Interactive: Something Wicked, ch. 5 (Patreon)

“Wait...just...I need a minute,” Luke panted.  He leaned into Andy’s now-larger body and stared at himself in disbelief.  His skin was still pale and freckled underneath the wiry auburn hairs that dusted his shrunken body.  His long, powerful legs were now short, wide, and, as he poked at them with smaller hands, still solid with muscle.  It was like his legs had been compressed without losing any mass.  That also left him with a pronounced set of cheeks that looked even bigger against his slender waist.  His stomach was still firm, but it was lithe and defined, without the meaty pecs that should have bulged above it.  His slender torso exploded outwards again at his shoulders with a set of long, large arms.  He had the stocky legs of a wrestler with the upper body of a swimmer, leaving his shortened frame with an almost curvy, hourglass look.  “Is this really us,” he asked, his head still nestled between Andy’s burly new pecs.  

“I don’t even know anymore,” Andy squeaked in his new voice.  His body was a walking display of contrasts.  His huge, bulging pecs looked like they’d been lifted off a bodybuilder, but his arms and stomach were still lean and toned.  Unlike his shortened friend, Andy’s legs had grown longer and wider, and if not for his enlarged chest he would have appeared lopsided and bottom-heavy.  His still-massive cock looked more at home on his new lower half, just as Luke’s shortened, widened member did between his rounded thighs.  “Do I sound as bad as I think I do?”  

Luke let out a short laugh.  “It’s….different,” he said, pausing.  “It’s weird though...I know it sounds different than it should, but...I don’t know….at the same time it sounds perfectly normal.  Does that make sense?”  

“No, but I know what you mean,” Andy said, stroking Luke’s arm.  “This...you....it all feels like we’ve been this way forever.  Fuck, man, how long have we even been in here?”  

Luke shook his head.  He’d lost track right from the start when he felt like he’d fallen for hours down the slide that had left him pale and ginger topped, and the hall of mirrors hadn’t helped.  They hadn’t just changed physically; each time they underwent one of the transformations it brought with it a lifetime of memories.  When they’d ballooned up to obese proportions, it came with a flood of experiences and remembrances of another life.  It happened again when they were short, and then super ripped, and then skeletally thin.  And now this.  Up until this point, all of the experiences with each other had been awkward and embarrassing, but now Luke was content to rest against Andy’s muscle-tits for as long as he could.  “You felt that in the mirrors too, right?  Each time we…” 

“Yeah,” Andy sighed, resting his head back against the wall.  He wasn’t eager to let go of Luke, either.  “It feels like we’ve been here for years.  Is it weird that I’m having a hard time even remembering what I used to look like before?”

Luke finally pulled himself away and stood.  “You weren’t hung like that.”  

“That must have sucked for you since you love taking this thing so...wait…that’s not right…” Andy shook his head, remembering that he and Luke had just been friends when they’d started.  He lumbered upright, his newly increased height towering over the diminished Luke.  Looking down at the other man’s solid little body he couldn’t imagine NOT wanting it.  “Fuck, man, I don’t even know what’s real anymore…” 

“Don’t dwell on it now,” Luke said firmly, taking Andy by the hand.  “Let’s keep going and see if we can find something to wear.”  

The mismatched pair walked in silence, their brains trying to reconcile the dueling sensations of their altered bodies feeling both entirely foreign and entirely natural at the same time.  Andy’s lumbering new gait and heavy chest felt like they should be throwing off his balance more than they actually did, while Luke’s bouncing rear and altered perspective didn’t slow him down as much as he felt like they should.  

They were also noticing subtle changes to the building around them.  More and more decay was creeping into the surroundings.  Paint was looking increasingly faded and chipped than it had been when they’d set out.  Fewer of the lights worked, and the droning, warped organ music hissed and faded in and out under a growing sea of radio static.  The same loud electric humming they’d heard when they first flipped the power switch was growing louder and louder.  

“Oh, hey, check it out!”  Andy chirped as they turned the corner and the hallway widened into a row of old carnival games.  “Maybe there’s something here we can use for clothes.”  

They saw that the booths were dark and in various states of disrepair as they tentatively approached.  There were mouldering stuffed animals scattered around on the ground next to rusted metal toys and random plastic trinkets.  Scraps of torn, moth-eaten fabric hung from the fronts of several, but neither of the men wanted to wrap themselves in the faded material unless they absolutely had to.  There was a ring toss, and a dunk tank, and what looked like a squirt gun race, but each of the booths was crumbling and mostly empty.  

“Doesn’t look like there’s much left,” Luke sighed, leaning over the counter of one of the empty corralls.  It was an old shooting gallery, complete with a pair of air rifles that would knock down moving targets.  The rifles were still there, covered in a thick layer of dust, but the rest was bare.  “At least we can keep moviaaaah!”  He yelped when the booth suddenly flared to life.  

There was a grinding of metal on metal and a loud buzz as rusted tracks groaned into motion and long-dim bulbs sparked back on.  “TOYS! CLOTHES! GAMES!” A prerecorded voice blared from an unseen speaker.  “STEP RIGHT UP! A WINNER EVERY TIME!” 

“Oh fuck no,” Andy said, edging away from the booth.  “Come on man, let’s get the hell away from here.”  He put a hand on Luke’s shoulder as the smaller man stared at the moving track.  A series of blue, pink, and red colored placards began cycling across.

The speaker crackled and hissed again.  “EACH COLOR A DIFFERENT PRIZE!  CAN’T MISS!  GUARANTEED TO WIN!”  

“Luke!  Come on, dude.”  

Luke sounded far away when he spoke.  “Hold on...just give me...a minute…” 

“No! We need to…” Andy made the mistake of looking up from Luke and towards the moving wall of colored tiles.  “We need to…” he trailed off.  The shifting, speeding colors were hypnotic as they blurred into a swirling violet.  

“THREE SHOTS EACH! MATCH ALL THREE COLORS OR TRY FOR ONE OF EACH! NO LOSERS!”  

“I think I want to try…” Luke said quietly, his hand drifting towards a dusty rifle.  

“Me too…” Andy nodded, compelled by the swirling violet wall.  

Luke went first.  He picked up the rifle, aimed, and knocked down a blue placard.  There was a loud ring, and the next thing both men knew, Luke had on a loose, blue muscle shirt.  His burly arms that were too large and too long looked even more so as they hung out the sides, and his enlarged globes were accentuated as the bottom of the shirt came to rest on them.  

“Gah!”  He jumped, then smiled at the sudden appearance of something to wear.  “Oh thank god,” he said quickly, letting out a deep breath.  “Finally, one that’s not terrible.”  On his side of the gallery, a blue light lit up above the targets.  

“Let me take a shot…” Andy followed suit, knocking down a red one.  There was another loud ring and suddenly the large man’s overdeveloped chest was straining against a skin tight, mesh tank top that left his disproportionate torso on display through the sheer fabric.  “What the hell?!”  

“Whoa!”  Luke couldn’t help but smile and feel a surge of attraction at the sight.  

“How come I got this one and you got a normal one?,” Andy asked, looking at the red light glowing over his side of the booth.  

Luke aimed again.  “Beats me.  Let’s see what happens this time.”  He fired, knocking over a pink card this time.  Before they could blink, a bright purple thong materialized on his meaty lower half.  Luke blushed and squirmed at the sudden appearance of the string between his thick cakes.  A pink lit up next to the blue one.   

“Yeah, not so much fun, is it,” Andy laughed as Luke squirmed.  Like his friend, though, he felt his giant tool throb watching the bouncing purple pouch.  “Okay...okay...so blue gave you a muscle shirt...red gave me this, and pink gave you that…” 

“Aim for blue!” 

“That’s the plan…” Andy said, squeezing the trigger.  “Yes!”  He squeaked, his high new voice cracking when a blue card went down.  On cue, a bright red jockstrap formed out of nowhere.  The crimson pouch thrust his thick bulge forward while his weighty cheeks were lifted in the back.  There was a gap of exposed abs from his belly button down to the wide elastic waist of the jock.  “Well that’s not what I was hoping for,” he said awkwardly.  

“I don’t mind,” Luke said, looking Andy up and down while the bigger man blushed.  He took aim again.  “Last one...aaaand….fuck!”  Luke cursed when he sent another pink card down.  As quickly as the rest, a pair of tiny, mesh white shorts plastered themselves to his thick thighs.  They were smaller than the boxer briefs he’d worn initially and left a purple whale tail when his muscle shirt rode up.  A pair of hot pink sneakers formed on his tiny feet, coupled with neon green tube socks.  “Uh...okay, I guess…” he said, blushing as he looked at his bright, skimpy outfit.  

“Come on blue...come on blue…” Andy muttered under his breath, knocking down another red card.  There was a creeping sensation as a pair of black, gartered stockings worked their way up his meaty legs, stopping halfway up his thighs.  A matching pair of shiny, knee-high heels wrapped themselves over the sheer leggings.  “Jesus!”  

Before either of them could process their new outfits, the lights above their halves of the booth flared brightly.  Two reds and a blue for Andy; two pinks and a blue for Luke.  The colors seared into their brains and both men gasped as they felt their personalities being changed to match their new looks.  Andy, with his mesh top, jock and stockings swayed on his heels as he was overcome by all new desires.  He saw himself tied down, strung up, and restrained in various ways.  He could feel hot wax and pinching clamps on his beefy pecs as he debased himself in new and exotic ways.  He moaned, wanting nothing more than to give Luke’s plump rear a bath with his tongue.  The shorter man was experiencing a similar transition.  He was all thick legs, ass, and arms, just as a gay gym boy like himself should be.  He saw himself prancing between sets of squats and curls, his entire body language and manner of carrying himself changing to match his bright, flamboyant outfit.  

“Like, whaaaat just happened,” Luke asked, shaking his head and staggering back from the table.  There was a noticeable new arch to his back when he stood and his hands were a flurry of motion while he talked.  “Oh my gawd girl, look at you!” His pale face went crimson when he heard himself.  “Why am I talking like this?”

Andy couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated expressions on Luke’s face.  From his new perspective, the thought of what the formerly straight stud had gone through only turned him on.  He turned in a seductive saunter, equally confused by his own new motions.  “I don’t know, but it’s cute,” he purred.  

Luke stomped a bright shoe in frustration.  “It so is not!”  

Andy’s mouth watered at the sight of his friend’s jiggling thigh.  “Do that again,” he said, raising an eyebrow.  

Luke raised his leg, but stopped, flustered.  “No!  Andy!  Listen to me!” The words were forced and measured as he tried to control how he spoke.  It didn’t help that he found his friend’s new look irresistible, but he knew if they started anything it would only slow them down.  

Andy pursed his lips, his brows furrowing.  He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes in concentration.  “Sorry man, it’s like there’s another person in here…” he winced.  He tried to see themselves as they should be; just two regular straight guys.  Luke should be beefy and blonde.  He should be wiry and lean.  They should be wearing jeans and t-shirts and talking about girls.  He shouldn’t be drowning in a sea of kinky thoughts and irrepressible desire any more than Luke should be a brightly dressed little go-go boy.  He shouldn’t have a squeaky, helium voice and Luke shouldn’t be a freckled ginger.  The brief respite he’d felt after stumbling out of the hall of mirrors was fading as the terror of their situation came rushing back.  “Fuck…” he hissed, “what are we turning into?!”  

***** I feel like we're nearing the end for these two, so this poll will be slightly different. *****