The Carnival, Part 1 (Patreon)

***** This is a collab story with the ever-talented ChaoticDjinn.  If you aren't already following him, be sure to check out his page!  http://www.patreon.com/ChaoticDjinnv2 *****

The four young men had no idea where they were.  It was a new experience for all of them.  In the constantly connected world they’d grown up in, the thought that you could actually be lost, without a cell signal or data reception, was a foreign concept.  Yet here they were, driving down a nameless state route, with a quickly darkening sky overhead and thick, swampy forest on either side.  

They were on their way back to the west coast to start the Fall semester and had what seemed like a good idea at the time of making their return into a road trip.  The first day had been fun, the second less so, and the third had been a disaster so far.  A massive accident on the interstate caused their GPS to reroute them through the back roads.  They’d all done it countless times in the city and never imagined one of those back roads would lead them deep into the swampy wilderness, somewhere between Mississippi and Oklahoma based on the last signs they’d seen, and well out of cell range. Their phones were useless.

Gavin, the unfortunate one who’d pulled the disastrous driving shift, did his best to turn in what he thought were the right directions, but after two hours of deepening swampland it became clear they were hopelessly lost.  

“Where the fuuuuuck are we?!”  Brett stared into the dismal forest from the passenger seat.  

“God’s Country,” Adam sighed from the backseat before breaking into his best impression of “Dueling Banjos.”  

“If one of you assholes wants to get up here and drive I won’t stop you,” Gavin said defensively.  His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.  

“Chill dude, we’re just fuckin’ with ya,” Brett said calmly.  “We’ve still got, what,” he leaned and looked over at the dashboard, “more than a third a tank of gas?  We’ll hit a gas station or something eventually.  We have to.”  He turned and grinned at the slumbering giant in the backseat.  “Of course Eric’s slept through all of this.”  

“Doesn’t he always?  He’s been farting up a storm back here too,” Adam said, his head dropping back against the headrest.  “At this point I’ll settle for just getting out of the car.  I don’t care where we are.”  

“Same,” Gavin said, twisting his head to stretch his neck.  The four athletic young men were used to moving around and having outlets for their excess energy.  When they’d thought about the road trip, the reality of hour after hour in the car didn’t occur to them. “Anything on the phone?”  

Brett looked at his and shook his head.  “Nope.”  

“Zero signal,” Adam said from the backseat, looking at both his and Eric’s phones.  “Jesus it gets dark fast out here…” 

What little sunlight that remained had vanished like someone flipped a switch.  One second there was a faint, amber glow, and the next it was just pitch black.  

“Aren’t there bears out here?”  

“Dude, don’t start,” Brett said, giving Adam a stern look.  “Besides, there’s already one sleeping next to you.”  

“I’m the fastest out of all of you, so I don’t need to worry,” Gavin smirked from the driver’s seat.  “Isn’t that how the saying goes?  You don’t have to outrun the bear, you just have to outrun your friend?  Owww!”  He winced when Adam reached up from the backseat and flicked his ear.  

“So what you’re telling me is I should take out your knee, THEN run,” Brett said, patting Gavin’s toned thigh. 

Gavin pulled his leg away and sighed, staring off into the darkness in front of them.  The faded yellow line painted on the road was hypnotic, adding to the surreal atmosphere.  Even the night sky was obscured by the oppressive canopy of trees and vines.  They might as well have been in a submarine; their car a tiny, single dot of illumination in the inky darkness.  

“Hey, dude, are you seeing that?”  Brett slapped Gavin’s shoulder, causing him to jump.  

“Fuck!  Don’t startle me like...oh, shit, finally!”  Like a hidden desert oasis, it came out of nowhere.  The pitch black surroundings were shattered by a bright halo of electric, blinking lights.  

“Whaaaaaaat the fuuuuuuuuck,” Brett said under his breath, looking up at the rusted, weathered sign.  Half of the lights were burnt out and the constant humidity had eaten holes through the metal in several spots.  “Creighton County Carnival & Motel”, the sputtering lights of the sign read.  

The gravel parking lot crunched under their tires as Gavin pulled up in front of the free-standing house that served as the main office and small store.  There was a set of gas pumps at one end of the lot and a series of single-level, connected rooms that made up the motel at the other.  And as the sign promised, punched back into the swampy forest behind it all was a small carnival.  

“Well, at least this isn’t SUPER creepy or anything.”  Adam nudged Eric awake and looked at the smattering of other cars pulled into the lot.  Some seemed rusted in place while others looked like they’d just pulled off the road.  

“It’s just one of those ‘roadside attractions’.  Probably did a bang up job back in the days before the interstate.  I’m surprised it’s still hanging on….but we didn’t exactly pass a whole lot out here,” Brett said, taking in the scene.

“Mmm...fuck are we?”  Eric yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Lost as hell.”  Gavin turned to look at his three friends.  “Alright...what’s the plan?  Keep going?  Check it out?” 

“We should get gas if nothing else,” Brett said.  

“And I need to stretch my legs.”  Adam was the first out of the car, groaning and stretching his long, lean body in the warm, muggy night air.  The rest followed suit, listening to the faded strains of carnival music drifting from behind the buildings.  

“So who’s doing the talk…” Brett was cut off by a trio of “not it” from his friends.  “Oookay,” he sighed, annoyed.  “But I’m not going in alone.”  

The office was still lit, so they tentatively pushed open the screen door and walked into the renovated living room.  A small cooler and a few racks of snacks lined one wall, and a long desk extended out from the other.  Brett rang the smudged, silver bell and they waited in nervous silence.  

“Well, this is somethin’ we don’t get much of nowadays,” a short, heavy-set woman came around the corner.  Her round frame was covered in a green plaid shirt and worn, baggy overalls.  Her ruddy complexion and weathered skin, coupled with her short stature, made guessing her age next to impossible.  Her long, gray hair gave the suggestion of age, but her eyes and general demeanor seemed bright and friendly.  “Let me guess - you fellas are lost?”  

“Very,” Brett said, smiling awkwardly.  “We got routed off the interstate…”

“Oh, yeah, nasty accident I hear,” she nodded.  “Heard about it on the radio.  Yes, radio, the ol’ fashioned kind. You probably learned real quick cell phones aren’t so good out here,” she said with a dismissive wave.  

“I take it this happens pretty often,” Brett asked.  The woman’s easy smile was disarming.  

“Often enough,” she said, looking the four of them over.  “You boys look like you’ve been driving for a while.”  

“Since five this morning.  And for the past two days,” Gavin said.  “We’re heading back to California for school.”  

“You look like city boys,” she said, grinning and shaking her head quickly.  “I don’t mean nothin’ by it, just that we grow ‘em bigger out here.”  She looked over at the drowsy, lumbering Eric and cocked her head, “‘cept for you, young fella,” she laughed.  

“Can you give us directions back to the highway?”  The change in her expression didn’t make Brett feel hopeful.  

“Sure can, but I’ve got good news and bad news.  Bad news is you’re lookin’ at another four hours of driving.  About six years ago they closed down the closest on-ramp when they expanded the road.  Not enough traffic to make it worthwhile, they said.  Next one is clear over on the state line,” she said sympathetically.  “The good news is that you managed to find your way to one of the oldest, free-standing motel and carnivals in the south!  You boys should’a seen this place in its prime.  She’s a little rough around the edges these days, but who isn’t?”  She gave a long, loud laugh at her own joke.  “I’ll cut you boys a deal since you’re havin’ a rough time of it.  Seventy five for a room with two doubles and I’ll throw in admission to the carnival.  Or I can gas you up and you can keep goin’.”  

“Give us one minute,” Brett said, turning to his friends.  

“Dude, I do NOT want to get back in that car tonight,” Adam said flatly.  

Gavin nodded in agreement.  “Four more hours just to the highway?  Of pitch black swamp?  With no cell phones?  I say we crash here.” 

Eric, not fully awake yet, just shrugged his broad shoulders.  

“Okay,” Brett said, turning back to the counter, “looks like we’re staying.”  

“Wonderful!”  The woman clapped and pulled out a ledger.  “We’re all adults, right? State law says I have to ask,” she said as an aside.  

Brett motioned to the group as he spoke.  “We’re all 22, except for the big guy...he’s 23.  Do you need IDs?”  

“Nah, I trust ya.  You boys’ll be in room 7.  Here’s the key.  We’ll settle up in the morning.  Need me to show you the way?” 

Brett shook his head.  “No, thank you.  We can find it.”  

“Once you’re settled, make sure you head back and check out the carnival.  There’s food and beer back there if you’re hungry.”  She waved them off as they left and made their way over to the row of connected rooms.  There were cars in front of several, but the rooms themselves seemed dark.  

Brett unlocked the door and flipped on the light to reveal two small beds with a night stand in between them.   There was no phone or television, but the small bathroom at least had a toilet and what looked like a camping shower.  The walls were covered in faded yellow and green striped wallpaper that was peeling at the top and clashed with the dirty brown carpet.  

“At least it’s not a fuckin’ car,” Adam said as he flopped down onto one of the beds, the springs squeaking loudly under his weight.  

“So, uh, do we wanna check out that carnival?  I’m starving.”  Eric finally spoke, rubbing his wide, solid stomach.  

“Not much else to do,” Gavin shrugged.  

They filed out of the room and made their way through the mosquito filled parking lot back to the carnival.  There was a tall, bright red archway covered in blinking lights that were mostly burnt out.  A rickety ticket booth stood in the middle having long since been abandoned.  The few other people they could see were a truly mixed lot.  One couple, who looked about their age, looked like they’d walked straight out of the 1960s.  The man was wearing a plaid polyester suit with pomade-slick hair, and the woman had on a bright, floral print dress and a Jackie O haircut.  As they made their way further in, they passed another group, all of them probably 18 or 19, who were dressed in bright, 1980s new-wave clothes.  They saw some people who looked like greasers, some who looked like 90s ravers, and a few that seemed more contemporary.  None of the groups seemed to be talking to each other, and at one point a young man had gone running past them, a terrified look on his face.  When Adam turned around to see where he’d run off to, he was gone.  

The few employees they’d seen fit the traditional “carny” mold.  Pale skin, greasy hair, unkempt appearance, probable felonies; they generally seemed like the type of people you wouldn’t want to be alone with.  They all made aggressive eye contact as the group passed, leering with almost predatory smiles.  

“I smell a grill,” Eric said, seemingly oblivious to the bizarre surroundings.  

“Are you serious, you’re honestly thinking about food right now?” Asked Adam, his stomach doing a queasy little flip at the thought of greasy carnival food. The obligatory road trip jerky and Red Bulls had made his stomach less than pleased with his life choices.

“I’m always thinking about food man, you don’t get this big by eating salads.” Replied Eric, flexing an impressively muscled if somewhat pudgy bicep at his less ursine friend.

“I keep telling you, keep eating like you do and you’re going to wind up a lard ass in your thirties, second puberty is real...hey it’s already starting.” Goaded Adam, poking a finger into the slight layer of hairy pudge that hid what would have otherwise been an impressive set of abs.

“Pfft, whatever, i’m gonna be this hot forever. Ladies like em thick and furry, and I plan on giving the people what they want.”  Adam chuckled softly as Eric pulled out an overly dramatic double gun flex, grunting and straining his face in mock effort.

“Ok, if you two ladies are done flirting or whatever that was, do we want to check this place out or what? Not that standing around bantering isn’t fun, but hey, when in rome. Let’s ride some rides of something.” Interjected Gavin, eager to be up and about after his long and white knuckled stretch as the group's de facto driver.

“You guys do what you want, I’m fuckin’ starving.”  Eric sniffed at the air, zeroing in on the charcoal scent.  “This place isn’t that big...I’ll come find you guys.  Anyone want anything?”  

The other three shook their heads, looking at their large friend like he was crazy for even thinking about eating whatever passed for food in this swampy, run-down pit.  

Adam shuddered at the thought.  “You know you’re probably going to get fried possum or something, right?” 

“Fried is fried.” Eric shrugged.

“Ok, so while Eric enjoys his inevitable food poisoning do the rest of you want to hit some rides?” Asked  Gavin

“I’m down for it. A quick spin on the tilt a whirl might make for a relaxing change of pace after your driving.” Chuckled Brett, artfully dodging a punch thrown by Gavin.

“I think I’ll just walk around for a bit, stretch my legs and shit.” Replied Adam, not too keen on resuming a sitting position so shortly after leaving the car.

“Ok man, come  find us if you see anything worthwhile.” Said Gavin, heading off towards the small collection of rides with Brett in tow.  

Adam shuffled slowly down the path before him, the soles of his worn out runners sinking slightly into the damp ground with an unpleasant pattern of repeated squelching. Booths and rides rose up on either side of him in various states of disrepair. The peeling paint and half flickering lights of the poorly kempt attractions sent a queer and unwelcome chill through his well-toned body. No matter how he tried he couldn’t seem to shake the sensation that the booths were somehow watching him. He did his best to push the thought from his head as he looked between the dilapidated structures, deciding if anything was worth a closer look. Still the sensation nagged at him. He was almost sure that if he stopped and listened hard enough he could hear it over the lilting carnival music: The sound of soft and steady breaths, pausing before exhaling as if fixed in rapt anticipation. He gave his head a hard shake, forcing the ludicrous thoughts from his head with all his might. It was only a rundown carnival just past twilight, creepy by nature sure but nothing for a guy his age to worry about.

He was just about to turn around and walk back to the center of the carnival when he saw it, a bright glimmer in the corner of his eye, drawing his gaze from the myriad of softly flickering carnival lights.

“Hou e of Mi r rs”

Much like its dilapidated brethren the flickering sign above the dusty attraction was missing several illuminated letters, and those that remained looked to be not too far from the fate of their fully darkened family. The glint that caught his eye shone out over them all, flickering like a single star amongst a sea of aged fireflies.

“What the hell? Haven’t gone through one of these since I was a kid.” Mumbled Adam taking an all too wet step towards the beckoning building.

He let out a sigh of relief as his feet made purchase on the solid, if somewhat rickety wood of the little mirrored house, glad to be rid of the unsettling squelching sensation of the ground outside. As he made his way into the attraction proper the strange sense of being watched disappeared from the back of Adam’s mind, the waking eyes closing their lids once more, he had made his choice.

The inside of the small building was set up just as Adam remembered from the carnivals of his childhood. A maze of partly transparent glass leading back into the recesses of the attraction with what looked like little stopping points with various bent and angled mirrors. If memory served correctly there would be a room of nearly all mirrors at the end of the little maze, his reward for having navigated the Plexiglas labyrinth. Finding his way to his prize didn’t look as if it was going to be much of a challenge though. Most, if not all of the little Plexiglas walls were streaked and stained with grime and dust, rendering them much more opaque than would be desirable for the point of the little game. Still, Adam couldn’t help but step forward with a sense of giddy excitement, the drab little attraction triggering a long since forgotten sense of wonderment from his times as a child at the county fair.

While striding carefully onward the sense of unbridled nostalgia began to darken slightly as the strange sensation of being watched crept over Adam once again. Previously it felt as though many half drooping eyes were lazily following him through the midway, paying him only the slightest bit of attention. The feeling this time however was much more direct and focused, as if one pair of eyes rather than many, were fully fixed on his path through the dusty little attraction. and it was beginning to make the hair on his arms stand on end. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that there was actually no eyes on his back, and he did his best to shake the thought from his head.

After taking an abrupt right to avoid the smudged glass directly before him Adam found himself in the first little side room with proper carnival mirrors.  Much like the Plexiglas all around him the reflective surface of the mirrors were clouded and in desperate need of a dusting. They still did their job though, displaying several comical versions of the fit blonde college student within their twisted confines. In one his perfectly proportioned body was stretched out to ludicrous heights, while the one immediately beside it seemed to elongate his forehead while scrunching his body down, making him look ridiculously stacked and somewhat simian.  

Chuckling he made a few apelike motions, ooking and scratching his armpits, watching as his stretched out reflection did the same. He was just about to turn around and make his way deeper into the maze behind him when a little flicker caught his attention from the corner of his eye.  A mirror stood just to his right, where he had sworn an empty space had rested just moments ago. Its polished surface was free of dust and grime, shining with a brilliant radiance amongst its dingy brethren.

Adam’s mouth hung agape as he walked up to the strangely immaculate surface, his mind racing in an attempt to rationalize the sight he saw before him. There he was standing in the mirror but instead of the casual polo and comfortable jeans he was wearing a mesh crop top and a pair of white skin tight short shorts, the outline of a bright red thong clearly visible through the delicate looking fabric. The face in the mirror matched his shock exactly, but that was where the similarities ended. In place of his strong, stubbled chin and broad nose a smooth and soft jawline stared back at him, topped by a mop of spiked platinum blonde hair. A confused mixture of a cry and a scream failed to sound from his chest, catching just before his bright red lips covered in shiny lip gloss.

In hurried desperation Adam’s sizeable hands made their way over his body, feeling the curves and bulges of his fairly average yet admirable form. His heart began to race as he stared at his reflection with increasing disbelief, pulling lightly at the hair beneath his shirt while watching his phantom reflection mimic the movement over its hairless crop top clad torso. He wasn’t the faggy looking boy in the mirror! It was just a trick! A very convincing, very confusing trick. He walked up to the mirror tentatively reaching forward, ready to pull his hand back at the slightest sign of trouble. When his hand found purchase against the shining pane of glass he noticed that much like the ground outside, it felt somehow squishy, as if it were less than solid but more than liquid, an ephemeral and pulsing taffy. He felt sure that if he pressed into it hard enough it would pop like an overly thick soap bubble and send him falling forward, but into what he did not know, and he didn’t feel like finding out either. With his hand still pressed against the strange pliable glass a shiver traveled through the slumbering attraction and radiated up his body, shaking him to the very core. Something was waking up.

Listening to his gut Adam quickly pulled his hand away from the mirror, turning on his heels and heading back down the path leading towards the entrance of the strangely shifting attraction. He didn’t make it more than a few steps back however before he collided face first with a sheet of perfectly clear Plexiglas, sending him ricocheting back onto his ass with a resonant thud.  He scrambled to his feet in an instant, pawing at the newly formed frame of glass...he was absolutely sure that it was the way he had come from, and even if it wasn’t he knew for a fact that none of the panes of glass in the worn out attraction were anywhere near as clear and immaculate as the one before him. Yet despite what he knew, the found himself completely blocked by the sudden appearance of the fully solid material. Going back wasn’t an option, he felt it in his gut the same way animals seemed to know when a natural disaster was on its way, he needed to keep going forward.

Every fiber of his being wanted to break out into a sprint and dash forever from the strange little attraction, but he managed to rein his primal fear in, telling himself that running in a house of mirrors, even one with such dingy glass was a recipe for disaster. His footsteps echoed loudly through the otherwise empty attraction, their pitch striking somewhere between an echoing clomp and a wet and muffled squelching unbefitting of the firm wood beneath his feet. He pulled absentmindedly at the collar of his tight pink polo as he tromped onwards. With every step he couldn’t help but wondering in the back of his mind why the air around him seemed to be growing warmer and more damp by the second, but unable to bring himself to think about the answer properly.

After several minutes of walking towards where he was sure the exit should have been Adam stopped to catch his breath and look around properly, his eyes having been fixed dead ahead on his path. He had been too terrified to catch another glimpse of an unearthly version of himself reflected back as he passed another highly polished mirror. What had started out as a small and dingy little cube had somehow seemingly turned into a veritable labyrinth of twisting and turning corners, stretching out into darkness as far as his eyes could see.

“Just keep walking, don’t stop and don’t go back man...you’ll find your way out and everything will be fine. Everything will b-.”

Adam’s voice caught in his throat as he rounded the corner before him, finding himself standing in the middle of a circular room full of perfectly polished and shining mirrors. He had been able to see around the corner before he had taken it, and it didn’t lead anywhere other down another empty Plexiglas lined wall. Pulling another one eighty on the spot Adams heart fell as his eyes confirmed what his heart had already known, the path he had taken was nowhere to be seen, blocked off completely by more sheets of clear glass. There was only the circular room of mirrors and uncertainty before him.

Much to his relief the reflections all around him were that of his proper and true form. Broad, masculine, stuffed into a slightly too small polo to show off his long earned gym body, just what he was used to seeing every day for the entirety of his adult life. His relief was not to last however as one by one the reflective rectangles began to fill with smoke, thick and grey and all obscuring. One by one the reassuring reflections were lost to the grey smoke leaving the toned jock standing surrounded by shimmering slabs of grey, the bounds of the glass containing the swirling smoke that laid within.

“Ok, there’s got to be a way out of here. One of the mirrors must slide out or something...just calm down, try them one at a time and it will be fine, everything will be fine.” Rambled Adam, his own voice somehow reassuring to his keenly focused ears.

He strode forwards towards the closest mirror and stopped just inches from its surface, peering into its misty form in desperation, looking for any sign that the mirror moved or slid, or otherwise concealed a path out of the darkened nightmare. A deafening thud echoed through the expansive attraction and Adam once again found himself stumbling back and falling on his ass with a painful crack. Before him a massive form had slammed its way against the other side of the mirror pressing its ample heft against the creaking glass.

It was him once more, or at least, some strange funhouse version of himself. This time however there was no embarrassing outfit, no red thong or skinny twinky body; No, this time he was buck naked and at least twice the size he was now, a round and hairless gut with huge jiggly tits pressed and squeaking against the glass to a brutal rhythm as something seemed to ram his reflection from behind. Adam looked on in horror at his pudged out self, its eyes rolling up in the back of its head, mouth opened in a silent “O” as its huge gut and round man tits slammed and squeaked against the confines of the mirror.

A third and fourth hand suddenly slammed against the mirror, sending a visible rattle through its brittle frame. A thick and familiar class ring wrapped around the ring finger of the newly appeared hand, its cold hard metal grinding against the glass in an ear splitting squeal. Adam scrambled quickly to his feet, turning away from the horrible reflection and the man he knew to be behind it. He dared not to get another inch towards the disgusting doppelganger and turned his attention to the mirror directly across it instead.

The smoke obscuring Adam’s reflection faded rapidly at his cautious approach, revealing to his great relief, his regular form, clad in its casual jeans a smiling face. Despite its similar appearance to the stunned college student the reflection before him set Adam’s teeth on edge, it’s Cheshire grin standing as a stark contrast to his own horrified expression. Slowly and sensually the seemingly mundane reflection lifted off the bright pink polo hiding it’s well sculpted body, quickly moving a hand over to rub at one of the hard dime sized nipples atop its modest pecs. Gaze still fixed on the phantom reflection Adam’s eyes widened as he watched twin carefully remove his blue jeans to the sway of silent music, dropping them around his ankles and exposing a pitifully hard one inch pecker. Adam’s hands quickly leapt to his own cock, relaxing rapidly when they found purchase against his soft five inch fuckstick, hanging to the left just as it always did.

“It’s just a reflection, or some kind of fucking projection...don’t worry man, it’s not real.” Mumbled Adam, holding onto his own words like a talisman against the mirrors and their disgusting display.

Still his eyes remained focused on the little reflective rectangle as his carrot dicked counterpart began to move one of its solid and masculine hands up to its mouth, briefly sucking on four of its bunched up fingers. Its grin spread somehow wider as it slowly ran its spit soaked hand down its torso, tracing the ridges and ripples of his modest pecs and respectable abs. In one fluid motion the hand disappeared behind the reflections ass and a silent moan escaped its lips as its spit soaked fingers disappeared quickly up its tightly muscled ass.

Turning from the terrible reflection the horror in Adam’s eyes grew rapidly. Across the circle of mirrors, the mirror containing the pigged out version of himself was shaking with increased force while several hairline spider web cracks began forming in each of the corners. Adam suddenly realized just what he had to do to leave horrible little room: He needed to choose, or the choice would be made for him. Quickly he walked the length of the circle, taking note of each of his warped reflections. In one he was dressed in nothing more than leather jock strap and nipple crossed harness, his hair streaked with grey, bull whip clenched in hand as naked Brett licked at his bare feet. In another he was a hulking beast of a man, huge dinner plate pecs and descended roid gut shaking furiously as he jerked his sizeable cock. Adam had almost chosen his roided-out reflection before he saw his twin’s o face and noticed the veritable torrent of cum pour from his puffy swollen nipples. Disgust hit his stomach in a hard wave as he watched his bodybuilding self lap down furiously at its own cum stained tits.

Adams breath was ragged as he ran around the circle of mirrors, unable to pick a horrible fate to inflict upon himself, but desperate to not let the splintering pig mirror become his reality.

THUD

The pig mirror was spidering from all four corners, traveling with haste towards the center. He needed to make a decision.

THUD

The splinters had met up and formed one giant crack in the center of the mirror. The smell of manly sweat and cum pouring through the newly formed hole on an otherworldly breeze.

He needed to choose!

THUD

A large shard of glass fell to the floor and shattered to pieces as a thick arm reached into the house of mirrors, the moans and squeals of the other world pouring through the widening hole. He had to make his choice!

Adam held his breath and dashed headlong to his right, covering his head with his arms before slamming into the thin sheet of glass before him. A deafening crash echoed through the deserted house of mirrors, cutting abruptly to the sound of silence, gently falling shards of glass and the slow stirring of something ancient rousing from its slumber.

**********

While Adam had gone off to stretch his legs and Gavin and Brett risked their lives on the rickety looking rides, Eric went on the hunt for food. He'd been able to smell a grill, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Usually he was a bloodhound when it came to that; his huge frame required constant fuel, and he was a pro at finding it.  But it kept moving. There was a steady, repetitive breeze that seemed to be shifting it around, and every time he felt like he was getting close it would fade. 

He’d left his friends at the entrance and made his way around the corner, surprised to see that the carnival extended deeper into the woods than he’d originally thought.  He could have sworn it was just a small, circular lot, but now he was staring at a long alley lined on either side by games and treacherous looking rides.  He lumbered past most without giving them a second glance, his stomach leading the way.  The games were all rigged anyway, he told himself.  

“Wish I’d have brought some bug spray,” he muttered under his breath, swatting yet another mosquito away from the bowling ball he called a shoulder.  His exposed, burly arms hanging out of his tanktop were like a beacon for the bloodsuckers.  

“They know a meal when they see it!”

Eric slapped a straggler away from his thick neck and turned to see a group of guys laughing at his futile attempts.  They looked like they’d become unstuck in time.  Each of them was wearing tight blue jeans, cuffed at the bottoms around their matching black boots, and all sporting the same plain white t-shirts.  They all had thick, wavy pompadours that glistened with pomade under the dismal string of lights lining the alley.    “I wish I did,” Eric said, laughing awkwardly while the group of men sized him up.  “You guys don’t happen to know where the food’s at, do you?  I thought it was this way, but…” he trailed off when he looked back the direction he’d come.  He didn’t think he’d been walking for very long, but he couldn’t see the entrance anymore.  

“Food’s clear on the other side.”  One of the men stepped out from the back of the group.  Even Eric had to admit that he was striking.  He looked like James Dean on steroids.  His slicked, raven hair sat on top of a smooth, boyishly handsome face, while his thin white t-shirt strained across his protruding pecs.  The sleeves just barely capped the man’s broad shoulders, leaving his sculpted arms mostly uncovered in the muggy night air.  His shirt was tight against his flat stomach as it disappeared into the waist of the tight denim that somehow hadn’t exploded off the powerful legs.  He oozed a rugged confidence as he looked Eric up and down.  “What’s your name, kid?”  

Eric bristled at being called “kid.”  The man didn’t look much older than him.  None of the other guys did, either.  “Eric,” he said, puffing his own ample chest out.  

“Johnny,” the man said, sticking a hand out, “nice to meet ya.  What brings you out here?  You sure don’t look like you’re from around here.”  

Eric met Johnny’s icy blue eyes while they locked their strong hands in an iron grip.  “We got detoured off the highway and then my friends managed to get us all lost back here.”  He looked over the group and raised an eyebrow.  “How ‘bout you guys? You in a band or something?” 

Johnny pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the man behind him.  “Sammy plays a little guitar, but nah, we’re out here cruising for some Betties.  Slim pickin’s tonight.”

Eric wasn’t sure how to respond.  Johnny was being entirely serious.  At first Eric had assumed the group was either in a band or just part of some retro hipster thing, but the more he looked at them, the more authentic it felt.  The way they talked, their body language, the small details on their shoes and jeans, the combs sticking out of back pockets; it was all the real deal.  “Well, uh, nice to meet you.  I’m gonna go hunt down some food.”  

“I tell ya what,” Johnny said as Eric turned to leave.  “We were gonna head over that way in a minute ourselves.  I was just about to take a swing here first.”  

The group was standing around a “High Striker,” one of those games where you hit a platform with a hammer and try to send a ball up to ring the bell on top.  The post was separated into segments, starting at the bottom with “Sissy Boy”, then “Small Fry,” “Lightweight,” “Average Joe,” and “Tough Guy,” before capping out with “Strong Man” at the bell.

“I got a record to maintain,” Johnny said proudly.  “How ‘bout this: if you beat me, I’ll buy your food.  If I beat you, you take care of me?”  

Eric shook his head.  “Sorry man, some other time maybe. I’ve gotta go find my friends anyway.”  

“What?  We’re not friends?”  Johnny said with mock offense, raising his shoulders and motioning to the other guys.  

“Ah, he’s just chicken,” one of them spat.  

“Just a big teddy bear,” another one sneered.  

Every instinct told Eric to walk away.  He had nothing to prove to this group of throwback weirdos, but something about Johnny’s cocky grin got to him.  More than proving anything to them, Eric wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t thrown by the handsome man’s charm and confidence.  He was bigger than any of them, so it should be simple, he told himself.  “Okay, fine,” Eric said, taking Johnny’s outstretched hand for a second time as the other men cheered and egged them on.  

Johnny took the hammer from the pale, blank-eyed man and lined himself up.  Eric watched the other man’s broad back flex and inflate as he lifted the hammer and slammed it home.  A series of lights followed the ball as it rocketed up and slammed into the bell.  “There we go!”  Johnny looked smug as he stepped back and handed the hammer to Eric.  

The big man didn’t know why it tingled in his hands.  It was still warm from Johnny’s firm grip as he adjusted his own meaty paws.  It was heavier than he’d expected, but he sent the ball up just as quickly and forcefully.  “Looks like we’re even,” Eric said as Johnny handed the man another ticket.  

“We keep goin’, then.”  Johnny repeated the process, his loud slam followed by an equally loud ringing.  

Eric took the hammer and lined himself up again, but just as he swung one of the guys in the crowd let out a loud “SWING AND A MISS!”  It distracted Eric just enough so that the hammer glanced off the side of the platform.  It was a strong enough blow to send the ball up into the “tough guy” category, but not all the way.  

“Oh, come on!”  Eric spun around angrily.  “You’ve gotta have one of your boys cheat for you?”  

Johnny turned on the group.  “Hey!  Pipe down, ya knuckleheads.”  He handed the man yet another ticket and gave Eric an apologetic look.  “That one didn’t count.  Go ahead and take another swing.”  

Annoyed, Eric hefted the hammer.  It felt heavier than it did before as he adjusted his grip and held it above his head.  He brought it down with a grunt, but only managed to top out in the “Average Joe” range.  “Looks like you win,” he sighed, suddenly lightheaded.  He went to put the hammer down when a shudder ran through him and the carnival spun.  His vision blurred and his whole body tingled, and when it passed he found himself blinking at an amused looking Johnny.  “What just...AAAAAHHHH!”  

Eric screamed when he followed Johnny’s eyes to his now-baggy clothes.  The tanktop that had been tight on his barrel torso now hung loose.  A set of modest shoulders stuck out in place of his bowling balls, and a pair of normal, slightly toned arms hung where his burly pistons should have been.  His baggy basketball shorts felt exceedingly so as his shrunken, average sized legs swam in them.  His meaty, trunk-like thighs had dwindled to a set of small quads above the thin shins where his rocky calf muscles used to be.  Instead of the brawny wall of muscle that he should have been, Eric found himself looking just like the post said: average.  

“We probably should have mentioned what happens if you don’t make it all the way to the top,” Johnny said, handing the man another ticket.  “Go ahead and see if you can earn any of that size back.”  

Eric was horrified.  “No….no!”  He wanted to drop the hammer and run, but he couldn’t let go of it.  “What is this?!  What are you doing to me?!”  

“Ticket’s been given.  Once that happens you have to swing.”  

Eric felt like he was going crazy.  He tried to tell himself he was still asleep in the car having a nightmare as he struggled the hammer above his head and brought it down as hard as he could.  His weakened arms, already a shadow of their former size, barely propelled the ball into the “Lightweight” category.  “No!  It’s too…” Eric was cut off by another convulsion.  He felt his clothes grow even looser as he dwindled further.  His arms were barely lean now, with just a hint of definition where his bulging biceps used to be.  His once-proud pecs were just a faint outline under a patch of wiry brown hairs and his muscle gut was just a small, flat stomach.  The legs that stuck out from the comically large shorts barely clinging to his waist looked spindly and shapeless.  “Oh god...oh god...this can’t be happening...this can’t be real…” Eric stammered, staring at the small hands still glued to the hammer.  In a matter of minutes he’d somehow gone from hulking, to average, to skinny.  And he still couldn’t let go.  “No...no more...please…” he begged in a trembling voice.  

“You know the rules,” one of the other men said.  

Eric mustered up whatever strength he had left and swung, hoping desperately that his adrenaline would add extra power to his smaller limbs.  If it did, it wasn’t enough.  

“Small Fry!”  One of the men clapped and laughed loudly while Eric’s world turned inside out again.  The once-huge man swayed on his feet, feeling more of himself slip away.  What little wiry definition he’d had left vanished, leaving him lanky and skinny.  He felt his basketball shorts land at his ankles, his boxers just barely holding on.  The tanktop was huge and flowing, almost falling off the thin shoulders that once poured out of it.  

Despite his horror, Eric knew it could still get worse.  There was still one category left and he still couldn’t let go of the now-massive hammer.  “Please...Johnny...don’t make me do thiiaaaahh!”  When Eric turned to face his tormentor, instead of looking him in the eye, as he had been, he found himself looking at the top of Johnny’s bulging chest.  He hadn’t just gotten thinner, he’d gotten shorter.  Johnny had been roughly his same height, which put the other man somewhere around 6’2”, but now Eric knew he was nowhere near that.  

“Come on!  We don’t got all night!”  

Eric closed his eyes at the man’s call.  His withered arms acted of their own accord as they struggled with all their remaining might to even lift the hammer.  His whole body shook as he held it aloft.  

“You gotta give him credit for trying,” one of the men said condescendingly.  

“Eh, I knew he was a sissy boy the whole time,” another added.  “Looks like Johnny found himself a Betty after all.”  

Eric couldn’t hold out any longer.  The trembling sticks that were his arms didn’t so much swing the hammer as let gravity take its course.  He didn’t need to look to know how he scored.  There was another round of uproarious laughter as Eric felt like he was hit by a wave.  It was as if the ground beneath him was swept away in a tide and he was being pulled out to sea.  His body started changing again.  His stick-thin frame actually started filing out, but not with muscle.  His gangly arms added a soft roundness that spread to his stomach and down to his thighs.  While his body inflated, his skin softened and became smooth, the wiry coating of brown hairs vanishing from everywhere south of his eyebrows.  

This time the changes weren’t just physical.  Invisible fingers ran up his spine and into his brain, scrambling and rearranging what he knew to be real.  Eric fought desperately to hold on to some semblance of who he was, and when he was, as an entirely new persona started to take root.  He clung to the hammer, now entirely too heavy for his shrunken body to lift, like a piece of floating driftwood in a choppy sea.  

Then, as quickly as it started, it was over.  Eric’s now-dainty hands lost their grip on the hammer and he went tumbling backwards.  His shrunken feet slid out of his huge cross trainers and he landed in a heap, feeling his soft new body yield in places where it shouldn’t.  

“What just...oh god...why am I so...this can’t…” Eric stared in wide-eyed shock at his altered body.  His tanktop fit him like a small dress, falling off one lithe shoulder and leaving most of his now-supple thighs exposed.  He grabbed at his thin arms and felt his tiny fingers bite into the soft, smooth flesh.  

“Whoa, take it easy babe.”  Eric felt his panic start to fade when he looked up at Johnny’s buff frame towering over him.  His softened stomach fluttered at the sight of the man’s tight, bulging denim.  

“Johnny?  What...what happened?”  Eric couldn’t get his thoughts together.  It was like there were two voices screaming in his head at once.  One was telling him to be terrified and run away, the other was telling him to throw himself at the handsome hunk.  

“You took a tumble, sweetheart,” he said, reaching down and pulling Eric to his feet.  “We told you that hammer was too strong for you, didn’t we fellas?”  

Eric blushed when he stood upright and felt his boxers slide down and land at his ankles.  He looked up at the men, feeling small when he knew he should have been bigger than them.  

“Petite little thing like you can’t lift that,” one of the guys said.  

“Yeah, you should know that’s for real men,” another joined in.  

“Hey,” Johnny silenced the group.  “It was cute to watch Betty try, right?”  He threw an arm over Eric’s trembling shoulders.  “We’re gonna go out to the car for a bit.  We’ll catch up with you goons later,” he said to a series of winks and thumbs up.  

Eric let himself be led by the larger man, blushing harder with each step.  He wasn’t used to the way his new body moved and he felt himself shaking and jiggling in places that he shouldn’t.  There was also a conspicuous absence between his softened thighs.  Part of him was terrified.  The old Eric raged in his brain, and he kept seeing himself as he was.  He was tall and broad, with bulky, hairy muscle.  He was a beast of a man.  He could take Johnny AND all of his friends in a fight.  He wasn’t this tiny little thing being led off into the woods.  

While the old Eric raged, the new Eric loved the sensation of Johnny’s strong hand on his shoulder.  He longed to feel that hand on the rest of him and he shivered out of excitement, not fear, when he saw Johnny’s baby blue ‘57 Chevy parked under a grove of trees.  His flat chest rose and fell rapidly as the handsome greaser opened the door and ushered him inside.  The old Eric wanted to cry at the feeling of the other man’s strong fingers sinking into his soft, bare backside as he crawled in, but the new Eric just squealed in delight.  

“Johnny...what...what’s happening to me?”  Eric looked around the spacious interior of the car, feeling both like he was seeing it for the first time and that it was totally familiar simultaneously.  

“Just take it easy for a sec...you took a nasty spill back there.”  Johnny put a heavy arm on the back of the seat and Eric found himself scooting over to nestle against him.  The body under the straining white t-shirt and tight denim felt like warm granite.  The old Eric wanted to strangle him, but the new Eric felt safe and content as the crickets and toads chirped outside while Johnny’s strong fingers stroked through his hair.  If the other man’s rugged masculinity had been impressive before, it was overwhelming now.  “Hey, let’s get this ridiculous thing off,” Johnny said after a few minutes, tugging on Eric’s oversized tanktop.   

“O...okay…” Eric raised his arms and let the other man pull the shirt free.  The new Eric felt a familiar thrill at being naked in Johnny’s car, but the old Eric was shattered.  He looked in horror at his curvy, androgynous new frame. The muscles that he’d worked so hard to build could never work on a body like this.  His impressive pecs were nothing but a pair of large, puffy nipples above a soft belly, but most horrifying of all was the tiny nub barely poking out between his rounded thighs.  Eric should have had a thick, stocky cock and heavy balls that matched the rest of his burly body perfectly.  He still matched, but now the short, thin little cock and non-existent balls looked almost vestigial.  

Before he could react, Johnny’s hand drifted down to land on an exposed thigh.  “Hey now,” Eric heard himself say.  “I took MY top off…” 

Johnny grinned and peeled out of the tight t-shirt, his impressive arms flexing as he exposed his broad, sturdy torso.  Eric licked his lips, staring at the brawny pecs covered in dark, wiry hairs that ran down his rigid abs.  His old self was disgusted at the thought of what was happening, but his new self was all too eager.  A shrunken hand slid across Johnny’s denim covered thigh to knead the other man’s huge bulge.  

Johnny sighed and leaned back in the seat as Eric worked his mouth across his chest and down his stomach, kneading the growing lump the whole time.  Eric pleaded with himself to stop when he finally pulled his mouth away so he could undo the other man’s pants and fish the pulsing, solid rod free.  He’d never had another man’s cock in his hands before, but to the new Eric it felt all too familiar as his thin fingers closed around Johnny and started stroking up and down.  It felt huge and wide in his small new hands, and neither of the Erics could remember a time when they’d been more turned on.  

After a few minutes of stroking, Eric leaned over and swallowed as much of the long organ as he could fit in his mouth.  Johnny’s loud moan coupled with the electric wave of pleasure he felt drowned out the old Eric’s cries of humiliation.  The new Eric bobbed his head up and down, working his tongue like a pro, while Johnny rubbed his back.  The other man’s rough hand slid further and further down until he was squeezing one of Eric’s yielding new cheeks.  

“MMMMMMnnnn!”  Eric groaned around Johnny’s oozing cock when one of the other man’s strong fingers slid into the valley between his new cheeks and pressed against his tight hole. The sensation was like a live-wire.  He squirmed and writhed when Johnny did it over and over again until the other man started laughing and lifted Eric’s head free.  

“Whew,” he panted, his sculpted chest rising and falling heavily, “I forgot how much you like that.  Don’t wanna end this before we even get started, right?”  

“The bet said I’d take care of you, right?”  Eric couldn’t believe what he was saying.  Instead of being disgusted at having a dick in his mouth, he was flirting.  

“Is that what you wanna do,” Johnny asked, his smug grin telling both of them he already knew the answer.  

Eric let his actions speak for him.  He scrambled over, his shrunken new body letting him climb onto Johnny’s lap, facing him.  He grabbed the back of the seat to brace his weaker legs, and with a quick shift he impaled himself on the other man.  

“OOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….” he whined as his bouncing new cheeks formed a vacuum seal around Johnny’s throbbing pole.  The car creaked and squeaked as they went at it.  Johnny’s hands dug into Eric’s thin new back while the altered man bounced up and down and worked his hips.  The sensation of Johnny’s rough denim against the bottoms of his thighs was intoxicating.  The old Eric did his best to fight against it. He’d never felt anything even close to this good before, but he tried to focus on his horror at the realization that his tiny nub of a cock was still soft and leaking.  He tried to focus on how small and weak he felt in Johnny’s strong arms, when he should have been just as big, if not bigger.  He was able to put up a token resistance until Johnny pulled him in tight and planted a long, deep kiss.  As soon as he felt the other man’s soft, full lips on his own, the old Eric lost his grip.  He was still in there, but all he could do was drift helplessly, a passenger in a body that was no longer his own.  

“There’s my Betty,” Johnny grunted when Eric’s fingers started clawing at his back.  

“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use,” Eric purred, pulling Johnny’s head towards his chest.  “UUnnnnnmm...that’s...better…” he sighed when the other man licked and sucked at one of his puffy nipples.  “Come on...I want you to...really give it to me…” Eric panted, nodding towards the seat next to him.  

Johnny didn’t need any more encouragement.  He shifted Eric so that the other man was flat on his back and had his legs hoisted in the air.  It was a tight fit in the car, but the altered man was small enough to make it work as Johnny plunged back in.  

Eric let out a loud moan as Johnny started thrusting quick and hard.  The vinyl was smooth on his back as the car rocked in time with the big man’s pounding.  “Tha...that’s it...don’t...don’t stop...dooooooooOOOOOHHH!”  His tiny new hands clutched at the seat as he finally came.  It felt like a dam letting loose as a steady flood oozed out from his tiny cock.  

Above him, Johnny didn’t last much longer.  “Oh yeah...oh….oh fuck...fuuuuuuuuuhhh….” The large man’s powerful frame tensed then gave a final buck before pumping a torrent into Eric’s prone, panting body.  The shrunken man writhed and wriggled against the onrush until Johnny pulled his softening cock free.  

They lay in each other’s arms in silence, catching their breath.  Eric gazed up at Johnny, wondering why he’d been so afraid just now.  The other man was gorgeous.  Olive complexion, perfect hair, and all those muscles, not to mention the long, thick hose softening between his hairy thighs.  Why would he ever be scared?  He knew better than that.  Most people saw Johnny as just some hot rod punk, but he knew that was just a front.  Under that tough exterior he was a big kitten, and Eric knew just how to make him purr.  They dozed in the afterglow until Eric’s stomach rumbled loudly.  

“That’s right,” Johnny laughed, “we need to get you some food.”  

Eric pulled himself free and stretched lazily.  “Bet you worked up an appetite too.” 

“You know I did,” Johnny said, putting himself away in his denim.  “I think you’ve got some extra stuff in back.”  

They climbed out and Eric shivered as the warm, muggy air caused his bare skin to break out in goosebumps.  Johnny opened up the trunk and the sight was enough to cause the old Eric to surface.  The former bear was mortified as he watched himself pull on a pair of tight, leopard print leggings that accentuated his bouncing new cheeks and curvy hips.  His tiny little cock didn’t even leave a lump when they settled into place.  These were followed by a tiny red and white polka dot shirt that tied in the front and left his soft belly and flat chest more exposed than covered.  The worst was the pair of tiny, open-toed flats he slid his feet into, complete with a small bow at the toes.  The old Eric couldn’t wrap his brain around his lithe, androgynous new appearance.  When he pulled out a small mirror to fix his hair, he didn’t even recognize himself.  If he looked hard enough, he had the same basic features, but they’d been softened.  His nose was less prominent, his chin was softer, and his cheekbones higher.  And instead of the close-cropped hair he’d had earlier, he found himself styling his longer locks into a mini pompadour like Johnny’s.  

They made their way back to the carnival, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.  The old Eric had just about retreated again until a couple caught his eye.  Gavin and Brett were walking just a short distance away.  The slight glimmer of hope was enough to let the old Eric take control.  

“Gavin!  Brett!  Guys!  Over here!  It’s me!  Eric!  Hey!  Hey guys!”  He waved his arms and yelled as loud as his softened voice would let him, but the other two seemed oblivious.  “No!  Guys!  Turn around!  Hey!”  He kept shouting but they just kept walking. It was the final blow.  

“Who are you yelling at?”  Johnny stopped, but when they both turned and looked, the two had vanished.  “And since when did you go by Eric?  You haven’t used that name in years.”  

Eric shook his head, confused.  He didn’t know why he’d said it either.  He loved it when Johnny called him Betty.  “I...don’t know…” he laughed awkwardly.  “Guess I need food worse than I thought.”  

“Come on let’s...oh, hey, there’s the photo booth!  What say we stop real quick?”  Johnny didn’t wait for an answer.  He pulled Betty in after him and closed the curtain before wrapping his arm around the smaller man.  They faced the camera for the first picture, but the rest in the series only captured their vigorous making out.  They ended up staying in the booth for a while after the pictures had stopped, and when they came out, Betty was wiping his mouth and Johnny had a dazed, satisfied smile on his face.  

They were so caught up in each other they didn’t notice the steady, repetitive wind suddenly pick and grab the pictures, blowing them off into the carnival.