The Mummy's Bracelet, pt. 2 (Patreon)

The blonde giant practically burst through the doors, his arms laden with shopping bags.  Clint felt another stab of guilt looking at his friend in nothing but a baggy tank-top, gym shorts and flip flops.  In his haste, Justin clearly hadn’t put any underwear on as Clint could clearly see his friend’s thick member outlined and bouncing against the shorts.  He could only imagine what the people at the store had thought watching the mute muscle man frantically race through the aisles.  

“You were quick.  Good,” Clint said flatly as Justin practically tripped over himself in his haste to kneel at his feet.  He stroked a strong finger along one of his friend’s prominent cheekbones and felt the other man shiver.  “You’re still learning, so you won’t be punished,” he said gently as the finger became his entire hand, roughly clutching Justin’s face.  There was a tingling in his palm that terrified Clint as he thought of what Ankhenaat might do to his friend next.  “You should never be clothed in your queen’s presence.”  

Justin looked pained, not from Clint’s strong grip, but from the thought of disappointing his mistress.  The blonde man’s powerful arms inflated as he grabbed his shirt and literally tore it from his body before doing the same to his shorts, stripping himself bare without standing back up.  

“Much better,” Clint purred, the tingling in his hand subsiding.  His eyes lingered on Justin’s prominent pecs and heavy package, and if his friend noticed his altered face he gave no indication as he stared back up at him with eager, desperate eyes.  “So what did you bring me?”  

Justin scrambled to his feet and ran over to the bags, dumping them out on the table.  Clint didn’t think his heart could sink any further until he saw the piles of silk and lace.  Justin had truly purchased clothing fit for a queen, just not one stuck in a man’s body.  

Clint held up a pair of black lace panties that looked impossibly small in his meaty grip.  He inspected the small garment before dropping it and picking up a silk top with spaghetti straps that was cut off at the midsection.  The real Clint was mortified at the thought of his buff, broad body in the ill fitting clothing, but Ankhenaat seemed pleased.  “You did well,” Clint said, watching Justin swell with pride.  His friend’s eyes were glued to him as he rummaged through the clothing, eventually grabbing the lace underwear he’d picked up earlier.  

The trapped young man fought harder than ever to stop himself from sliding the frilly garment up his wide thighs, but it was useless.  All he could do was feel wave after wave of humiliation as his thick cock and heavy balls spilled out the side.  The fact that Justin was staring hungrily at him the whole time just made it worse.  

“This won’t do,” Clint said, frowning as he looked down at his exposed package.  There was no warning for the man trapped inside, just a slight tingling.  He watched in horror as his thick cock and heavy balls started drawing upwards.  Inch by inch they crept towards the silk underwear, eventually disappearing inside it.  Clint screamed at the monster who’d taken over his body while the bulging underwear gradually settled, barely pushing out around the tiny nub that had once been his meaty package.  

“Thaaaaaat’s better,” he sighed contentedly.  “Such a useless and cumbersome appendage.”  Ankenaat laughed at Clint’s terrified shock.  The trapped young man couldn’t believe how different it felt to walk without the weight of his large pride and joy between his legs as he returned to the bed and grabbed the silk top.  He pulled it on, but instead of draping seductively over lithe shoulders as the priestess imagined, it was plastered across his prominent pecs and wide torso.  He looked at his reflection with disdain and focused again.  

Clint felt a twinge, then a stab of pain from his midsection.  It felt like he was being squeezed in a vice as his waist started to pinch slightly inwards.  Bit by bit, his torso started to taper.  He wasn’t losing muscle exactly, but rearranging it.  His pecs seemed to push out further and his hips appeared to widen as the priestess attempted to reclaim her hourglass figure.  In the end, all she succeeded in doing was leaving Clint with a set of huge, round pecs and an ass that had inflated from the extra muscle being forced downwards on top of it.  The top now hung loose around his almost comically small waist, but it was far from the look she was going for.  

“Need...to feed…” Clint growled frustratedly after burning the energy to alter his body.  The priestess was furious at her limited abilities and took it out on Clint by forcing the hijacked young man to look at himself.  If he’d been in control of his body, the young jock would have vomited at the sight.  His pretty face, with it’s long, flowing hair, now sat on top of a distorted torso.  He had pecs so large and round they bordered on tits, above a waist so small he looked like he would break in half.  All of this now loomed above an ass that had inflated so much it entirely swallowed the lacy underwear.  He was curvy like she wanted, but since he hadn’t lost any muscle he was still firm and solid.  

There was no relief when he turned away from the mirror.  Clint blanched as his hand ran over the front of the underwear and he felt the small, barely present lump underneath.  “You,” he said to Justin.  “Summon others.  Bring your queen more servants.”  Clint felt the priestess’s confusion as he watched Justin frantically send out several text messages.  “What are you doing?  I told you to summon others!”  

Justin gave Clint a pleading look and held out his phone, nodding quickly.  

“What magic is…” Clint felt Ankhenaat rummaging through his memories again before the anger turned to wonder.  “Science,” he said amusedly.  “Not magic, but science.  Our priests would have loved this,” he said, turning the phone over in his hand as though looking at it for the first time.  The moment passed quickly and he tossed the phone onto the floor.  “You’re such an able beast,” he said, gently stroking a hand across Justin’s heaving pecs.  His friend’s lengthy cock was twitching, but he ignored it.  “It’s too soon to feed from you again,” Clint said disappointedly.  “But you can still be of use.  Make this place fit for your queen,” he said, waving his hand around the room dismissively.  

Clint watched Justin’s powerful, naked frame flit about the room, rearranging furniture and piling up cushions and pillows on the floor until the apartment looked like a temple harem.  Clint took up a spot in the center, lounging lazily until there was a knock on the door.  

“Yo!  Dude!  What’s the emergency?”  Clint’s heart sank when he heard his friend Trent yell from the other side.  Trent was on the wrestling team with him, and he knew the other man’s muscled, athletic frame would provide an ample meal.  

“We got here as quick as we could.”  Clint cursed Justin’s thoroughness when he heard Eric’s voice join in.  While Trent was his teammate, Eric was on the baseball team with Justin, and his friend had chosen well.  Between Eric’s tall, ripped frame and Trent’s wide, muscled body, he could already feel the vitality oozing from the two jocks through the closed door.  He hated how it stirred the same hunger in him as the priestess, and desperately wished he could deny the longing he felt.  

Justin hurried to the door, his bare backside bouncing as he scampered across the room.  His friend’s broad frame blocked his view, but he heard a pair of shocked laughs come from the open door as the new arrivals made their way in.  

“Uh...what the fuck is going on…” Trent laughed awkwardly.  Clint could see the familiar sight of his friend’s short, chestnut hair and lantern jaw peeking around Justin’s naked body.  He had on a baggy muscle shirt that showed off his buff torso, with its powerful arms, sculpted pecs and washboard stomach.  Unlike Clint had been, Trent was naturally smooth, with only a smattering of hair across his tanned skin.  His baggy basketball shorts concealed his powerful thighs but still showed off his large, round rear and rocky calves. 

Behind him, Eric’s scruffy, sandy haired face turned red with embarrassment as he looked around the room.  He was dressed similarly to Trent in a tight tank top that showed off his lean, sculpted build and a pair of small, tight shorts that left his long legs exposed.  Like Justin, Eric was more proportionally built, needing both power and speed to cover a large baseball field. “Is this a joke,” he asked, the blonde stubble on his cheeks standing out against his crimson skin.  

“Come in,” Clint said casually as Justin shut the door behind them.  The man trapped in his own body withered as he watched his teammate realize who he was looking at.  

Trent’s jaw dropped at the strangely clad muscle man with the androgynous face.  “Cl...Clint?  Is that you?”  

“No really, guys, what the fuck?”  Eric turned back towards the door but Justin was immobile.  “Would you tell us what’s going on?”  Justin opened his mouth and silently mouthed a few words before stopping and pointing towards Clint.  

“Please, there’s no need to get upset,” Clint purred.  He could feel the power radiating out and washing over the other two men as they stared at him in confusion.  The hooks were already set.  

“Jesus, Clint, what’d you...I mean...how...you’re…” Trent stammered.  

“Don’t you like what you see?”  Clint gestured down at himself and he knew Ankhenaat was simply toying with all of them.  She relished the humiliation he felt as his friends stared at his nearly empty panties.  

“What happened to your face?  And where’d your fuckin’ dick go,” Eric blurted as Justin forced him into the room.  

“See for yourself,” Clint shrugged, smirking.  The man inside could see the same swirling energies surrounding his two friends that he’d seen around Justin, and he longed for it just as much as the priestess.  He hated himself for it, but he didn’t think he’d stop her even if he could.  He watched Trent and Eric’s eyes glaze over as they stood staring at him.  “Come….join us,” he said as Justin came around and draped his naked, ripped body across another pile of nearby cushions, his solid cock standing proudly before him. 

“I...I don’t know if I…” Trent stammered, looking over at Eric.  “Do you want to…?”  The taller man looked back and forth between his friends before shrugging and pulling off his tank-top.  Seeing the other man begin to strip, Trent followed suit and soon the two men stood naked and twitching in front of their friends.  

“This is fuckin’ weird,” Eric laughed as they walked towards the cushions.  His long, thick cock was already half hard between his toned, solid thighs.  

Next to him, Trent said nothing but swallowed hard.  Despite his larger bulk, the short, thin rod twitching to life between his trunk-like legs was smaller than Eric’s dangling appendage.  It didn’t matter to Clint, who eyed them both hungrily.  “What...what’re we doing…” Trent finally sputtered.  

“Worshipping your queen,” Clint said as he reached out and stroked a hand along Trent’s wide, stubbled jaw.  Having practiced together, Clint already knew what it felt like to be underneath his friend’s broad, powerful body, but he’d never quite looked forward to it like this.  He laid back as Trent knelt and let the other man slowly slide the lace underwear down his smooth, supple thighs.  Ankhenaat cackled in Clint’s mind as the young man burned with humiliation when his tiny nub was fully exposed in front of his friends.  “It’s...so small…” Trent said, his own rigid cock throbbing at the sight.  

“This isn’t,” Clint laughed, rolling over and exposing his huge new rear.  He smiled when he felt Trent’s rough palms drop to it immediately.  “And that’s so much better, isn’t it?”  He let Trent paw at his pillowy globes for a moment before sitting up on his knees and looking over at Eric.  “Such a strapping young man…” Clint sighed seductively.  “Come and show me your devotion,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Eric by his long, solid cock to pull him down.  

The taller man fell to his knees and gasped when Clint lunged forward, mashing their mouths together.  He instinctively wrapped his long arms around the other man but found Trent’s meaty frame pressed close to Clint from behind.  It didn’t matter.  He let his hands probe his friend’s beefy frame instead while Clint’s tongue explored the inside of his mouth.  For being on the wrestling team with Trent, Clint’s hands felt surprisingly soft as they stroked through the sparse hair on his impressive chest.  He shivered when he felt a pair of rough palms begin kneading his skin and realized that Trent’s probing digits were exploring him like he explored his friend. 

“YYeeeesssss,” Clint hissed as the three of them writhed together.  He rolled his head back to let Eric work his mouth along his neck while Trent’s tongue flitted against a broad shoulder.  The power was building and he could start to seize it.  There was a slight tingling at his throat, and fresh horror when he spoke again.  “This is so much better,” Clint said in a voice that was high and soft instead of his deep, bassy rumble.  The trapped jock didn’t have time to dwell on this new layer of humiliation before he felt himself working his plump cheeks back to swallow Trent’s mighty little cock.  His friend’s small organ felt entirely different than Justin’s massive tool, but the priestess was already working to fix that.  “Hmmm...we can do better,” Clint laughed, looking over his shoulder and watching Trent’s eyes go wide.  The small cock inside him started to feel large, then huge, then massive.  “Muuuuuch better,” Clint moaned in his soft new voice, digging his hands into Eric’s shoulders as Trent started pumping away with his inflated club.  

The tall man pressed against his front groaned when Clint started writhing and bucking against his torso.  His own long, solid cock was wedged between them, and he worked it back and forth along Clint’s soft, smooth stomach.  The sensation of Trent’s rough hands on his back and Clint’s soft but firm body squirming against his front was too much.  He let out a quiet gasp as he came, his cock spraying up against Clint’s chin.  

Ankhenaat’s fury was immediate.  “You fool!” Clint bellowed, his eyes blazing as they bored into Eric’s stunned gaze.  “You’ve wasted it!  Now I’ll need to find another!”  Clint reached up and grabbed the sides of Eric’s head as the priestess’s fury flowed out of him.  “If you can’t serve me, you’ll serve them,” he spat.  As soon as Clint spoke, Eric’s cock went limp immediately, draping long and soft over one of his thighs.  Only Clint knew what the priestess meant by “serving them” and he felt a wave of pity for his friend as Eric’s brain was rewired.  He could practically feel the new impulses building in the athletic hunk who was being reborn as a limp dicked power bottom.  As she’d taunted Clint, if a man couldn’t serve Ankhenaat, he served her stable of men, keeping them fulfilled and aroused until she had her way with them.  Clint knew Eric’s days as a ladies man were over.  

Behind, Trent was still pumping away, oblivious to what just happened.  He was too busy whimpering and moaning from the overwhelming new sensations his altered cock brought him to notice.  It hadn’t just grown larger but more sensitive as well, making Trent feel as if he’d discovered a sixth sense.  

All Clint cared about were the swirling energies encompassing them both.  They were nearing the point where Ankhenaat could pluck him like a fruit, and while the trapped young man longed for that moment, he dreaded it in equal measure.  More power meant more changes, to himself and others.  Clint had now watched her alter three people without so much as a second thought and he knew her claims were more than just boasts.  If she gained enough strength she truly would launch a new reign of terror.  

It was too late.  He felt Trent’s invading club spasm between his bouncing cheeks and the energy start to pour into him.  The priestess’s joy was unbridled as she fed, but before the transfer could finish there was a loud noise as the door slammed open.  The last thing Clint saw was Professor Howard running towards them before the world went black.  

************

“Oh, so you like that,” Clint laughed in his pixie voice, popping his widened hips and causing his large cheeks to bounce wildly in his tiny shorts.  “Do you want me to take these off?”  

On the couch in front of him, Justin nodded excitedly, his own shorts tented by his long, rigid cock.  The sculpted blonde ran a hand over his bare chest as he silently watched Clint slowly work the small shorts down.  

“I’m wearing your favorites,” Clint said as he exposed the crimson lace panties that disappeared in the deep valley of his rear.  He turned back to face his friend and continued gyrating his hips, working the small lump between his supple thighs inches from Justin’s face.  “Ah ah,” he chided, slapping Justin’s hand away as the other man reached up to pull the underwear down.  “You first.”  Clint leaned over and pulled Justin’s shorts down, letting his friend’s large cock spring free.  The naked jock on the couch gasped silently as Clint stroked it between his soft fingers before bending down and swallowing it with his plump lips.  

It had been a few months since their run in with the disembodied spirit and things were gradually settling in to a new normal.  Professor Howard had tracked them down and driven out Ankhenaat just in time.  Clint didn’t remember any of that, but it must have been an impressive battle.  When he came to, the apartment was in tatters and the Professor was battered and bloody.  

While he’d arrived in time to prevent any further damage, there was nothing he could do about what had been done.  Clint learned that the priestess likely had her hooks in him from the start.  Professor Howard blamed himself for what happened, saying he never should have brought the bracelet out.  The breathless old man said he didn’t think she still had any sway or he never would have let it around other people.  That strange impulse he had to take it was apparently Ankhenaat’s doing, and while that made him feel slightly better, it did nothing to help him or his affected friends.  There was nothing that could be done for any of them.  Only Clint and Professor Howard remembered what happened.  To the rest, all they had was a hazy memory of arriving to the apartment.  

Doctors blamed what happened to Justin on a stroke.  In the absence of any other evidence they had no way of explaining the changes in his behavior or the loss of his voice.  There weren’t any physical injuries, his friend just couldn’t speak.  The hulking viking also had trouble staying focused on anything that wasn’t Clint for extended periods.  Even after the priestess had been driven out, he hung on Clint’s every word as though he still worshipped him.  

The same went for Trent and Eric.  On top of their other new behaviors, they both acted as though they were desperately in love with him.  Eric’s was the most jarring.  The handsome jock had gone from star baseball player to renowned power bottom.  It didn’t take long for word to spread.  Eric was a walking fantasy for most guys, the handsome, “straight” athlete who just so happened to be an eager fuck toy.  When they saw how hung he was, and how useless his permanently soft cock hung, it only made things better.  Not only were they topping the sculpted jock of their dreams, his impressive package was pointless.  Eric didn’t seem to mind.  If anything, he embraced his new activities with the same dedication he’d applied on the field.  He stayed on the team, but he spent a lot of extra time in the locker room after the games.  

The same couldn’t be said for Trent and his enlarged package.  When he’d pulled free from Clint, the thin, five inch rod that went in came out as a thick, eleven inch club.  Hard or soft it’s overall size didn’t change much, leaving an obscene bulge in his singlet and an unwieldy lump that made wrestling difficult.  Add to that a heightened sensitivity that made him hard at the slightest touch, and his days on the team were over.  That was fine with him, since it gave him more time to spend with Clint.  

Clint did his best to make it up to all of them.  They didn’t know he had anything to do with what happened, but it still tore him up inside.  Like his friends, he was left trapped in his altered, curvy body.  He still had the soft, smooth skin, huge muscle tits, tiny waist, non-existent cock, and massive ass that the priestess had given him.  On top of all that his face was still prettily androgynous with it’s flowing chocolate locks and his voice still high and soft.  He was a walking contradiction, both soft and hard, masculine and feminine.  

Ankhenaat’s fingerprints went deeper than the physical for Clint.  His personality still bore her touch as he found that he carried himself differently, adding a swish to his walk and an arch to his back.  As much as he hated it, he found himself drawn to soft, womanly clothing and a desire to show off his twisted body.  There still seemed to be an affect on others as well, as men, both straight and gay, would throw themselves at him.  This suited Clint, as he had a lingering, almost insatiable hunger for other men.  

He focused most of his attention on Justin.  He felt the worst for his roommate and did everything he could to keep the tall stud happy.  No matter how embarrassed he was, he’d parade around in whatever Justin liked to see him in, biting down on his humiliation and going through strip tease after strip tease.  Their years of friendship let them quickly develop their own system of wordless communication, but Clint felt awful every time he watched the other man sitting silently amongst a group of their chattering friends.  

“Ready for the rest,” Clint asked when Justin guided his bobbing mouth free of his lap.

The flushed, panting man nodded quickly and Clint stood, letting Justin pull his underwear free.  The silent hunk was the only person he didn’t feel a wave of humiliation around at the sight of his micro dick.  The look of pure lust and affection in his friend’s eyes made that impossible.  Clint let Justin pull him forward and swallow the entirety of his shrunken package, moaning loudly.  His small equipment wasn’t good for much, but it still felt good.  

“Alright...alright…” Clint said, reluctantly pulling away as Justin clutched his mountainous rear.  He stepped up onto the couch and grabbed the back, straddling his friend.  Locking eyes, he lowered himself onto the waiting pole, letting out a velvety moan of pleasure to make up for Justin’s voiceless gaping.  Words weren’t necessary at this point anyway.  He leaned forward and locked lips with his friend, probing Justin’s mouth the way the other man was probing his lower half.  It may not have been what either of them wanted, but they were determined to make the best of it.  

Especially Clint, who tried to ignore the sinister laughter echoing through his brain.