Preying at The Altar (full text) (Patreon)

“It’s just a little bit further,” Braden said as he pulled the buxom blonde through the dark trees.  The full moon filtered through the canopy of branches overhead, casting long shadows that danced around them in the chill breeze, the pale blue light giving the woods an other worldly feel.  

“It’s creepy out here,” the blonde giggled drunkenly, clutching Braden’s sturdy arm.  

You don’t know the half of it, he thought.  “Exciting, right?” he asked, stopping to slide a hand down her supple back to give her plump rear a squeeze.  Braden didn’t even remember her name.  He’d just met her a couple hours ago at his go-to bar when he was looking to get laid.  There were always plenty of drunk college girls who thought it was fun to hook up with a townie like himself.  He was their same age, but instead of going to class he spent his days on a fishing trawler.  Countless hours of casting traps and hauling nets left him with a brawny, eye-catching build.  He could go toe-to-toe with any of the college guys who spent their time sculpting vain muscles just for show in the fancy campus gym.  Not that he needed to show them up; the salty sea air weathered his boyishly handsome face enough to make him look ruggedly masculine while they still looked like kids.  His thick, chocolate brown hair melted down to join with his constant stubble, highlighting his strong jaw and pouty lips.  He relished the room full of turning heads when he walked in, his pecs bulging out under his tight sweater, competing for attention with his powerful arms and legs.  Braden didn’t even have to try.  A few minutes of sitting at the bar and the girls would come to him like moths to a flame.  If any of their boyfriends were foolish enough to try and start something with him, they quickly backed down when they saw his large, calloused hands.  A few drinks later and he’d inevitably have a girl in tow as he led them out into the woods.  

It was an easy hook.  The entire New England coast is peppered with mystery.  The dense forests are filled with stone walls, strange foundations, standing stones, and circles of boulders whose purpose has been lost to the ages.  Some of them go back over four thousand years, predating any sort of recorded native societies in the area.  The more prominent ones had become tourist traps, but having grown up in the region his entire life, Braden knew where the remote, hidden ones were.  They were perfect for nights like this one.  Even the college kids had heard of them, which made them the perfect lure.  All he had to do was bring up the legends, flash his charming smile, and he’d have his pick of the room.  It wasn’t uncommon for him and his buddies to bring a whole group out.  

Practically speaking, the ruins were remote enough that no one would hear them.  If they got out there and the girls changed their mind it didn’t matter.  Braden and his friends weren’t ones to take no for an answer.  They didn’t rely on any kind of trail, so there was nowhere for the girls to run other than out into the dark, unfamiliar forest.  They knew it like the backs of their hands, which made tracking them down easy.  On other nights, when they’d had their fill of women, they’d lured more than one unfortunate man to be “sacrificed” on an ancient stone altar.  They hadn’t actually killed anyone yet, but they’d come close with several of the men who’d dared to hit on one of them.  

“Here we are,” Braden said, brushing aside a low-hanging branch and stepping out into a clearing.  

“Oohhh, spooky!” his companion chirped as she took in the scene.  The trees seemed to come to an abrupt stop, forming a perfect circle.  A series of large boulders ringed the perimeter, with smaller stones spiraling towards the center.  In the middle of the clearing was a broad stone slab surrounded by the remains of primitive, broken pillars.  “What was this place?”  

Braden grinned with anticipation as he led her towards the stone slab.  “No one knows.  They think it was used for human sacrifices.”  He laughed when he felt her shiver against him.  “See this,” he said, pointing to a basin in the middle of the stone altar.  “That would catch the blood and then it would run around the outside of the stone in this channel…” Braden ran a finger through the divet that lined the edges of the altar, leading to a spout at one end.  “...and then it would fall into this hollow stone down here.  This must’ve been some kind of church or something.”

“Well, you’re partially right, at least.”  

Braden leapt up from his crouching position by the stone and spun around at the sound of a strange male voice.  A slight, well-dressed man was standing where the blonde had been.  He was wearing a suit made of deep indigo fabric, with spotless, matching shoes.  His pale skin and bald head practically glowed in the bright moonlight.  “Who the fuck are you?!  Where’s…” he hesitated, not remembering her name, “...where’d she go?”  

“You mean you don’t recognize me?  You’ve been grabbing my ass all night,” the man laughed.  His browless eyes were inky pools on his flat, almost featureless face, and his thin lips spread wide, revealing a mouth with too many teeth.  

“Are you high?  I’ve never seen…you…” Braden trailed off when the man blurred and he suddenly found himself looking at the chesty blonde.  

“Look familiar,” she asked in the man’s smooth tenor.  

Braden felt a rush of fear.  It wasn’t something the burly man was used to.  “How’d you do that?  You put something in my drink?”  He drew himself up and puffed his powerful chest out.  He was easily twice the size of the smaller man.  

“You were right about how the altar works,” the man said, walking to the stone slab and ignoring Braden’s question.  “Though it doesn’t always have to be blood.  All manner of fluids and viscera will do.”  The man turned away from the stone and looked Braden up and down, his small nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the air.  “My, you ARE a virile one, aren’t you?”  

Braden had enough.  He went to lunge for the man, only to find himself frozen in place.  He tried again and again, his muscular frame flexing and straining against the unseen bonds in a futile attempt.  “What...why can’t I move,” Braden hissed.  He turned his head slightly, the most he could manage, to watch the man circle the stone altar.  

The man looked around and gestured to the clearing.  “You were wrong about these being churches.  They were never places of worship, exactly.  They’re doorways.”  He paused to let that sink in.  “For millennia, your kind, and those that came before, would gather at places where the planes intersected to open the gateways and draw power from the ones on the other side.”  

Braden was starting to panic. The longer he watched the man the more the image started to blur. He kept catching glimpses of a shadowy outline that was too tall and had too many spindly legs.

“Your methods were crude,” the man shaped thing continued, “but eventually they heard you knocking.” He turned and pinned Braden with his jet black eyes. “You can’t do the things you and your friends have done in a place like this and not attract attention sooner or later. So here we are,” he said with a casual wave of a hand. 

Braden blinked, still thinking he’d just been drugged.  The man sounded crazy.  “So you’re...what? One of these things from the other side?” 

The man let out a high, chittering laugh. “Oh, no, I merely serve. They can’t cross over. Not yet. But their power can. In places like this it bleeds through to work wonders...if you know how to harness it. Consider this your first lesson.”

“I’m not interested in any lessons,” Braden grunted. He was soaked in sweat from his futile straining. “Look, just let me go and I’ll never bother you or this place again.”

The man shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that, I'm afraid.  The eye of the powers is on you now. There’s no going back.”

“Fuck you,” Braden bellowed, a vein sticking out prominently on his forehead, “and fuck them! Do you know how fucking crazy you sound? As soon as I can move I’m going to rip your fucking head off!” He thrashed and snarled menacingly, but the sensation of being buried up to his neck never faded. The man stood back and watched his failed efforts with the same broad smile. 

“You of all people should know how pointless it is to fight against something so much bigger than yourself.  We all know how often you use your size to overpower others.  Maybe we can change that? There’s a freedom that comes with losing control. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but once you let go it brings so many wonderful revelations.”

His burst of fury spent, Braden felt the panic creeping back. “So what, then?  What’re you gonna do to me,” He panted. 

The man shrugged his deceptively lithe shoulders. “Who knows? It’s not up to me.” He pointed to the night sky overhead and sounded almost eager. “When they leave their mark on this world it’s always a work of art. Just look.”  

Braden shrieked as the man blurred again. It was the first time in his adult life that he’d actually screamed in terror and the experience left him shattered. There was no mere suggestion of monstrous proportions any more as the man unfolded before him, growing to nearly eight feet in height. It’s long, gangly arms were covered in coarse black fur that spread across the backs of its slender, clawed hands. It was bare chested, with a stretched out, misshapen torso atop a spider-like lower half. The face, if it had ever truly belonged to a human, no longer bore any resemblance to man with its huge faceted eyes and mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth. 

Had he been able to move, Braden would have hit the ground in a heap. He swayed on his feet, feeling faint and nauseous. The thought that he’d had his hands, and mouth, on the creature made his skin crawl. 

“Now, now, don’t panic.”  Just like that, the creature was back to presenting as the small, dapper man.  He walked over and stroked Braden’s broad chest gently. “I was a man once. Centuries ago. We didn’t grow quite this big back then,” he laughed, squeezing one of the frozen man’s thick arms and looking up at his pale, horrified face.  A note of pride crept into his voice. “Forms such as mine are reserved for the highest of initiates. Only those that have mastered the final lesson achieve the true blessing. You and your friends don’t need to worry about that. You’ve been granted the gift of freedom from your current meat shells, but no more.”

Braden was on the verge of tears. “Please….I’m sorry...don’t…..don’t do this…” he stammered, echoing words he’d heard directed at him and his friends countless times. 

“Careful, you don’t want to sound ungrateful,” the man said quietly. “This is a gift, after all. But enough talk. Take your clothes off so we can get started.”

The same unseen force that held him in place began moving his limbs.  He fought to keep his arms from reaching down and pulling his sweater free.  Beads of sweat ran down the mounds of his pecs, trickling across his firm stomach as his shaking hands fumbled with the fly of his tight jeans.  His glistening skin broke out in goosebumps under the chill of the evening air as he kicked his jeans and boxers free, to stand naked in front of the stone slab.  “Pl...please…” he begged hoarsely.  

The man reached into his tailored suit coat and pulled out a long, smooth object.  It was a dark grey rock, rounded at the edges to form a thin oval.  It was covered in strange symbols that had been carved into the stone and that seemed to glow in the moonlight.  The man motioned with it towards the altar and Braden yelped when he found himself clambering up onto the stone and kneeling on all fours.  Every one of his ample, powerful muscles was tensed and flexed as he fought to escape.  His broad shoulders, wide back, and solid thighs made him look as though he was carved from the same stone as the altar he knelt on, while his thick cock and heavy balls dangled above the basin in the center of the slab.  

“What are you gonna do?!”  Braden tried to look over his shoulder as the man came up behind and put a hand on one of his solid globes.  

He ran the carven stone across Braden’s lower back.  “We need to open the gate.  This is the key...you’re the lock.”  

“What do you meeeEEEEUUUUUHHH!”  Braden gasped when the smooth stone was abruptly shoved inside him.  He panted and gasped, wide eyed and writhing as much as he was able against the invading object.  The man had let go, but it kept working itself in deeper and deeper.  He grunted and grit his teeth in pain, feeling like he was being impaled on a spike.  Just as he felt like he would pass out from the agony, everything shifted.  “OOOHHHHHH!”  He groaned and clutched at the worn slab as a jolt of pleasure shot through him.  His long hose spasmed and went rigid under the increasing wave of bliss he was experiencing.  He heard himself whining and whimpering as if from a distance, embarrassed by the high, cracking sound of his voice.  Never in his worst nightmares did he ever picture his brawny body squirming hungrily while being penetrated.  He certainly never imagined that it could feel this good.  “What...what’s happening…” he panted as the clearing started to change around him.  He saw spectral images of what the broken pillars had looked like in their prime.  They were covered in symbols like the ones on the stone that had been inserted into him, glowing with the same ghostly witch light under the bright moon.  

“The gateway is starting to open,” the man said excitedly.  “Any moment now and…” 

“Oh...oh fuck…oh fuuuUUUNNNNNGGGGG!” Braden’s hissing gasp cut him off.  His pulsing cock exploded into the basin, shooting out a massive stream that didn’t stop.  Braden’s ecstatic moans were accompanied by a look of horror as he felt his churning balls unleash an impossible amount.  The basin quickly filled and the warm, sticky fluid spread slowly outwards into the perimeter channels.  All Braden could do was keep bucking and spasming as more and more of his essence sprayed onto the slab.  The viscous fluid moved at a torturously slow pace until finally falling off the edge to begin filling the basin on the ground.  After what felt like hours, Braden’s trembling limbs gave out and he fell flat onto the slab.  “Oh god...oh god…” he said breathlessly, rolling over onto his back.  His softening, still oozing cock flopped against his stomach, letting a steady stream of the warm fluid spread across his hairy abs.  When he was able to lift his head and look down over his heaving pecs, he saw the strange symbols from the stone slithering across his skin.  It felt like insects were crawling all over him.  He looked desperately at his grinning tormentor.  He was no longer frozen, but he was too weak to do much more than turn his head.  

“You’ve felt their touch,” the man said, almost wistfully.  “And now, through you, your friends can feel their touch as well.”

“Ho...how?  You can’t bring them here,” Braden said, trying his best to focus.  The flopping cock on his stomach hadn’t stopped oozing and there was a growing trickle flowing down his side.  

“We don’t need to.  I just needed you to come out here of your own volition.  Now, with you as the nexus, we can reach whoever we want.”  Braden shivered when the man came over and dipped a finger into the growing puddle of fluid on his stomach before tracing one of the glowing symbols on his chest with it.  “Now who should we visit first?”  

***********

Nate let the heavy bar drop with a loud clang, the sound blending in with the grunts and bangings of the other meatheads around him.  His large pecs heaved against his sweat-soaked tank top as a seemingly endless stream of liquid dripped down from his buzzed, auburn scalp.  He wiped his sharp, wolfish features with a paper towel, flexing his giant arm in the mirror as he did so.  Nate’s biceps were the size of most people’s heads, and they were just one facet of the walking mountain of muscle.  At 6’4”, Nate already towered over just about everyone, but throw in nearly three hundred pounds of burly bulk and he was truly an intimidating sight.  He didn’t have the ripped, vanity muscles that a lot of guys went for, either.  Nate was pure, thick beef.  He was lean, but he didn’t have the striated, shredded body like the guys over at the campus gym.  He wasn’t interested in being one of them.  He left the pretty-boy bullshit to his friend Chris, opting instead to build a giant body that radiated a masculine confidence.  

And as if his natural size wasn’t eye-catching enough, he was covered in tattoos from the shoulders down.  The entirety of both mammoth arms were covered in bright sleeves, joined to each other by the intricate pattern inked into his beefy pecs.  His tight, flat stomach was still bare, but each of this thick thighs picked things back up, with bright designs flowing all the way down his rocky calves to the tops of his feet.  His body was a work of art in more ways than one.  

Just looking at the tall, broad man told you what his priorities were.  When he wasn’t at the gym, Nate spent his days either working or getting another piece done in a tattoo shop.  It was a perfect fit for the burly man.  He tended towards an angsty disposition to begin with, so the shop gave him a creative outlet without the trappings of a “regular” job, which themselves weren’t in great supply in his small New England town anyway.  The only other options were to work in one of the mills or fisheries in town.  He’d done both briefly and wasn’t eager to go back.  

The other added bonus to working in the shop was the steady supply of women that it provided.  His brooding, handsome features were impressive by themselves, but when you added in his beefy build, he had women throwing themselves at him daily.  He was only too happy to oblige them.  It was rare for a day to pass without him hooking up with at least one woman at the shop,  and if he didn’t land one there, he and the boys had no problem finding them at the bar after work.  His appetite was insatiable.  

Nate eyed the loaded bar and considered another set, but decided against it.  He had an appointment coming to the shop in an hour.  Specifically, a short, redheaded appointment with an ass for days that he wanted to spend some extra time with.  He rolled his bowling ball shoulders and headed for the locker room, stripping out of the tank top as he went.  

“Lookin’ good out there, man,” one of the older, ‘roided out regulars said as they passed.  

“You too stud,” Nate laughed, slapping the man’s bulging muscle gut.  He liked this gym for its no-nonsense approach.  Most of the guys that went there were older and had been lifting and cycling for years.  They were all bulky, thick muscle heads.  All they wanted to do was come and lift, not hang out or try and hook up like in the college gyms.  With as many steroids as the guys used, Nate wasn’t sure that half of them could even get hard anymore if they wanted to.  

He needed that feeling of superiority as he peeled out of his baggy basketball shorts, exposing his straining grey boxer briefs.  The damp cotton was stretched to capacity around the large, firm globes of his ass, but there was only a slight bulge between Nate’s impressive legs.  At his hardest, he topped out at just over five inches.  No amount of flexing or posing could hide the smallness of his endowment.  While it would have only been slightly below average for most guys, given his excessive frame, his package looked positively tiny on him.  Not that he ever got complaints.  Any initial doubts that someone had faded quickly once he got to work.  Like the rest of his sculpted body, Nate knew how to use every one of the few inches he had.  He prided himself on always leaving women satisfied.  

Still, he felt a pang of self-consciousness every time he stripped naked in the locker room and walked to the showers.  Whenever he’d see a guy half his size but with twice the dick, he was filled him with an embarrassed rage.  He hated how envious he was of their thick, dangling hoses while his only poked out from the trimmed bush around it.  He could spend all the time in the world building the rest of his impressive muscles, but there was nothing he could do about the one part of him that actually was small.  

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind while he rinsed his aching muscles under the warm stream.  Soon enough he’d have a chance to prove to everyone, himself included, that he wasn’t lacking anything.  He told himself he’d feel better once he got laid; it usually did the trick.  

His little cock twitching with anticipation, Nate hurried to finish up so he could get to the shop.  

**********

Braden groaned and squirmed on the stone slab.  He knew something was very wrong.  The limp, girthy cock flopped back onto his flat stomach hadn’t stopped oozing since his impossibly large eruption earlier.  His entire midsection was soaked as the seemingly endless stream trickled out.  He was trying not to think about any of his friends.  The monster standing over him mentioned reaching out to them through him, so he was doing his best to keep his thoughts focused on himself.  

“That won’t help,” the creature said gently, once again adopting the guise of the small, dapper man.  “We’re already connected.” Braden gasped when ghostly images of his friends suddenly appeared around them.  “See?”  The creature examined each of them in turn until settling on front of the tall, broad tattooed man.  “Quite a lot to work with here, isn’t there,” he said, looking Nate’s apparition up and down.  

“Don’t...what are you going to do to them?”  Braden moaned.  His powerful frame strained to right itself, but it felt as if the very air was a solid mass holding him down.  

The man shook his head slowly.  “It’s not up to us.  We’re just making the connection.  They,” he gestured to the night sky, “will do the work.”  

Braden watched him make a series of gestures with his hands.  The images of the other three men faded while the sky above him seemed to blur.  He started to feel like he was in a planetarium when the stars began to move and he found himself instead watching Nate in the shower at the gym.  “Wait...when is this…” Braden asked, seeing daylight filtering in through the locker room skylights.  

Again, the man just shrugged.  “Could be yesterday...could be tomorrow.  Time doesn’t work for them like it does for us.”  He raised a long finger to his mouth, motioning for Braden to be silent.  “Quiet, now.  Let’s watch.”  

**********

Nate quickly turned the shower off and grabbed a towel.  His thoughts about the upcoming appointment with the hot redhead had gotten out of hand as his cock went from twitching to rock hard.  The big man blushed as he toweled himself dry.  He’d seen other guys get hard in the locker room.  It was a natural occurrence sometimes, especially after a workout.  It had just never happened to him before.  

He walked back to his locker with the towel hanging in front of him.  This left his powerful rear on display, but when he’d wrapped the towel around his waist there was no hiding the small tent formed by his rigid little poker.  His meaty chest rose and fell slowly as he took deep breaths, trying, and failing, to get himself back under control.  He finally let the towel drop and pulled his grey boxer briefs on as quickly as possible, with his jeans following right after.  He winced as he shoved himself in, feeling grateful for the first time about his small endowment.  There was a noticeable lump in the baggy jeans, but he could work with that.  He slipped into his t-shirt and hoodie and headed for his car, slinging his gym bag in front of him to cover his tented pants.  

“Ow!  What the fuck is going on,” he grimaced in pain and squirmed in the driver’s seat as his aching cock was pinched and squished.  He tried to find a comfortable position as he drove to the shop, but no matter how he sat his powerful thighs crowded out the persistent organ.  The pain only got worse as he drove, and by the time he pulled into the shop’s parking lot he was desperate.  Not knowing what else to do, Nate looked around to make sure no one was watching and undid his jeans.  He fished his proud cock out and breathed a sigh of relief when the pain faded.  Until he saw why it was pinching so badly in the first place.  “Wha...what?”  He gave a shocked laugh at the sight of the longer, thicker cock standing straight up from his open fly.  It had grown by at least an inch in length and half as much in width.  He gave it a quick poke, not believing what he was seeing.  Sure enough, it was real.  

Before he could examine himself further, the confused man was interrupted by a knock on his window.  He jumped at the tapping and turned bright red when he saw his coworker Aaron looking in at him.  

Nate froze in panic.  He looked down at his exposed cock and back up at his friend without making any move to cover himself.  Instead, he rolled the window down with an awkward grin.  

“Hey dude,” Aaron said casually, as if Nate’s solid cock being on display was entirely normal.  

“Uh...hey…” Nate stammered, red faced.  

Aaron cocked his head to the side and looked the big man up and down, still saying nothing about Nate’s exposed state.  “You okay?  You’ve got a weird look on your face.”  

It took Nate a second to process what he’d heard.  He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or concerned that Aaron hadn’t said anything about what he was seeing.  The other man never got worked up about much, but surely the sight of his coworker’s hard dick in the parking lot should have warranted some kind of reaction.  “Huh?  Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine,” Nate said, instead of asking the hundred questions that were racing through his brain.  

Aaron’s raised eyebrow gave the impression that he didn’t believe the bigger man, but he didn’t pursue it.  “If you say so.  Just wanted to give you the heads up that your appointment called and said they’d be a few minutes late.  He got stuck in traffic.”  

“That’s fine, it’ll give me time to get ready,” Nate said.  He’d wanted to ask who called since his appointment was supposed to be a she, not a he, but his mouth had other ideas.  

So did his body.  Nate’s eyes went wide when he found himself opening his door and climbing out with his jeans still open and his growing dick still exposed.  He didn’t even try to cover himself.  He grabbed his shoulder bag out of the backseat and followed Aaron inside, his thick thighs holding his open jeans up while his solid, bobbing rocket led the way.  

“Hey guys,” he waved to Chad and Eric, his other two coworkers, as he walked in.  

“‘Sup,” Chad nodded, not looking up from the paper he was drawing on.  

“You’re dressed up today,” Eric laughed when he looked at Nate’s open jeans.  

“I...am?”  Nate stammered when he looked down and saw that his exposed cock looked even bigger than it had a few minutes ago in the car.  

“When was the last time you actually wore jeans?”  Chad asked, finally looking up.  

Nate’s heart started racing.  Nothing about any of what was happening made sense.  “I...uh...I dunno…” he said, leaving his three coworkers to exchange puzzled looks as he hurried into his room and shut the door.  “This is insane! What the fuck is...going...on…” the big man trailed off when he realized that, even as he was trying to figure out what was happening, he was kicking his shoes off and had dropped his jeans.  “Wait...where are my…” he gaped at his bare lower half.  The boxer briefs he’d put on at the gym were nowhere to be seen, and his still-throbbing pole was continuing to push ever outward.  He wrapped a hand around it and felt a mixture of horror and excitement at the way it filled his hand.  He had to be close to seven inches now and his balls were inflating to match.  He bent to check his discarded jeans for his underwear and heard his door click open.  

“That’s more like it,” Chad said, slapping one of Nate’s bare cheeks as he came in the room.  Nate shot upright, blushing at the thought that he’d just flashed his exposed hole to the other man.  “Lookin’ for something?”  

“Yeah, my underwear,” Nate said flatly.  

“Well it’s not gonna be in there,” Chad said with a raised eyebrow.  “This is the baseball guy coming in, right?”  Nate watched Chad cross his room, noticing for the first time that it wasn’t set up how it should have been.  None of his tattoo equipment was present.  There was a small dresser, a cabinet, a large, padded table bigger than the one he used for tattooing, and a tall mirror.  Chad opened one of the drawers and pulled out a bright orange jockstrap and handed it to him.  “He’s a jock, right?  He’ll probably be into that.”  

Nate just stood there, pantsless and hard, staring at the jock.  He’d never owned anything like it in his life, but it felt totally familiar in his large hands as he took it from his friend.  He slid it up his thick, inked thighs and did his best to contain his now-huge, tenting rod.  His inflated balls were visible though the sides when his new, eight inch cock pushed the pouch forward.  He blushed at the sensation of the straps lifting and accentuating his already prominent, exposed ass.  

Nate felt dizzy and whiplashed from the increasingly routine way the impossible scenario was starting to feel.  He still didn’t understand why everyone was acting like this happened all the time.  His thin coworker looked normal.  Chad was clad in his standard tight t-shirt and skinny jeans, and Eric and Aaron had both appeared the same.  It was just him that was different from what he could see.  

Chad watched Nate slide the jock on like the big man was tying a pair of shoes.  “You gotta check out this piece Eric is working on,” he said, nodding for Nate to follow him.

Nate tried to stop himself when he started back out onto the shop floor.  His small, tight t-shirt rested on his bare, shifting cheeks, providing no coverage at all for his tented lower half.  He started to wonder if he was having one of those nightmares where you’re pants-less or naked as he walked over to Eric and his client, his solid cock throbbing just inches from both of them.  

“Check it out,” Eric said above the hum of the needle gun.  Nate looked down at the intricate dragon being outlined between the shirtless man’s shoulder blades.  The design was impressive, but Nate’s attention was more focused on the fit young man’s bare torso.  He had a shaggy mop of blonde hair and trim, tapering sides that led to a small bubble in the back of his jeans.  Nate’s cock throbbed at the sight.  

“It’s, uh, great,” he said, confused and blushing as the man on the table turned his head to look up at him.  The blonde flashed a wry grin that sent another pulse through Nate’s loins.  The jock lost its precarious hold, letting his cock that was now closer to ten inches spring free.  Instead of being horrified or repulsed, both men just laughed.  

“Yeah, yeah, we know what you’re really interested in,” Eric said, rolling his eyes while the young man getting tattooed licked his lips at the sight of the muscular man’s bobbing pole.  “You can schedule appointments with Nate here if you’re interested in that,” Eric said, giving Nate’s rod a squeeze as he pulled a glove off to change needles.  

Nate gasped at Eric’s sudden fist on his cock.  “Really?”  The young man asked, an eager look in his eyes.  

“Yep.  Top, bottom, whatever you want, the big guy here can supply,” Eric said casually as he filled a series of small plastic cups with ink.  

“I’ll have to remember that,” the man on the table said as the bell above the door rang.  

Nate’s heart was racing as he tried to process what he heard.  None of it made sense.  He was an artist, not some kind of sex worker.  Wasn’t he?  He was having a hard enough time trying to wrap his brain around his lack of pants and somehow growing dick, and now this?  He turned towards the door, mortified that yet another person was seeing him in his current state, and felt his stomach flutter.  The sight of the lean young ginger sent a thrill through him and he grinned despite his confused fear.  

“Hey big guy.”  The redhead’s cheeks dimpled when he smiled back, his bright blue eyes wrinkling at the edges above his button nose.  

Nate’s eyes instantly traveled down the man’s solid, built arms escaping out of his small t-shirt.  “Hey Trav,” he said, nodding back towards his room.  His body was on autopilot again as he let the young man enter and shut the door.  “How’s it goin’ today?”  

“It’s about to get a whole lot better,” was all the man said before throwing himself at Nate.  

Despite his bigger size, Nate melted in Trav’s grip.  His own meaty arms returned the embrace as he leaned in for a rough kiss.  He hesitated.  The sensation of another man’s tongue in his mouth jarred him back to his senses, and he thought about the short, redheaded woman with the big tits that he should have been tattooing.  

As if he was reading Nate’s thoughts, Trav stepped back and peeled his shirt off to reveal a set of large, solid pecs above a ripped, washboard stomach.  “Not used to seein’ you in a shirt,” he laughed, grabbing the bottom of Nate’s shirt to do the same.  

The combination of the sculpted mounds with their smattering of red hair and Trav’s bright grin caused Nate to lose what little grip his former self had.  He numbly raised his beefy arms and let the other man pull his shirt free.  

“Jock’s a nice touch, though,” Trav purred, snapping one of the elastic straps.  “Let me get a look at you.”  

Nate broke into a series of flexing poses as he turned in a circle, pausing when Trav’s hands started massaging his meaty globes.  The young man took his time, pressing against Nate’s broad back while he the other man’s thickened cock filled his hands.  Nate gasped when Trav’s mouth worked its way across a broad shoulder and his hands drifted up to palm his granite pecs.  He felt like he was losing control.  He couldn’t stop himself when he turned in the other man’s grip and reached down to fumble with Trav’s jeans, his hands caressing the firm muscles of his stomach in the process.  

Though he knew he’d never seen him before, the longer he was around the other man, the more memories started to form in Nate’s addled brain.  He suddenly knew why Chad had referred to Trav as “the baseball guy.”  He played for the local college and had come in for work one day.  Nate remembered watching as Chad tattooed the tribal designs around Trav’s large biceps.  Like the blonde he’d just seen, Nate had stared lustfully at the redhead’s tight, toned body while the other man had been just as captivated by his hulking, naked frame.  

Nate shook his head at the thought, telling himself it was all wrong.  He didn’t spend his time naked in the shop.  He couldn’t.  But even as he thought it, he started to doubt.  Memories of his daily life started creeping in, and he was naked and hard in just about all of them.  The shop, the gym, restaurants, parks, the mall; he saw himself casually strolling along with his meaty thighs and ample ass out for everyone to see.  His impressive cock was hard all the time now, but that was just how the world worked.  

“You still with me,” Trav panted, taking a break from giving Nate’s muscular chest a tongue bath when he felt the big man’s hands stop undoing his jeans.  

“Yeah, so..sorry,” he gasped when one of his perky nipples was swallowed.  He felt his monster rod start oozing when his hands slipped inside Trav’s tight briefs.  He reluctantly pulled his chest away from the other man’s warm tongue so that he could drop to his knees.  He slowly pulled the tight jeans and briefs down Trav’s toned thighs before his hands slid back up to swallow each of his small, solid cheeks.  

The strange sense of deja vu kept growing as Nate pawed at Trav’s body.  Not only did the lean, defined muscles feel familiar under his large, rough hands, Nate somehow knew exactly how to make the other man squirm.  When he leaned in and started working Trav’s low hanging balls in his mouth, the salty, musky taste was at home on his tongue.  He loved the silky bush against his face and the quiet moans when he finally swallowed Trav’s aching cock.  

Nate swooned under another wave of confusion.  He was entirely straight.  He’d never messed around with a guy before, yet his head was filling with memories of man after man, both in the shop and out of it.  When he thought back, the big man couldn’t remember ever being with a woman anymore, just like he couldn’t remember a time when his solid dick wasn’t on display.  

He wrestled with his dueling thoughts while his head bobbed and his tongue worked expertly.  He brought Trav to the brink time and again without letting him slip over the edge.  Though his partners may have changed, one thing that remained the same was Nate’s skill when it came to sex.  He let Trav’s long cock slip out of his mouth and spun the panting man around.  His mouth watered as he spread the younger man’s small cheeks and attacked the eager hole with his tongue.  Trav became a writhing, whimpering mass, his tiny waist swallowed by Nate’s strong hands.  The redhead had the kind of body that Nate always envied: lean but built, with a small waist and a big dick.  Now, he didn’t envy it, he lusted after it.  He didn’t feel resentful looking at the lean, defined redhead; he felt hungry.  The longer his face was buried between the pert cheeks, the more Nate felt himself slipping.  He wasn’t fighting any of this anymore.  He didn’t want to.  His permanently hard cock was aching and oozing and he was itching for more.  

“You just givin’ me a bath today or what,” Trav panted over his shoulder.  

“Sorry,” Nate grinned, his hand sliding around to stroke the other man’s equally hard rod.  “Guess I got caught up down here.”  He gave Trav’s hole one more rough push with his tongue before standing and draping his beefy arms around the smaller man.  Nate kissed Trav’s freckled neck while his hands ran up and down the ginger’s abs, his usual confidence starting to come back.  

“Oh fuck big guy...I need it…” Trav whimpered, grinding his ass back against Nate’s ready cock.  “Leave the jock on.”  The tattooed giant bent Trav forward and guided the eager young man into position, sliding the now-huge club slowly inside.  “OOOOHHHHhh….yesssss….” Trav hissed, letting out a series of gasps as Nate worked himself in.  He was impressed that the smaller man was able to handle his size, but then again, he knew that’s why Trav paid him.  He liked being topped by huge guys, and between his tall height, huge muscles, and lengthy endowment, they didn’t come much bigger than Nate.  

The big man was back in his element.  Each of his inked, ample muscles flexed and tensed while he expertly worked the grunting young stud on the end of his dick.  Short jabs, long thrusts, quick pounding; he alternated between all of them until Trav was flat on his back, his toned thighs on Nate’s broad shoulders while his sculpted pecs bounced from the rough pounding he received.  Nate knew this was his favorite.  The young man’s impressive cock slapped uselessly against the auburn trail that ran down his stomach and his face twisted into masks of pleasure.  He clutched wide-eyed at the vinyl table until finally arching his back and unleashing a stream of ropey fluid all over his heaving chest. 

Nate didn’t stop.  His hands were clamped onto Trav’s thighs, holding the dazed man in place.  “How we doin’,” he asked with a smug smile.  

“Do...do it…” Trav begged.  Nate pulled out and let the other man’s legs drop onto the table.  His old self surged to the surface when he wrapped a large fist around his cock and saw how big it really was.  He had to have been over ten inches and was as thick as a beer bottle.  As quickly as it seemed odd, everything felt like it was back to normal, and after a few pumps Nate groaned and sprayed all over the prone man.  The look of pure satisfaction on the redhead’s dimpled face as he was showered filled Nate with a familiar sense of pride.  “Oh...oh shit…” Trav finally laughed with a dazed smile.  “That was fantastic as always.”  

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Nate said, helping the other man sit up.  The huge pole between his legs hadn’t softened in the slightest, but that no longer struck Nate as odd.  None of it did.  Helping Trav wipe up and then cleaning stray pools of cum in his room seemed perfectly normal.  When he pulled on a cut off muscle shirt that left everything south of his belly button exposed and walked back out into the shop, he didn’t hesitate.  He stood around and chatted with the guys and their clients like he always did.  His ample behind, meaty, thick thighs, and huge, solid cock and inflated balls were proudly on display for everyone until his next appointment arrived.  

By the end of the day, Nate didn’t even remember having any other kind of life.  His days of hooking up with women and tattooing weren’t just things of the past; they’d never existed to begin with.  He still spent his days lifting and working at the shop, only now he did so with considerably less on.  And while Nate was still considered an artist, tattoos were no longer his medium, unless you counted the ones covering his well-muscled body.  Now the art he perfected was bringing men pleasure.  Whether he used his huge rod, ample rear, or powerful muscles, Nate spent his days getting paid to get men off, and his nights practicing his craft for free.  It didn’t matter if the other men were gay or not.  Nate had plenty of straight clients, and plenty of straight men put their hands on his bobbing rod when he was out in public.  Something about him set him apart, making him desired by gay and straight men alike.  He topped, he bottomed, he tied people up and was bound in turn; whatever the client wanted, he’d provide.  And through it all, his enlarged cock never wavered or softened.  No matter how often he got off, his huge, rigid pole stuck out and pointed the way in front of him.  On the rare occasions when he would wear something on his lower half, it would always be open in the front to leave his obscenely large package unobstructed.  No one ever questioned why it was seen as normal for the hung, hulking stud to do what he did; it was just accepted as the way things were.  In fact, it would have been seen as crazy for someone to suggest that, at one time, Nate had been a clothes-wearing, smaller-dicked tattoo artist.  Even people who’d known him for years couldn’t picture him regularly wearing pants, and they couldn’t picture anything other than the thick, heavy snake between his sturdy legs.  

Nate certainly didn’t mind.  His daily life wasn’t all that different from before, with a few key exceptions.  Take away the pants and change what he actually did while he was at the shop, and his days weren’t all that different.  True, he was strictly interested in men now, but as long as he was getting off it didn’t bother him.  His love of fucking had been ramped up to another level entirely.  His permanent hardness wasn’t just for show; he was horny constantly.  More than the money, which was good on its own, the big man needed to get off as often as he did.  It didn’t even occur to him anymore to be embarrassed.  He loved people staring at his broad, brawny body, and if a stranger wanted to reach out and grab his girthy cock, he was happy to let them.  Giving a taste for free was good for business, after all.  

**********

Braden moaned, his head spinning.  He’d just watched his friend go from a straight tattoo artist to a gay, impossibly hung rent boy who walked around with his hard dick always exposed and ready.  Seeing his friend’s physical change was jarring enough, but then he’d spent what felt like hours watching his large friend fuck, or get fucked, by man after man.  Braden didn’t know what seemed more impossible; the changes to Nate’s body or the thought of his friend putting another man’s dick in his mouth.  

“What did you do to him…” Braden stammered when the visions faded. 

The small, dapper man looked down at him with a broad grin.  “Don’t look so concerned!  Your friend didn’t seem to mind.  Did you hear him with that last gentleman?  Those whimpering moans sounded quite satisfied.”  

Braden seethed.  The last gentleman in question had ridden Nate like a bull, roughly fucking his burly friend until he’d sprayed like a fire hose.  Despite the look of ecstasy on his friend’s sharp features, Braden couldn’t accept that Nate had liked it.  “But...he’s not...you can’t!”  

“I think we both know that I can.”  The man reached down and patted one of Braden’s cum-covered pecs gently.  The prone man’s cock still oozed a steady, seemingly endless stream.  Braden’s skin crawled at the creatures touch.  Though it looked like a finger, he’d felt a long, thin claw scrape against his chest.  “Who should we visit next?”  

Braden could only whimper and struggle against his invisible bonds as the images of his three remaining friends appeared around them.  

**********

“So you’re gonna call me tomorrow, right?”  

“Of course,” Chris said distractedly, only half looking up from his phone at the tall, thin brunette pulling her shirt on.  He wasn’t going to call her.  He didn’t even remember her name, and he wasn’t interested in finding out.  She’d gotten the better end of the deal, he thought to himself as he watched her get dressed.  Her ass DID look phenomenal in her tight leggings, but once they’d gotten down to it, he’d had much better.  Hell, he’d told himself during the mediocre blowjob, Nate was a better lay on his worst day.  Once you got past the mammoth cock, the burly, tattooed giant had a mouth and an ass that couldn’t be beat.  

He forced a smile and waved as she let herself out.  “Fuuuuck, I thought she’d never leave,” he yawned, dropping his phone and stretching his naked body on the bed.  He scratched at the patch of dark hair that grew in density as it spread into the deep valley formed by his appealing pecs before running down his washboard abs in a straight line.  It thickened again when it reached the manicured bush from which his impressively long cock and weighty balls sprung.  From there the dark hairs thinned around his small, solid cheeks and steely thighs until increasing in frequency again at his toned calves and large, wide feet.  

Chris looked over at the clock and finally rolled out of bed.  He was already an hour late to work, but he wasn’t concerned.  It was his dad’s firm, so it’s not like he was going to get fired.  He usually didn’t show up until the afternoon anyway, so by his own standards he’d be early.  His coworkers could complain all they want; all it did was make them look bad.  He knew his dad didn’t care either way.  His whole life, Chris had been nothing but a drain on the old man’s wallet and patience.  He’d been buying the young man’s way out of trouble since high school.  He’d tried to buy his son’s way into college, but even money only went so far when Chris wouldn’t put up so much as a token effort.  He was much more concerned with working out, partying, and getting laid than going to class.  None of that had changed much since getting kicked out of school, the only difference now was that he was more concerned with working out, partying, and getting laid than going to work.  

He sauntered into the bathroom and went through his morning inspection, flexing in front of the mirror and examining each of his large, defined muscles.  He was meticulous about his appearance.  His dark brown hair was cut weekly and the stubble on his lean, high cheeks was expertly maintained.  His body was the one area in his life where he managed any sort of discipline.  He never skipped a crossfit session or hedged on his diet, and it showed.  His shoulders were broad, his arms were built, and his waist was tiny.  Unlike Nate and Braden, he wasn’t interested in getting huge.  He wanted to be strong and lean, not big and bulky.  Every muscle was precision crafted to just the right size.  Coupled with his constantly tanned skin and six foot height, Chris was strikingly handsome.  There was a reason he went through women in rapid-fire succession.   

After a quick shower he slid on a pair of boxers and jeans, before reluctantly pulling on a fitted polo.  It was more casual than the dress code at work allowed, but he liked the way the straight-legged jeans looked, and the skin-tight shirt showed off his tapering waist while accentuating the meaty biceps that strained the openings of the sleeves.  Filled with resentment at the thought of having to show up at all for work, Chris gave a spoiled sigh and grabbed his gym bag on the way out the door.  

*********

Chris squirmed as he sat in traffic.  He was feeling restless and edgy from his subpar score the night before.  

“Ow..damn…” He was also feeling uncomfortable.  He winced, shifting his weight.  His legs were sore and his jeans felt like they were cutting off circulation.  All of this conspired to make his already feeble attempt at going to work seem like even more of a bad idea.  He was in a rotten mood, and if he was this uncomfortable after sitting in the car for twenty minutes, he couldn’t imagine that hours at a desk would be any better.  “Fuck it…” he sighed, driving past the turn off for his office.  Hitting the gym seemed like a much better idea.  

By the time he pulled into the parking lot he felt like he had leggings on.  He couldn’t figure it out.  He wore these jeans specifically because of how well they fit and how well they showed off his developed legs.  From his vantage point looking down those legs didn’t seem any bigger, yet when he went to climb out of his car he could barely move.  

“What the fuck is going on…” he muttered as he leaned into the backseat to grab his gym bag.  The loud ripping sound was like a gunshot.  “Fuck!”  Chris reached around and felt the large tear running right down the middle of the back of his pants, wide enough that his fingers brushed against the thin cotton of his boxers.  “Well so much for...these…” he trailed off as he kept pawing at his backside.  Something felt wrong.  Instead of two small, solid mounds of muscle, his cheeks seemed to keep going.  “...the hell is this…” he said under his breath, trying to look over his shoulder.  When that didn’t work he used his reflection in one of the car’s window, but told himself that the larger bubble in his shredded pants was just a trick of the curving glass. 

“Whoa!  Wardrobe malfunction?”  Brent, one of the regulars, laughed as Chris walked in.  

“Apparently,” Chris sighed, knowing he was never going to hear the end of it from everyone who saw him before he made it to the locker room.  Given how uptight he was about his appearance, he was sure that everyone was just waiting for a moment like this.  Which is why Brent’s next words were so unexpected.   

“I’m surprised you even tried jeans with that thing,” the sweating, shirtless man said, giving Chris’s half-exposed ass a swat.  

Chris froze.  The pat on the ass wasn’t out of the ordinary for the gym, it was the feeling of Brent’s hand on bare skin that caught his attention.  “Uh, lesson learned I guess,” he said, the words not making sense even as they left his mouth.  He waved to some of the other guys as he hurried to the back of the gym, trying not to think about their bemused expressions as they looked at his tattered jeans.  He frantically kicked his shoes off as soon as he reached the lockers and tugged the confining denim down. 

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sight.  His mouth opened and closed wordlessly as he paled, then turned a deep shade of embarrassed red upon seeing the neon pink thong he was somehow wearing.  The plaid boxers he’d just put on earlier that morning were nowhere to be seen.  He stared at the small garment in disbelief.  The thin material left his long, heavy cock and thick balls so well outlined that he might as well have been naked, but the true horror came when he went over to the mirrors.  

Instead of a set of small, solid cheeks, Chris found himself looking at a large, gravity defying bubble.  His ass had already pushed out far enough that the back of his tight polo rested on top of the globes, and he understood why people wondered at him trying to conceal something like that in a pair of tight skinny jeans.  

He shook his head at the thought, telling himself that he shouldn’t understand any of this.  He reached around and gave the globes a squeeze, blushing when he felt his fingers bite in.  They were still impressively solid, but that firmness was covered by a layer of soft, supple skin that was eager to bounce.  

Panicking, Chris pulled his polo off and inspected his reflection.  He eventually breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that the rest of his tight, sculpted body hadn’t changed.  Same impressive pecs, same ripped abs, same beefy arms, same dusting of hair; the only thing that appeared to have changed was his inflated backside.  

“‘Sup, Cakes?”  

Chris spun away from the mirror when Josh, one of the other regulars, came into the room.  He blushed when he realized what he was wearing and wished he’d just been naked instead.  He’d never worn anything like the pink thong in his life, so to be caught in nothing but was humiliating.  Or at least it should have been.  “Hey man,” he said casually, his eyes lingering on his friend as the other man undressed.  He watched Josh peel out of his sweaty muscle shirt and drop his shorts with more interest than usual, being especially captivated by the thick bulge in Josh’s grey briefs.  The other man was every bit as built as himself, and Chris suddenly felt insecure in his bright little underwear.  Something about his strange new feelings sent a rush of concern through him.  He was more than a little bothered to even have such feelings in the first place, but that wasn’t the real cause of his worry.  He forced himself to look away before Josh noticed his staring.  

“So what was with the jeans?”  Josh asked as he pulled his briefs down and let his thick, squat cock flop free.  

Chris felt like he was punched in the gut at the sight.  Fortunately Josh’s back was turned as he dug through his locker for a towel so he didn’t see Chris actually lick his lips.  “Oh...uh...I...don’t know…” Chris finally stuttered, realizing it was true even as he said it.  

He looked away just as Josh turned back around.  “Eh, it was worth a shot, right?” the other man laughed as he headed off to the showers.  

Chris turned back to his reflection, hoping that the sight of himself would remind him of who he was.  Instead, he felt like he was looking at a stranger.  His stomach was still fluttering from the view of Josh’s brawny, naked body, and those memories mixed with his heavy, outlined bulge in the tiny pink thong didn’t make him feel any better.  He hoped getting out on the floor would help.  At least he could cover up.  

His hope only lasted as long as it took for him to open his gym bag.  “Oh, cooooome on!”  Chris’s hands shook as he reached in and pulled out a pair of small, nylon running shorts.  He should have had a pair of standard length, black mesh shorts and a tank top, but the thin, white shorts were the only thing inside.  “This is...how is any of this…” he felt like he was going into shock as he pulled them on.  Not only was his bright pink thong visible through the thin material, the slits in the sides left most of his inflating cheeks exposed.  He was extra horrified when he passed the mirror on his way out to the floor and saw the prominent whale tail he was sporting.  He wanted to bolt, but his body was on autopilot.  Part of him knew this was all wrong, but a growing voice in his head told him he was being ridiculous.  

That voice was echoed by everyone else in the gym.  As terrified as Chris was by his circumstances, no one else batted an eye.  Aside from his new nickname of “Cakes”, it was more or less business as usual.  The “more or less” came from Chris’s growing inability to take his eyes off the other guys.  Instead of viewing them like competition as he usually did, he was viewing them the same way he eyed a hook up prospect at the bar.  And the longer he was around them, the more he got the impression that the other guys knew it.  They would teasingly flex when they knew he was watching and would go out of their way to give his bouncing new ass a swat.  

And bounce it did.  Chris had been mortified when he’d started working out and felt how vigorously his new additions shook and jiggled with each movement.  If he felt like everyone was staring at him, it’s because they were.  It was hard not to look at the lean, ripped man with the oversized bottom.  He’d continued to grow, and by the time he was done with his workout he looked like he had two basketballs strapped to his back.  His ass had reached massive proportions; much larger than someone should have been able to build through exercise alone.  And given how precision sculpted the rest of him was, the disproportionate size was even more jarring.  The shorts that had been revealing to start with were wedged between the growing cheeks so deeply that Chris was left almost entirely hanging out in the open.  

Surprisingly, the changing man was starting to enjoy it.  He liked the stares he got from everyone.  He’d always enjoyed using his looks to be the center of attention, and while he knew none of this should have been possible, that hadn’t changed.  Neither had his enjoyment of flirting.  The objects of his flirtation had changed drastically, but trying to charm the guys at the gym was hitting the same button as the ladies at the bar.  

Back in the locker room, Chris took his time in the shower, knowing full well that several of the other guys were watching his every move.  He specifically bent and shook his ass whenever he could to give them a show.  Instead of feeling insecure like he had when he first arrived, Chris felt confident and in control knowing that his impressive cheeks could make even the straightest man drool.  

When he got back to his locker and found another neon thong and a pair of cotton joggers instead of jeans, he wasn’t surprised.  His polo was gone too, replaced by a brightly colored, open sided muscle shirt.  He didn’t hesitate to pull them on, thoughts of his original clothing gone altogether.  Whatever new world he’d stumbled into, it was starting to gel.  

“Hey man, you headed into work?”  

Chris turned and saw Brent smiling at him.  The stocky, sculpted man had his gym bag slung over his shoulder and looked like he was just arriving.  “No, I think I’m taking the…” Chris swayed as the room seemed to spin around him.  Hadn’t Brent already been here when he’d arrived?  His confusion further grew when he saw the clock on the locker room wall said it was almost 9:30pm.  Chris could have sworn that it was late morning when he’d arrived.  “Shit!” he said, instead of giving voice to his confusion.  “I’m going to be late!  I’m supposed to go on at ten!”  

“You better hurry,” Brent laughed as Chris scrambled.  “I was gonna come by and see you later.”  

“You better,” Chris said, rubbing Brent’s flat, solid stomach as his lips brushed the shorter man’s ears.  

Chris didn’t think about where he was going or what he was doing as he ran to his car and sped off into the night.  He just knew he needed to get somewhere fast.  He started to get curious when he found himself in the college bar district, and even more curious when he was running down the sidewalk towards Mickey’s.  Chris didn’t stop to think about why he was rushing into a gay bar as he ran inside.  

“There you are!”  The large man behind the bar shouted over the crowd.  “You’re on in five!”  

“Sorry Mickey!”  Chris waved, flashing the charming smile he knew usually won people over.  Mickey just shook his head and pointed to a door in the back.  

“Hey dude,” Chris waved to the DJ as he opened the door and scrambled inside.  He was kicking off his shoes and peeling out of his shirt before the door even shut.  

“About time.”  A sculpted ginger in a glittery bikini sighed and rolled his eyes when Chris barreled through the door.  

“Sorry! It’s been a weird day,” he said as he shucked his joggers and adjusted the small neon thong.  

“You’re such a diva,” the ginger laughed, giving him a peck on the forehead.  “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”  

Chris snapped the elastic of the man’s bikini as the music started blaring.  It wasn’t until he stepped up behind the closed curtain that the reality of the situation hit him.  Chris was suddenly aware that he was in nothing but a hot pink thong, with an impossibly inflated ass, about to go out onto a stage in a crowded bar.  His heart started pounding as a nauseating wave of terror washed over him.  Why was he even there?  Why did he think this was his job?  How did he know these people?  

All of the racing thoughts came to a head just as the curtain split open.  His world narrowed to the bright glare of the lights and the sea of hungry faces staring up at him.  There was a pause, a single moment of hesitation, and then his body knew what to do.  Chris found himself out on stage gyrating and twerking to music like he’d done it countless times.  His movements were fluid and practiced, not the drunken flailing of his usual dance moves.  

The crowd loved it.  From the front, he was the all american man; sculpted muscles, ripped abs, hairy chested and hung.  But from the back, he was a thick cheeked twerk queen.  His obscenely inflated globes were in perpetual motion.  They shook, they bounced, they clapped on command.  His granite biceps and flopping package were impressive in their own right, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the real, shaking stars of the show.  

The night passed in a blur of stranger’s faces and stranger’s hands on his body.  Chris scooped up money that was thrown on stage and snapped it into the elastic of his thong, until that too came off and he was writhing around naked.  

As with the gym, he’d started the set terrified and ended it feeling like a pro.  He was flushed and sweaty and turned on by all the attention.  The crowd had thinned and he was taking a break by the bar to peruse his options when he felt yet another hand rest on one of his thick cheeks.  “You were on fire up there tonight.”  

Chris turned and saw Brent smiling sheepishly at him.  “Hey! Thanks!” he beamed and swallowed the other man in a bear hug.  “Did you catch the whole thing?”  

“I got here just as you were making them clap out the national anthem.”  

“They’re nothing if not patriotic,” Chris said, flexing a cheek against Brent’s palm.  “So, uh, you wanna go back to my place?”  

Brent nodded eagerly.  “I’d love to.”  

“Hey, Mickey, I’m out for the night.  I’ll come back for my cut tomorrow.”  He jerked his head towards Brent and winked.  The big man behind the bar just laughed and waved him off.  

Chris was back in his element.  Despite taking a guy home instead of a girl, he knew exactly what he was doing.  He had Brent’s shirt off and pants undone almost as soon as they’d walked in his door.  The short, burly man felt wonderful in his arms.  It was as if Chris’s love for smooth skinned, large breasted women had been inverted to buff, muscular men.  He didn’t question it.  His mouth was too busy working one of the tiny nipples on Brent’s buff chest as he slid the other man’s pants free.  He dropped to his knees and used his teeth to tug Brent’s briefs down, loving how the hardening cock felt against the side of his face.  Chris’s love for going down on women had carried over like the rest and he groaned against the thick, wide cock that filled his mouth.  

It was while his head bobbed hungrily back and forth that he finally realized what felt off.  Going down on a guy no longer seemed odd, but the long, limp cock that dangled between his powerful thighs didn’t feel right.  He was so turned on he felt like he would explode.  He should have been hard and throbbing, yet his cock didn’t twitch in the slightest.  

“Whoa...whoa...not so fast…” Brent laughed, pulling away. 

“Sorry...guess I’m eager…” Chris panted, rubbing his face against the slick rod.  

“Come on then.”  Brent pulled Chris to his feet and leaned in for a long kiss that lasted until Chris shoved the shorter man down onto the bed.  With the same fluid movement he’d shown on stage, Chris crawled on top until he was straddling Brent’s waist.  “OOOOOHhhhhhh…” Brent groaned when Chris popped his hips and his ample new rear swallowed him in one expert movement.  

“FFFFFuuuuuuuccccckkkk yesss…” Chris groaned, flexing his powerful arms behind his head as he felt pleasure like he’d never experienced before.  He let out a deep, contented sigh as he rocked on his knees and worked Brent in deeper.  His own impressive cock and heavy balls were still resting limply on Brent’s abs, but he no longer cared.  The sensations he felt from having the other man inside him were infinitely more intense than how it felt to be inside someone else.  “Ready?”  At Brent’s wide-eyed nod, Chris went to work.  He started rocking his hips and swaying on the other man’s lap while his dexterous hole worked Brent’s cock like a fist.  He bounced up and down, his mammoth cheeks never losing the vacuum seal they had on the whimpering man.  

Chris had another flash of terrified awareness when his limp dick started oozing.  Again, the handsome, athletic man from the front was contrasted with the supple, muscular cheeks in back.  Thoughts of all the women he’d fucked flashed through his mind as he realized that he’d never again be on the delivering end of things.  He stared down at his soft hose, trying, and failing, to remember what it looked like at its hardest.  Chris felt helpless as he realized, somehow, the world had changed around him.  

“GGGnnfff….guh...goddamn...you’re...goooooOOOHH….” Chris’s terror quickly faded at Brent’s loud groan.  The man’s stubby fingers bit into Chris’s hairy thighs as he shuddered with pleasure.  That’s when Chris knew.  He wasn’t being fucked by Brent, he was using his ass to fuck the other man.  He may have been the bottom, but it was clear who was in control.  As the memories of the women he’d fucked faded, new memories took their place.  Chris’s head filled with countless men who he’d worked just like he was working Brent.  In each of the memories, he wasn’t some submissive bottom, but a dominant, driving force.  

“Don’t quit on me yet,” Chris purred, kneading Brent’s pecs as he renewed his attack.  

**********

Braden gasped, his vision blurring.  He felt weak and disoriented as he squirmed on the altar.  His brain reeled at the thought of handsome, ladykiller Chris suddenly becoming a limp dicked queer.  It was too much.  Watching his friend dance around naked on stage had been bad enough.  Watching him thirstily bottom for another man was more than he could handle.  

“My, my,” the dapper man said, steepling his fingers and tapping them together.  “One of your friends is hard all the time, and one will never be hard again.  One grows in the front...one grows in the back.  Nature abhors a vacuum, I guess.”  The man tossed his head back and laughed, scooping up a fingerful of the ample cum still running across Braden’s buff frame.  He licked the finger clean and sighed.  “Who are we kidding.  Nature has nothing to do with this.  It does make me wonder, though, how you’ll end up.”  

“No...please...no more…” Braden pleaded.  The man shook his head and seemed to blur.   Braden had a flash of his true, monstrous appearance again and thought he saw large shapes moving in the night skies above them.  

“You know that won’t work.  It’s a sign of maturity to take your punishment like an adult, you know.”  He rubbed Braden’s thigh encouragingly.  “It’ll all be over soon.  Who should we visit next?”  

*********

Ryan cranked the shower on and stood under the tepid, meager streams that hissed through the rusty spout.  A dozen men of all shapes, sizes and ages did the same around him.  After almost ten hours of working the processing line the smell of dead fish was practically bonded to them.  It was a grueling job, but it suited Ryan perfectly.  He didn’t have to put much thought into what he was doing, the pay was decent, and it kept him active.  When his shift was over he could leave work at the plant and not think about it until he walked back through the doors.  It wasn’t a glamorous job, as evidenced by the open wall of crusted over shower heads in the dirty locker room, but they weren’t there for the accommodations.  

Ryan didn’t mind.  A job was a job.  He’d played enough sports in his youth that he’d long ago gotten over any shyness about showering in public, and now that he was in his early twenties prime, he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about anyway.  His stocky body was covered in a firm layer of burly muscle, that was itself covered in a thick carpet of dark hairs that matched his raven scalp.  His plump pecs bulged on top of his undefined but solid gut, and the hairy mounds were framed in by a matching set of broad shoulders and powerful arms.  His legs were equally built, with large, bouncing cheeks and wide, round thighs that terminated in a pair of surprisingly long feet given his overall size.  Despite his beefy build, standing at his tallest, Ryan was only 5’6”.  His handsome, square-jawed face with its constant stubble, dark features and brooding eyes didn’t matter.  His olive toned, hirsute complexion didn’t matter.  His eye catching rear and masculine, natural muscles didn’t matter.  The first thing that people, women in particular, noticed about him was his lack of height.  At least when he was clothed.  

Naked as he was in the showers, the first thing people noticed about him was the long, thick cock and heavy orbs that hung between his hairy thighs.  Soft, Ryan’s cock was a thick seven inches.  It would have seemed large on a person of average height, but given his short, stocky build, it looked absolutely massive.  He hated being as short as he was, but Ryan was grateful that he at least had a leg up on all the other guys where it counted.  He was at least twice as large as Dale, the naked man next to him, even though Dale stood almost six inches taller.  

“You got any plans for the weekend,” Dale asked, scrubbing his face with his hands.  

Ryan shook his head as he rinsed the shampoo from his short black hair.  “Nah.  Probably just the usual drinkin’ and fuckin’,” he said, scrubbing his furry pecs and laughing as he added, “hopefully.”  

Dale laughed as he rinsed his broad, weathered body.  “Just wait ten years til you’re my age.  Only gets harder.”  

Ryan aimed a slap towards the other man’s crotch, landing on his thigh.  “Really?  I heard it was the opposite when you got older.”  

Dale turned out of the way and reached over to crank the cold water on Ryan’s shower, laughing as the shorter man scampered out of the frigid stream.  “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll find out someday.  Or you can ask your dancer friend for a reference.”  

“Chris?”  Ryan grabbed his towel and started drying off.  His heavy cock twitched reflexively at the thought of his friend’s huge, supple rear.  

“Is that his name?  I never asked.  He’s not my usual type...but with an ass like that I don’t care who it’s attached to,” Dale sighed, shaking his balding head as he started drying off.  “I was thinkin’ of checking him out tomorrow if you’re interested.”  

Ryan nodded as he slid his boxer briefs up his meaty thighs.  “I haven’t caught his act in a minute.  He was showing me some of his new moves a couple weeks ago and...damn…” Ryan whistled admiringly at the memory.  He pulled on a red tanktop, tufts of dark hair sticking out around the edges that stretched tight and outlined his impressive chest.  His thick cheeks looked even larger against the shirt as it draped low and bubbled out over them.  He was trying to decide if he wanted to put forth the effort in landing a hookup from the bar that night, or if he just wanted to text Nate and see what his huge friend was up to.  

He stepped into his baggy jeans and slid his wide feet into his size 12 cross trainers, waving goodbye to Dale and the other guys.  He’d figure out his plans later.  The weekend was officially calling and he wanted to get as far from the plant as he could.  

**********

“Fuckin’ figures I’d come down with something on the weekend,” Ryan sighed, kicking off his shoes as he walked through his apartment door.  He’d started feeling “off” as soon as he left work.  He felt tired and sluggish and his head was starting to ache.  Even driving home had been a challenge as his arms became increasingly heavy on the wheel.  “Maybe a nap…” he muttered, unzipping his jeans and letting them drop.  

He stretched out on the couch in his boxer briefs and tank top, tossing and turning in a futile attempt to get comfortable.  The room spun around him when he closed his eyes, leaving him feeling drunk and disoriented.  He dozed in fitful intervals, dreaming of being crushed or buried as gravity itself seemingly increased its hold on him.  In his scattered state, Ryan chalked up the unaccustomed creaking of the couch to his dreams.  He fought for breath against the suffocating force, his meaty, furry chest rising and falling deeply in his slumber.  His dreams had switched to quicksand, sucking and pulling him down deeper and deeper.  

“Aaaagh!”  Ryan jerked awake with a loud yelp.  In his dreams the pressure had built and built until he’d finally felt a physical snap, causing him to bolt awake.  He stared dizzily around the room as he caught his breath and tried to get his bearings.  “Jesus...fuckin’ weird dreams,” he muttered, scratching at his hairy belly and letting his head drop back down.  “Oww! Fuck!”  Ryan winced when his head landed with a thud on the hard armrest.  He shifted on the couch but froze mid-turn.  “What the...hell…” He stared down in shock at the wide, hobbit feet that were pressed against the arm rest at the other end.  He wiggled his toes against it just to make sure it was real.  Given his short stature, Ryan should have been able to stretch his stocky frame out on the couch without touching both ends, but now he was in firm contact with each.  

He swung his legs over and climbed to his feet.  “Whoooaa…” he swayed unsteadily, feeling off balance and lightheaded as he looked around the room.  It was subtle, but everything seemed slightly out of place.  “What the fuck is going on…” he stammered, scratching again at his exposed abdomen.  He tugged on the tank-top, thinking that it had just ridden up in his sleep, but the now-small garment wouldn’t budge.  “Fuck!”  Ryan tore his hand away like he’d been shocked.  He stared down at the exposed patch of furry stomach between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his increasingly-tight underwear.  The tank should have draped below his waist, but now it stopped above his belly button.  

And it wasn’t just his shirt.  Ryan tugged at the bottom of the boxer briefs that had ridden up his beefy thighs to the point where they were starting to look like regular briefs.  The elastic was stretched near to breaking at his legs and his waist, and he could feel a breeze on the tops of his hairy cheeks from where it had ridden down in the back.  Ryan told himself that the smaller bulge in front was due to the shrinking fabric as he lumbered into his bedroom.  

The heavy, sluggish sensation of moving through water was starting to fade, but Ryan’s coordination was still off. He tripped over his feet more than once and bumped into walls and door frames.  When he reached for his closet door, he overshot and jammed his hand roughly into the knob.  “I can’t be...I mean...there’s no way I got taller…” he stammered as he pulled the door open to look at his reflection in the mirror on the back.  

Ryan’s jaw fell open at what he saw.  Looking at just his body with nothing to compare it to, he looked the same.  His proportions hadn’t changed; he still had the same stocky build, the same handsome features, and he was still covered in a carpet of dark hair.  When compared to the world around him, though, there was no denying that he’d grown.  His tank-top looked two sizes too small, and his straining underwear was about to burst.  Even the door itself pointed to his new size when Ryan noticed that the knob hit lower on his body than it should.  It was the same with the dresser next to him and the bed behind him.  Everything seemed smaller than it had been.  

“No way…no way!”  Ryan gave a drunken laugh, his confined cock twitching.  He’d spent his whole life feeling smaller than everyone, and the thought that he was suddenly on their level was intoxicating.  The sight of his burly body straining against clothing that was too small for once turned him on like nothing else.  He fished his throbbing cock free and stroked it, staring at his reflection.  He puffed his chest and stomach against the small shirt, laughing as he watched it strain.  He did the same for his underwear, bouncing and flexing his rotund cheeks until there was a loud rip and a large tear formed between the hairy globes.  

“This is insane!”  Ryan was elated as he casually grabbed the underwear and tore them from his expanding body like paper.  He’d been strong at his previous size and his muscles had clearly grown to keep up with his new height.  He was starting to look like a powerlifter with his thick muscles and widening frame.  If he’d been “stocky” before, now he was officially “burly.”  

He wrapped a meaty fist around his bobbing pole and paused mid-stroke.  His rigid cock was the one part of him that didn’t seem to keep up with the impossible growth spurt.  With his changing frame of reference he couldn’t be sure, but his girthy hose looked smaller.  He tugged on it and squeezed his furry balls as if he was checking a fruit for ripeness instead of going for the measuring tape.  He was too caught up in what he was feeling to focus on anything else for long.  He turned from the mirror and kept tugging as he wandered around his room, comparing himself against every piece of furniture.  He did the same for the rest of his apartment, walking and jerking until he’d stood next to everything he could find.  He saved his bed for last, laughing out loud at the creaking sound it made when he dropped onto it.  

“Oh fuck yes!” he exclaimed triumphantly at how small the formerly vast queen bed felt.  “This is so nuts!  I’m like...I’m like Nate size!”  Ryan groaned at the mental image of his large, muscular friend, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to see him.  His expanding skin tingled at the thought of Nate’s touch and Ryan’s pumping became more vigorous.  

If he hadn’t been so distracted, Ryan would have questioned his unaccustomed eagerness.  Nate was a good lay when he didn’t have any other options, but his mouth had never watered at the thought of the other man before.  Now, all Ryan wanted was to compare his growing body against his friend’s to see who was bigger.  With a loud grunt he finally came, thinking of the tattooed giant the entire time.  

As soon as he’d stopped spurting, Ryan almost frantically struggled to get dressed.  He knew that Nate should still be at the shop if he got there soon.  In his haste it never occurred to him to simply text his friend that he was coming, since Ryan’s attention was entirely consumed by trying to get dressed.  His largest pair of boxer briefs had the same precarious hold as his shredded ones, but his pants were another story.  The normally baggy jeans were skin-tight and far too short.  The bottoms traveled well up his calves and he was unable to button them shut, but the tightness at least kept them in place.  Something in Ryan’s brain told him he shouldn’t be leaving the house dressed as he was, but his body ignored that part entirely as he raced to his car.  

He barely made it to the shop.  What should have been a routine drive turned into several wrong turns, complete with running redlights and near collisions.  Ryan didn’t understand it.  He should have been able to make the drive in his sleep, but it was all he could do to keep the car moving.  Instead of ingrained muscle memory from years of driving, his brain was overloaded with all the simultaneous tasks it needed to perform behind the wheel.  It was pure luck that he arrived at all, let alone in one piece.  

“Uh, hey big guy,” Chad laughed when he looked up and saw Ryan walk dazedly through the door in his ill-fitting clothes.  He hopped up from his work station and clapped the now-tall man on a hairy shoulder.  “You okay?” he asked, shooting Eric a look to go get Nate.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’m...fine…” Ryan stammered.  The six foot Chad should have been taller than him, yet Ryan found himself looking down at the other man.  He wasn’t just taller; his broad, furry body dwarfed the lean artist.  

“Hey! ‘Sup bud?”  Ryan felt his knees go weak at the sight of his smiling, tattooed friend as Nate came over.  He had on a loose muscle shirt but was naked from the waist down save for a pair of cross trainers.   Ryan’s eyes immediately dropped to his friend’s rigid, exposed pole while Nate looked him up and down.  “What are you wearing,” the sculpted man asked with an exasperated laugh.   

Ryan opened his mouth but was too shocked to speak.  Nate should have towered over him, both in height and build.  He should have been able to pick Ryan up and carry him if he’d wanted, but now Ryan found himself looking the 6’4” man directly in the eye.  Even their bulk was similar.  Nate may have been smooth and sculpted where Ryan was furry and meaty, but both were equally broad and imposing.  

“Did you get confused again?” Nate asked gently.  “How did you even get here?”  

His friend’s condescending tone didn’t register.  “I...drove?” he said, finally finding his voice.  

Nate looked genuinely surprised.  “You what?!”  He went over to the door and looked out, but the only cars in the parking lot belonged to the three men who worked there.  “I dunno man...I don’t see any other cars out here.”  

Ryan lumbered over and saw the same, confused as to why he thought he should have a car out there.  He couldn’t drive, could he?   “Oh...umm...I dunno…” he shrugged his heavy shoulders with an awkward laugh.  “I wanted to see you.”  

“We’ve talked about this, bud.  Let me know and I can come to you,” the tattooed giant sighed.  “But since you’re here…” Nate winked and nodded for Ryan to follow him back to his room, fully aware that the furry hulk’s gaze was glued to his bare, shifting cheeks.  “Alright...let’s get you outta these clothes,” Nate said, shaking his head as he struggled to get the tank top off Ryan’s inflated, barrel torso.  “Where did you even find these?  I’m surprised you managed to get these jeans...on...at all…” Nate grunted, tugging the skin-tight denim free.  

“I had them at home…” Ryan said, the memory suddenly hazy.  

“Did you accidentally take someone else’s from work?  Or did some guy leave them there?”  Nate sighed when he looked at Ryan’s confused expression.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, giving Ryan’s furry cheeks a slap as he removed the confining boxer briefs.  “There we go!”  

Ryan let out a dull giggle at being free from the restricting clothes.  He gave his bearish body a shake, his cock twitching and hardening immediately.  “That’s...better…” he said absently, looking down at himself.  Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  

Nate solved the problem for him.  “So what’re we doing?  You giving me this,” he said, swallowing Ryan’s entire package in one large hand, “or did you want to go for a ride?”  

“I...uh…” Ryan’s heart started racing.  When Nate pulled his hand away it finally registered that the solid, three inch nub between his round thighs was very wrong.  He should have had a thick hose and heavy balls equal to his friend, not a squat little poker that looked even more miniscule on his enlarged body.  He looked over at the mirror and saw the two of them, his immense new size all the more apparent compared to the gym built hulk.  Ryan didn’t know how to feel.  He’d  always made up for his lack of height with the size between his legs, but now that he could go toe-to-toe with any guy in terms of height and build, he was still the smallest guy in the room.  

“Both?” Nate asked with a cocky grin, misinterpreting Ryan’s pause as indecision.  He slowly peeled off the muscle shirt, flexing his tight abs and bulging pecs in the process.  “Well...since you came all the way down here…” 

Ryan moaned when Nate leaned in and started kissing his neck.  His arms reflexively reached over to wrap around his friend’s trim waist while his hands dropped to the round, solid globes.  Every inch of his expanded body was on fire.  He pressed himself tight against his friend, not knowing why.  When he’d utilized Nate’s services before, it was always utilitarian.  Nate could get him off, but in the back of his mind he could never fully overlook the fact that his friend was a guy.  Any port in a storm, he’d told himself.  A hole was a hole when you’re desperate.  But there had never been any kissing, and certainly never any groping.  And it had never felt like this. 

Ryan’s pudgy little cock was throbbing painfully by the time he climbed on top of Nate’s prone frame.  He loved the sensation of his friend’s strong thighs on his shoulders as he hefted the other man’s legs into the air and worked himself in.  

“OOHHHHhhh….there it is…” Nate groaned, his sharp features twisted by pleasure.  “Fuuuck...fuck yes...give it to me…” the tattooed stud writhed and whined while Ryan pumped away like it was the best fucking of his life.  In truth, he could barely feel it.  His friend’s tiny rod barely penetrated, let alone reach where it needed to.  At least the ample hair on Ryan’s furry gut felt good as it tickled the underside of his own massive rod.  He made sure his beefy friend never knew he was faking.  Nate knew that Ryan wasn’t smart enough to figure it out on his own, and he was a professional, after all.  He let out a high pitched, voice cracking moan that caused Ryean to beam with pride before pulling his friend’s face down to plant a rough kiss.  “You wanna switch?”  

Ryan nodded eagerly and slid back, letting Nate’s legs drop.  They swapped spots so that the hairy man was on his back while Nate deftly lined himself up.  There was a small voice in Ryan’s brain screaming at him that all of this was wrong.  His body, Nate’s body, his foggy head, their actions; none of it was right.  The realization, and the accompanying rush of horror, lasted only as long as it took for Nate to slide inside.  “UUUUUUNNNNNNnnhhhhhh!” Ryan arched his back and bellowed, his world narrowing to the bliss-giving organ sliding in and out of him.  He couldn’t remember what he’d just been worried about and he didn’t care.  His only concern was that the man on top of him keep going.  “Oh yeah...ohhhh yeahh...uh...uh…” he grunted wildly while Nate smiled down at him.  His small cock oozed steadily against his hairy belly but he wasn’t bothered by its size anymore.  His world had opened up to include avenues of pleasure that didn’t even involve it, so why should he care?  

Nate was relieved as he watched Ryan’s expression take on its usual look of dim contentment.  He’d been worried ever since his bear of a friend arrived.  Ryan wasn’t smart enough and couldn’t focus long enough to be worried by much of anything, so he couldn’t figure out what was going on.  He was still a little curious about where Ryan got the clothes, or why he thought he could drive.  It wouldn’t be the first time some guy had taken advantage him.  He also knew that Ryan got confused sometimes, though, so anything was possible.  He and Chris tried to keep an eye on him, but he was starting to wonder if they should think about talking him into moving in with one of them.  He got into trouble when he was left on his own.  “How ya doin’ buddy,” he asked, alternating between quick jabs that caused Ryan’s beefy pecs to bounce, and long, slow thrusts.  

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna…” Ryan panted, wide eyed.  Nate grinned and gave a deep jab, causing Ryan to gasp and shudder as his tiny cock spurted wildly.  

“There’s my guy,” Nate purred, bucking softly until every drop had sprayed out of his friend.  

Ryan sighed and stretched as Nate pulled out.  “Did you…?”  

Nate shook his head, kicking his legs over the side and sitting on the edge.  “Nah...but it’s not important.  You did, and that’s what counts.”  

“I wanna see!”  Ryan sat up next to him and wrapped a meaty paw around Nate’s permanently solid rod.  He loved how big it felt in his hand, unlike his own tiny member.  

“You don’t have...haha...okay then…” Nate sat back, his powerful triceps flexing under his weight while Ryan pumped him.  He was already close, so it didn’t take long before his mammoth hose erupted.  He couldn’t help but smile at Ryan’s simple laughter as his friend almost amazedly watched the impressive geyser.  “Alright bud, I think you got it,” he said, guiding Ryan’s hand away.  “Thanks for that.”  He gave Ryan a peck on the top of the head and cleaned the furry man up.  When he and the room were wiped up, he pulled Ryan to his feet and handed him the muscle shirt he’d been wearing earlier.  “That should fit better.  You can wear these, too,” he said, following it up with a bright jock.  Ryan pulled them both on, loving how his thick torso spilled out around the muscle shirt and not even batting an eye at the loose, floppy pouch of the jock.  “I don’t have much in the way of pants, but I think someone left some...here we are!”  

“Do I have to?” Ryan waited for Nate’s stern nod before he pulled on the offered track pants.  They were tight, but not like the jeans had been.  

“Alright, it’s time for us to close up for the night.  Go talk to Eric and Chad while I close up in here and I’ll give you a ride, okay?”  Nate gave Ryan a swat on his full rear and sent him out into the shop, wondering what they were going to do with the big man.  

********

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.  He always wanted to be bigger.”  

Braden barely registered the man’s voice.  His oozing cock hadn’t stopped and his buff body was covered from head to toe in a slimy film.  On top of everything he’d seen, he felt like he was losing touch with reality altogether.  Ryan hadn’t been the smartest of his friends, but watching the short man grow into a tiny-dicked brute had been horrifying.  Nate’s involvement hadn’t helped, either.  Seeing the two of them together made it seem, as impossible as it should have been, like the world really was being changed.  

He shuddered when the man turned his attention back to him.  “Don’t fade away on me yet.  We’re still not done.”  The note of mock concern adding menace to his voice.  

“No...just...just stop...don’t…” his whimpers cut off when an image of Dave hiking through a patch of sunny woods appeared before them.  He wished he could scream a warning to his friend, but he knew it was hopeless.  

*********

Dave shivered, feeling suddenly like he was being watched.  He froze and looked around, but couldn’t see or hear a sign of anyone else.  He was miles from the nearest trail, so he didn’t expect to run across anyone else.  The seclusion is why he specifically liked this spot.  The river turned, forming a natural basin that was the perfect swimming hole.  He’d run across it years ago while hunting and had been coming back ever since.  The remoteness and beauty of the surroundings made it a perfect spot to bring ladies to when he was trying to get laid, and it was his go-to on days like today when he wanted to be by himself.  

Convinced that he was alone, he stripped out of his t-shirt and kicked off his shoes.  He let his shorts drop, stepping out of them and dipping his toes in the water while still in his grey briefs.  If anyone had been watching, they would have admired the sight.  Dave was of average height and naturally built, with rugged, handsome features.  His brown hair was shaggy and unkempt, stopping just above his sparkling blue eyes.  There was a constant stubble on his cheeks that obscured his full, soft lips while drawing attention to his prominent, square jaw.  The stubble led down his long neck to his broad, lean shoulders and the strong arms that hung off them.  Since he spent most of his time outside instead of in a gym, Dave wasn’t sculpted like some of his friends.  He had a set of defined, eye-catching pecs above a firm, trim waist, and a matching pair of solid, hairy thighs.  A perky bubble filled out the back of his briefs while a heavy bulge nestled in front.  His skin had a constant tan from countless hours out in the sun and was covered in a smattering of dark brown hair.  If he’d been on the west coast, he could have passed for a surfer.  

In the wilds of New England, he spent his time hunting, fishing, and camping instead.  Dave was never happier than when he was alone in the wilderness.  He worked in a kitchen, so he was constantly crammed around other people in a tight space.  His attempt at getting a degree in horticulture had only lasted two semesters.  He didn’t have the patience for school.  Instead, he had a job that paid the bills and spent as many of his off hours as he could in the wilderness that he loved.  

It worked out for everyone.  The woods in this part of the country were vast and full of secrets that, after decades of hiking them, he was still uncovering.  Lately he’d even found some new spots that he and Braden could use when they wanted to have a “group outing” with some of the local girls.  

Dave smiled at the thought and dropped his briefs.  He closed his eyes, loving how the fresh air and sun felt on his naked body, before wading out into the river.  

**********

Dave floated contentedly in the sun.  The cold water on his naked body was equal parts invigorating and relaxing.  Even though he knew he was alone, he still felt an exhibitionist thrill at the thought of being naked outside.  Part of him wanted someone to come by and find him.  He knew his lean, defined body looked good.  

“Dave!  Hey!”  

Dave’s eyes shot open and he blushed at the unexpected voice.  He’d just been thinking about someone finding him, and now he saw two young men cresting the hill and coming towards him.  He didn’t know why he thought of them as “young.”  They looked to be in their early twenties like himself, but something about that didn’t sit right.  

One of the two men, a sandy blonde whose chiseled muscles bulged out of his tank-top, smiled and waved.  “Right where you said it was!”  

“Not too hard to find, right?”  The words left Dave’s mouth before he thought about them.  He had no idea who these two men were or what was going on, but everyone, himself included, acted like this wasn’t the first time they’d met.  He cleared his throat.  Their content wasn’t all that made his words sound wrong.  His voice was hoarse and scratchy.  

“How’s the water?”  The other man, a brunette with a build like his friend, asked as he stripped out of his plastered-on top.  

“Cool, but you get used to it quick,” Dave said, his eyes going wide at the sight of the young man’s precision sculpted torso.  His cock throbbed confusingly at the smooth, perfectly proportional pecs and washboard stomach.  He lingered on the strip of exposed elastic sticking out of the other man’s baggy shorts while his blonde friend similarly disrobed.  

Dave’s heart started pounding.  It wasn’t just their impressive bodies he was dwelling on.  He found himself staring lustfully at their handsome faces, noticing their full lips, their strong jaws, their sparkling teeth.  Things he never paid attention to on other guys started jumping out at him.  Their smooth, tanned skin looked appealingly soft, a sharp contrast to their granite bodies that made Dave’s mouth water.  He gazed at their profiles when they turned to each other, loving the slight arch to their spines that led to the perky, round globes bubbling out the back of their shorts.  

“You sure weren’t lyin’,” the blonde said, looking around at the forest while he undid the fly of his shorts.  “It’s gorgeous out here.”  

“Right?”  Dave said, his eyes never leaving the increasingly exposed patch of the other man’s bulging briefs.  His whole body tingled with anticipation as the young man let them drop, his meaty thighs and stuffed bulge shaking as he kicked them free.  Staring at the small red briefs, Dave couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more turned on.  

“I see why you like it out here,” the brunette said with a wry grin as he dropped his shorts, exposing an equally stuffed pair of black briefs.  “If you hadn’t told us how to get here we’d never have found it.  Nice and private,” he winked.  

“Exactly.  In the twenty years I’ve been comin’ out here I’ve never had anyone else show up unless I told ‘em first.”  The timeline didn’t make sense, but Dave’s confusion was immediately forgotten when both men slid their briefs down.  The sight of the two young, sculpted adonises hit Dave like a physical force.  Their shredded bodies, with the long, thick cocks and manicured bushes, were like works of art.  It dawned on him that he wasn’t viewing them as his peers.  His usual confidence was nowhere to be found as he suddenly felt ugly and eager to do whatever it took to please the golden duo.  

“Whoa...that IS cold…” the blonde laugh, wading out into the chilly water.  He turned back to his friend on the bank and splashed.  “Come on!”  

Dave loved watching the brunette’s powerful muscles flex and shift as he deftly avoided the water.  “Fuck you, dude!  I’m coming!”  He said, raising his meaty arms above his broad shoulders and launching himself into the water.  

Dave’s laugh joined with the blonde’s, and as the water washed over them, so did a rush of memories.  He suddenly remembered where he’d met the two.  Mark, the blonde, and Pat, the brunette, had been at the club the other night when they’d all been out watching Chris dance.  He’d zeroed in on the two young, shirtless men from across the room, casually working his way over until he was close enough on the crowded floor to brush against them.  He loved how their tight, smooth bodies felt against his hairy, beefier frame.  

Even in his memories, it felt wrong.  Dave wondered at thinking of himself as “beefy”, but that was HIS hairy stomach in the memories.  His shredded abs were gone, replaced by a lean, firm stomach that had a coating of salt and pepper hair on it.  Dave searched the flashback, looking down at a set of burly pecs covered in the same layer of hair.  He still had his strong arms, but like the rest of him, they were less defined, and his skin seemed rough and weathered.  

Mark’s hands on his shoulders pulled him back to the present.  He didn’t know how long he’d spaced out for, but Mark and Pat had been splashing around for a while.  He looked over and saw the young man’s fingers sliding through the patches of hair above the burly arms from his memory.  “Still with us,” he asked, pressing his naked body against Dave’s.  

“Sorry...easy to drift off out here,” Dave sighed as the young man’s strong hands drifted down to knead his meaty chest.  Pressing his ass back against Mark’s hardening cock was a reflex.  

“Just remember...this water’s cold…” Pat looked embarrassed as he made his way over to join them.  

Without thinking, Dave’s hand shot forward to grab Pat’s bobbing package.  “Doesn’t feel like that’s a problem,” he said, gasping when Mark’s hands dropped to do the same to him.  

“Winner’s all around,” Mark said smugly, giving Dave’s thick cock a stroke while working his own rigid pole between the older man’s plump cheeks.  

That was all it took.  The three men fell on each other in a flurry of groping hands and mouths.  Dave moaned as he was sandwiched between the two of them, his lips pressed against Pat’s while Mark’s mouth worked its way down his neck.  Then they’d switch, and it would be Pat pressed against his back while Mark worked both of their aching rods together under the water.  Then Dave would find himself watching longingly while Pat and Mark went at each other until they pulled him back in.  

The trio had been making their way towards the shore and as soon as their waists broke the surface, Dave grabbed each man by their solid cock and pulled them over to the blanket he’d spread out on the water’s edge.  Without waiting for direction, he dropped to his knees and swallowed the first cock he saw, working the other with a rough fist.  

“oOOHhh…” Pat moaned, his fingers dropping to Dave’s short hair while the older man’s face bobbed back and forth.  

Dave had no idea what he was doing.  His body was moving with expert coordination, his bobbing head and pumping fists never breaking rhythm while he expertly switched back and forth between each of the young men.  He was still confused by what he saw of his own body.  As he’d stumbled out of the water he’d seen his reflection and it didn’t make sense.  His body was thicker, and wider.  The legs he knelt on were meaty and full, not lean and wiry.  He was even starting to think of himself differently.  It wasn’t just that these men seemed younger; he actually seemed older.  He felt the weight of his advancing age when the two men pulled away and he dropped down onto all fours.  The unaccustomed mass seemed to shift, and he finally noticed how much lower and heavier his furry balls hung behind a seemingly thickened cock.  

The concerns about his changing body were pushed aside when Mark slid into him.  “OOOOHHHHHhhhh fuuuuuckkkk…” Dave grunted, clutching at the ground.  His initial shock at being fucked by another man only lasted as long as it took for the first wave of bliss to hit him.  He let out a hoarse whimper as, like before, his body started responding instinctively.  He quickly worked his bouncing cheeks in time with Mark’s pounding until the panting blonde needed a break and Pat took his place.  

Dave thought about what he must look like; his hairy, rugged body getting tag-teamed by two smooth studs half his age.  Instead of horror, the thought only drove him on.  “UUhhh...huh...uh-huh...ohhh yeah….fu...fuck my old...hairy ass...” he begged, bucking and writhing on the ground.  “Please...let me...let me suck one of those...fat...young cocks…” he pleaded.  He heard the two chuckle, but Mark came around and slapped Dave’s grizzled cheek with his oozing pole.  

“Alright, old timer, if you insist,” the blonde hunk sneered, shoving himself deep in Dave’s mouth.  

Dave moaned around the cock sliding in and out of his mouth while Pat continued pounding him from behind.  Mark matched his friend’s pace, fucking Dave’s mouth with deep, long plunges.  

The older man was practically vibrating with pleasure.  Under his closed lids his eyes had rolled back as he inhaled the musky scent that filled his nostrils from having his face buried in Mark’s trimmed, sandy bush.  His whole body shook from Pat’s jackrabbit pounding as the other man neared completion.  He never wanted it to end.  Being stuffed from both ends by two athletic young men was all he needed in life.  Whatever they wanted, he’d do, no matter how embarrassing.  A part of him shrank from the realization that the more humiliating the demand, the more it turned him on.  He actually looked forward to being debased and used by younger guys.   

“Oh fuck...fuck dude...I’m gonna…” Pat broke off in a gasp as he exploded into Dave, who did the same.  The warm, sticky fluid spraying into him pushed him over the edge.  He tensed and spasmed, moaning loudly around Mark’s throbbing cock that was buried deep in his throat.  

“Whoooaaa…” Mark laughed, his perfect chest rising and falling rapidly.  “Whatever you just did he must’ve liked,” he said condescendingly to his friend.  

“I...liked it too…” Pat panted, bucking his hips a few more times before pulling his softening hose free.  

“I’m...almost….there…” Mark said through gritted teeth.  He pulled out of Dave’s mouth just in time to cum all over the older man’s face.  

Dave gasped with pleasure, opening his mouth to try and catch as much of it as possible.  When Mark was done he collapsed onto the blanket to catch his breath, loving the smug expressions of the two younger men staring down at him.  

“I think we wore him out,” Mark grinned.  

Pat stretched, his ripped torso flexing.  “Pretty impressive stamina for a guy his age, though.”  

“Just...just give me a minute and I’ll be good to go again,” Dave said, struggling upright.  He watched the two young studs splash back out into the water, envying their seemingly boundless energy.  They were like puppies while he felt like an old bulldog.  He sighed and crawled over to the bank to wipe the drying cum from his face.  “Wait...is that…” He froze at his reflection.  The grizzled face, with stubbled cheeks and receding hairline, belonged to someone who had to be pushing fifty.  His short, salt and pepper hair and creviced features were still handsome, but they felt foreign.  He still looked like the lean, fit man he’d been in his younger days, but his body had filled out with age.  At forty seven, a slower metabolism made staying lean harder, so he’d tried to put on some more mass over the years.  If he had to get bigger, he at least wanted it to be muscle. He saw a time-lapse in his head, his lean, ripped body slowly expanding.  Bit by bit the definition faded as he slowly inflated.  His hairline pulled back while the stubble on his cheeks became a fixture that matched the increasingly prevalent hair on the rest of his body.  Pert nipples grew large and hard on the edges of his bulging pecs while his arms looked more like pistons than whipcords.  He watched his cock thicken and droop while his balls stretched ever lower between thighs that rounded and pushed towards each other.  His tiny ass grew outwards under a layer of soft, yielding flesh that left him with a bouncing set of globes.  He hadn’t grown huge like some of his body-building friends.  He’d never liked spending that much time inside a gym.  He still had a natural, rugged build from spending his time outside, just one that was appropriate, even impressive, for a guy his age.  

Dave shook his head and climbed to his feet, feeling foolish for getting worked up over his own reflection.  He remembered his younger days, but he hadn’t thought about himself like that in years.  “You’re losin’ it, old man,” he laughed as he splashed out to join his young friends.  

*********

Braden didn’t know if he should be horrified or relieved at his friend’s transformation.  He’d watched Dave morph into an older man and then get fucked by a pair of guys that should have been his own age, but at least that meant things were nearing the end.  

“Pl...please...I…” Braden broke into a sputtering cough as the ever-oozing cum flowed into his mouth.  

“Careful now,” the slight, dapper man said, wiping Braden’s chin and mouth.  Despite it’s appearance, the alien, inhuman feel of the hand made Braden’s skin crawl.  “What was that you were saying,” the man asked, licking his fingers clean.  

“Please...that’s everyone...let me go…” 

“Note quite.  That’s all of your friends, true, but that still leaves you.”  

Braden’s stomach sank.  He’d hoped the humiliation from having been stripped and constantly cumming all over himself would have been enough.  “No!  You can’t!  Not me!”  He thrashed weakly and tried to sit up, but found himself glued to the slab.  

The dapper man made a tutting sound and shook his head.  “It’s funny that you didn’t fight for your friends that strongly.  What would they think if they knew this was all your fault?  How would they want you to end up?”   

**********

Braden felt the sticky fluid begin to stiffen.  Like water turning to ice, it expanded as it hardened, taking on the same rough texture as the stone beneath him.  

“No!  Please! I’m sorry! Don’t do this!” Braden shrieked as the enveloping firmness crept inexorably up his trembling body.  It was reaching along his sides and up the back of his head.  

“Have a bit of dignity,” the creature next to him hissed.  It had shed all pretense of humanity, taking on it’s monstrous, spindly form.  It’s many legs twitched excitedly as it’s toothy gash of a mouth spread into a broad smile.  “You performed your rites here.  You opened the door.  You called to the other side and the other side answered.” Braden desperately tried to pull his head away as the creature leaned in close, its clawed, hairy fingers gently caressing his forehead.  Its breath was like ice and smelled of rotting flowers.  “This is your gift,” it chittered, razor teeth clacking.  “Men have killed for such knowledge.  Never forget.”  

Braden thrashed uselessly against the growing cocoon.  His horrified face was all that remained free, and not for much longer.  The encasing hardness spread up over his chin while it flowed down his forehead to meet in the middle.  Braden had one last look at the clear night sky and the constellations that seemed to swirl and move before he was entombed.  

The silence was deafening.  Braden couldn’t hear his own breathing or his heart beat.  Even the usual ringing in his ears was absent.  He couldn’t move or feel any sensation.  There was no rough stone against his skin or temperature of any kind, and the darkness was complete.  He wondered if this was what being dead was like; trapped in a body, still aware, but helpless.  Images of his friends and what had been done to them seemed to float before him in the void.  He saw himself from the creature’s vantage, his handsome, powerful body glued to the slab by his own oozing cum.  

“I’m dead,” he thought, unable to speak.  “This is hell...stuck in the dark...reliving this over and over.”  The memories shifted to all the times he and his friends had brought unwitting prey to the stones, only this time his memories had him in the place of the victim.  He saw himself debased and violated over and over by his laughing friends in their original, unaltered bodies.  One by one they transitioned from their former selves to the new versions until they were all going at each other in a frenzy of lust with Braden at the center.  

Sensation came rushing back.  Braden wasn’t floating through a darkened limbo anymore, he was writhing in the middle of his altered friends.  He tried desperately to free himself even as he heard the deep, pleasured moans escaping his lips.  

“Oohhh...n...nooo…” he groaned, trying to scramble away. He felt invisible bonds holding him in place and thrashed harder.  “No...nnnoooo….NOOO!” Braden was blinded by a sudden light and felt himself falling.  Instead of the endless drifting through darkness, the falling sensation only lasted a second before he landed on the floor of his bedroom in a tangle of blankets.  

“Oh fuck...oh fuck…” he panted, his thick chest heaving.  Instead of sticky cum, he was covered in glistening sweat, and instead of a stone cocoon, he was bound up in blankets.  He frantically pulled the bedding from him and bounded down the hallway to the bathroom.  The water was still ice cold as he staggered into the shower and started scrubbing himself until the soap ran out.  “Just a dream...just a dream…” he stammered over and over while he inspected every inch of himself.  He could still practically feel the warm, sticky cum covering him from head to toe.  His brawny frame appeared unchanged but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling as he toweled off and stared at himself in the mirror.  His thick brown hair and handsome features looked the same, and as he flexed his powerful arms, his beefy, ample muscles looked the way they should.  

He laughed at himself for getting so worked up over a nightmare as he sauntered down the hall to the kitchen.  “It felt so real…” he said under his breath, the dream replaying in his mind as he stood naked at the counter and made coffee.  He hoped the caffeine would help get rid of the groggy disorientation he was feeling.  While the memories of the dream were vivid, he couldn’t remember what he’d done the night before.  It was already early afternoon so he’d clearly had a late night, but doing what was the question.  He grabbed his coffee and headed back for his room, shaking his head to try and clear the mental cobwebs.  He paused just outside the threshold, his heart starting to race as he looked down and noticed that he was carrying two mugs.  Looking back up, he saw that he wasn’t alone.  

“Is that coffee I smell?”  

Braden’s jaw dropped in shock when he saw a sleepy Dave roll over in bed.  His friend looked the way he’d ended up in the nightmare; beefy, rugged, and middle aged.  It had been one thing watching it happen from a distance, but seeing Dave’s plumped, hairy pecs and salt-and-pepper beard, and hearing his deep, hoarse rumble in person was another matter entirely.  Braden’s knees went weak and his stomach fluttered, but as his eyes came to rest on the large tent in the thin sheet, he realized it wasn’t from fear.  He felt his cock throb and looked down in confused terror when he saw that it was not only still soft, it looked considerably larger.  His thick six inches looked closer to nine, but despite the rush of arousal he felt at the sight of his friend, it hung long and limp in front of his inflated balls.  He remembered how Nate’s cock had grown, but unlike his friend’s permanent rigidity, his enlarged hose showed no signs of life.  

“Everything okay,” Dave asked, a sleepy grin on his weathered face as he watched Braden stare at himself.  

Braden didn’t know how to respond.  The room felt like it was spinning around him and the floor had dropped out from beneath him.  A hissing voice in his head whispered “never forget” as he opened his mouth to speak.  “Uh...yeah...I think…” he said softly.  He’d wanted to unleash a frenzied recounting of his dream and what had happened to his friend, but the words didn’t come.  He tried again, only managing to say “I made coffee!”  

“I can see that,” Dave laughed, sitting up in bed as Braden brought it over.  “Whoa! Careful!” he said when the younger man suddenly stumbled, nearly dropping one of the mugs onto the bed.  

“Sorry...I tripped over my own feet…” Braden stammered, unsure of what just happened.  He’d been in mid-step when his legs felt awkward and cumbersome.  It only lasted a moment, but he’d nearly fallen.  

“It’s okay,” Dave said with a wry grin, “any excuse to see those bounce.”  

Braden felt another stab of horror when Dave’s hand slapped against his bare cheeks and he felt an unaccustomed ripple of flesh.  Turning to look in the mirror above his dresser, Braden saw that his solid globes had inflated to an impossible size.  They were like rounded shelves jutting out from his lower back and defying gravity in the process.  He immediately thought of Chris and the way his friend’s tight bubble had grown when he saw them shake with the slightest movement.  

“Thanks for making coffee,” Dave yawned, his rough palm sliding from Braden’s cheek to rest on a meaty thigh.  He raised an eyebrow as he gazed at his friend and casually hefted the heavy hose dangling in front of him.  “I can think of something else I’d rather sip on first.”  

Braden let out a long, low moan when the other man took the mug from his hand, setting it aside as he slurped Braden’s limp cock into his mouth.  Though he stayed soft, overwhelming jolts of pleasure shot through him, feeling more intense than they would have had he been hard.  He felt his bubbling new backside shake as he squirmed and whimpered in place while Dave kneaded his inflated balls with his free hand.  His friend’s gray-tinged stubble scratched along the underside of his limp cock as he slowly ran his tongue along it.  “Dave...ohhhh...we...you…” Braden tried desperately to tell his friend about what happened but failed time and again.  

“Alright...alright…” Dave finally said, misinterpreting Braden’s pleading moans, “...we’ll get to the backside.”  He smirked as he pulled Braden down onto the bed face-first and clambered on top of him.   

Braden let out a contented sigh as Dave massaged his shoulders.  The feeling of being straddled, with his friend’s hard, heavy cock and hairy balls on his back, made him feel strangely secure.  He gave a quick giggle when Dave’s rough stubble tickled his sensitive lower back, the laugh turning into a shriek when he felt his cheeks parted and a warm tongue press against his hole.  “OOOOhhhaaahhh!”  He clutched at the sheets and pressed back with his hips while Dave covered every inch.  The stubble that made him giggle now brought tears of joy to his eyes as it lit his body up with pleasure.  He whimpered and begged continuously, experiencing bliss like he’d never felt before.  His limp cock was forgotten under the older man’s oral onslaught.  

“You know how much I love breakfast in bed,” Dave laughed when he paused to catch his breath.  Braden, who was breathing just as hard and heavy, could only bury his face against the mattress.  He felt a sharp jab of pain in his head that dulled the sensation when Dave went back to work.  He tried to ignore it, but a few moments later it was followed by another, and then another.  The disorientation he’d felt since waking up started to grow and Braden fought desperately against it.  He knew what was happening.  He’d taken on changes like Nate and Chris, which meant it was Ryan’s turn.  He screamed internally at the thought of becoming like his now-dimwitted friend, but it seemed inevitable.  Already he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than his overwhelming lust.  “Fuck...fuuuuuuuuuck….” he cried.  

“Okay...okay…” Dave sighed, not knowing the real source of Braden’s desperation as he reluctantly pulled his face from between the cresting mounds.   In one quick move he had Braden on his back with his burly legs in the air while he plunged inside.  

Braden clutched at Dave’s broad back and gasped wordlessly, literally unable to comprehend the pleasure he felt.  His thoughts were like molasses, coming in slow and thick as he tried to process what was happening.  He whimpered pathetically, his meaty pecs shaking from the pounding he was receiving.  The assault on his eager hole coupled with the silky hairs on Dave’s stomach working his soft cock as it wedged between them made it impossible to focus on anything else.  The old Braden was still moving at his normal mental speed, but he was helpless to do anything other than watch.  He could scream at himself all he wanted, but it was as effective as yelling at the TV during a baseball game.  All he could do was gaze up longingly at the older man who was bringing him so much joy.  

Flashes of his nightmare came back when he felt the stream of warm, sticky cum spread onto his stomach and chest.  Unlike his time spent on the altar, this stream wasn’t endless and only left a large puddle that streamed down the sides of his firm stomach while Dave gave a few long, last thrusts before spraying inside him.  Braden beamed from a sense of simple pride, happy that he was responsible for making his friend feel so good.  

“Whooo...shit, babe, you were on fire this morning,” Dave said as he let Braden’s legs drop and fell onto the bed next to him.  

“It was fun!” Braden managed to say after considerable effort.  He leaned into Dave’s furry torso as they sat in bed and drank their now-cold coffee.  Dave clicked the TV on to catch the middle of a football game, but it was more than Braden could follow.  He should have known it by heart, but the announcers could have been speaking a foreign language and the pace was like lightning to his slowed brain.  While he screamed internally, Braden snuggled under Dave’s heavy arm and ran his fingers through the dense hair on his strong chest. 

When the game was over they finally forced themselves out of bed to shower and eat.  While Dave pulled on a pair of briefs and a tight t-shirt that showed off his bulging torso, Braden stayed naked.  He knew Dave liked to look at his young, muscular frame and he wanted to do whatever it took to make him happy.   He winced inside every time he felt his dangling hose swing or his cheeks shake as he followed his aged friend around like a puppy.  Simple, everyday tasks were a chore and it finally occurred to him why Dave had seemed so oddly proud that Braden had made the coffee that morning.  

The old Braden felt himself breaking.  While he was painfully aware, it was clear that Dave had no memory of a life before this new reality.  Braden recalled the hissing voice and knew there would be no blissful ignorance for him.  He was fully aware as he scampered naked around the apartment that his life would be drastically different from now on.  On top of his impossible ass and limp, huge cock, he could barely read the pile of junk mail that sat on the table.  When Dave told him something he forgot it almost immediately, and that was if he understood it in the first place.  The old Braden wanted to cry as he fondled his limp monster mindlessly while watching Dave stand at the counter in his tight briefs cooking.  The formerly straight, arrogant stud was buried completely.  With his ample build he was still a hunk, but he’d realized while trying to keep up with the football game that the only thing he could even remotely focus on was how cute the players were, and he didn’t even understand what the word “arrogant” meant anymore.  All he wanted was to make other guys happy the way he made Dave happy.  

“Alright big guy, we’ve gotta get going.  We’re supposed to meet the guys to catch Chris’s show tonight.”  

“Okay!” Braden said happily, still beaming with pride after having helped clean up the dishes.  He followed Dave into the bedroom and watched his friend pull on a pair of jeans that showed off his thick lower half before opening a dresser drawer.  

“Hhmm...what color do you want tonight?  Green?  Or blue?”  

Braden furrowed his brow as he thought about it.  “Umm...green!” he finally decided, flashing the same dim smile when Dave handed him a lime green thong.  He slid it up his firm thighs and giggled when he felt the string wedge between his bouncing cheeks.  The front bulged to capacity while his backside was left totally exposed.  The only other clothing Dave handed him was a black and pink striped tank-top that accentuated every one of the bulging muscles on his torso as it came to rest on the supple shelf formed by his new rear.  After letting Dave style his chocolate brown locks, the old Braden felt yet another part of himself chip away.  He followed Dave outside with no pants and knew that, like Nate, his enlarged package would always be on display, but unlike Nate, it would never again be hard.  

The drive to the club was a blur of unfamiliar twists and turns.  Braden knew that he should know the area like the back of his hand, but after the first turn he was hopelessly lost.  Dave seemed to know the way, though, and that was good enough for him.  While his friend drove, he stared out the window and played absentmindedly with the bright material of his skimpy underwear.  He kept pushing his thick quads together to force his package forward, liking the way it felt rubbing against the pouch.  Dave would just laugh and shake his head while the old Braden pleaded with himself to stop.  

As soon as they reached the club, Braden knew he still hadn’t hit rock bottom.  Staring at the other young men in the room, he no longer viewed them as his peers or even his competition.  Like Dave, all he wanted was to prostrate himself before them and let them have their way with him.  His old self was mortified at the thought of walking around in the thong, but his new self loved it when guys stared at his massive bulge and his bouncing rear.  

“Hey!  There you are!”  Braden turned just in time to find himself swallowed in a bear hug from Nate.  He loved how his large, tattooed friend’s solid, exposed cock wedged between them as he buried his head into the other man’s large pecs.  

“Don’t I get one?”  Braden felt Nate let go, but before he could move he was wrapped in a set of beefy arms from behind.  He turned in the other man’s grip and found himself matching Ryan’s dull smile as the enlarged man palmed both of his cheeks.  

“Hiii!” Braden said excitedly.  His old self swooned at the sight of his altered friends in person.  The reality of watching Nate walk around with a huge, hard cock hanging out was more jarring than he could have imagined, and Ryan was practically a stranger.  It was bad enough suddenly being shorter than someone he used to tower over, but the bigger man was also wearing clothes that looked at least a size too small, leaving a patch of his hairy stomach exposed and letting everyone see the shrunken lump in his pants.   

“Come on!”  While Nate and Dave went to the bar, Ryan pulled Braden out onto the dancefloor.  The two addled men drew a crowd as they writhed and gyrated.  Ryan quickly lost his too-small shirt, letting his bulging, hairy chest and furry muscle gut hang free for everyone to see.  Braden couldn’t believe how powerful and masculine his simple minded friend looked as a flurry of men ran their hands through his forest of hair.  Not even the outline of Ryan’s small, hard cock could lessen the impact.  

For his part, Braden felt anything but masculine as he worked his cheeks against crotch after crotch, loving how the denim-covered bulges felt against his bare skin.  Across the room he watched Dave hit on a pair of young men while Nate’s long pole was the focus of attention for another group.  

There was an abrupt pause when the music stopped, only to be replaced by a steady, pulsing beat.  All eyes were on the stage as Chris came strutting out in a sparkly silver bikini that bulged impressively, but the barely-covered cheeks were the real stars of the show.  Braden couldn’t believe that he was actually watching his arrogant friend dance across the stage, or the joy he felt when Chris winked down at him.  The athletic young man looked like he had a disco ball strapped to his lower back as the sparkly underwear shimmered and shook while he moved.  The crowd erupted when he pulled the back down to let his plump cheeks shake freely with a smug grin on his face.  

Braden was so captivated that he almost missed Chris motioning for him to join him.  The old Braden tried his hardest to keep himself from clambering up onto the stage but it was a lost cause.  He grinned from ear to ear when the crowd cheered as he gave his hips a shake.  Acting as though he’d done this before, he lifted and flexed his muscular arms to let Chris pull his shirt free and the two fell into rhythm, twerking and clapping their mammoth globes in time.  Braden’s stuffed pouch flopped about wildly until it lost its precarious hold and his long, thick hose slipped free.  The crowd roared as it slapped against his stomach and thighs while his backside worked the room.  

Still strutting around the stage with his friend, the old Braden froze while surveying the room.  Behind the sea of lustful faces, standing in the corner he spotted a small, dapper man smiling at him.  He wanted to jump off the stage and beg the man to fix things, to not leave him and his friends this way.  His frantic desperation was so great that he felt like he could almost make it happen, but as he watched, the man gave a slight nod and walked out the door, a huge, misshapen shadow following in his wake.  

“Never forget,” an unseen voice echoed in his head as the crowd cheered.