we’re the biggest guys in the frat and we’re still underclassmen.”
“Totally, bro. Imagine us in a couple years if we keep this training up.”
CJ got an erection at the thought, which, along with his evil smirk, did all the talking for him. While CJ was in the bathroom, Pierce took the chance to strip off his clothes and flex in the mirror, hopping nude into bed just as CJ walked out. “We look like fucking bodybuilders, man,” Pierce said excitedly.
“We ARE fucking bodybuilders, baby,” CJ smiled. He had a towel around his waist and walked over to the beds. “Goodnight.” He bent down and kissed Pierce on the cheek.
“‘Night.” Pierce leaned back into his pillows. “Do bros kiss goodnight?”
“Of course they do.” CJ clicked the light off, and his towel hit the floor seconds later. His huge, naked form was silhouetted in the darkness as he climbed into bed. “Thanks for bringing me on this trip, babe. It really means a lot.”
“Of course, man. I would never bring anyone else. I love spending time with you.”
For ten minutes after this statement, it was dark and silent in the room. And then, quietly, springs could be heard squeaking back and forth from Pierce’s side of the room. After a few moments of this, an abrupt moan cut through the quiet. Soon, CJ’s bed was making the same sound. Blankets were kicked off, and in the darkness, both muscled forms sat up. The dim light through the curtains was just enough to make out rippling shoulders - and hard cocks sticking straight out and being rubbed excitedly.
Pierce’s moans were sensual and loud, while CJ was a grunter. The sounds drowned out odd popping coming from their bodies, the squeaks of their beds gaining in intensity, until Pierce gave a sharp cry and fell forward, panting. Moments later, CJ did the same, groaning “Fuck yeah” as his big frame crashed back into the mattress.
--------
CJ’s eyes cracked open as threads of gold sunlight cut across the room to reach his face. He turned his head and looked over at his buddy. Pierce was sleeping in a weird way - he’d flipped in the night and his legs were by his pillows, with one sticking out next to the nightstand…
It took CJ seeing Pierce’s hand to realize that the limb protruding out of the sheets was not Pierce’s leg, but was, in fact, his arm. The arm mimicked the size of a leg - bicep as big as a thigh, forearm like a football-shaped calf. “Jesus Christ,” CJ said in awe. His eyes flipped to the clock right by Pierce’s big hand. 8:57am…
“Shit. SHIT!” CJ shot out of bed like he’d been catapulted. He didn’t have time to worry about being completely naked as he ran into the bathroom. “Pierce! Wake up!”
“Mmguh?” Pierce’s head raised an inch off his pillow, his hair sticking straight up toward the ceiling. “Whutimeisit…”
“I have a meeting!” CJ shouted over the sound of the bathroom sink that he was currently dunking his head in. “Grab a shirt and tie out of my bag for me!”
“A...meeting?” Pierce was barely awake, staring bleary-eyed at the window. He swung one leg out from under his duvet, and his foot crashed into the floor with a lamp-rattling thump. “Like for the frat?” He stood up, his morning wood standing at a 90-degree angle from his body. He shuffled over to CJ’s bag and opened it. Piles of dress shirts and rolled-up ties greeted him. “Whuh…”
“The frat?! No dumbass, for work!” CJ was frantically combing his wettened hair into a side part. “They know I’m on vacation but I told them I’d join this one meeting because it’s a high priority project.”
Pierce picked a white shirt and a light blue silk tie. He draped the tie around his neck and knotted it into a full Windsor to save CJ time.
CJ flew out of the bathroom, his brawny muscles and exposed cock briefly shocking Pierce until he remembered to hold the white shirt out. CJ slid his arms into it and started buttoning it up. “Thank you, can you grab my cufflinks too? I’m such a fucking idiot, I can’t believe I didn’t set an alarm…shit, it’s 9:01…”
“Cufflinks, cufflinks...where are they?!” Pierce tore through CJ’s suitcase.
“Side pocket!”
“Got them.” Pierce hopped up. “Here, get your tie.”
“Thank you for tying it,” CJ said, sliding the knotted tie over Pierce’s head. He put the tie over his own head, then worked on getting his links through his French cuffs as Pierce fixed his collar for him. “Thank you baby. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Pierce said, his dick slapping against CJ’s thighs as he pushed CJ’s tie knot all the way up. “You look so handsome.” He leaned forward and pecked his buddy on the cheek. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, babe.” CJ sat down in the room’s lounge chair and opened up his laptop.
“Do you want underwear-”
“No time. Is my hair okay?”
“Yeah.”
CJ didn’t respond because he was starting up the meeting hangout. “Good morning, everyone,” he said in a deeper voice. “Charles here. Sorry for the delay, I was having wifi troubles.”
Pierce got back into bed, smirking at the sight of his buddy in his beautiful shirt and tie with nothing below the waist. No one in his meeting could possibly know that their colleague’s cock was out under his laptop. It was so hot to look at. While CJ talked about God knows what - ‘structures’ kept being mentioned - Pierce was touching himself under the covers, and then when he got too hot, he kicked them off and beat off in full view of his friend. CJ didn’t look up, but a broad smirk made its way across his face as he continued to stare at the screen, chiming in occasionally with forceful declarations about clients and deadlines. Pierce stared at his bro, turned on by CJ’s big chest straining against his shirt, nipples protruding, deep voice rumbling out with such confidence, and a big cock lying dormant between his legs, the tip draping over the seat. When CJ cocked an eyebrow at a statement he didn’t agree with, Pierce came all over himself, coating his abs and pecs with sperm as he roiled in his sheets.
CJ extended his arm to his side, out of view of his camera, and gave a thumbs up. Pierce returned the gesture then fell back to sleep for thirty minutes.
“Babe. Pierce.”
Pierce opened his eyes to find CJ’s face an inch from his. “Hi,” he croaked.
“Sorry about that.”
“Mm? Oh...it’s fine. I guess I should-” He stopped talking to yawn, before continuing. “-should apologize to you, too.”
“What, for the show? That was the highlight of the meeting.”
“Just seeing you in that shirt and tie...fuck, you look so hot.” Pierce reached out and ran his fingers over the silk necktie hanging between CJ’s pecs. “That’s not gay, is it?”
“Of course not,” CJ smiled.
“I’ve just never seen you dressed up before. You look so fuckin’ handsome.”
“I wear suits to work every day, what are you even talking about?” CJ smiled. He reached up and loosened the tie, popping his collar open to flex his muscled neck.
“Oh...right...your job…” Pierce blinked and rolled fully onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. “What do you do again?”
“I’m an architect. Jesus, babe, are you still asleep?”
“Architect...right...no, I’m good, I’m good.” Pierce rolled onto his feet and grinned when CJ slapped his bare ass. “How was your meeting?” he asked as he trudged into the bathroom.
“Fine. Boring. But this has been a stressful project, so boring is an improvement, honestly.”
“You called yourself Charles,” Pierce called out as he washed his face. “That threw me.”
“Why? It’s my name.”
“I always forget that. You’re just Ceej to me.”
“You’re just about the only person who can call me that anymore,” Charles laughed. He slid his tie off and undid the top two buttons of his shirt.
“Is the J for Junior?”
“You really need some breakfast, babe. The J’s for John, you know that. I’m named after my grandfathers.”
“Charles John Miller.” Pierce sang it to a little melody. “Now that’s a man’s name.”
“It, uh, sure is?” Charles appeared in the bathroom doorway, looking bemused. He’d put on a pair of plaid trousers and tucked his shirt in. “What is with you today?”
“Nothin’.” Pierce stood and faced Charles stark naked.
“God, look at your body.” Charles reached out and groped the slabs of meat on Pierce’s chest.
“Look at YOURS, man. Those clothes just make you even hotter.” Pierce ran his hands over Charles’ broad shoulders and gave the big delts a squeeze.
“I hate to say this, but get some clothes on. We should get breakfast before they close.”
“What should I wear?” Pierce asked, flipping open the third button on Charles’ shirt as he walked by.
“You look good in everything. Just show off those muscles.”
Pierce selected a bright pink dress shirt and buttoned it halfway up. It fit him like a second skin, to the point of his veins showing through the sleeves. “It’s not gay to wear pink, is it?” he asked, as he squeezed his legs into a pair of cellophane-tight white pants and tucked his shirt in.
“Of course not. Lots of bros wear pink. And look how much chest it shows.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?”
“No such thing.” Charles stepped forward and slid his hand inside Pierce’s shirt, groping the exposed pec. “God, I love touching these.”
“You’re getting so stubbly,” Pierce said, reciprocating the touch by stroking Charles’ face. “Are you growing a beard?”
“Thinking about it.” Charles smiled as Pierce scratched his whiskers.
“The guys in the frat would freak out if you came back with a beard. They’d be so jealous.”
“Right…the frat...” Charles slid his hands up to Pierce’s neck, fixed his collar, then ran his fingers across Pierce’s shoulders and down his arms before grabbing his hands. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too.” After a quick check for their room keys, they were out the door.
The elevator ride came with companions this time around. An older man in a baseball cap said “wowza” as Charles and Pierce stepped on. “You two bodybuilders?”
“Trying to be, sir,” Pierce said proudly.
“Well, I’d say you’re succeeding. How much you gotta eat to get a body like that?” The man’s wife swatted his arm and shot him a look, and he said to her, “What? It’s a real question!”
“It isn’t so much how much you eat as what and when,” Charles said. “Meal timing, and eating healthy.”
“Dating each other must make it easier, to have your partner eat the same way,” the wife observed.
“Oh, no, we’re not gay,” Pierce said. “Just buddies.”
“Oh!” she responded as her cheeks turned red. “I just thought…well, I...” She trailed off, flustered, and Charles and Pierce didn’t have a chance to respond before the elevator stopped and the couple got off.
“Maybe we shouldn’t hold hands so much,” Pierce grumbled.
“Don’t be like that. We should be proud. Everyone should be able to hold hands with whoever they want.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Pierce looked over at Charles and smiled. “Wow, your stubble is growing in fast.”
“Is it?” Charles reached up and stroked his chin. “You’re right, it does feel fuller. It look good?”
“Of course it looks good, it’s you. You always look amazing.”
“Thanks, babe.”
They sat across from each other at a small table, plates piled high with eggs and meat that they shovelled into their mouths. The button at the base of Pierce’s chest snapped off first, but Charles’ followed soon after, as their shirts continued to lose the battle of containing all the muscle mass they were packing on.
“We’re doing fancy dinner here tonight, right?” Pierce asked between mouthfuls of egg whites.
“I think we should. It’ll be a nice way to unwind after a long, stressful day of drinking cocktails on the beach.”
“I’m gonna have the beach nap and it’s gonna be so fucking great,” Pierce said. Charles looked at him, so he explained, “You know, the beach nap, when you’ve been outside in the sun for hours on the sand, then you go inside and you sleep for an hour on a comfy mattress, and you’re a little tipsy...the beach nap. It’s THE best nap.”
“Dibs on spooning with you.”
“Totally, bro.” Pierce smiled wickedly. “Even if you just want more excuses to grope my tits.”
“Literally any excuse,” Charles grinned back.
--------
“Hey, babe, try your key,” Charles said with a furrowed brow as their room’s lock flashed red for the third time. “Mine isn’t working.”
“Weird,” Pierce said, retrieving his key from his back pocket. He pressed the card against the door, and once again, the light flashed red. “Man, we’re gonna have to go down to the lobby, and my shirt won’t close.”
“As if that bothers you, you exhibitionist. You didn’t grow those muscles to just hide them.” Charles squeezed Pierce’s bicep as they walked back to the elevator. “I wonder why the lock isn’t working.”
“I don’t know, but don’t stress,” Pierce said, stroking Charles’ forearm. “We’re on vacation.”
“I’m not stressed, I’m fine.” Charles leaned his head on Pierce’s shoulder as the elevator descended. “I promise.”
“Hey, look,” Pierce said as they walked toward the front desk. “It’s the hot guy who checked us in.”
“He’s such a stud,” Charles agreed, before adding with a hint of pride, “Not as big as we are, though.” He pulled his shirt further open as they got to the counter.
“Hi there, the keys to our room have both stopped working,” Pierce said, sliding his keycard across the marble desk. “Could you reprogram them for us?”
The handsome employee’s brow furrowed, and he tossed a lock of blond hair out of his vision. “How strange,” he said, taking the key. “I’ll certainly look at this. Pierce Smith, correct?”
“That’s right,” Pierce smiled. “I’m impressed.”
“Hard to forget a man who looks like you,” the clerk smiled back as he typed.
Charles put his arm tightly around Pierce’s waist, then dug his fingers into Pierce’s ribs when Pierce said to the clerk, “I remember you too - ow!”
“Ahhh, that’s why your keys weren’t working. We upgraded you to the Wedding Suite as a surprise and a thank you for being such wonderful guests. Your bags were moved already. I’m sorry this wasn’t communicated to you, that’s our error.”
Pierce started to say, “But we’re not getting ma-” before Charles cut him off.
“The Wedding Suite! Amazing!” Charles said, taking the keys. “Thank you so much!” He slid his hand into Pierce’s and pulled him away from the desk.
“Babe, they think we’re getting married,” Pierce protested as he was pulled onto the elevator.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Charles said as he hit the top button on the elevator. “We just got a free upgrade to the nicest room here. Let them think we’re two gay guys getting married if that’s what it gets us.”
“Isn’t that a weird thought?” Pierce chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “Imagine, us being gay.”
“Imagine us being married to each other. We’d be the worst couple.”
“The frat would freak,” Pierce agreed as the doors opened to the top floor. He and Charles walked hand-in-hand down the hall, arriving at the double doors of the Wedding Suite. “What if he was joking downstairs,” Pierce wondered aloud, but the scan of his card resulted in a green light. The door opened.
“Holy shit.”
It was like stepping into the ground floor of a beach mansion. Opulence surrounded them. They’d never seen a hotel room close to it, especially because it was multiple rooms. There was a living room with plush white furniture and a fireplace, a bedroom with a massive California King bed, a full kitchen, two bathrooms, and a dining room. Contemporary art hung on every wall.
“Babe, look! A piano!” Pierce walked over to the instrument, a white grand, and sat down on the bench.
“Play me something,” Charles said, resting his hands on Pierce’s shoulders.
“I barely know Chopsticks.” Pierce plonked out a melody. “Well, there’s...I do remember a couple songs.” He ran his fingers up and down the keys in a quick scale, then, after a moment of thinking, said, “I know you like this one,” and tore into Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. Pierce rocked back and forth as he played, focused entirely on the performance of the song; his eyes were nearly shut as he hunched over the keys. They only opened when he felt a pull on his fly, and looked down to see Charles on his knees under the piano.
Pierce didn’t stop playing, but he released the pedal in surprise and lessened the volume of the tune. “What’re you--” he started to say, but he went speechless as he felt Charles’ strong fingers on his penis. It stiffened as Charles kissed the inside of his thighs, making his way to the tip of the dick, which he licked before stuffing into his mouth.
Pierce’s whole body jolted in shock. His fingers flew off the keys, and his back arched. A button over his abs snapped off his shirt and skittered across the piano. “Babe-” he said, but his mouth went dry, and he pushed his hips forward on the bench as his cock went down Charles’ throat. “UNNGH…” Charles’ head bobbed in rhythm with Pierce’s thrusts. Pierce ran his hands through Charles’ thick hair, gently guiding Charles’ head deeper onto his dick as he moaned gratefully. Sweat soaked his shirt and skewed the pink closer to red, but it lightened again as the fabric stretched tighter over his massive frame. The seams strained for all their might, but one big buck popped the last button, and after that it was a losing battle.
RRRRIIIIPPPPP
The fabric tore straight down Pierce’s spine as his lats and shoulders spread as wide as the piano bench, allowing a waterfall of sweat to pour down him and drip onto the floor. Below his belt, the seat of his pants split too, already-big ass swelling into a pair of thick globes that swelled out straight from his chiseled waist. Lost in ecstasy, the big bodybuilder threw his hands up to his face, sleeves shredding as his arms pulsed with growth and his palms widened to span octaves effortlessly. Longer, thicker fingers pushed sweat out of his eyes then ran down over his torso, groping his chest muscles as they lurched forward to harden into a powerful shelf. Once he reached his nipples, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“Babe I’m gonna…”
Charles didn’t stop. Pierce’s hips went double time - he moaned in complete rapture - and then he burst, nearly falling off the bench as Charles’ mouth filled up with his seed. His clothes split further as he came and flexed, muscles rippling across his huge frame. Pierce panted as he held onto the piano and eased himself off the bench and onto the floor. He lay on his back to catch his breath, but Charles crawled over and straddled him. The only sound in the room was their own breathless groans as Pierce ran his hands up over Charles’ body, fondling his friend’s crotch and caressing his abs. Charles bent down, his chest inches from Pierce’s face. He took a deep breath, flexed, and the buttons on his own shirt started to blow, allowing Pierce to kiss his bare pecs.
“Shirt’s really tight,” Charles grunted, rolling his shoulders forward and tearing the fabric in a T-shape over his hulking traps.
“I wanna see your beard,” Pierce moaned, so Charles bent down further and lay on top of his friend, allowing Pierce to work his fingers through the thick blond whiskers and up to the full head of shiny golden hair. “You have such an amazing beard,” Pierce whispered. Charles’ eyes were shut, allowing him to relish the touch; Pierce’s hands were so big and powerful, yet they could be as gentle as silk. Charles rolled his head forward and kissed Pierce’s palm. They looked at each other and smiled, dazedly, then Charles put his head on Pierce’s chest and they just lay there, breathing in rhythm. Every now and then, one of them would pull a scrap of ruined fabric off their bodies.
Five minutes passed. Fifteen, twenty. Finally, Charles got onto his feet, shaking off the rest of his clothes like a dog shaking off water. His nude form resembled the finest ancient sculptures. A bearded, muscled Hercules.
“I...blew you,” he said, wiping his mouth as he came to his senses. He extended a hand to Pierce and helped him up.
“Kinda gay,” Pierce smirked, rubbing his tired dick with one hand. “I mean, not for me. A mouth is a mouth. But for you…”
“I just saw you flirting with that guy at the desk and I got so jealous, I wanted you to know, y’know, that we’re bros...that I’m your best bro.”
“I know you are.” Pierce stroked Charles’ beard. “You don’t have to prove it. Don’t worry.” He took Charles’ face in his hands and held it. “Hey. Seriously. Don’t worry. We’re here to have fun. You’re my best friend.”
Charles’ expression lightened. “Thank you. Can we go swim, or something. I need a distraction.”
“Of course.”
They got into their swimsuits - bikini briefs that looked far smaller today, thanks to their big bubble butts and powerful thighs. The fabric was barely visible wedged up over all the muscle, and Charles’ exceptionally large member pushed the pouch of his suit down far enough to allow golden pubes to fluff out of the top. As he stood in the room waiting for Pierce and wondering if it was even acceptable for him to walk out of the room in such a state, he noticed a pamphlet on the dresser and opened it. “Hey, babe? What if we went to the spa instead? We have a free couples massage.”
“That actually sounds great,” Pierce said as he adjusted himself inside his tiny brief. “I’m so sore.”
“‘Cause you’ve been hitting the weights HARD, bro. God, these muscles…” Charles ran his hands over Pierce’s chest and arms, groping the bulging boulders.
“YOU don’t need to give me the massage, baby, they have people on staff for that,” Pierce teased, bouncing his pecs up and down.
“I know, it’s just…fuck, you’re getting so big. It’s so sexy. I swear every time I look at you, your muscles have grown.”
“I’ve been thinking the same about you,” Pierce said, taking Charles’ hand and holding it as they walked out of the room. “You look like Thor with that beard, but you’re getting way bigger than he is.”
“That just gave me a boner,” Charles smiled, proudly displaying the evidence as they walked onto the elevator. He let Pierce go first before following. They couldn’t walk through the doors at the same time anymore, nor could they stand shoulder to shoulder inside.
“You’re more handsome than Thor, too. He doesn’t look like a model like you. I can’t wait to see what you wear to dinner tonight. You’re gonna look so good.” Pierce ran his fingers back and forth over the curve of Charles’ tricep as he talked. He was fascinated by the shape and size of the muscle. “You’re such a man.”
“I don’t really think of myself that way,” Charles said. “I mean, I think of myself as a ‘dude’ or a ‘boy,’ not a…man. But I do like it. I want to be a man.”
“You don’t need to want it. You are.”
“So are you.” Charles moved his palm across Pierce’s thick chest. “Your pecs are kinda bristly, babe.”
“You’re so manly that being around you is literally putting hair on my chest,” Pierce joked as the elevator opened on the spa level.
A girl at the desk greeted them with an, “Oooh! Look at the happy couple! Here for your wedding package?”
Not wanting to give up a free massage, both Pierce and Charles nodded yes. “Isn’t he handsome? How lucky am I?” Charles added, laying it on thick.
“Oh my god, you both are,” the girl dished. “I wish straight men looked like you. All I find are guys who look like they hang out at bowling alleys.” She typed away on her keyboard. “We have two male masseuses but it’ll be about ten minutes until one of them is back from his break. I can put you in a private waiting room with a glass of champagne until then.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Pierce said, squeezing Charles’ big hand.
The private waiting room was cushy, with a flatscreen TV playing soothing spa music. Pierce and Charles slithered out of their briefs with no concern about being naked in front of each other. They didn’t even bother tying their fluffy robes shut, choosing instead to snuggle up on the couch with their cocks fully exposed.
“Mm, this is good,” Pierce said, sipping from his champagne flute.
“Yeah, not the cheap shit we used to drink in college,” Charles laughed. He leaned over and stroked Pierce’s cheek. “Your five o’clock shadow is really coming in. Growing a beard like me?”
“I don’t think so,” Pierce smiled, putting his hand over Charles’. “I just like the stubble look.”
“It’s so sexy on you. I love how hairy you are.”
“I’m not that…” Pierce looked down at the curls flourishing on his chest. “...well, I guess I am kinda hairy.”
“It’s hot. Show it off at dinner tonight.”
“If you insist, bro,” Pierce smirked, sipping his champagne.
They only cinched their robes closed when they were ushered to their massage tables, where two jacked men in white polo shirts waited for them. “Damn, you guys are BIG,” one of them said.
“Just trying to keep up with you, bro!” Pierce grinned, bouncing his pecs as he got on the massage table. The smile stayed on his face as he looked across at Charles. He extended his hand and Charles took it from the other table, their eyes as locked as their hands.
“You guys are a beautiful couple,” the other masseur said. “The whole staff is talking about the two handsome bodybuilders getting married.”
“Bodybuilders…” Pierce and Charles’ hands thickened in their grip. “We’re not bodybuilders.”
“You definitely are, even if you don’t do it professionally,” Charles’ masseur said as he worked the big man’s back. “What are your day jobs?”
“I’m an architect,” Charles said.
“I’m a concert pianist,” Pierce chimed in. A teasing tone crept into his voice as he added, “My man loves watching me play.” He smiled at the sight of the deep red hue filling Charles’ sculpted cheeks. “You are so beautiful,” Pierce murmured aloud without realizing, and Charles blushed even deeper.
The skilled hands of their masseuses ironed out the knots in their bulging muscles, goosing their shoulders even broader, their backs ever thicker. The sheets covering their nakedness rose higher as their glutes rounded and swelled. They stayed silent and peaceful aside from an occasional happy groan, drifting in and out of consciousness as they grew.
—-----
Charles stepped out of the shower and toweled off his hair as he listened to the sound of the piano wafting through the bathroom door. Pierce had to keep his wrists loose and fingers nimble, even on vacation, so he was tearing through small portions of music while he waited for Charles to finish getting ready.
Charles shook his thick hair out and put on his cologne. The scent perked him up a bit from his post-massage sleepiness, giving him a spring in his step as he padded across the large bathroom to the clothes Pierce - the flashier dresser - had picked out for him: a cream dress shirt with monochrome swirls of paisley hidden in the fabric, forest green trousers, and brown suede loafers. Charles held back a moan as he put the clothes on. The shirt’s pattern contorted as it pulled across his enormous musculature, and the pants actually fit his thighs, which was always an accomplishment. He walked out of the bathroom feeling like a supermodel.
Pierce stopped playing and stood up with a big grin on his face. “You look gorgeous,” he said.
But Charles didn’t respond. He just stared at Pierce, who finally asked, “What?”
“You’re…you look like a fairy tale prince.”
It wasn’t an incorrect assessment. Pierce’s thick black hair was immaculate, down to the lone curl draping over his forehead, leading Charles’ eye to a face straight out of a storybook. Pierce’s commanding features were enhanced by his light blue eyes, which burned like lasers out from beneath his chiseled brow. His teeth were white and perfect as he smiled and said, “I don’t think fairy tale princes dressed like this.”
“They would nowadays. Fuck, your chest.”
“Oh, you wanna?”
“Shut up, bro,” Charles grinned, running his big hands over Pierce’s absolutely gargantuan pecs, which were bulging out proudly into view. His pink silk shirt was only buttoned to his abdomen, showing off the boulder-like mass of his muscles and the virile sheen of his chest hair. Tight white pants clung to his rippling thighs, and Charles made a point of walking behind Pierce so he could see that huge round butt straining at its formal prison. He slapped it. “It’s a shame you have to sit on that cushion, because now I can’t look at it the whole night.”
“You’ll see it plenty. But I wanna see more of you, too.” Pierce turned around and opened two more buttons on Charles’ shirt, thumping his knuckle against the pecs like he was testing melons at the grocery store. “Ripe.”
“That’s me. A juicy peach.” Charles grabbed Pierce’s hand. “C’mon. I wanna show you off.”
—-----
The air in the hotel’s five-star restaurant seemed to change as the two towering hunks strode in. Conversations softened, gazes intensified. Everyone, male and female, kept stealing glances at the men’s exposed chests and handsome faces. Pierce and Charles, for their part, just stood tall, their muscles seeming to swell with pride. They clenched their chiseled jaws as heads turned their way on the walk to their table.
“I’m so glad we did this,” Charles said, running his thumb against Pierce’s hand as he held it across the table. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course, babe. I wouldn’t have brought anyone else.”
Their waiter, a red-headed bodybuilder whose white shirt was ready to burst off him, came and took their wine order. When he left, Pierce arched an eyebrow. “He was looking down our shirts.”
“Good. I want him to,” Charles smiled as he took a sip of water. “And who wouldn’t look down yours? Look at those, they’re masterpieces.”
Pierce fondled one of his pecs through his hot pink shirt. “I’m not bothered by it, I just think it’s funny. Have you noticed almost all the employees here are hot muscle gays? The desk guy, the masseuses, our waiter…”
“I like it. None of them are as hot as you, though. Or as big.”
“And I’m not as big as YOU!”
“You’re way bigger than me,” Charles said.
“No way bro, look at your arms. I can see your veins through your shirt, they’re like fucking garden hoses.”
“Yeah, well, I can see YOUR veins through your chest hair.”
“That means you’re looking.”
“Of course I’m looking. You’re unbelievable. Looking at you is one of my favorite things to do.” Charles smiled when he saw Pierce blush. Atop the table, their hands gripped tighter.
“Cheers,” Pierce said when their wine arrived. Their glasses made a crystal clink. “Um, to…us. To us.”
“To us,” Charles agreed.
The wine unfurled slowly over their palettes as they grazed on gem lettuce and scallop risotto, growing more delicious as the evening went on. Their huge bodies made their chairs look child-sized, and as they ate their entrees - ribeye for Charles, duck for Pierce - their muscles were engorged with pure protein, popping further out of their clothes. They each noticed the beads of sweat across the other’s brow, which they dabbed genteely away, but neither could see the erections straining underneath the napkins in their laps. As their testosterone-drenched bodies seemed to solidify and harden with each bite, the air at their table grew increasingly charged.
When Pierce’s nipples popped out of his skintight shirt, his gigantic pecs hurtling out like they were in a 3D movie, Charles helpfully reached across the table and pulled the hot pink fabric a few centimeters over to provide cover. Pierce smiled back in thanks as he felt himself growing harder under his own napkin.
The waiter appeared looking a little hot and bothered himself and, after clearing away some plates, asked if they wanted to add dessert. They said yes, with Charles selecting the raspberry sorbet and Pierce the tiramisu, but soon regretted it. The simple act of staring at each other across the table felt lewd, something too intense for public display. Pierce grabbed his water glass and chugged the whole thing, droplets spilling into his chest hair. “I’m gonna go get some air really quick,” he rasped, standing up and revealing a monster boner in his white pants.
Charles followed him, signaling to the waiter that they were just going to the balcony. He could feel everyone in the restaurant looking at him as he left.
The cool night air smelled of salt, a reminder of the ocean unseen in the darkness. Charles gulped it into his lungs, already feeling better just being outside. “Pierce?” he said, walking up to the hulking bodybuilder. “You good?”
Pierce stared at Charles for a moment, then suddenly grabbed his waist, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him hard.
Charles gasped in surprise, but soon melted into the embrace as Pierce fondled his huge muscles. They kissed passionately like two long-lost lovers reunited after years apart.
Charles reached up to caress Pierce’s sculpted jaw as he deepened the kiss, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues. The air around them was alive—as if they’d left Earth and were creating their own universe.
They broke only when neither could breathe anymore, giant chests slamming into each other as they gulped in air and stared at each other. “Upstairs,” Pierce said.
“Upstairs,” Charles agreed. Pierce grabbed his hand and dragged him back inside, through the restaurant, and toward the exit. “Put it on the room, please-” Charles said as they passed their waiter.
“Which room?!”
“Wedding Suite! Charles Miller-Smith!” They were the last words Charles got out before he was yanked into the elevator and had Pierce’s tongue shoved back down his throat.
They kissed with the frenetic energy of two high school boys but the passion and experience of the men they were, groaning into each other, hands roaming frantically. Pre-cum soaked their bulging briefs. Their hands went everywhere: chests, butts, necks. They were so caught up in each other that it took them a moment to realize the doors had opened on their floor. Charles was already unbuttoning his shirt while he was still in the hallway.
The door shut behind them and they went at each other with double the vigor, this time clawing at each other’s clothes and tearing them off while kissing every newly exposed body part. Skin met skin as their chests slammed together, Charles’s nipples rubbing against Pierce’s, their torsos lining up perfectly, abdomens moving in perfect rhythm. Charles reached down and grabbed Pierce’s cock, which sprang fully erect at his touch. He fondled it a few moments, then pushed him gently to the bed.
Pierce got on all fours, breathing excitedly, but Charles grabbed him and turned him around. “No,” Charles growled as he slammed Pierce’s back into the mattress. “I want to look at you.”
“Good,” Pierce purred, caressing Charles’ face and kissing every part of it. His head snapped back with a roar of passion as Charles thrust inside of him. “Ohh FUCK-”
“You like that? You like my huge cock?”
“Yes, FUCK! Oh FUCK-”
Charles thrust hard into Pierce’s tight ass, the force of it making Pierce’s body heave into the mattress. “More, baby?” Charles said, pulling Pierce’s hips back into him again, the bed creaking. “Tell me!”
“Yes! Ohh FUCK YES!” Pierce’s hands gripped the headboard, his massive pecs nearly smacking Charles in the face, nipples like bullets. Charles was in a state of total ecstasy as he fucked Pierce. The uncontrollable pleasure felt like it was going to set the room on fire. Pierce was one giant muscle, every bit of him swollen and pulsating with desire. As Charles slammed him again and again, Pierce’s moans grew louder, the veins in his neck pulsing, his back arching. Charles had never seen anything so hot. He grabbed Pierce’s head and kissed him wolfishly, pumping his hips into the colossal stud. The sheets ripped beneath them, turned to tissue from their sweat. Each minute felt like an hour.
“Oh fuck, that’s IT- OH FUCK-” Pierce’s voice had gone up an octave. He buried his head into Charles’ shoulder as the huge cock prodded his prostate. “I can’t-” Pierce gasped, “I can’t- hold it-”
Charles leaned down and whispered, “Cum for me.”
Pierce threw his head back and, with a final guttural groan, unloaded his balls. Cum pumped onto his abs and chest, soaking into the black hair adorning his torso. It shot onto Charles, too, who writhed with such joy that he finally achieved his own release into Pierce.
And then, like flipping a switch, exhaustion overcame them. Charles fell on top of Pierce, sandwiching their cum between their abs, and Pierce hugged him and kissed him as they rolled on the soaked sheets.
“I’m so tired…fuck…just a second…” Charles panted, and Pierce snuggled up to him as they both passed out.
—-----
They woke up at three in the morning to the sound of rain. Pierce stirred first, hopping up to shut a window they’d propped open. The sound of it closing awoke Charles.
Pierce flipped on a lamp and stood over the bed, then hesitantly got back in despite his nakedness. He stroked Charles’ beard, and finally wondered aloud: “What…did we do?”
“We…I…I fucked you,” Charles said back, his brown eyes wide and unsure. “It felt…like a dream, but it was. I just felt– things feel different…”
“Yeah, we weren’t always like this, were we? These bodies…” Pierce moved a hand down to Charles’ chest. “My god, these BODIES. And what we just did, oh my god, we…we fucked-”
“Pierce-”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Pierce said, looking away. “Nobody has to know. I mean, if we don’t want them to know.”
“But that’s the thing,” Charles said, the intensity of his voice making them both sit up. “I want…I…I want everybody to know.” He paused and looked at Pierce’s blue eyes, which were getting bigger by the second. “I want everybody to know that I fucked you, and that I loved it, and that you loved it, and I want everybody to know how amazing you are - I want to stand up in front of the whole world and tell them that Pierce Alexander Smith is the best man I’ve ever met, and that he makes me want to be a better man too, and that every moment I spend with him feels like the happiest moment of my life because I lo-” He cut himself off, realizing the gravity of what he was saying. Then he plowed ahead. “Because I love…I love him. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Pierce whispered. He held Charles’ face in his hands.
Their foreheads touched together as they soaked in the silence, letting the words settle like the foundation of a home. It was a love that frightened them with its intensity, nothing they’d ever experienced before. It was ingrained within them and embossed on their hearts.
Slowly, their mouths fell together, breaths connecting and bodies intertwining as they fell back against the pillows. They felt pure bliss as they held each other.
“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I’ll protect you.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
The words spilled out of them until there was nothing left to say. They wiped the tears off each other’s faces, kissing every feature as they did so, and fell into blissful sleep.
—-----
Charles woke up with a pillow in his arms instead of a body. He rolled over. “Pierce?”
“No, don’t look!” A huge blur of black and white shot out of view toward the bathroom.
“Whuh?” Charles rolled out of bed and followed. “What’re you doing?”
The bathroom door wasn’t fully shut, but Pierce positioned himself behind it. “I was trying on…nothing, it’s - you’re not supposed to see me in it before the wedding!”
“Wedding?”
There was a moment of silence before Pierce’s beautiful face poked out from behind the door. “We’re getting married today, bro.”
“Are we?” Charles rubbed his eyes and smoothed down his sleep-addled whiskers. “You haven’t even asked me.”
“Oh.” Pierce opened the door. He’d taken off the jacket, but was otherwise in a full tuxedo that fit his gargantuan form like a slipper. The shirt hung open to his navel, exposing the hairy chest that made Charles start salivating instantly. “Back up,” Pierce said.
Charles did, walking backward into the suite’s living room. And then, to his shock, Pierce got down on one knee and produced a box from his pocket.
“Will you marry me?”
“Wha- I- where did you-” Charles sputtered, water springing to his eyes. He looked at Pierce’s ravishing beauty, Prince Charming crossed with Mr. Olympia, with thick dark hair and kind blue eyes and those muscles that he wanted enveloping him forever. “Yes of course, oh my god, yes! Of course!”
Pierce leaned forward and mimed putting the ring on Charles’ dick, which was the same moment it dawned on Charles that he was stark naked. “Oh no, you’re too big for it,” Pierce grinned.
“It’s our wedding band anyway. Save it for the ceremony. I don’t need a ring.” Charles bent down and kissed Pierce, holding his fiance’s chiseled jaw in his palm. “Minty.”
“A wise man always brushes his teeth before he proposes.”
“I can’t wait to marry you. I’m so glad it’s today. I couldn’t wait another day.”
“I can’t wait for all of it,” Pierce said between kisses. He gently ran his hands over Charles’ massive shoulders. “I even can’t wait to go gray with you. I wanna see you holding our grandbabies.”
“You’re gonna look so hot as a daddy,” Charles smiled. “I can’t wait to get you out of that tux. But I love looking at you in it, too.” He got up on the bed and began stroking himself as he stared at his husband-to-be. “That shirt is so tight on you, even with all those buttons open…”
“That’s because I’m a big man,” Pierce said, flexing his chest as his fingers danced across it. “A big man who is all yours. Look at all this muscle. You like all this muscle?” The incredible physique sprang to life as he flexed like Atlas, bringing his biceps to attention in his sleeves, popping his granite tits right out of his shirt. “And I’m just gonna keep getting bigger and bigger…”
Charles blew all over himself, flopping back onto the bed with a contented sigh as his balls emptied their load all over his 8-pack. Pierce watched with a satisfied smile, then leaned down. “Now go clean yourself up, bro. We have a wedding to get to.”
—-----
“Are you ready?”
Pierce looked at Charles and squeezed his hand. They stood in the hotel’s airy atrium waiting for their entrance into the ceremony. “Of course.”
“There’s no going back. Everyone’s gonna know we’re gay now.”
“Like you said, I want everybody to know,” Pierce said. “I love being gay. I want to marry a man, and I want that man to be you. Your manliness is one of my favorite things about you.” Pierce slid his arm around Charles lower back and pulled him in, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re my favorite person. Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?”
“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Charles said, his voice full of wonder. “It’s so perfect. Something…happened to us, right?”
“Something wonderful. We met, and we fell in love, and now we’re getting married.”
“And while that was happening, we went from being boys who thought they were straight, to men who know exactly who they are.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty fuckin’ cool, bro,” Pierce said with a smirk, deepening his voice to impersonate a frat boy. The doors opened seconds later, and he snapped back to the elegant poise of a professional pianist as the friends and family gathered inside turned his way.
Their appearance drew gasps, a common occurrence for them. Nobody in attendance could take their eyes off the men in the tuxedos. Tailored fabric flowed over their flawless physiques like a river twisting its way past boulders and buttes. Bulging muscles rippled beneath hand-crafted silk. Charles had opted for a classic black tux reminiscent of Hollywood’s golden age. Pierce wore an opulent black-on-black floral number befitting of a modern-day prince. Their white tuxedo shirts were open to their chests, pleats ruffling out between their lapels, offering a small glimpse at even more beauty beneath the formalwear. Nothing about them went unnoticed—not their broad shoulders, strong jaws, and gentle smiles as they looked into each other’s eyes throughout the ceremony. They were a vision of masculinity incarnate—the perfect picture of two men ready to conquer life together.
The next fifteen minutes were a blur. They stood and faced each other, holding hands to hide the trembling. They said vows and managed not to cry.
“I love every moment I spend with you. I can’t wait for a million more with you.”
“When I’m with you, I know everything will be alright.”
And then, at the officiant’s cue, they kissed. It made for quite a sight, the two massive bodybuilders kissing tenderly with their big chests pressed against each other. It was no wonder everyone viewing cheered and applauded, drowning out the words that Pierce and Charles whispered to each other:
Back, back, back again! Big departure for me, himbos! And another big departure, gay sex! So beware. Please enjoy!
And remember, comments and likes are always appreciated!
*****
“Where the hell is Sit-guess?”
“Spain. Barcelona.”
“How do you know that?”
“It says so on his post.”
“Oh.” Amir and Neil continued scrolling through their phones.
“Well, it looks like he’s having fun!” Amir joked to an apoplectic Neil.
“In a speedo,” Neil shook his head in jealousy poorly masked as disgust.
“I mean, look at that body.”
“Yeah, but like, he didn’t used to look like that,” Neil stumbled over his words in his ill-contained anger.
“He didn’t dye his hair blonde either, but people can look how they want,” Amir replied with a shrug, trying to diffuse Neil.
“I swear he used to mock those K-pop dudes who dyed their hair.” Neil continued his tirade as Amir rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“And now he did it. Neil, calm the fuck down. Jae-sung can look how he wants to look, act how he wants to act, date who he…” Neil cut him off.
“I’m not jealous of his boyfriend.”
“Really? Cause, you were when we met him-” Neil interrupted the teasing, louder this time.
“And it’s Jai now, according to Instagram. J-A-I.”
“Eww,” Amir laughed and kept scrolling. “Pretty trips.”
“Another beautiful day at the beach with Radden. Life is an adventure and I’m so glad to grab it. Hashtag gay boy. Hashtag beach. Hashtag beach life. Hashtag gay. Hashtag muscle. Hashtag speedo. Hashtag-” this time Amir cut him off.
“I get it Neil, Jae-”
“With an I,” Neil chipped in quickly.
“With an I,” Amir rolled his eyes to pure white as he repeated dramatically. “Is living life as a boytoy and not returning our texts anymore. Ever since he got a new boyfriend.”
“Sugar daddy.”
“Whatever, I’m not interested in the merits of their relationship. I am interested in how he got that body. Rockin’.” Amir said while unconsciously rubbing his belly. He was the fat one of their little gayboy squad. Jae-sung had looked like a weightless twink while Neil at least lifted weights regularly. None of them was likely to catch eyes in a crowd, assuming anyone saw them at all. Mostly due to them all being short guys, Amir being the tallest at 5’6” and three quarters. It was what first bonded them together.
“PEDs, roids, illegal injections,” Neil flippantly replied. Amir choked back the desire to throttle Neil. He’d always been the jealous type, and until six months ago when Jae-sung disappeared off the face of the earth, the hot one in their little gay trio. And the snub from Jae-sung stung worse once they stumbled across his new instagram filled with luscious trips, hot men, and a head to toe makeover turning twinkish Jae into muscled, blond stud Jai.
“Holy shit! New post!”
“So?”
“What do you think, instafans? Always wanted to get my eyes done and @RadXZaddy paid for it. Loving the new me!” Neil read aloud as Amir refreshed.
“What happened to his eyes?”
“He got that fucking eye lid surgery. The one he always called ‘anti-chi-’,” Neil coughed in place of finishing the word. Amir stared at the image long and hard. Was it true, did he really get the surgery? Jae-sung had bitched about stuff like that a lot. Maybe he was misdirecting? Or maybe it was something else.
“It’s that fucking boyfriend,” Neil said as though reading his mind. “All of this! He looks like some fucking doll practically now.”
“I mean,” Amir spoke slowly. “He’s an adult.”
“Look, this guy is clearly doing something to him. This can’t be a healthy relationship.”
“Let’s say I agree,” Amir tentatively began. “What do you want to do? DM him? I don’t think he’ll reply. I mean, he’s got a lot of followers who I bet send messages. And he hasn’t returned our texts.”
“They’re going to Balmora’s for brunch Sunday,” Neil said triumphantly.
“What?”
“In the comments, someone asked if they were going to be at some party, but he told them they were back here and had reservations at Balmora’s. Which does not require reservations, but apparently he has gone full insta-shallow.”
“So, are we gonna go to Bals for brunch?”
“I just made a reservation,” Neil cheered triumphantly. Amir almost chimed in reminding him that you didn’t need a reservation for brunch at Balmora’s but decided to not push things.
“What time are they going?”
“I don’t know,” Neil shrugged.
“What time are we going?”
“At opening, and we’ll drink until they arrive. I asked for a table by the gate so we’ll see them come in.”
“This feels kind of icky,” Amir sighed.
“Our friend has apparently fallen under the sway of some fetishy muscle daddy. We’d be bad friends if we didn't intervene. And they have bottomless mimosas.”
“It’s a date,” Neil’s eyes never left the phone so he didn’t see the concern on Amir’s face.
-----
They pair arrived at Balmora’s when it opened. Their waiter was visibly annoyed when they said they were meeting friends who were always late and they’d be waiting to order until they got here. He huffed off as the pair watched him leave.
“He’s cute,” Amir said while sipping on a mimosa.
“I think we fucked,” Neil scrunched his face and stared into the sky as he tried to remember.
“I love how you act like any remotely attractive guy we meet has had sex with you,” Amir admonished.
“What? I’m being serious!”
“Sure thing Neil, I’ve known you for ten years. Your sexploits don’t fool me.” They clinked their glasses together and started chatting about other topics while keeping their eyes firmly on the gate. Their flippant waiter brought carafe after carafe of mimosa as the pair drank away the time. Finally, their quarry arrived.
Radden and Jai rolled in like a pair of movie stars. Radden’s big and powerful legs caused him to strut suggestively, an oversized package in the front bouncy playfully in his tight khakis. He wore a shiny oxford shirt buttoned halfway, leaving his smoothed bronzed pecs well on display. Jai followed a step behind, rolling his hips in a strange, mincing way. He had silver cowboy boots with an oversized heel, shiny white jeggings, and a pink crop top that hid the tits but exaggerated his ripped abs and tiny waist. Both of them had several bracelets and rings on and expensive sunglasses covering their eyes. Amir and Neil stared in shock for a moment, instagram was one thing but seeing it in person was still shocking. Neil recovered quickly and stood up.
“Oh my god, Jai!” He dragged himself up and grabbed his ex-friend into a tight hug. Jai squirmed a bit before hesitantly hugging in return.
“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Amir joined in, genuinely happy to see his friend. “How have you been?”
“Oh umm, hi, girls,” Jai’s voice had a small affectation to it, a bit of high pitched squeak that reminded Amir of guys who watched too much Drag Race.
“Are you having brunch? Are you meeting people? We have seats at our table!” Neil rambled quickly. Jai seemed completely overwhelmed. A throat clear behind the boys silenced everyone.
“Jai, babe, who are these boys?”
“Oh my gawd, this is my boyfriend, Radden,” Jai introduced the older and much taller hunk with the lustful adoration of a first kiss.
“Yeah, we’ve met,” Amir smiled and waved slightly.
“And we haven’t seen you since,” Neil poked his finger into Jai’s hard pec, and then did it again and again. “Those are nice tits, Jai,” Neil admired openly. Jai perked up and puffed them out proudly.
“Well, we should eat with your friends!” Radden smiled with overly bright veneers.
“Uh, okay,” Jai sort of stuttered. “But like, I didn’t know if you wanted to.”
“I have been hogging you, Jai. I’m sure your friends want to catch up!” He sat down cheerfully and took a swig from the latest mimosa carafe. “I told him he needs to keep in touch with his friends. But young guys get so caught up in relationships. Not that I mind having him all to myself. But everyone needs some girlfriends.” Neil and Amir glanced at each other curiously.
“Wait really? Jai, did you just blow us off?” Neil frowned. Jai kind of stuttered for a bit, flitting his hands in the air.
“Okay, like, I’m sorry I got obsessed with my hot daddy boyfriend.” Even with the sunglasses on, the boys could feel the eye roll underneath. “I felt bad at first, but we were taking trips and he hired me a personal trainer and a nutritionist…”
“You hired them?” Neil questioned Radden.
“After he asked,” Radden continued drinking straight from the carafe, his eyes scanning the restaurant for a waiter.
“Yeah!” Jai indignantly replied. “We were going to hot parties and cool beaches. I didn’t wanna be the ugly guy. And then I figured you guys would be judgmental about it that I didn’t wanna tell you.”
“Just so we’re clearing the air,” Amir stepped in. “You did all of… this,” he waved his hands in the air around Jai. “Because you wanted to be hot? Mission successful.” Jai giggled.
“And you didn’t want this,” Neil grabbed the carafe out of Radden’s hands to refill his own beverage.
“I liked him before, I like him now. I mean, I’ll admit, you are fucking sexy as shit now,” he rubbed his hands lecherously on Jai’s crotch. “But mostly, I just like Jai either way.”
After a moment of silence at the table, Radden spoke again. “So, we relieved you of your concerns? You weren’t very subtle about it. Not that the booze probably helped.” Amir and Neil blushed intensely and looked down. “I, personally, think it’s very good that Jai has such devoted friends. And I look forward to getting to know you both!” He finally flagged down a waiter and ordered more carafes in addition to shots. Jai, Neil, and Amir passed around a set of sheepish apologies.
-----
One month, several parties, two weeks attending exercise classes, and one shopping trip later, Neil and Amir found themselves climbing the steps to a private jet to join Radden and Jai on a fabulous holiday. Radden invited them to some island resort across the Pacific, and the boys never even considered saying no. Sure, the past month has been kind of odd. Jai wasn’t acting for Instagram– in real life he’d seemingly embraced being hot and shallow and catty. It caused a change in the friend group dynamic; Neil and Amir were suddenly demoted to Jai’s entourage instead of being an equal part of the trio. But on the other hand, they were dragging new suitcases filled with new clothing onto a private jet.
Neil and Amir oohed and aahed over the luxury of the plane, while Jai lectured them on the differences between PJs (private jets) and his newfound preferences among them. For his part, Radden seemed content to enjoy an herbal cocktail and admire the boys. Amir noticed he did a lot of that, just kind of looked at them. Lots of people looked at Jai– that came with hotness. But Radden gazed with more intensity, the primal energy of a seasoned hunter measuring prey. Still, he had been nothing but kind and pleasant and Amir liked him quite a bit. Aside from the obvious physical differences, Jai seemed very happy and well treated and you couldn’t want a lot more for a friend.
Radden disappeared at the start of the flight. The others didn’t even notice as they were already popping champagne and talking vapidly about things they’d seen on social media. The booze flowed as they gossiped about everything. Eventually, both Jai and Neil decided to get some shut eye, leaving a wide awake Amir extremely bored before Radden reappeared.
“So what exactly do you do, like for work?” Amir, slightly drunk and flushed, saddled up next to Radden. He laughed in response.
“I’m a trust fund baby!” He offered a toast from his champagne and brayed louder. “I mean, my family owns several businesses. Lots of luxury resorts actually.”
“Like White Lotus places?” Radden laughed again.
“I guess so. They tend to be, no offense, places normal people never hear of.”
“None taken.”
“You’re pretty easy going. I like that,” Radden reached out and brushed Amir’s cheek, who giggled and blushed in response. Radden exuded charm and charisma on a celestial level. “I seem to have won over Neil, too.”
“Oh, he has a crush on you,” Amir blurted out.
“Really?” Radden cocked his eyebrows in lurid interest.
“Did, I should say,” Amir backpedaled quickly. “You don’t remember it, but the night you met Jai, you met us too. And Neil hit on you pretty hard. And you turned him down.” Both men giggled. They continued having their pleasant conversation, though Amir couldn’t help but notice that Radden’s eyes kept drifting to Neil. Amir hoped he wasn’t going to say anything. He’d just put his friend group back together and didn't need it falling apart again.
“You should get some rest, darling,” Radden rubbed Amir’s shoulder tenderly. Amir bit his lip and blushed more. “Might as well take advantage of all the luxuries on board!”
-----
The four of them made for a strange pairing. Neil and Amir were dressed in cute pastel shorts and t-shirts that could come from any of a dozen stores or brands. Radden wore sharkskin trousers with a pleat as sharp as the namesake’s tooth. A linen button down with one hole buttoned in the middle, the fabric flowing around him like Fabio in a wind machine, covered his chest. Jai’s hot pink button down shirt tucked into white shorts. The orange hue of his skin made the pink seem to glow on him. The lobby was open air and spacious with gorgeous employees in white trousers and shirts helping guests. Gigantic marble pillars and floors, all in white, gave the space a heavenly look. A piano tucked in one corner belted soft melodies from its tuxedoed player. Jai dragged the boys along, their mouths agape at the divine monstrosity. Radden was already headed towards check in.
The man behind the desk glowed unnaturally, white teeth and painted skin ripped with muscles underneath his staff polo. Radden turned to the others.
“You boys give me your passports and head up to the room,” he offered Jai some woven bracelets that were apparently room keys. They slipped them on without thought. “I’ll check us in.” Neil immediately pulled his passport out and handed it over, but Amir hesitated.
“Should… is it okay to just give you our passports? And you already have a room key?” Radden shrugged.
“Yes, perks of money. And they have to scan them for check in. It’s totally normal, promise!” He flashed that award winning smile and Amir’s resistance melted away as he handed his little blue folder over. “It’s top floor, Jai, obviously. You boys freshen up!” He sauntered up the counter with a spring in his step, and all three of the boys watched his muscled ass shake from side to side in the tight pants.
“God, I wanna fuck him,” Neil didn’t even bother hiding his desire. Amir tried to shush him but Jai was already replying.
“He only tops.”
“So much for you being verse,” Neil snickered.
“He’s got a hot cock,” Jai crudely replied. “And I’ve always loved sucking dick.” Amir nodded along as they ambled to the elevator. At least that hadn’t changed. Jae-sung had always been the kind of guy who’d suck off a stranger in a bathroom for the thrill of it.
The top floor was one giant suite, balconies lining every side with windows overlooking a jungle paradise and pristine cabanas where gorgeous men paraded around in tiny swimsuits while being served by dutiful staff who were tanned and toned clearly on display. Jai took himself to the master suite, while the other two slummed in smaller, though still luxurious rooms, to the side. They shared a bathroom, and Neil almost immediately walked through to Amir’s side with a swimsuit in hand.
“Just straight to a swimming suit, eh?” Amir laughed as Neil dropped trou immediately, putting his pale buttocks on display as he pulled up a camo patterned, square-cut swimsuit. Neil had a nice body, not an excellent one, but nothing to sneeze at. He obsessed over the really fit guys, the ones with huge pecs that look unnaturally glued on. Neil took a few moments to pose in the mirror, restyling his hair (which was too short to really change) and assessing his physique.
Unconsciously, Amir reached down and tugged at the modest pudge around his waistline. He was the “fat” one of their trio: Neil muscular, Jai thin, Amir fat. Although in straight world he’d be unremarkable. Still, he was the one with the baggy trunks that came to mid thigh. Which was a shame, because if he had any trait that made men stare, it was his derriere. Voluptuous, almost feminine in its curves, but distinctly masculine in muscularity. Amir wanted to look better, he always imagined what he’d look like with a trim waist to really set off his ass but he’d never really found the motivation to get there. Probably the same lack of motivation that kept Neil thinner than he wanted.
“Hey dolls,” the whimpery voice of Jai snapped him back to reality. Jai, formerly thin, was now ripped and toned and his body painted in iridescent orange that made it all pop just so. He blew a kiss in the air, which Amir thought was meant for him but then he realized he was standing in front of the mirror.
“Cute suit,” Neil commented with uncontained envy. Jai was in a hot pink speedo that rode high on his hips, sinking in the deep cuts of his Apollo's belt and clinging to his body like it was already wet.
“Jealousy’s an ugly color, Neil,” Jai quipped confrontationally. “Kind of like that suit. Kidding!” He offered the last word like a bitchy teenager who’d just been called out. Neil replied with a middle finger as he sucked his gut in even more.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Amir asked, hoping to break the tension.
“Party? Relax. Drink.” Jai said all the words dully, as if reading off a teleprompter.
“Where?”
“I dunno, around the pool probs. That’s usually where the hotties hang during the day. There'll be parties and clubs at night.”
“You’ve been here before?” Neil asked, clenching his abs as hard as possible to his red faced reflection.
“Here here? No, but these places are all pretty similar. Spa, gym, pool, second pool, hot tubs, clubs, restaurants. It’s all about mixing and mingling.” Amir changed into his black suit and pulled on a loose fitting top that hid his arms. Not from embarrassment but from the sun. Neil finished dressing himself with a tank top.
“Wanna look around?” Amir offered.
“You guys take a walk. I’m gonna wait for Radden.”
“Where is he? Checking us in couldn’t take that long.”
“Oh, he’s probably flirting with a manager or booking appointments. He loves a spa day.” Jai spent several minutes discussing the multitude of expensive spa time he’d experienced over the past few months, including the lurid detail that Radden always wanted a blowjob afterwards. Amir had never minded the sex talk; it was pretty normal among homos. But the way Jai described it always felt kind of… icky. Very Radden centric. Radden wants a blowjob. Radden only tops.
The pair left to explore, Neil started complaining about Radden and Jai, but Amir distracted him with the buildings, pools, clubs, and every hot man they walked past. Radden had said this was a gay resort, but Amir hadn’t expected it to be entirely men top to bottom. Every employee was a work of art. The guests ranged from ultra mega hot to merely passable, but they all exuded a level of wealth he couldn’t really begin to comprehend.
They went into a shop that sold nothing but tiny swim briefs in a variety of colors and patterns. Amir found some that look suspiciously similar to the one Jai was wearing, in a range of neon colors ordered like a pride flag. He tried to show Neil but found him outside the store.
“Goddam, look at those!” Neil’s voice rang green with envy for all to hear. He was slack jawed, staring at a dark-skinned (though Amir had no idea how natural the color was) man in an orange swim brief that made his dick look terrifyingly massive. But Neil hadn’t even noticed that. Instead, his eyes were fixated on a pair of thick juicy pecs that rose like dough from his chest, pushing out wide and broad, forcing the nipples down, almost underneath the curve of the muscle. They were so prominent and hard, Amir felt certain he could probably balance a drink on them.
“You should probably stop staring.”
“I wanna touch ‘em.” Neil gasped. “I wanna grab ‘em and lick ‘em and ugh. Ugh. I want to have a pair on me!” He grabbed his own, not unnoticeable chest, like a pair of breasts and shook them for an imaginary audience. Then he deflated visibly.
“I’m sorry Neil,” Amir didn’t really know what to say.
“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m being dramatic.”
“And jealous.”
“Is it obvious?” Amir burst out laughing despite Neil’s seriousness. He silenced himself and offered a quick apology.
“But yes, it is obvious.”
After a few more minutes of walking and admiring the resort and the men, Neil finally spoke up again. “I want a body like that.”
“Well, ask Jai. Or hell, ask Radden since he’s probably the one who knows how to get it.” He wasn’t sure how old Radden was, but he was definitely hot.
“Is that weird?”
“He paid for us to come to an expensive resort for two weeks. I don’t think anything is weird at this point.”
“Why did we agree to come to a strange resort with our friend's new boyfriend?” Neil asked suddenly, giggling and shaking his head.
“Because we wanted to be featured on some murder mystery podcast?” Amir replied with a playful shrug.
—--
They didn’t see Jai or Radden until dinner. Their phones pinged with a dinner reservation notification that didn’t have an RSVP option. The place had several restaurants and this one overlooked the ocean with rattan furniture and excessive candlelight. Jai, dressed in a skintight, white shirt that looked like it chafed his nipples, offered droopy, drunken eyes and a giddy smile as they walked up. Radden also wore white, though his wasn’t spray painted on. He had a blush across his cheeks, likely from booze but seemed to carry himself better than Jai.
“Evening, dolls,” his silky voice greeted them calmly. He stood up and offered Neil a fake handshake before pulling him into a hug that pressed Neil’s face into his chest and then seated him next to himself. Amir was grateful to take the seat between his friends.
“We walked around. This place is gorgeous,” Amir answered when asked about their day.
“We went to the spa!” Jai burst out in rapturous giggles.
“Nothing better than a massage to start a trip,” Radden cocked a smirk at Jai as he spoke and Amir remembered Jai detailing Radden’s post massage routine. “Speaking of, I booked you two with some stuff for tomorrow.” He pointed quickly between Neil and Amir as he spoke. Radden reached over and tenderly rubbed Neil’s shoulders while devouring him with his eyes. Neil shyly looked away, but glanced back to see Radden glowering at him. The shoulder rubbing seemed to intensify.
Amir, eager for a distraction, chimed in. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to!” Radden insisted with almost childlike glee.
“What, uh,” Neil’s voice broke as Radden seemingly plunged his fingers into a knot deep within Neil. It took Neil several seconds to recover. “What did you book?”
“Massage. Facials. Is there something else you’d want?” Radden’s voice tried to play soft and coy, but there was always something slightly predatory about it. He punctuated his question by tapping Neil on the chest then rolling his finger in circles around his nipple. Neil gazed into Radden’s eyes like a starstruck superfan.
“Umm, I mean, I did wanna ask you… stuff,” Neil was never one to be shy or bashful. He’d never once stuttered when complaining or asking for a refund. But he was down bad for this hunk. Neil tried to turn his face away, but Radden slipped his hand under Neil’s chin and directed his face towards his own before leaning in so close they were almost kissing.
“And what’s that?” Neil flushed red and rolled his eyes like having an orgasm. Amir looked at Jai who seemed content just sort of staring off into the distance. He’d figured his new bitch personality would assert itself, but apparently he was the passive in all aspects of this relationship.
Neil seemed to hesitate before responding, or maybe it was just the orgasmic release he was experiencing from Radden’s hands. When he finally responded, it was a moany, breathy voice unlike his normal one. “W-workout tips? Like, how, how are you so hot?” Radden’s face lit up like a kid who got their birthday wish after blowing out the candles.
“Oh, I can definitely help with that! After dinner, I’ll take you down to the gym. Jai and I already did our workout today. But I can get you set up. You’ll be absolutely amazed what good nutrition and a trainer can do. You won’t believe how quickly it can work.”
The rest of the meal was less dramatic. Radden swapped between being kissing and controlling with Jai, ordering for him and chiding him for slouching, and then being weirdly physical with Neil, brushing him or touching him or just peering into his eyes with devoted passion.
Amir felt like he was watching it all from the outside, and he partially was. His presence at the table went almost entirely unnoticed unless he spoke up. He didn’t really mind. He’d enjoyed some cocktails throughout the day and the wine with dinner. By the end of the meal, he offered a quick goodbye as Radden directed Jai and Neil towards the gym, one arm hanging over the shoulder of each. Amir turned around after a few steps and watched as Radden shifted his hands to grope the cheek of each boy’s butt as they went.
It was weird. Really weird. The kind of weird that a less sleepy Amir might have thought about more. But right now, all he really wanted was to sleep off the travel and the booze and wake up tomorrow morning refreshed and ready.
—--
Amir had literally never felt so relaxed in his entire life. The massage removed tension he didn’t even know he had and the facial left him physically energized and on a strange emotional high. Everything just seemed really great!
He hung around the room afterwards, expecting Neil to show up from his sessions, but he never did. Eventually, he tired of waiting and slipped on his bathing suit to hit the pool. It was packed with well-to-do men with harsh six-packs, juicy pecs, and bubbly butts. Designer labels clung to their suits and shoes and sunglasses like branded grades on cattle.
This was not a place of modesty. Everyone else was wearing something tight and vibrant, usually a well cut speedo though a few did have short little legs on the sides, usually older gents. No one wore black. Except Amir, whose baggy, black swimsuit might have made him feel self-conscious if he wasn’t still high on post massage endorphins. Fortunately, he was still feeling delightfully relaxed and at ease and just in a generally pleasant mood.
He’d meant to bring a book or something to do, but instead found himself slurping down cocktails brought by attentive staff and just sort of staring at the hot men and the beautiful water. He should have been bored or restless, but anytime his mind started to wander it just fizzled out. This was good enough; being here was good enough. Being happy. His empty brained revelry ended when a dark shadow cast over him. He glanced up to see a muscular, older man in Dolce and Gabbana staring down at him happily.
Radden made himself comfortable on the lounger with Amir, cozying up like an intimate friend, and placed one hand on his thigh.
“How are you feeling, Amir?” His voice oozed sensuality.
“Good, really good.”
“I’m glad,” Radden purred while drifting his hand high on Amir’s thigh, brushing under the hemline of his swimsuit. “I want us to have fun. Whatever that means to you.” He whispered the words with unspoken meaning that made the hair on Amir’s legs stand on end.
“Yeah, thanks,” Amir’s voice, intended to be strong but strict, instead came out small and wimpy.
“Of course, darling. And you know, if there's something you want, feel free to ask.”
“Mmhmm,” Amir couldn’t do more than moan as Radden’s hand reached further up his leg, brushing his manicured fingers into the slip between his thigh and hips.
“Good, glad you understand,” he finished with a kiss on the cheek that made Amir’s heart flutter. He pulled back and turned to leave, and Amir took the moment to admire the absolute size of Radden’s package, bouncing happily in a seafoam speedo. His mouth watered uncontrollably. A part of him wanted to call out, to say something to keep Radden’s attention, but it was quelled by the arrival of a staff member, bronzed to perfection, offering him another beverage with an obscenely white smile. He took it with a drunken grin and immediately slurped down the fizzy beverage.
He stayed for hours, applying some sunscreen the resort supplied and just admiring the patrons. Jai and Radden occasionally passed through, offering small waves before talking with other couples. It got more rambunctious as time wore on, younger guys became looser and freer, flirting aggressively and dancing sexually on the men with the most expensive watches or sunglasses. They flashed brand labels he’d never heard of but found himself obsessing over, wondering what they were, where they came from, and how much they cost.
Amir was not a fancy dresser. There was a part of him, the part that scrolled social media too frequently, that always imagined what it would be like to be like that. To parade around a hot (probably chemically altered) body in designer clothing, acting carefree. Peacocking about just to show off the goods, otherwise why the hell would you work so hard to have them. D&G sunglasses, Versace speedo, some silly, expensive bracelet that looked like it came from a vending machine. He watched as one guy, unnaturally tanned with jet black hair swept backwards like an ominous tidal wave, bounced his bikini briefed buttocks on the face of a man wearing tons of jewelry who seemed absolutely enthralled. Amir could be like. Maybe. Maybe he could be the hottie with the body acting a fool for laughs or gifts or fucks.
That bizarre train of thought actually snapped Amir back to reality. He laughed, feeling like he’d probably just woken up from a silly dream resulting from too much sun and too much booze. He resolved to sober up for the night, eat dinner, and head to bed.
—--
Amir hadn’t seen any of the others since the afternoon. He got food at a grab-and-go type cafe and ate in the privacy of the room. Initially, he’d hoped to see Neil and catch up about the day. He wondered if he’d seen him passed out by the pool. But the need for sleep came quickly, and before he knew it, he’d stripped off his clothing and crawled into bed in a pair of cheap boxers he kept just for sleeping in.
Amir awoke in the dark of the night to a slamming cupboard and running water. He heard muttering from the other side.
“Neil?” he went to the door and whispered.
“Oh, um, heyyy, Amir,” his voice was drawn out and slurry, sounding both drunk and stoned.
“You alright? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Yeah,” the h sounded like a relieved sigh. “I was at the spa. It was really fun. I’m gonna go back tomorrow.”
“Wait really? What did they do?” Amir jiggled with the door but found it locked.
“Just like, a massage and stuff. It was so relaxing. I really needed it.”
“Oh, okay,” Amir felt like he was talking at a club where the other person was only half hearing what he was saying. “You need anything?”
“Sleep, I’m super sleepy. Just gonna rinse off and sleep.” Amir wanted to ask Neil some more questions but he found himself drawn back to his bed and fell asleep without effort.
—--
It turns out Neil wasn’t the only person hitting the spa the next day. Radden had seemingly booked treatments every day at random times. Massages, facials, cleansings, steams, saunas, manicures, foot scrubs, acupuncture, Amir kept getting notices on his phone of another booking, with easy check-in and constant reminders. And he went. It felt a little too aggressive, a little too showy. But then again, he had happily flown here on Radden’s PJ. It’s not entirely shocking that he’d throw money around like a drag queen throwing shade.
The first few days rolled together. After yet another session where handsome staff doted over him obsessively, if he didn’t end up lolling around a pool or on a beach, Radden or Jai were grabbing his attention, insisting on hot tubbing or checking out guys or dancing or eating or doing shots. Each day, he kept not seeing Neil. And while he wanted to worry, every time it crossed his mind, Radden seemed to pop up out of nowhere to distract him with another drink, another event, another shopping trip.
Despite the fact that they seemed to own everything in the shop already, Radden and Jai always took a cruise through the resort’s stores each day. And they always picked up some new designer piece, whether it was a shiny watch, tight swimwear, or just some generic piece of trash that would likely sit on a shelf for a few years before being tossed in a refuse pile. He’d watched Radden try on pair after pair of spandex swimming suits in pastel colors with floral prints that Jai seemed to ooh and aah and agonize over. Jai spent nearly an hour obsessing over turtle shell engraved bracelets that all looked the same to Amir. Each time, Radden always tried to get Amir to try something on. Amir’s attempts at resistance became more and more perfunctory each time.
“What about these?” Radden handed Amir a pair of square shaped, black sunglasses trimmed in gold around the lenses. They looked good. Amir put them on, admiring how they framed his face, the harsh lines perhaps a bit too bold for his square face. He turned his head, admiring the cut of his jaw line when he noticed the sides had the most ostentatious logo he had ever seen. D&G embossed on a golden plaque attached on each side. It was utterly, completely, fabulously ridiculous. He wanted them so much.
Amir couldn’t even hide his desire. “I mean, I like them,” he tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. “They’re probably really expensive.”
“Nothing’s expensive, babe,” Radden winked as he whisked the glasses off Amir’s head, an AmEx Black already in his other hand. They were bought and back on his face within seconds.
He couldn’t stop admiring his reflection in the mirror. Amir liked it. Really liked it. Liked it on a level he hadn’t even imagined liking something before. All the sun and spa treatments had given his dark skin an almost ethereal glow, like spit-shined leather. Soft and supple but strangely masculine. He felt imbued with a strange confidence, a need to sort of strut, to puff out his chest and stick out his butt and hold himself with all the attitude of a needy social media influencer.
After that, it was a little easier to let go and just sort of flow. Radden wanted him to add tanning sessions at the spa and soon his skin had taken on an artificial sheen that matched Jai. He refused to hop into a swim brief, but accepted designer shirts and sandals. Soon, he was misting himself with aromatic colognes from brands he’d never heard of while sipping on champagne, real champagne, and gossiping about celebrity plastic surgery.
And still, Neil was nowhere to be seen. He heard him, each night, in the bathroom, and could see the remnants, opened toothpaste and used floss, of his activities. But he hadn’t come face to face in days. And that should have worried Amir. Really it should.
He knew that it should. But he didn’t care. He was having fun. Real fun, the kind of fun you see people on TV having. Everyday was just another party. Every man was a stunning stud with bulging biceps and hard cut abs who flounced and flirted without a care in the world. More and more, he spent afternoons chatting with overly muscled hunks with jaw implants and waxed bodies who giggly happily about getting fucked and who only worried about the calorie count of a cocktail and who was paying attention to them.
—--
Jai started taking him to an early morning aerobics class where swarms of beautiful men with perfect (and likely plastic) jaws and chins shoved their nuclear tanned muscles into shiny lycra that hugged each and every curve and striation as though desperately clinging onto a lifeboat. Mister Giant Pecs, the one Neil has drooled over, was shirtless, wearing peach color tights that shimmered in the morning light and did nothing to hide his massive bulge. Another stud with huge blond hair and an unending, dopey smile was shoved into a yellow leotard that sunk between his ass cheeks and wasn’t big enough to cover his pecs, instead the straining fabric nestled underneath his pecs. With the thin straps rolling over his shoulders, it looked like a window into his chest.
Amir wanted to die. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who was struggling. Sweat, scented with poppers and booze, seeped out of every man as they strived to cut the teeniest bit of fat or water from their bodies to be just a smidge hotter, make the waist just a bit smaller, make Daddy just a bit harder.
But the atmosphere of the class was infectious, cotton candy in event form. Despite the grueling workout and the aching pain, like he’d had teeth extracted from his muscles with no drugs, everyone was happy. The instructors had the wild enthusiasm of theme park guides, every man in the class giggled and groaned with each new movement. Vapid pretty boys constantly encouraged him to push harder, stretch further, breath deeper. And he did. Each time a little better, a little harder, a little tougher.
He had never felt so much pain and so much pleasure simultaneously. The dopey fun and physical arrogance on display made him horny and competitive. And before he knew it, he was prancing to a Britney song alongside the rest of them. Afterwards, he asked Jai to sign him up for every additional class they had.
—--
Another day, another shopping trip, Radden clenched Jai’s speedo clad buttocks with one hand while keeping the other tightly wrapped around Amir’s waist. The physical contact, the almost pathological need for it, from Radden had initially bothered Amir. But now, it just was. That was Radden. He was gonna hold and touch and rub and kiss and there was nothing Amir could do to stop it. Nor did he want to anymore. It felt like getting attention from a movie star.
Without warning, Radden shoved baby blue briefs into Amir’s face, rubbing it in like a chloroform soaked rag intent on knocking him out. It was stretchy and sexy. But what really caught Amir’s eye was the waistband. He’d seen it dozens of times on internet “models” and obscenely wealthy trophy boys. The repeating Grecian pattern of Versace. God, he wanted it so fucking badly.
But there was no way, no power in heaven or earth, that could convince him to put such a tiny thing on. There was no way he was walking around this palace of sin with fat rolls hanging out while everyone else looked like they were sculpted from the world's most perfect marble by the most talented hands to ever carve stone.
Just looking at the suit made him kind of hard.
He wasn’t sure what it was, specifically, about that waistband that infested his mind so effectively. Perhaps it was the almost vulgarity of it, the prominence of the label, the idea of having a brand instead of a personality. He loved it. He hated himself for loving it. And that kind of made him love it more.
But he would not wear them. Not today at least. Radden insisted on something, anything other than his basic black suit. In the end, Radden made him try on a pair of floral print jammers that had the illusion of being loose while still fitting tighter than his underwear. The flowery pattern (a sort of shimmery orange on a blue suit) seemed to glow on his body.
“Those workout classes are paying off,” Radden purred in his ear like a sex deprived vixen. Amir knew, knew knew knew, this was messed up. He might not have been fat per se, but there had definitely been a noticeable ridge around his waist that should, at this very moment, be spilling over the side of the elastic waistband, flipping it upside down underneath the roll.
But it wasn’t there. He wasn’t cut. There were no visible abs or even hints of. But his waist, while thick and stocky, formed a smooth line from his rib cage down to his hips. The suit fit fine. Not the aesthetically superb bodies all those other boys had. But he honestly felt so fucking sexy in it. His skin radiated and glowed, his face looked light and heavenly. Wrinkles and lines that should have dotted his face had seemingly vanished under the skin treatments and massages. His skin looked weightless, ageless almost. Vivacious. He barely even processed Radden buying them.
Radden made him wear them out of the store. His previous suit was left in a trash can. Amir felt different. It made him want to walk differently, to feel the tight fabric glide across his thighs and sink into his ass crack. He rolled one leg over the over, causing his buttocks to sway behind him. And he giggled happily when Radden’s rough hand possessively groped his spandexed ass.
—--
He paid more and more attention to the vapid himbos. No longer just admiring their asses or envying their pecs, but really focusing on their behavior. They were all so bouncy, there was no other word to describe it. They moved with a spring in their step, every time they got excited they seemed to jump up and down which caused their massive pecs to tremble and their gorgeous asses to shake like a rap video. Every movement oozed sexuality, their confident struts or rolling hips and puffed out chests were obvious. But it was the little things, the way a guy bent over, forcing his ass out just a bit too much, or how another seemed to just touch everyone whenever he spoke, that drew his attention. There was a need to show-off and a need for validation, each reinforcing the other.
Speaking of, one of those hyper muscles himbos, this one with a gravity defying quiff and a lime green speedo containing an ass that shook gloriously with every movement, was rubbing a giant black dildo between his pecs while two older men groped him lecherously. The himbo seemed to be having the time of his life, titty fucking himself to ogling onlookers. And Amir had to admire, those were the nicest pecs he’d ever seen. Huge, round, high and tight, luscious hard mounds of striated muscle that would never be contained by a shirt or jacket or sweater, permanently on display. Which is surely the point. No one spends that much time, money, and energy making those perfect meaty globes without wanting to show them off to the world. It made him think of Neil, ever envious of perfect pecs. In fact, this dude would probably make Neil cream himself on site.
But as he got closer, he couldn’t help but notice that despite the bronzed, smooth skin and blissful smile, that face was awfully fucking familiar.
“Neil? What. The. Fuck?” For a brief moment, the mental fog Amir had been under thinned. The image of his friend, formerly uptight and always on the verge of arguing, titty fucking himself in broad daylight and laughing like a moron snatched him fully to reality.
“O.M.Geee! Amir, like, yay! Where have you been?” Neil’s voice had never been deep, but it had always contained a sort of rough edge, like he was moments away from shouting. But now it was airy and empty, Loud but soft, like it couldn’t ever be angry or sad.
“Where have you been?”
“The spa!” Neil licked his lips lasciviously to the delight of the older men. Neil giggled in response as one of them groped his pecs aggressively.
“What happened to you?”
“Umm, I dunno. Radden set me up with some super fun treatments! Because, like, he said I was being so fun and he wanted me to have fun!”
“Listen Neil, something-”
“Niko, Radden wants me to go by Niko now! Isn’t that, like, so fucking cute!” Yes, it was fucking cute. This version of Neil was halfway between adorable and cum-on-sight-able. His now long hair was unnaturally blond and voluminous. The face was the same, just prettier somehow: the cheekbones a bit stronger, the jaw a bit more defined, the eyes a touch wider. The body, on the other hand, was absolutely astounding. It wasn’t even like Neil had improved. No, this titan’s body looked like a gymnast on steroids. The waist was minuscule, the pecs bobbled out in front of his body like floating balloons. His thighs were thick and veiny, seemingly like they should move mountains as he marched, but instead slipped over each other with dainty precision.
“Listen, Neil-“
“Niko, baaaabes!” Even the correction has such an air of passive joy that Amir almost forgot what he was saying.
“Niko,” Amir continued, the name slipping through gritted lips though it tasted like silk as he said it. It felt good to say. Calming and soothing. Fun. “But like, Niko… what happened?”
“When?” He bounced his pecs obliviously while sipping on a neon green drink with a curly emerald straw.
“When you, umm…. With Radden?”
“Oh!” Niko's voice perked up when Amir said his name and he couldn’t help but notice a stiffening in Niko's speedo. “Yeah we, like, talked. I told him I wanted to be hot. And he helped! He is sooooo sweet!” Niko giggled, like schoolgirl giggled, and then grabbed Amir’s hand and placed it on the curve of his pec right over his nipple. And then bounced them happily, causing Amir’s fingers to rub over his nipple as Niko’s eyes rolled back into his head.
Amir was taken aback. He and his friends were many things, but not sexually active with each other. It seemed gauche. And many a queer groups had broken up over break ups and jealousy and hook-ups. But the most shocking thing about it was how not Neil’s type Amir had ever been. Neil liked guys who looked like they walked off the cover of a fitness magazine, plastic sheen and all. But now, here he was, forcing him to rub his nipples while making orgasm faces with no shame or embarrassment.
It was hot. So fucking hot. And for a brief moment, that hotness was all consuming.
But then Radden arrived. Somehow, Niko became even bubblier, his sexual aura spiking to eleven as he ran and jumped into the much taller man’s arms and proceeded to make out like two guys in a porno. Again, soooo hot. But then Amir remembered Jai and wondered how he’d feel. But there he was, another pink speedo covering his essentials and pink sunglasses over his eyes. He had a snotty smirk on his face as he sauntered up, drawing the hungry eyes of men nearby.
“Listen slut,” Jai commanded. The pair stopped kissing but Radden still held Niko, whose arms and legs were coiled around Radden’s body. “I’m the boyfriend. You’re just a side piece, got it.”
“Babe, that’s, like, soooo hot!” Niko might have twirled his hair if his hands were free. Jai looked satisfied at the response.
“I’m the queen bee. You’re just a fun, dumb fuck doll. Fun and dumb,” Jai’s words had all the venom of a teen queen.
“And I need to be filled with cum!” Niko responded obliviously. Jai just laughed and agreed.
“I need a refill. We’re going,” Jai ordered Niko, who nodded like a golden retriever. He took one last gooey kiss from a satisfied Radden before bending over backwards, his legs still around Radden’s waist, and then performing a backwards handspring to right himself. Radden swatted his ass as Jai grabbed his hand and pulled him away. They minced towards the bar together, swishing their hips to show off the prime real estate to the pleasure of everyone watching.
A smug Radden wiped his face and watched lecherously as the two sauntered off. Amir, on the other hand, immediately turned and hustled the other direction. He slipped past a trio of bangable bros in tight suits who were playfully grabbing at each other’s crotches. Through the lobby, past the shops, swiping his bracelet for the elevator and immediately heading upstairs to his room.
Weird things were going on in his head. Things and thoughts that didn’t make any sense. Watching Nei-Niko… Niko make out with Radden was weird, right? Radden was Jai’s boyfriend. But Jai didn’t care. Maybe they had an open relationship? That would at least make sense. His brain kept dancing around the actual questions he wanted to think: what the hell had happened to Neiko. Neiko. Ne-ne-Niko.
Ugh, it made his head hurt. Surely, the booze didn’t help. Nor did the sun, the workouts, the protein, the long nights and endless debauchery. He felt very lightheaded and not like he had the previous days. His head felt dizzy and uncomfortable, not the effervescent fluffiness that had been slowly turning his brain into cotton candy. He felt like vomiting or maybe passing out, but then a very strong set of arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him into a muscular body so tightly he almost gagged on the scent of Armani cologne.
“Feeling alright, doll? You ran away so quickly, I knew I needed to come check on you,” Radden whispered in his ears. Amir couldn't tell if he wanted to push off or snuggle in. He settled for doing neither, simply looking up to stare into his wondrous eyes. He reached down and cupped Amir’s face like Hamlet holding a skull. “You are so very pretty. You know that, right? All three of you, honestly. You just need a little touch up.”
Amir wanted to fight back, to squirm and pull away, but he also wanted to sink into Radden’s eyes and voice and just let himself dive into his muscled body like some romance novel slut.
“Jai had those pretty, pretty lips that just NEED to be on a dick. And Niko, well, those pecs are the stuff of dreams and now he can live out his fantasies of being a cum whore in peace. But you, you dear, sweet, Amir, you have a glorious ass. And I bet a pretty pink hole under there that is just quivering to take me.”
Amir bit his lips and looked at Radden with eyes made of melting butter.
“You’re going to look so hot taking my cock and squealing like the little whore I know is inside you.”
“But first,” Radden pushed Amir back, analyzing him coldly. “You need to get some work.” Amir tried to speak up but Radden shoved a thick finger in his mouth, silencing him. “Nothing major, nothing you don’t want. Just a hot body, bigger muscles, really turn that ass into a work of art. And tousle the hair, fill the lips, you know I think a big bottom looks great with a bit of a pelvic tilt. Not too much, don’t want to ruin a prize bull. But you’ve got those beautiful features and some bronzer wouldn’t hurt. No, no, Daddy’s got it all worked out. You just need to hit up the spa starting tomorrow.”
Amir didn’t speak, lips sucking on Radden’s finger in surprising delight. He tasted salty and musky and his brain couldn’t help but obsess over what his cock would taste like.
“It’ll take a few days, you know. But don’t worry. I’ll be keeping an eye on you. And your friends won’t even notice you’re away. After all, they’re just dumb cumsluts now. Don’t you think that’s so hot?”
There wasn’t room for disagreement. Amir just nodded, eyes wide as he stared into Radden’s brown orbs.
“Good. Remember, Daddy knows best. And starting tomorrow, you’re gonna do what Daddy says.” He ruffled Amir’s hair affectionately and pulled his finger out of Amir's mouth with a loud pop. “Now, get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day, beautiful.” Amir’s brain felt mushy and odd, like the grey matter burst into rainbows and glitter that made it impossible to do anything other than smile and nod. He stripped off his wayward bathing suit and threw himself into the plush comforts of his bed with nary a thought in his head.
—--
Amir awoke to a pair of gorgeous men in tight, white uniforms knocking on his door, offering him a fluffy robe and slippers, before ushering him down the service elevator straight into the spa. The air smelled like honeysuckle and buttercream while an army of men of all shapes, colors, and ethnicities kept busy tending to their work.
He stripped at a locker before being directed to a sauna where he spent a few minutes soaking in the heat before being put under a cold shower and then moved to a steam room filled with overpowering oils. His body was scrubbed, then he swapped between hot and cold tubs before returning to a massage table where a man of unknowable ethnicity treated his body like unmolded clay and pushed and prodded his muscles into a new shape. Then facials and more scrubs, microneedles embedded into his face, and then a man who looked like a circus strongman pulled and twisted his hips in strange ways that made his back pop constantly.
He spent most of it wearing noise cancelling headphones that played soothing chants backed by repetitive static. The only interruption came when he was given orders: turn over, stand up, sit down. No one ever explained what was happening, only what to do. Which was fine with him. He felt an overwhelming calm echoing around inside his skull, making it feel as though his brain wasn’t present at all.
The day ended with Amir strapped down on a table while a collection of long needles were inserted throughout his body, along the edge of every major muscle group. And then they began pulsing. Tingly, nearly painful, waves of electricity spasmed through his body, each moment feeling like he’d just worked out his muscles to their fullest, only to immediately be forced back into the exercise at a higher weight or greater intensity. All the while, he could do nothing except twitch and drool as the physical exertion overpowered what little remained of his brainpower.
Before he knew it, he was again wearing a robe and slippers, consuming recovery beverages the texture of mucus, as the techs took measurements and prepared him for tomorrow. He stood up dizzily and was gently escorted back to his room by hypervigilant attendants.
The process repeated over several days. New treatments were introduced. Sterilized needles were inserted into his lips and along his jaw and chin that injected strange, stiff gels that made him feel like he’d been stung by a bee. His hair was wrapped in foil and subjected to treatments under an old fashioned hair dryer while he was allowed to watch porn videos of hot guys looking rapturous as they got railed by older men.
Soon the massages were followed by waxing, where each tiny little follicle of hair anywhere below his neckline was evicted from his body with resounding glee from a babyfaced technician with red hair spiked sky high. The muscle twitch needles followed again, sending larger and larger pulses of electricity through every inch of fiber in his body, thrusting his pecs and pulling his lats and crunching his abdominals over and over again. It hurt tremendously, but like a gym burn, like he’d just exceed his limits and immediately set new, higher goals. The needle placement slowly changed, further apart as he muscles responded to the stimuli and sustenance, as they grew into a bulky, masculine form like a gymnast in his prime. Those sessions were always followed by intense stretching where his legs were slowly pressed into perfectly straight lines, front to back, side to side, and over his head.
The back popper happened more frequently, moving up and down his spine, seeming to snap things into place. It kept feeling deeper, like the change happened further inside the spine, altering his stance outright. He began spending extra time right at his hips, pushing his buttocks back and forth in a small thrusting motion. His thumbs remained firmly pressed against Amir’s butthole the entire time, creating a not unpleasant sensation throughout the process.
The chanting began forming into words. Fun words. Things that made him want to have fun. To be fun. To not worry or think or stress. Instead, he focused on how good it felt to be pretty, to wear pretty clothes, to make men horny just by looking at you. God, he wanted men to get hard just seeing him! Wouldn’t that be the life, to be so fucking sexy that hot guys just threw themselves at him? And he’d want them all. Want to take them all. Want to be filled by their hard rods past the point of sanity, until he was just a writhing and moaning mass of muscles and rainbows.
He was constantly hard. And leaking. And harder muscles made his brain leak, too. Pesky thoughts and fears just drained out as his personality got polished and shined and plasticized. Nothing deep, nothing interesting. Surface. Hot. Fun. Dumb.
—--
Time became meaningless. His days were just cycles of being tended to in one way or another. It felt right. It felt like what he deserved. Another massage, some lotion, hair styling, and then suddenly things changed. The attendants took him to a large room with a circular multi-panel mirror. Andd he saw himself for the first time.
He was GORGEOUS!
Every inch of his dark skin, denuded of hair, now shone in amber brilliance, luminescent, obviously artificial, and perfectly smooth. No human on earth naturally had this color. It was a testament to tanning and skincare, a proclamation that the person who cultivated this amber glaze obsessed over their physical appearance on a level most people could only dream of.
Amir’s face had been cute, charming even, in the right lighting. But now it would stop traffic. His cheekbones rode high and wide on his formerly blocky face, giving it some harsh angularity that put runway models to shame. His lips were fuller, pinker, and hung ever so slightly open, a constant seductive pout. Bushy brows had been plucked and laminated into dark blades, inviting people to stare into his wider eyes whose brown color looked a bit lighter now, woodier with fantasies of forest greens amidst the bark. And on top of it all was bleach blond, pure white hair, mostly swept back but a few loose curls dangled just above his left eye.
But that was just the start. Amir’s body, previously thick and slightly flabby and devoid of any visible muscle, now shamed Apollo. His lats spread wider than his chest, reshaping him into a stunning male hourglass, thick, wide shoulders that cascaded into meaty pecs before tightening into hearty, natural abs– the kind of abs that existed for more than vanity, they suggested that he could bend or twirl into positions unimaginable by an average man.
All of that was nothing. Below his abs, his body ballooned out into the most delicious, curvy, round, perky, prominent, aggressively sexual ass he’d ever seen. This ass wasn’t a dumptruck, it was a fucking pickup truck because men would be riding in the back constantly! It was perfect! Huge and high and muscular with just the perfect level of fleshy bouncy that shook and wiggled with every step. It belonged on the Mount Rushmore of asses, a thing of such phenomenal beauty it just begged to be used.
And the thought of being used, of being fucked until dawn by some aggressive mega-dicked top with the stamina of a breeding ox just filled him with such passion, such lust, he couldn’t help but bite his lips like a vixen hoping to entice men. He wanted, no he needed, to be seen. Not as a person but as a sexual object.
God it made him feel so hot.
He stood, utterly transfixed by the myriad of flawless reflections that cooed back at him with ravenous, sexual hunger in their eyes. His hips tilted forward slightly, a little curve in his lower back, that caused his ass to jut out a bit further, a bit higher, a bit more enticing, like a fleshy bait to lure cocks to his hole. Never, in his life, had he stood in front of a mirror totally naked and felt nothing but admiration for the form before him. It had no flaws, no worries. There was nothing to improve. He looked like an Olympic gymnast with a great plastic surgeon who made millions of dollars on OnlyFans doing nothing more than exposing his body and offering sultry looks.
“Well, well, well,” the deep, breathy words came from behind Amir. He turned to see Radden, in a leopard print Versace speedo and a delicate linen button down left open to show off his pecs and abs, clapping softly as he admired Amir’s new form. “You look perfect,” he purred. Amir might have blushed, but instead he just posed, pushing out his glutes more and puffing up his lips as though offering a kiss. Radden strut over, the leopard print covered package bounding from side to side in a mouth watering and hole wetting display. Amir looked up expectantly as he approached, eager for more approval.
Radden didn’t say more, he just took in the sight of Amir’s altered form, playing with the curls in his hair and patting his muscles as though inspecting a product. He cupped Amir’s balls with one hand, gliding his fingers across their newfound smoothness in gentle appreciation. His other hand nestled up inside Amir’s gigantic booty until one finger was firmly planted on his butthole. Amir bit his lip and released a lush, porny moan that he would never, ever have made before. But now it slipped out as naturally as blinking.
“Good boy,” he whispered erotically into Amir’s ear. Amir whimpered submissively in response and then his face twisted into a lustful smirk as he began rolling his butt, slowly snaking Radden’s finger inside his hole. Radden let him continue for a few moments, proudly baring down on his latest conquest before pulling off as Amir released a squeaky whine.
“Not yet,” Radden put a finger over Amir’s lips. “We still have work to do. Now,” he turned the technicians with dispassionate professionalism. “Is everything as ordered?”
They confirmed, laying out a list of detailed improvements Radden had commanded: lips, cheeks, muscles, glutes, brain, personality. Amir just stood silently, not paying attention, as the details of his own transformation were laid bare. He did catch a few words, specific measurement of pelvic tilt, gluteal curvature, reformatted personality type. But none of that was very interesting. Radden, looking so serious and business-like, was more fun to watch. Despite being dressed in a showy speedo, he still commanded the room and the men in it like a ruthless CEO acquiring a rival company. Amir got hard again.
“Now that that’s settled,” Radden returned his attention to Amir. His voice dropped the harsh tones he’d addressed the help with and adopted the cloyingly sweet tones he used talking to his boytoys. “We just have a few more things to do, okay baby?” Amir was given a collection of jewelry, a turtle embossed bracelet, a dainty little silver chain, and a tiny stud in his nose. With grandiose flourish, as though introducing this season's debutante, he produced a tiny pair of baby blue fabric with a Grecian design on it. The Versace swim briefs from earlier. Amir clapped giddily and reached for them, but Radden shushed him and insisted on dressing him like a doll. He stepped into the swimsuit and Radden slid the tight fabric over his smoothed and enlarged legs, forced it backwards over the luscious rump of his titanic ass and pressed his cock and balls downwards as he allowed the waistband of the suit to snap around his tiny waist.
Amir creamed himself immediately.
“Now that’s my beautiful boy,” Radden cooed. “Oh, and one final note. Since you are such a good boy, aren’t you?” Amir nodded eagerly. “See, you’re almost perfect now, so pretty, so stupid, so obsessed with cock and cum that you’ll treat your body like a holy temple dedicated to the pleasures of homosexuality. And that temple deserves a good name, doesn’t it? Not Amir. That’s so boring, so lame. You wanna be fun and simple and stupid and hot, right doll?”
Ami was so hard, despite having just cum, that not a single drop of blood was pumping to his brain. His vision blurred and a bystander could almost hear the whirring clink of broken joints as Amir’s mind stopped and slowed and ceased. His face nodded in agreement.
“Good, cause I think it would be soooo hot if you were named Rio. R-I-O. Fun, right?” Sparkles, rainbows, a sun exploding into atoms, nothing could quite explain exactly what happened inside his head at that moment. Only that the words broke something, or rather fixed something, permanently.
“Tell me your name,” Radden’s command was strong but seductive, a dom coming home to roost.
“I’m Rio!” Sparkles, rainbows, cotton candy exploded inside his head.
“Again.”
“I’m Rio!” Sweet, charming, hyper sexual, and completely and utterly devoted. Rio, freed from Amir and his body and brain, shifted just a bit. A bit cockier, looser, gaining full comfort in his new form and function like a prisoner freed from shackles and now standing upright.
Radden walked next to Rio and grabbed his glutes aggressively. Rio forced them back into his hand with a subtle moan. Radden slapped his glutes and watched them jiggle.
“Now, we’re gonna go back to the room and you’re gonna show me that pretty hole I paid for. And I’m gonna fuck you so hard that anything left behind in that pretty head of yours is gonna melt. I’m gonna turn your hole into a cavern. My cock is going to become your God and salvation.” Rio’s eyes fluttered and his heart raced at the promise of a good fucking. He needed it, like fundamentally needed it, as much as he needed water and food. Without another word, Radden slipped the D&G sunglasses over Rio’s eyes. The perfect finishing touch for a trophy.
Radden’s hand pawing as his newfound ass, Rio paraded through the main lobby like a hero from war. He could tell people were looking at him, knew they were devouring his ass with their eyes, knew they were envying Radden’s huge hand on his bulbous mound. It felt fucking great.
They were both hard and leaking by the time they got the room. Briefs were stripped off unceremoniously, though Radden didn’t bother taking off his shirt. He hoisted Rio up and fireman’s carried him into the master suite. Rio didn’t spend a second taking in the massive luxury of the room, superior to the practically pitiful room he had by comparison. His entire brain focused on the massive erection riding up from Radden, the purple head bobbing several inches above his bellybutton and dripping with semen.
Unceremoniously, he flipped Rio on his back and pushed his legs over his head, forcing them straight and insisted he keep the toes pointed. All the body reshaping Rio had undergone meant that it was completely natural. Radden admired the hole, praising its color and shape, and then with brutal efficiency, plunged his hard cock inside.
There was nothing romantic about the sex, no emotions, just need. Rio wasn’t his boyfriend after all; he was just a hole. And Radden pistoned in and out of him like a beast releasing years of pent up aggression as only sex can. For Rio it was more sparkles and rainbows. A cock, a huge cock, thrusting inside of him and treating his body like a fleshlight was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He didn’t touch his own dick. He didn’t need to. His prostate was what mattered now; the top’s cock is what mattered now. He’d cum when they did, once they dumped their thick loads inside him and left him sweaty and leaky and ready for more. Rio would always be up for round two. And round three.
It ended quickly but ferociously, with Radden releasing a primal cry into the sky, veins bulging across his neck as the spasming rod inside Rio sent them both into orgasmic bliss. Rio’s own cock blasted out and launched his cum directly into his mouth. He let out a stilted moan as he slurped down his own cum with glee.
—--
Everything was soooo much more fun now. The boytoys got up, worked out, looked hot, and tended to Radden’s sexual needs. Otherwise, they did whatever they wanted. They’d flirt with other hot himbos or rich old men. They got shitfaced drunk and grinded their sweaty bodies on dance floors. The trio even ended up in a gymnastics contest, donning leotards and doing flips and cartwheels with relative ease, although their exaggerated physiques kept them slightly off balance.
Radden kept them color coded for convenience: pink for Jai, green for Niko, blue for Rio. Everyday he picked out matching swimsuits with flashy designer labels prominent and loud. Rio’s collection of high-end sunglasses grew daily as Radden shopped with him, happily choosing the perfect pair for his newest toy.
They still had the spa daily, though now the whole foursome went together and got their facials and massages. Jai still sucked Radden dry after a good massage, but Niko was on hand for a tit fucking while Rio kept his bussy clean and lubed just in case Radden needed to blow off some steam. And of course, any other guy who caught his fancy. Rio’s sex drive had turned from mild to insatiable. He LOVED it. But he never felt satisfied. Within minutes, he’d be ready to search for another dick, another load, another guy to flirt and flounce with.
Rio was hot as fuck, horny as hell, dumb as a rock, and could not have been any happier.
They’d have to leave soon, unfortunately. Rio briefly thought about his passport, what had happened to it, but that thought soon dissolved into nothingness. Radden would take care of anything important. His purpose wasn’t to stress or worry. That was for ugly people. Himbos like him were supposed to be hot, fun, horny, and available. And he loved it.
This life-changing stone really turned my life for the better after endless struggle trying to break into Hollywood. Simply wishing for things as I held the stone and split seconds later, reality shifted or luck happened to me as I got all sorts of perks that I know I will not be able to get without the help of this stone. I could wish for having a glimmering career easily but then I realize that I want to change a little thing or two with my friends back in my hometown so I bought the fastest ticket back to my hometown and here I am now inside the flight that will take me back to my hometown that I am too ashamed to visit in the past 6 years.
I get the window seat and next to the empty middle seat, in the aisle seat there's this pimply-looking nerd and he seems very distraught. We have a quick chat and he said that this is his first time flying and watching 2 hours of flight accident before the flight definitely didn't help him. Especially when his friend suddenly have to cancel to accompany him in his first flight so I moved to the middle seat and explained to him that everything will be fine. He's still looking pale so I decided to make my move. I smiled at him and then grab the stone in my coat pocket wishing for him to be more relaxed and treating the flight as an enjoyable experience. His face gets calmer and I smiled again, mission successful, at least he will not disturb me for the entire flight asking my help to make him not anxious. This is quite an early morning flight so I decided to get some sleep because I really need the energy for the whole thing I will do with this stone alongside my best friend.
Shit....a turbulence. Grrrr....I feel like I haven't even sleep that long. I drowsily open my eyes, it's still quite dark inside the cabin and when I look around, I'm quite surprised to see this huge guy sitting next to me. I clearly remember I'm not sitting next to such muscle monster. Then, he smiled at me and said
"The turbulence make you scared? Maybe you need to hold on to my strong biceps then?"
Whoa....what a sight. Everyone is not fully awake so I touch that glorious left hand bicep and oh fuck, this guy is fucking solid. I keep squuezing at that humongous biceps and even try to make my move to his equally breat-taking pectoral. But what is he doing with his right hand, it seems like it keeps rubbing on that bulging pocket of his?
"Now now boy, you seems like a bitch in heat, you need some liquid to cool you down? You wanna drink my cum, don't you?" he said as he whispered with that gruffy voice of his to my ear
Shoot.....the straightforwardness! And yes, I do feel thirsty because they apparently didn't serve any drink. Oh, look at that throbbing bulge, it's like as if the monster asked for a release. The protein-rich cum of his will be a good replacement for water in this drought. I looked at him for approval as I bite my lip, hands on top of his bulge and then he smirked
"Anything for my good obedient personal assistant," and that's when I directly lunge to his throbbing dick in the early morning inside a flight as we're heading for his bodybuilding competition later tonight.
"I wish everyone in this flight want to suck my cock as eager as you," he said as he pushed my head to the base of his 7 inches cock and then suddenly the whole cabin lit with light and people from the back and the next row start staring at me. I faintly heard him say "Whoops" but maybe I heard it wrong, this is my moment still and I will not let go until I get myself that tasty protein-rich cum of his!
“I mean look at this!” Zach nearly shouted holding up his shirt revealing a near perfect 8 pack and a vicious V of abdominal muscles.
His friend Elm just rolled his eyes again. “Man, if you keep holding up your shirt to show off your so called ‘new muscles’ I’m gonna think you’re just being cocky. For the last time, I don’t see anything different. Did you get a new row of abs or something?”
The frightened muscle brute shook his head nervously, his huge body quaking in anxiety. Anyone looking would see quite an uncharacteristic demeanor for someone so huge.
“No! I’m saying all of THIS is new.” Zach said using his huge hand to gesture to his entire 6′8 form. “One moment I’m on my way to the Chem building for class, the next I’m screaming out in the middle of the quad as my body begins growing. It hurt a lot! My legs are still sore from how much they stretched out and my arms feel so heavy when I’m walking. My feet are still scarred from bursting through my sneakers!”
“If I could roll my eyes anymore they would be. Zach now I know you’re just making shit up. But fine I’ll humor you. You say you were this 5 foot tall shrimpy dude this morning. Fine. That doesn’t explain why you’re not walking around naked after you supposedly tore up all your clothes with some miraculous growth spurt only you remember.” Elm replied half heartedly.
Zach gave a very solemn attempt at looking pouty, which appeared down right odd on his bearded adonis of a face. “Well after I was covered in scraps of clothes they all reformed into what I’m wearing now… Come on! When do I ever wear these tight workout shirts! Or this really thigh high track shorts! And these feet are so big they’re practically poking out of my sandals.”
The two reluctantly opened the doors to the Chemistry building. “You literally wear stuff like that all the time. Look. It was fun on the walk over here, but now it’s getting old and we’re late for class. If you want to complain about how you don’t know how you got all these huge muscles, bearded face, and deep booming voice without ever working out or having the genetics for it, get in line. I’ve been complaining about that for years. Now shut up because Professor Bravermin hates when we whisper during his class. You always get us caught with your foghorn of a voice.”
With that last comment Zach finally admitted defeat and took a seat in the admittedly small desks of the lecture hall. His long hairy legs pushing the seat in front of him and his wide shoulders accidentally knocking over someone’s bag. If not for his well trimmed beard his blushing cheeks would be clear to see. He had no idea how he’d gained nearly 2 feet in height or why no one rememberd him otherwise, but he just hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of his normal life. After all he still had run the video game club later today, he just hoped he wouldn’t crush the small controllers.
-
Back at the Quad
“What the fuck man? You actually believe you were handed a magic book? You’re even dumber than I thought.” Bill the football jock said to his teammate Greg.
“You’re the dumbass. I said I found a book from that weird old house that overlooks the football field. My tutor said it was in Latin and one of the spells would cause someone to be the perfect athlete.”
“Hate to break it to you man, but you look the same as yesterday.” Bill laughed shoving his teammates shoulder.
“I know I do idiot. I don’t know what I did wrong… I said the stupid spell while I was walking through the quad right before I bumped into nerdy Zach. Guess this thing was a load of crap. Last time I listen to my tutor.” Greg growled as they walked into class.
Bill stifled a laugh. “You can hardly call Zach a nerd man. He’s got about 6 inches and a whole lot of muscle over you. We get you’re jealous but leave the guy alone.”
His friend continued to laugh as Greg looked at him perplexed. He had no idea what Bill was talking about. However, once he sat down for class he felt a large thump at the back of his seat. Turning around he was met with the biggest guy he’d ever seen. Part of him was terrified, part of him was jealous, but the other wanted to get to know this new hunk.
PROJECT SUMMARY:
Though the degree of cerebral reconfiguration was unprecedented, our conversion of TEST SUBJECT 22 was a complete success. Subject’s visual motion-tracking, reflexes, and proprioception are now at the peak of human capacity. Subject has also taken to the obsession we’ve implanted deep in his subconscious to pursue muscular hypertrophy with absolute dedication. Subject has grown 80 lbs in lean mass throughout the 400 days of the project.
We were also highly successful in imprinting two father figures to the subject: Mr. Howard and Mr. Burnett (the hitting coach and head coach to the University’s baseball team). They report unwavering loyalty from the subject and an astounding dedication to baseball and the team. In their words, Subject is now “nothing but the perfect hitting machine,” devoid of all thoughts or desires outside of his role as the team’s Designated Hitter. This has resulted in impairments of the Subject’s ability to function outside the baseball diamond, but his needs are well taken care of while he lives in the baseball team’s clubhouse. Subject had to discontinue his studies in engineering, but the administration has allowed the Kinesthesiology Department to award him credits in “applied hypertrophic sciences,” which will apply to a BS in General Education.
With TEST SUBJECT 22′s significant positive impact on ticket sales for the baseball team, the University’s Dept of Athletics has allocated a significant sum of funds to further our research in the Psychology Dept to produce similar assets. Here’s to the future.
Ian signed up for the clinical trial without a second thought. He couldn’t pass up getting paid to sleep (or at least trying to sleep—the trial was testing a cure for insomnia, after all). When he first checked in at the sleep research center, he found it weird they were going to use hypnotherapy, but at this point he was willing to try anything for a good night’s rest.
Dr. Laud was built like a brick, with shoulders that went on forever and enough bulk to counterbalance a rhino on a see-saw. So it surprised Ian how gentle and warm his voice was, and how quickly its deep, resonant tones would send him into velvety oblivion.
The trial was only a month long, and its end felt too soon for Ian, who’d experienced the best sleep he’d had in years. But Dr. Laud told Ian he was eligible for the center’s next study, which was going to look at the effects of exercise and exertion on sleep. Ian signed all the paperwork then and there.
Two years later, a gay strip club opened in town. Its name was OUT LAUD. Ian’s friend Tony went to go check it out with his friends. Ian would’ve loved a place like this, Tony thought. He wondered where his friend disappeared to two years ago.
All the performers were muscled like Greek gods, and wore themed costumes. There was one performer in athletic gear going by the name of JOCKBOY, and to Tony’s shock his face was a dead ringer for Ian’s. Tony had to talk to JOCKBOY. He snuck backstage and tried to talk to the big hunk, but to his frustration, the guy insisted his real name was JOCKBOY, and he was nothing but a big dumb muscle slut. The commotion attracted the attention of a broad-shouldered middle aged man, who simply said “JOCKBOY, sleep,” and Ian immediately collapsed against the wall. Tony panicked. What the hell is going on?
The man put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.
“You look agitated, young man. But I can help you relax.”
transformheaven @transformheaven - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
