Davis looks at the man across from him.
"Diversity hire?" He shakes his head. "I'm Irish but I don't think being Irish counts as a diversity hire. I'm not even gay!"
Hugh, manager of Gay Paradise Resort and Lounge, is a white guy who's picking his teeth with a toothpick. He rolls his eyes.
"Look," he reaches into his desk and places a Speedo on top of it. Davis can only assume this is his uniform. "It's not that bad. You just go around in your Speedo and look good. The sun will get to you, give you a nice tan. You look a little pale."
Davis ignores the comment. He takes his uniform for the day and heads to the locker rooms to change. He really needs the money. He feels guilty at the fact that he, a straight white man, is going to be parading around a queer-centered, majority POC staffed resort, but the job market is shit. He grabs the neon yellow Speedo and sees, to his dismay, a giant Colombian flag emblazoned on the front. Hugh steps into the locker room as Davis slides the Speedo over his crotch and ass. It's roomy in both departments which is supremely embarrassing.
Hugh motions for Davis to follow him. "Your name is Danilo. D-A-N-I-L-O. And you're from Bogotá. Got it?"
"Isn't this, I don't know, a little fucked up?"
Hugh's face is unreadable. "You'll get used to it."
They walk for a few minutes and emerge from the locker room and out onto the poolside. The water is so blue it looks fake. The loungers have crisp, white upholstery. Every guy hanging out is ridiculously good looking, buff or toned from regular workouts. It's like he's stumbled onto a White Lotus set.
He does see a lot of diversity out on the pool, a few white servers and loungers but mostly Black, Thai, Japanese, Indian, Native American, and Latine. He's impressed by the mix of body types as well. Chubby, muscular, a mix of both or scrawny like Davis. He feels a little more comfortable but not entirely at ease. He feels weird. A butterfly sensation in his stomach like he's nervous about something. Tingling rippling through him that doesn't feel bad just off.
"Have fun out there," Hugh says. "You know where to find me if you need anything."
Hugh is gone for all of five seconds before a handsome Thai boy in a thong - that does nothing to support his thick bulge - hands him a drink and points to a guy saying, "This is for him. Welcome aboard newbie!"
Davis smiles and walks the drink over to the guy. He's wearing sunglasses and a blue thong. He's quite literally the biggest man Davis has ever seen, stacked with so much muscle it's a wonder he's able to apply his sunscreen. The man's bulge is lewd and Davis tries not to make a face.
He takes the drink and says, "Gracias, hon," with one of the deepest voices Davis has ever heard.
Davis sort of stands there, unsure of what to do. That fluttery feeling builds in his stomach as he finds himself staring at the man's chest. Abs, arms, bulge. It reminds him of whenever he sees a hot chick, like he's drinking in the man's features.
"Need something?" the bodybuilder asks, not unkindly.
Davis blushes and scurries away like a startled bunny.
The Thai waiter gives him a glass of water. "It's okay to be nervous, it's your first day. Relax and enjoy the sun!" He smiles so sympathetically and sweetly it kind of makes Davis's heart squeeze.
After taking several deep breaths and chugging the water, he settles pretty easily into a rhythm. Serving drinks and food and occasionally turning around and bending over seductively to pick up something he drops. He hopes he doesn't look too stiff or awkward but he just imagines he's one of his exes, making sure the guy can see his non-existent tits. He only really trips up when he has to say his name is Danilo and not Davis. But he kind of sort of gets the hang of it enough to not awkwardly pause before saying it. It takes him a bit longer to actually respond to the name consistently.
The fluttery feeling only intensifies through his shift as the sun beams on him no matter how much shade he tries getting, afraid his pasty skin is going to get burned. And also trying to avoid the bodybuilder's gaze from beyond his Ray-Bans, which only makes this nervous giddiness worse.
He's happy when he notices that his skin is seemingly tanning instead of burning and a few men make a comment on it. One of the Black servers - Jeremiah - tells him it looks nice.
But still he feels off. Starting with his ass.
It feels sore for some reason. A pleasant ache radiating from both cheeks. Davis absently rubs his cheeks when he's not moving between loungers to try and soothe it. He tries to do it as discreetly as possible because he's still not totally comfortable with these men ogling him so openly. The ache intensifies and it feels like his skin is really sensitive, like he's more aware of the Speedo's fabric. He grits his teeth as he serves drinks as his ass begins to feel...bloated? Like there's gas built up in both cheeks. His breath hitches as he feels his ass, his pancake ass, wobbling behind him. He catches his reflection in one of the many windows peering out into the pool area and sees that his ass is indeed bigger.
Much bigger. And - brown?
His ass is fat and juicy, squeezing against the Speedo in a way that it most certainly didn't do earlier. Touching it reveals it's mostly muscle so it's perky, firm and sitting high up on his thighs. The increased weight leaves his mouth hanging open as he feels that the cheek he's fondling is getting ... softer. It feels like ice cream is being churned in his ass as it surges forward again, this time making him moan in both surprise and also because it felt kind of ... good. A few servers glance his way but nobody seems to be paying much attention to him.
His dormant prostate tingles oddly just as his asshole puckers against the fabric of the Speedo being sucked between his fattening, tanning ass. He can feel it swelling, fattening up. It feels so good it's taking him everything in his power not to moan. His cock twitches absently and he turns even redder, certain he looks like a fucking tomato now. Every step makes his ass jiggle tantalizingly, like he's a stripper putting on a show. It gets even worse when he feels that pleasant warmth spreading to his thighs. He can feel that pleasurable churning sensation deep in the bones and muscle, gritting his teeth as the bronze color spreads from his still thickening ass and down his legs. The previous twigs slowly start inflating. Fat but mostly dense muscle bloating and stretching his now officially thick legs, which also begin jiggling alongside his dump truck.
"Hey," Jeremiah says. "That guy is signaling to you."
Davis blinks and sees the bodybuilder coyly pretending to be sunning. He can feel the man's stare from his periphery as he gasps, his thighs now touching each other and squeezing his balls in between. His ass heaves, nearly swallowing the tightening speedo as it reaches genuine bubble butt territory. Sticking out at least an extra foot behind him, stretch marks adorning the sensitive, hairless skin as fat and muscle stuff themselves into his ass. He sees himself in the reflection of the doors and shudders, seeing his thighs still pulsing and feeling the pleasure make his hard cock start to drip as a few more pounds of cakey muscle flood his thighs. The Colombian flag on the front distended and dampening.
"You alright, man?" Jeremiah asks, one eyebrow raises.
Davis tries to act natural, ignoring the fact that he spoke Spanish. Basic Spanish 101 but Spanish nonetheless.
He shudders as he unconsciously rubs his thighs together, making his cock and balls brush against the Speedo. His cock oozes out a thick glob of pre. He sees the dark color race down to his calves and he clenches his mouth shut as tightly as possible to prevent the slutty moan from escaping his lips. There's no way that's a normal tan. It's too rich, too deeply set in his skin to be anything but a totally new skin color washing down his body. With each drip of pre, his reddish hair begins darkening, the ginger stubble standing out more against his tanning skin as he clenches his thighs tight, so tight in fact that he fears the head of his cock is going to slip out the waistband as his calves inflate and thicken, the power in his new legs undeniable as he steadies himself against the bar.
"Aw," Jeremiah says, "don't worry newbie. You'll get used to it."
The handsome Black man blows him a kiss and Davilo's gasp nearly makes him choke. He straightens himself, breathing heavily, a bright numbness settling over his brain. His powerful legs propel him over to the bodybuilder, the sun warming his sensitive skin and making his nipples harden. He's so turned on and has no idea why. Why is his stomach fluttering as he's looking at this guy's bulge, his flexing muscles, god those perfect pecs, and wait was it that smell?
"So, Danilo," the bodybuilder's buttery voice makes his legs shake. The color races down his shins, the muscles growing and strengthening as his hips widen slightly, making his ass jiggle. He tries staring at the man's eyes behind his sunglasses but he keeps finding himself looking at the man's bulge. "Where are you from?"
"Indi, uh, Bogotá," he says, and the pronunciation is so perfect it makes him blink with surprise. But not as surprising as this fog thickens over his brain, the bulk of it hormones because of how horny he's feeling, but also, this emptiness as he tries picturing his childhood home, the cornfields he said he would never see again and instead, he sees rushing water and hears people rapidly speaking Spanish, and the sights and sounds of Bogotá being ramming themselves into his brain piece by piece.
He whimpers as his feet start to shrink.
"Are all men there as beautiful as you are?"
He literally cannot hold back the noises he's making as his feet begin collapsing, sliding across the concrete. He angles his body away from the man, only to realize he's showing the man his fat ass and the rest of the guests and employees his erection. But no matter, he's more concerned by his big, pale feet shrinking and contracting. His size 11 soles slimming and becoming a bit more soft, moisturized, the nails clipped and trimmed neatly as his toes shrink and his feet pull in. The lost mass slides up his legs and lands in his thighs, a little bit blooming his ass even further as he hears the bodybuilder growl hungrily behind him. He risks a peek over his shoulder as he sees the man's monster of a cock rising in his skimpy swimwear.
Davilo whimpers as the man licks his lips. Then he blinks. That can't be what the man said. It didn't sound like English, it sounded like -
"¿Cómo conseguiste un culo tan bonito?"
His brain burns as images of him working out at the gym flood his mind. More pre spitting from his cock as his feet settle into a size 9. Images of him squatting and doing hip thrusts, dedicating entire days to working out his ass and thighs to make sure his lower body was even. Thick and juicy. Strong enough to hold him steady whenever he straddled one of his girlfriend's strap-ons and let them fuck him hard.
He grits his teeth. No, that's not right. It can't be right.
"Something's, uh, something's muy malo."
The man's face is unreadable beneath the growing lust. Davilo's thighs itch as dark hair carpets them. He runs a hand through his dark hair and shakes his head, his entire lower body jiggling. Including his cock and balls. He glances down and sees a dark bush of pubes growing, some of them spilling over the top as his cock throbs harder, more incessant. His nostrils flare as he picks up on a scent that he was only dimly aware of.
A scent that makes his asshole clench in anticipation.
That smell of a locker room after a group of guys just gone done working out. It's some dude's armpit. It's him sneaking glances at the guys as they changed, his body buzzing with horniness as his exes begin fading away, their features dimming into nothingness as he takes greedier huffs.
It's coming from the bodybuilder.
In fact, it seems to come from him in waves. Waves that make Davilo's cock throb hungrily as more blood than he thought possible lands in his crotch.
"What's wrong, baby?" the man asks. "Who does Christian have to fight?" He says this coyly, in rumbling Spanish, grabbing at his crotch and it makes Davilo's body shudder with horniness.
Davilo's 5-inch cock stretches across the Speedo, thickening and growing longer. The once sagging flag stretching taut around his constantly leaking cock, the sensitivity making his toes curl and bringing his knees together. His eyes just might roll into the back of his head as it feels like he's being jerked off as his foreskin regrows, sliding delicately across his soaking wet cock that gushes pre like it's trying to evacuate his balls. Balls that are hairier, start drooping lower, swelling to accommodate his more sensitive prostate and enlarging cock. The once 5-inch member grows to 7 girthy inches, the head spasming and slipping out the waistband of his speedo, now struggling to keep up with his oversexed lower body.
I need to - to g - sal de aquí. Ay dios mío! Something's me esta pasando.
He rips his gaze away from the man's hot body. He can't prevent the moan from slipping out his throat as the color spreads up to his torso, his thin, reedy stomach clenching in the world's most orgasmic cramp as thick abs force their way out. A few people stare but none with shock as he doubles over, hobbling as he can feel the muscle and fat building up in his core. The strength of it is undeniable as his waist thickens. More workouts stuffing themselves into his memory, his knowledge of coding and his time in college falling out of his mind, converting into testosterone rich soup as his balls pulse, sending it to his still thickening abs. Sweat drips down his forehead as he moans like he's being fucked. His abs thickening and widening, not many are visible beneath the thin layer of fat but he can feel them. He can feel the strength in his body multiplying as the sun begins setting.
His spine contracts painlessly, in fact, it makes his still growing cock spasm harder, ejecting a thin trickle of actual cum. It burns, but it feels so good. He loses a few inches in height, no longer needing a 6 in front of it as the displaced mass surges through his body, landing in his ass that he can't believe can get bigger. Landing in his thighs, his calves. Surging into abs as he tries standing and is disoriented by how much lower he is to the ground, his body compressing as the color travels upwards, spreading thick dark hair up his abs and in the center of his chest, nipples hard and prepared for the first surges of mass to land behind them and begin blooming his flat chest into being.
He shoots straight up as he feels a hand on his back. The musk hitting him right in the head and making him woozy, swaying on his feet.
"Everything okay, Danilito?"
Da - nilo feels his chest bloat and expand. His pink nipples darkening and becoming thick, sensitive nubs on his chest. Muscles tear and regrow bigger, covered quickly with a layer of fat that leaves his pecs large and jiggly, the skin stretching and oh so sensitive. Chest flies and bench presses erase the last few advanced courses he has in his memory, as well as any complicated intelligence, his brain becoming slower and denser. The giddiness returns tenfoldz wracking his body so hard he sways and leans against Christian's muscled arm, whimpering and whining as his cock tenses so hard he thinks he's going to cum. His bloated cock crests to eight inches as he feels every callous on Christian's palm as he traces down his back towards the bulbous curve of his ass, Danilo clenching his teeth as his girlfriends begin morphing in his brain. Their strap-ons becoming their actual cocks as their bodies inflate and expand into the muscle gods that he loves servicing, his throat loosening and becoming eager to take dick as his chest cleavage grows more pronounced.
When Christian's hands crest his ass, the sun sets fully into the horizon. His big, brown, beautiful cock surges harder and snaps the waistband. Danilo gasps in horror, a sticky puddle of pre forming at his feet as his cock constantly leaks.
He's keenly aware of how far his cock sticks out now, the thick bush of pubes. The balls which are so weighty, so heavy and filled with cum. He's aware of the fat curve of his ass as Christian perches his sunglasses on his head and whistles in admiration. His ass is so fat, so juicy. His hole tickling from the sudden exposure to the air. He smells something else, beneath the heady liquor of Christian's musk.
Not as powerful as Christian's, but more pronounced than his own musk was in his old body. It's the smell of a guy who works out regularly but not enough to get to the massive size Christian is. Enough to make his scent pronounced, there.
He shivers as the hair blossoms across his jugs, his shoulders widening and becoming denser. Back muscles inflating slowly but surely to make sure his tits are well balanced.
"Do you need to go lie down?"
The way Christian says lie down makes his cock literally seize, like there's a strong hand gripping it. Trying to milk it for all its worth. He's not sure how much more of this he can take. This constant edging, this denial of his orgasm.
But if he cums would that mean - ?
"Let's go up to my room, eh?"
His eyes dart wildly in fear. Jeremiah is beaming at him, giving him a thumbs-up. No, no, can't he see that his body is warping, changing right in front of him? Can't he see his jiggling ass and his cock swaying rigidly in front of him? Can't he see that he's nearly drooling, on the verge of tears, because he needs to cum so bad but he can't? Can't he see that the horniness he's feeling feels almost supernatural, like there's no way a person is supposed to function like this? Can't he see his tits surge forward as the skin color fully envelops his face and torso, his dark beard thickening and tickling pleasurably as he knows that the beard is eclipsing his sharpening jaw, his fattening, thickening, succulent pink lips, his eyes darkening into a deep brown and filled with lust and not much else as all of his knowledge is drained into the final dregs of growth that his chest requires, the nipples so hard and apparent that he might cum if he touches them?
Why is he still walking forward? Why does it have to feel so fucking good?
In the lobby, the elevator doors taunt him.
"P - p - por favor! Por favor, papi. I - I need ayuda."
His broad shoulders tan and darken, his ears pushing close to his face. Head shaving itself into a stylish cut. He sees his reflection and is shocked to see how hot he is. How handsome he's become, cock slinging webs of pre everywhere as he waddles to the elevator, Christian's hand right on his ass in a protective gesture.
Christian squeezes one fatty cheek and Danilo squeals.
"We can talk to Hugh," Christian says, a little concern in his voice.
Danilo's biceps inflate gradually. The muscles thickening and fattening. His biceps are strong and defined but nothing like Christian's boulders. These are vanity muscles. Muscles that he works out to keep himself toned and sexy, keep his body built for pleasure rather than aesthetics. Bicep curls and shoulder raises and lat exercises pop whatever brain cells and resistance he has left and drain them straight to his tight, swollen balls and out his dripping cock, the rest landing in his thickening biceps. Small tattoos mark themselves across his shoulder and both biceps. He clutches onto Christian's body for dear life. He's so close. So agonizingly close.
"Por favor! Papi. I'm going to cum!"
"No cumming in my lobby," Hugh says. He stands there dressed in a red velvet smoker's jacket with a toothpick in his mouth. "And talk to me about what? Something wrong, Danilo?"
Danilo's biceps finish their growth. The peaked muscle brushing against a nipple and making him jolt, burying his face in Christian's neck. In his old body, he'd be at eye level with the man. Now, he's barely at his shoulder, needing to get on his tiptoes to even get close to the musk pouring out of his pits. He's salivating at the thought of Christian's fat cock, the concentrated musk beneath his swimwear.
His mind spins like a film reel as his forearms thicken, whatever else that he can barely remember flooding into his palms and thickening fingers. His strong forearms sprout the same dark hair, his nails expertly manicured and hands perfect for gripping cocks. His own and others. He knows, dimly, in his soupy mind that if he gets into this elevator and goes to Christian's room and lets this man fuck him, he will lose himself. He feels his body filling out some more, shoulders and back widening. Abs thickening. Pecs becoming more defined. His balls pulsating urgently in warning, cock dripping and superseding all critical thought.
The elevator gets closer.
When was the last time he felt this good? This amount of sickening pleasure? His brain is on fire from how good everything is, feeling himself drain away. If he gets on, he'll feel like this forever. All this hot pleasure. All this sexiness. This growing confidence and vanity in his appearance. He checks himself out in the elevator doors, still clutching onto Christian as his cock brushes against Christian's muscled thigh.
"I'm fine, soy bueno, Señor Hugh."
He swallows in a brief flash of panic as the doors open.
"Okay," Hugh says, "just checking. Have fun ya horndog."
Christian steps on first. Danilo stands there, shaking in the lobby in both horny anticipation and mild fear.
Esto es todo. No going back.
His cock leads the way as he steps into the elevator. Once the doors shut, Christian wastes no time kissing him. Maybe it's the acceptance. Maybe it's the fact that his cock can't take anymore. Maybe it's just that the release is too fucking close for him to hold it back. Once Christian squeezes his ass roughly, his finger dangerously close to Danilo's sensitive hole, Danilo cums so violently he collapses in Christian's strong arms. Rope after rope of thick cum fires out of his cock and paints one of the walls. His cock constantly tenses and fires as Christian rubs his back and mumbles Spanish dirty talk in his ear. With each mind-shattering orgasm, any reservations, any evidence that Danilo was ever Davis, is reduced to boiling hot, sticky cum that drips down the wall and onto the floor.
"Lo - lo siento papi, I -"
Christian shushes him. "I think you've got some more in you," he says. "I'll make sure we get all of it."
His cock finally finishes and he stands on weak legs, hungrily kissing Christian. The strength of his body is delicious. The way he knows that his ass will be able to take anything that comes his way makes him even hornier. Forget being some boring IT guy.
By the following week, Danilo moves through Paradise as if he's always been there. When his ass needs filling (which is about three times a day), Jeremiah will take him in the staff room and Danilo's whorish moans make Jeremiah come harder than he's had in his tenure at the place. Especially not in his old body, that pasty white librarian that wouldn't hold a candle to the jock he's become.
He swims laps in the pool, showing off his powerful legs and loving the way his speedos cling to him when wet. He's a little too dumb to handle orders, forgetting them too easily and often just ogling the men who ordered them. He's lately just taken to being the resident eye candy, affectionate to the point of making out with his equally horny coworkers whenever he's on shift.
He breeches the surface and smells his Papi before he even sees him, on his lounger. Rubbing suntan lotion on his mountainous pecs. He clenches his thighs in an attempt to will his boner down before he swims over to the stairs. Can't have the water make him cum before Papi can get a taste. He steps out of the water, his muscles dripping seductively.
Papi smiles as Danilo walks towards him, his body jiggling in all the right places, before sliding on top of him and hungrily making out with him.
Hugh said something silly about going back and Danilo just shook his head in confusion. Go back to what? He's got all he needs right here. And he can feel one of the things he needs rising to full attention, nearly breaking the swimsuit Papi is wearing before wedging neatly between his beautiful ass.
