From the Archives: Win-Win (Patreon)

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Billy didn’t know that the Bluejays had learned of the bet, nor did he know that they’d cheated via supernatural means to ensure their victory during the match in question.  He didn’t know such a thing was even possible, let alone something to worry about.  He was blissfully unaware of the rival team’s plan to continue drawing on those same magical forces to permanently remove him from the equation.  The star swimmer just thought he was in for an embarrassing night in front of the team, a continuation of his earlier humiliation when he’d lost the match.  He had no way of knowing that things were about to change for all of them.  

The only reason he’d even agreed to the bet in the first place was because he thought he knew what he was up against.  Billy wasn’t being arrogant; he was the best swimmer on the team and was objectively better than what the Bluejays had to offer.  He should have been able to beat the other man without issue, and yet here he was, about to make a fool of himself in front of his friends and teammates.  Despite having carried the team to victory on multiple occasions, and never once boasting about it, the fit brunette knew more than a few of the guys were going to enjoy seeing him brought low.  They were envious of his naturally athletic build, and the ease with which he maintained his smooth, chiseled frame.  The fact that his speedo bulged the most, and that his handsome, statuesque features were talked about all over campus, only increased their envy.  They were all too happy to watch his broad shoulders carry them to first place, and they were just as eager to watch him humiliate himself.  

It was more the circumstances than the outcome that bothered the dark-haired hunk.  They all spent countless hours mostly naked around each other, as well as plenty of time baring all in the locker room and showers.  Billy wasn’t worried about showing off his chiseled, tapering frame to a bunch of guys who were already familiar with it; he just wished he knew how it was even happening in the first place.  

“Come on, man!  Don’t look so miserable.”  Billy turned at the hand on his shoulder and couldn’t help but smile back at Sam.  The dark-skinned hunk’s charm was as infectious as always, slicing through Billy’s sour mood.  “You got your song picked out?”  

“‘Songs’, unfortunately,” Billy sighed, taking the offered shot and throwing it back.  “I can’t believe you assholes are making me do this.”  

“No one ‘made’ you do shit, bud.  You’re the one who agreed to this,” Sam said, shimmying his shoulders.  “What’re you nervous about?  I know you got some moves in there.”  

Billy shook his head and gave a defeated laugh.  “I just don’t get it.  There’s no way he should’ve beat me.  None.  The Bluejays?  What the fuck, dude.  And now this?  From my own team?”  

“That’s what happens when you’re on top.  Always people waiting for you to fall.”  Sam lowered his voice and nodded to the crowd.  “Think of it this way...it’ll make ‘em feel better, right?  You let Owen have this, show him and the rest that you don’t really think you’re better than anyone, and maybe they’ll pick up some of the slack around here instead of letting you do all the work.  Turn a short-term loss into a long-term victory, you know?”  

“Someone’s been paying attention in their psych classes,” Billy said, giving an impressed nod.  His friend’s reframing actually did make him feel better, though he still wasn’t looking forward to the impending striptease.  

“So what’s the plan?  You wearing something sexy under here or are you just going full-frontal,” Sam said, sticking a pair of fingers into the waist of Billy’s shorts.  He tugged them away from the other man’s trim waist and started to peek inside before his friend swatted his hand.  

“You’ll just have to wait and see like everyone else,” Billy laughed.  On cue, there was a break in the music as Owen stepped up onto the makeshift stage at the front of the small house.  The smug blonde was the second best swimmer on the team after himself, and Billy watched his eyes zero in as he spread his toned arms while he spoke, parting the milling jocks like a sea.  

“Alright everyone...time for the night’s entertainment,” Owen cheered over the uproarious applause.  “After our stunning defeat yesterday, Billy here has graciously volunteered to lift our spirits with a performance.  As a reminder, this is just for the team, so no photos or videos allowed.”  Owen paused until the raucous booing died down, a mischievous grin spreading across his sharp, wolfish features.  “But, hey, we can’t afford security so it’s an honor system,” he winked as he motioned for Billy to step forward.  “What’s the word, stud?  You ready?”  

Billy took a deep breath and slowly walked to the front of the crowd, hoping his nerves wouldn’t show.  “You motherfuckers at least better have some singles ready,” he laughed, feeling like he was stepping up to the gallows as he climbed onto the rickety platform.  He blamed his nerves and the wobbly stage for his slight swooning when he turned around, a wave of dizziness washing over him.  The room seemed to sway and bend, and a shimmery gauze draped itself over the grinning, eager crowd, though it passed by the time Billy blinked and shook his head.  

It was an odd sensation, but the nervous hunk had more immediate concerns.  He raised his arms when the music started, flexing his chiseled biceps as he folded them behind his head and began strutting in a slow circle.  He couldn’t fight back a surge of crimson from flooding his face when the crowd began whistling and catcalling, and he was surprised at how much he enjoyed the sound.  Just like his blushing cheeks, Billy couldn’t help but grin as he toyed with the bottom of his t-shirt, slipping his hands underneath to grope his ripped washboard and protruding pecs.  The crowd cheered for him to take it off, but they were going to have to wait.  Like everything else he did, the disciplined jock was committed.  He wasn’t going to get up and strip down over the course of a three-minute song.  If they wanted a show, Billy was going to give them a whole routine.  

As with his own reaction, the swaying stud was surprised by the crowd’s.  As he flexed his arms and swiveled his hips it occurred to him that his teammates were perhaps paying too much attention.  Their eyes were glued to him not with amusement, but with a leering intensity that would have made Billy uncomfortable, if his attention hadn’t been pulled away by his groping palms.  While he’d been stroking his firm stomach he finally noticed the incongruous sensation of hair prickling against his hand.  Like the rest of the guys he kept himself shaved almost entirely smooth, and had just done a full-body manscaping the day before.  His washboard still should have been slick and clean but, as he slowly writhed out of his thin t-shirt, Billy found himself gawking down at a hairy navel.  A patch of chocolate fur had seemingly spilled out of his bellybutton, settling in a small pool at the base of his abs.  It was such an odd sight that it took him a moment to wrap his head around what he was looking at.  He was more or less naturally smooth, so even when he didn’t shave that wasn’t an area that normally sported a carpet.  

As jarring a discovery as it was, Billy was much more concerned with the fact that it appeared to be spreading.  It was as if he pumped more of the silky growth free with each thrust and sway of his hips.  Follicle by follicle, the creeping carpet began to stretch up the center of his rolling washboard, sending faint, peach-fuzz branches snaking off towards his sides.  Billy tried to stop dancing, but the shirtless stud quickly discovered that he’d been relegated to passenger status in his swaying, athletic frame.  He looked out at the group for help, hoping that someone else noticed what was happening.  

That hope was dashed immediately.  Like before, everyone still stared with lustful, lecherous intent, but unlike moments earlier, Billy saw that several of the guys had also removed their shirts.  And not only were many of his teammates bare-chested, they all stood a little too close.  A few even had their arms around each other.  Billy didn’t know what to make of things when he saw Jackson and Luke, both shirtless, with a muscled arm thrown over the other’s shoulder, while Dom stood behind Tucker, with his arms wrapped around the other man’s waist from behind.  The latter two weren’t shirtless yet, but Dom’s paddle-like hands had slipped up beneath Tucker’s shirt and appeared to be stroking the ginger’s shredded torso while the other man squirmed against him.  

It was clear to Billy that something impossible was happening, but he had no idea what it was or how to stop it.  The tendrils of hair had reached the bottom of his granite pecs, shooting out at the lower ridge to wrap around his pert little nipples before reaching up towards his shoulders.  Meanwhile, the main flow had settled as an increasingly dense diamond in the center, growing thicker and fuller until the valley between his muscled mounds had grown too full, causing the excess to splash over the rest of his heaving chest.  

Billy was desperate to stop dancing when he raised his arms again and found his lips connecting with a now-hairy bicep.  He’d been so focused on his torso that he’d failed to notice the fresh layer of chocolate torment spilling like a waterfall from the bottom of his shorts and stretching up his arms like fuzzy spandex.  His horror only grew when his flexing arms brought his hands in contact with the back of his suddenly-bare head.  Billy’s stomach dropped as he clutched at the formerly-thick mane, discovering a sparse, thinning layer of hair that seemed to recede even as he tried to hold it in place.  

He managed to let out a low groan, but no one could hear it over the pulsing music and his pursed lips only served to egg the lusty crowd on.  There was no mistaking their odd behavior as Billy now watched nearly all of them paw at each other, with several more in various states of undress.  Looking over at Dom and Tucker, Billy saw the now-shirtless redhead’s shorts wide open, with the other man’s hands thrust into the front of his briefs while he squirmed in time with the music.  Even the ones like Wyatt, who had yet to pair off, still openly kneaded their tented shorts or exposed underwear.  Though as shocking as it was, Billy was more concerned about the fact that he was about to join them.  Still rolling his now-furry abs, the formerly-smooth jock slowly undid his fly and waited for the shorts to drop, only for the straining fabric to stay in place.  

It was the first clue that his body was gaining more than a layer of hair.  While the crowd cheered and whistled, Billy wanted to scream.  He pulled down the now-tight shorts, revealing his black, tied-on bikini briefs, and groped at thighs that had become too thick and wide, his mind reeling when he actively felt his formerly solid rear expand and soften against his clutching hands.  It was as if undoing his shorts had opened the way for the excessive new flesh, and finally pushing them to his ankles was the signal for it to begin spreading in earnest.  

All Billy could do was watch in impotent horror as his roadmap of definition steadily vanished.  The new growth was still heavy and firm with muscle, but the once-lean swimmer’s tapering build inflated until he was broad and beefy.  Billy’s tight washboard was now a bulging muscle gut, his chiseled pecs a juicy slab beneath shoulders that had swallowed most of his neck while they clung to piston arms that hung at a slight angle.  Instead of a modest distance apart, Billy felt his trunk-like quads rub together as they thrust his equally squat package forward, the hairy globes in back now barely covered by the skimpy bikini.  As he pursed his lips and stroked his face, Billy couldn’t believe the wide, stubble-covered features were his own.  They felt more or less like the ones he was used to but like the rest of him he could tell they’d filled out, with the exception of the smooth, shiny scalp that had become entirely bald.  

By this point the crowd was going wild.  Billy watched as groups of his supposedly-straight friends made out, more interested in each others’ bodies than his own.  They split their attention as best they could, shifting their focus back to the stage when he began bouncing his overstuffed bulge and toying with an inflated nipple.  He reached around behind and wedged the pointless bikini into the valley between his hairy globes, giving the bouncing mountains a vigorous shake.  Billy didn’t understand how he knew which muscles to twitch to twerk the clapping cakes, or why he wasn’t flailing and uncoordinated in the heavy new frame.  As horrifyingly impossible as it should have been, it all felt perfectly natural.  

Everyone else seemed equally at ease with their odd behavior.  Even Billy didn’t question his own quivering lust at the many rigid, glistening rods he saw pointing at him from the writhing crowd.  It’s what he was there for, after all.  Having hooked up with Sam enough times, he knew what the swim team liked to get up to at their parties.  Everyone did.  That’s why he jumped at the bet when his wrestling teammates suggested that the loser had to attend one of the get-togethers as the entertainment.  Billy had even thrown the match on purpose.  He could have just told Sam and volunteered, but the setup, the pretense that he didn’t really want to do it, was a thrill all on its own.  

The gyrating hulk worked himself hard, momentarily surprised by the girth of his eight-inch beast.  He toyed with the strings that barely held the pointless underwear in place, his churning, hairy balls spilling free, but he stopped before untying the sides.  Instead, he reached down and grabbed Owen by a toned arm, pulling the man who normally organized these parties up onto the stage.  

Billy paused again as he had to look slightly up at the lean swimmer, confused as to why he thought he should be the taller of the two.  Owen stood an even six-foot, but Billy didn’t know why he thought his own branwy frame should be 6’3” instead of his usual 5’9”.  Given how early he’d started lifting weights his growth had been stunted since puberty.  Billy grew outwards, not upwards.  

He shook his head and focused his attention instead on the hard, slightly above average cock sticking out of the swimmer’s tiny briefs.  He gave the throbbing organ a few gentle tugs, much to the enjoyment of the crowd, before nodding down at his own tented underwear.  He shook his head when Owen started to reach for it and put his hands on the other man’s shoulders, guiding him to his knees.  He grinned at the crowd while the kneeling swimmer nuzzled his pouch, his mouth fumbling to grasp the thin strings.  He finally managed to clasp them between his teeth and pull, swallowing the fat club that bounced free as the reward for his efforts.  

Billy gasped as Owen bobbed, unsure why the sight of the smug blonde sucking away struck him as so surprising.  From what Sam had told him Owen was never happier than when he was choking on someone’s cock, and it showed in his technique.  Considering what the swim team got up to between their meets, Billy also knew the kneeling pretty-boy had plenty of opportunities to practice.  The wrestlers had their own wild antics, mostly spurred on by Billy, but they paled in comparison to the uninhibited explosion of flesh and desire that the swimmers brought to the table.  More so than skill in the pool, skill with another man’s cock was the real prerequisite for joining the team.  What the smooth young studs got up to was an open secret, but no one was going to complain or put a stop to it as long as they brought home the occasional trophy.  They weren’t as good as the Bluejays or some of the other teams, but they got by. 

The bald, brawny hunk pulled away before Owen could bring him to completion.  He batted his spit-slick rod against the handsome swimmer’s face and guided him back to his feet, but before Owen could step away, he spun him to face the crowd.  One of Billy’s hands shot into the back of the thinner man’s briefs while the other wrapped around his oozing cock and began stroking.  His teammates roared with laughter when Billy started pressing against the thinner man’s tight hole with one hand and pumping away with the other, eliciting a loud moan as Owen went up on his toes.  Billy kept the man’s rigid pole pointed towards the group, spraying them with the copious release that erupted moments later.  

Billy stripped the dazed man’s briefs entirely free as the crowd clapped and cheered, sending them winging across the room before giving Owen’s perky bubble a rough slap and ushering him offstage.  He followed behind, eager to get on with the real festivities.  Getting naked was just the start; the real entertainment came after.  Billy was once again momentarily confused as to why the sensation of the smooth jocks clutching handfuls of his ample hair struck him as foreign, but it passed as quickly as the others had.  

With the evening rapidly devolving into a flurry of groping grunts and lustful abandon, it occurred to Billy that next time he should suggest one of the other wrestlers take the bet.  He wasn’t the only stocky hunk on the squad, and a few of his teammates could stand to be loosened up by the eager swimmers.  It might cost them a match, but it would be a win for everyone in the end.