The Bet, ATE 21 (BAR) (Patreon)

(One... More...)

“Looks like that’s another win for me.” Bar laughed as he poked his buddy, who was sitting beside him.

“I feel like I’m close…” Luke grumbled, acutely aware that he’d lost the last twenty matches in a row, the win streak counter on Bar’s side of the screen making sure that he wouldn’t forget. 

“Right… well, it’ll have to wait until after dinner. I’m starving, dude.” Bar went to set his controller down, the plastic seconds from hitting a nearby nightstand until Luke stopped him.

“No, no! We’re going to keep playing, I’m legit one game from figuring you out, and I don’t want to get cold.”    

   Bar sighed loudly, understanding where his friend was coming from… growl.. but he was so hungry…

“Tell you what, I’ll give you another match on one condition.” 

“Say it,” Luke said seriously.

“The loser has to do what the winner says. No matter what.”

Bar's challenge was one of confidence, certain the outcome was preordained by the 20 wins he’d already obtained. But honestly, it didn’t really matter to Bar if Luke accepted or not. He just wanted to eat as soon as possible, but if Luke took the bet, he’d at least get free food. Bar snickered internally as he watched Luke consider it with hesitation… until, strangely… Luke’s face lit up.

“It’s a bet!” Luke stuck out his hand enthusiastically as Bar’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. Why the enthusiasm, he wasn’t getting conned, right…? 

“Okaaaaay…” Bar said, loosely shaking Luke’s hand. “Let’s do it then.” Whatever Luke had planned, Bar was confident it wouldn’t work. He was so much better than Luke that he could beat him with his eyes closed.

‘Maybe with your eyes closed, but what about with nails an inch longer and hands quite a bit smaller, hm?’ 

Bar shook his head at the thought that coursed through his head as Luke got to setting up the final match. 

Bar’s hands, which gripped the controller, suddenly felt like they’d just been placed in gloves, the plastic feeling weird under his hands, and his grip strange as the gloves began to squeeze. 

Bar’s handle on the controller slipped, his joints popping as his thick knuckles shrunk, and pulled his fingers with them. His digits slendered with his narrowing palms, the controller becoming unwieldy as his small hands struggled to wrap around its thicker feeling handles. Bar couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the hair on the backs of his hands fading into soft peachy skin while his nails turned pink, the tips pulling… pulling… pulling! To girly points that some stupid prissy chick might have! 

Bar was about to yell, his voice rising in his throat as his small hands struggled to readjust with such long pink nails scritching against the plastic, he had to call off the bet. Some crazy shit was– 

‘Oh, no, no. You’ll go through with the bet. And you’re certainly not going to scream…’  

Bar’s scream died in his throat, coming out only as a puff of air as he found himself unable to make any sound at all or move too well.

“All right. Are you ready?” Luke asked, having finished setting up the final match. I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” he said, laughing. 

Bar scowled looking at his prettied-up hands, his little thumbs resting uneasily on the buttons as he realized he’d have to push them flatly instead of with the tips like he was used to. Any attempt at his old habit met with a click of his long nails against the plastic… As fucked up as the whole thing was, he had to try. Whatever this inner voice of his was trying to do wouldn’t stop him from winning. He’d employ every dirty combo and move he knew in order to win.        

“Yep, ready.” 

Bar just about gasped realizing that he’d just been able to speak, and another look at his hands made him want to get Luke’s attention!

“Round One,” said the TV screen.

The round began, and Bar’s character suffered an instant hit, a chunk of his life bar blinking away in a red flash that signified the damage he’d taken. 

Bar yelped, and feet kicked as they jolted, that lost life crunching his feet in his socks with a shocking vibration that left them feeling lighter and most definitely smaller. More attacks were coming, so a glimpse of his small feet was all he managed as he focused on blocking. Luke’s offense was predictable. Attack, attack, attack. It was all he knew, and Bar knew how to play accordingly. 

Counter hit and launch.

Luke’s character left the ground as Bar internally celebrated his friend's predictableness and went for the next button in the combo but found his thumb coming up short and barely grazed the button he aimed to press… 

“S-shit!” 

 With the combo dropped Luke’s character was free to get off the ground and attack, landing another blow that ticked off a chunk of Bar’s life. Bar bounced in his chair as he felt his real body absorb the damage.

Soft fat rushed into his calves, making the part swell and round off into something truly juicy, bubbling behind his shins which pulled a little of that fat for themselves. His toes flexed as he involuntarily squirmed around, the feeling to him more like a pop that made his lower legs a little more bulbous as he did his best to block the onslaught of attacks from Luke. Luke’s strategy was the same, so Bar reacted in kind, even if the first attempt was a failure. 

Bar weaved in an attack to obtain another counter-hit and launched Luke into the air again. Bar made a more mindful effort this time, making sure his thumb traveled an adequate distance before he awkwardly pressed the button with the full pad of his thumb. He mashed each button in the combo sequence with a purpose, draining 50% of Luke’s health and set himself up for the finisher that would end the round. 

‘Wow, kind of unfair to deal that much damage… I’ll be taking that away from you.’  

The internal thought held little weight as Bar weaved in the same counter-hit and got ready to launch to get another 50% off Luke! 

…

“Wha–?”

Bar’s brow furrowed as the 50% he imagined came up much closer to twenty, the next button to press in the sequence escaping him as he mashed something random instead. 

‘W-why can’t I remember… s-shit!’

Bar couldn’t explain it, he’d just done the combo, but for some reason, he couldn’t even envision what it looked like let alone the proper buttons to press to make it happen! 

CRUNCH!

“AH! Pause the game!” 

Bar writhed as his knees suddenly knocked together upon taking damage once again, the burst of his hips sending panic through him as he shimmed in his chair. 

“No way! I’m about to get this round!” Luke cried as he pressed the attack. 

“You fuckhead!” 

Bar was pissed. Not only was he being assailed by changes he couldn’t control, but his friend seemed all the happier to inflict them upon him. He focused up and did the one thing he still knew how to do: weave his attacks in between Luke’s for constant counter hits. 

“Aghhhhhh!” 

“Damn it!” Luke yelled, his character letting out a scream of defeat upon losing the round. 

Winning the first round brought Bar the smallest amount of happiness, a grin finding itself on his face for a moment until the slightest adjustment in his seat brought him back to just how wide they’d become, the bony corners of his hips poking sharply through his skin… 

“Round 2”

The second round of the best of five started quickly, and Bar’s mind raced as he tried to talk to Luke again before the virtual fists started really flying.

“Luke, can we call this off please?! Something’s fucking happening to me!”

To his surprise, Luke ignored him and started to attack. Attacks that he promptly blocked. 

“H-Hey! Stop!”      

‘Oh, I wouldn’t bother trying to talk him into stopping. I already gave him the lowdown on what’ll become of you when he wins, and he was all for it.’ Bar’s internal voice taunted.

‘W-what?! Then I won’t let him win!’ Bar quickly responded. 

Bar’s determination rose as he prepared to employ his last round-winning tactic: wait for a gap, then counter-hit. Bar waited, weathering the storm of attacks that looked eerily similar to the last round, but they looked so fast now! Where was the gap!? 

‘Oh… you can’t see them anymore?’ The inner voice heckled.

Bar’s face stretched in a grimace. H-he couldn’t see the gaps. How was he supposed to attack without taking damage if he couldn’t see them?! 

‘F-fine, I’ll just block then!’ 

If the in-game clock hit zero without either player taking damage, both players would win, and since Bar was up a round, he’d win the match after two draws! With his mind made up, he blocked, the sixty-second timer ticking down to one, to zero!

“Draw”

Bar breathed in relief, his body escaping the changes as Draw lingered on the screen.

‘Sounds like the player who actually tried to play the game should win if the other doesn’t even try to fight back.’

‘So what’s that mean?’ Bar asked, looking nervously at the screen.

‘It means you lose.’  

“OH GOD!”  Bar yelled and started to thrash, his legs squirming and kicking as his cock suddenly grew painfully erect, throbbing in his shorts as fat pumped into his legs and ass. He gripped at his legs, rubbing away hair and pushing his long pink talons into flesh that pushed back, feeling his ass squish and spread into his seat while his thighs bloated and squeezed his balls and rod tightly between two walls jiggling mass. His chest heaved in panic as his balls puckered between them, feeling them slip and worm toward his groin until they hit something. 

He screamed as he came, his cock pumping a stream of cum into his shorts as his balls bounced against the small opening they both were trying to slither through. Bar’s yells became ragged as he twisted, feeling each twist wobble his legs and ass with unfamiliar movement as he felt something pop and send another burst of cum rushing out his member. 

“LUUUUKE HEEEELP!” Bar begged his friend to assist in some way, whatever way that would save his other testicle from puuuuuuuuuhhhhhhlinnnnnng~! “AHHhHHHHHH!” More cum poured from his flexing cock as his second ball was dragged into him, his groin tight as his soiled garments greedily soaked up every ounce and squeezed against his thrumming member. Bar desperately pulled on his shorts and underwear that were tightening and turning pink around his plush thighs, wedging between his thick cheeks and crushing his dick into him.

The head of which felt like it was right on the brink! 

His pretty pink nails pinched on the fabric, stretching it as far as it would go as the little bulge that was left pulsated beneath. 

“Round 3”

Bar watched helplessly as Luke pummeled his character on the screen unimpeded, the fabric starting to slip from his fingers as his waist began to jump and small losses of life strained at his sides. 

SNAP! SLURP!

Bar cried with the defeated throes of his character and jerked forward as the fabric snapped against his dicklet with such force it sent it inverting, the folds blossoming while his lower back snapped with the movement and his waist sucked to a flat feminine core.

“Round 4” 

Bar dropped to the floor and crawled his jiggling ass to where he’d flung his controller. He scrambled for it, ultimately arriving too late as Luke’s attacks came quickly, the damage pulverizing Bar’s frame to the point where movement was impossible, his muscles sinking beneath svelte limbs as his shoulders and torso narrowed, the most Bar could muster being thrashes of agony as he gyrated his wide hips on his knees while what muscle he had was sucked from his top half. The arms that supported him quivered as Bar’s health ticked away, each tick pulling at his nipples, making them stiffen and poke, and sending a burst of growth from his hair as his dirty blonde bleached pink like a cherry blossom as it ruffled around his ears and rapidly descended his head. 

“Luke! I-I don’t want to be a–! Blump Blump kyaaaa~! 

There was no mercy as Bar’s chest heaved forward, the neckline of his shirt plummeting as did the bottom hem, covering what little of his ass that it could as his tits bounced out, jiggling loosely in the large opening as bursts of fat swelled them bigger and bigger, the damage bursting forth in the worst way as the balloons squished against the neckline and bubbled out in wobbling cleavage that bounced around with Bar’s movements as his back was consumed by the extraordinarily long pink mane that sprung into wavy curls the longer the strands got. 

“HAHA, I did it!” Luke celebrated.

Bar’s face blushed red as the sensitive weights knocked into each other below him, the defeated screams of his character howling loudly as his own throat strained, a firm grip on his windpipe pushing out a low confused groan that turned into a sensual feminine whimper as he forced out a breath of air through his narrowing neck, his face twitching as his eyes sprung bigger and rounder, eyebrows thinner, both transitioning to pink like his hair. He gasped as his hand darted up to his swelling cheeks and shrinking nose, his long nails playing on the soft bubbles as his lips pressed tightly together, his jaw grinding as both suddenly popped into shape. 

‘Have fun with the bet you just lost, bar.’

“Ohhh baaaaar! Be a doll and stand up and face me, will ya?” Luke said with a pleased-as-punch tone, truly relishing the moment as Bar’s body took control and quickly moved him to his feet, his massive tits bobbling around in his low-cut blouse dress as his body swung in the direction of his smug “friend”. Bar was shocked at his responsiveness to his friend's order a silent rage swelling as he stood, taking in the new center of gravity that came with his massive curves. 

“Now that you have to do whatever I say, I think you should seduce me… With… a super slutty attitude before we hit the sack.” 

Bar’s swelling rage suddenly popped as his hips cocked off to the side, his body language changing as thoughts of his best friend's cock filled his mind, the sweet taste of the many before it arousing him as he leaned forward and pointed to his chest that jiggled with the movement. “Heh heh, seduce you, big boy?” 

Luke wasn’t prepared for such a shift as the changed Bar closed in and held her tits inches from his face, teasing him as she slipped a long fingernail in and peeled back the already loose cloth to give him full view of her perfect tit. “I don’t think I’ll have to try very hard the way you’re drooling already…”