Pikesburg PD (full text) (Patreon)

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Chapter 1

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Greg hated the night shift in this part of town.  The hours spent driving down empty street after empty street felt like an eternity, lost in a labyrinth of streetlights and darkened buildings.  Even during the day it was an awful neighborhood, filled with abandoned factories and the ghosts of shuttered industry.  At one time it had been a booming seat of manufacturing and steady, blue collar labor, but the only industry that remained was the never ending hustle.  Drug deals, stolen cars, bootlegged goods, sex work; you name it, someone around here was selling it.  At least while the sun was up.  Most neighborhoods like this tended to get worse at night, but in South Pikesburg even the vermin stayed in after dark.  There weren’t bars or clubs or tourists here.  After midnight it was a ghost town.  

Most people wouldn’t complain about an easy shift, but Greg hadn’t joined the force to drive a car around deserted streets all night.  Unlike a lot of the other guys he worked with who were only in it for the pension, he actually believed in helping people.  At twenty six he was still fresh in his law enforcement career and the older, jaded guys all told him it was just his youth talking.  Give it enough time, they said, and he’d come to see things the same as them.  Their job wasn’t to help the good people, only to try and stop a few of the bad ones.  

Greg refused to believe it.  In just his few short years as a cop he’d already seen things he never would have imagined, cruelty laid bare and raw in the faces of countless victims.  Everything from homicides, suicides and drug overdoses, to petty thievery and simple assault - no matter how major or minor the crime, the thing they all had in common was man’s disregard for his fellow man.  Greg was well aware that most people would just as soon step over a bleeding victim as opposed to stopping to help, but he was determined not to lose his way.  They might not be able to help everyone, but they could help some and that would have to be enough.  

They called him naive, but he thought of it more as optimism.  He wasn’t unaware of how the world worked, he just chose not to let it get him down.  It was his nature.  Growing up he’d been a literal boy scout, the poster child for helping an old lady cross the street and eating his vegetables.  Teachers and coaches loved him for his helpfulness, and his happy-go-lucky personality coupled with his good looks and natural athleticism made him a hit with his fellow students.  It was easy for him to be so cheerful.  

He’d always stood out from the rest, and even as an adult his pale skin and auburn hair drew immediate attention whenever he walked in a room, attention that was then kept by the fit, athletic frame filling out his uniform.  Broad shoulders, big arms, and a tiny waist marked his torso, while a firm, perky bubble and sturdy legs filled out his lower half.  A dusting of auburn hair mingled with the freckles on his arms and legs, growing thicker across his toned pecs and running down his tight abs in a furry line.  

The weathered, older guys at the station constantly gave Greg a hard time for his boyish features.  His tiny nose, pouty lips, and smooth cheeks left him looking a very young twenty six, but he just grinned and took it.  It helped that he knew most of the ribbing stemmed from jealousy since his female coworkers certainly didn’t mind his appearance.  The well-built ginger never had a hard time when it came to getting laid, it just wasn’t something he often sought out.  He thought of himself as old fashioned, wanting to get to know a girl before jumping right into bed.  And despite his impressive physique, Greg was more than a little modest.  He’d played enough sports to know the rules of the locker room, but strutting around naked, even when it was just the guys, wasn’t something he enjoyed.  

No one had been surprised when they’d heard he was going to the academy, and no one was surprised that he was doing so well on the job.  Working as a cop combined his love for helping people, staying active and problem solving.  By all accounts he was a bright young man doing his best to make the world a better place.  

Sometimes, though, the world has plans of its own.  

“What the hell…” Greg slowed his cruiser as he passed the alley.  He thought he’d seen a small figure dart around the corner and into the darkness.  The flickering street lights made it hard to tell, but they’d looked child-sized.  Given the late hour and lack of anyone else on the street, that didn’t bode well.  He shined the car’s spotlight just in time to see the small figure rush deeper in.  “Shit…” he muttered, pulling the car to a stop and climbing out.  

He gave a quick look up and down the street to check for anyone who might be following, but it was deserted like all the rest.  His footfalls echoed off the crumbling warehouses as he approached the darkened alley, the oppressive silence making him nervous.  He thought back to his boy scout days camping in the woods, and how the forest would go silent whenever a predator was near.  It suddenly occurred to him just how little he actually knew about the neighborhood he patrolled.  He’d been given the assignment because he was the lowest ranking and that’s just how things worked in their precinct, but because nothing ever happened he’d never bothered to really get to know the place.  

Now, standing in front of a shrouded, yawning alley, he thought about all the things that could be scary enough to keep otherwise scary people indoors when it got dark.  

“Hey, it’s okay,” he called down the alley, trying to find the small figure with his flashlight.  “You’re not in any trouble...do you need help?  Are your parents around here somewhere?”  

The light finally landed on a small, shaking bundle of ragged clothes huddled in a corner at the far end.  He approached slowly, something about the bundle’s shape striking him as odd now that it wasn’t running.  There was a bare leg sticking out, but it was too developed to belong to a child.  The muscles were thick and striated, and as he drew closer, Greg saw that what initially looked like ragged clothes was actually a small blanket, and what he’d initially assumed was a child was actually a tiny, naked man.  

The man’s size and appearance caught Greg off guard.  He wasn’t disproportionate like a dwarf or underdeveloped like other little people, but had a perfectly proportional, surprisingly chiseled body.  He looked to be in his early twenties and had bowling ball shoulders, massive arms, tank-tread abs, and wide, meaty thighs with a comparatively hefty package dangling between them.  It was the physique of a professional bodybuilder, or at least it would have been had he been more than three feet tall.  Despite his lack of height he was still incredibly built, with a lantern-jawed, razor-cheeked face that was strikingly handsome.  Even Greg had to admit that the tiny young man was beautiful.  Coupled with his tanned skin, plump, full lips and thick, black hair there was no other word for it.  He was a model in miniature.  

And he looked terrified.  His bright blue eyes were wide with fear and his sculpted chest heaved with each frantic breath.  The small, bare feet showed signs of wear, making Greg wonder just how long the man had been running.  

“Sir, are you okay?”  Greg spoke softly as he knelt and gently reached out to place a hand on the small man’s back.  “How about I get you somewhere safe and we can talk?” 

The physical contact and the sight of a police uniform seemed to snap the other man out of his delirium.  He blinked rapidly at Greg, relief flashing briefly across his face before he looked down at himself and groaned.   “It...it did this...to me…” he stammered in a squeaky voice.  

“Who?”  Greg looked the other man over as much as he could without being too intrusive, not finding any signs of obvious trauma.  “What did they do to you?”  

“No!  Not they!  Some...thing!  It did this!  It’s still out here!”  

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Chapter 2

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“Who?  Who’s out here?”  Greg tried his best to keep the small man calm, but the tiny bodybuilder was becoming more agitated with each passing second.  “Why don’t you let me get you somewhere safe and you can…”

“Safe?  Nowhere is safe!  Don’t you get it?  You think I always looked like this?  I thought I WAS safe but it's got people working for it all over!”  The small man squirmed farther out of Greg’s grip and produced a tiny piece of metal from the blanket.  “Here...take this.  Maybe it’ll help you more than it helped me.”  

The man proved surprisingly strong for his size as he shoved the metal into Greg’s hand and slipped around the surprised officer.  The taller redhead reached for the tiny stranger as he scampered by, but all he managed to grab was the blanket which came away in his hand.  He was on his feet and running after the now-naked man, but as soon as he turned the corner there was no sign of him.  Greg knew the stranger couldn’t have made it that far on his short legs, yet the barren street was as empty as ever.  There wasn’t anywhere that he could have hidden, even with his diminutive stature, but Greg still made a slow sweep of the street.  He investigated each alley and stoop he passed, coming up empty every time.  After an hour of fruitless searching he finally gave up, opting to examine the object he’d been given instead.  

It turned out to be a small piece of jewelry, a thin, tarnished medallion that was covered in strange, asymmetrical symbols.  He’d never seen anything like it. The markings resembled mold or lichen growth more than any kind of alphabet, and what seemed crude and random at first turned out to be a series of incredibly intricate, detailed carvings. It felt heavy with age, Greg’s gut telling him he held something far older than it appeared.  The implied age made the carvings even more impressive, and the young officer tried to wrap his head around the skill it would have taken to pound that much minute detail into such a small piece. 

“Well, shit,” he finally sighed, pocketing the medallion. His instincts were telling him there was more to this, that he was missing something important, but so far he hadn’t seen any signs of someone, or something, pursuing the small stranger. Just the same empty streets as always. He made one final lap around the block before heading back to the station. 

“How’d it go in the South side?”  Greg pulled in just as Johnny, one of the more seasoned guys on the force, was climbing out of his cruiser. The other man man was a pug-faced, middle aged ball of muscle, with a shaved scalp and biceps the size of Greg’s head. Even to the other guys on the force he looked intimidating. 

“Weird night,” Greg said, wincing as Johnny clapped him roughly on the back. 

“Weird how?” Johnny waved to the rest of the night shift on their way in, only half listening. 

“Just...weird. I ran into this naked guy bolting down the street…”

Johnny interrupted with a snorting laugh. “On the South side? Those queers usually hang out on my beat in the West end.  He high?”

“That’s just it. He wasn’t just naked, he was...small. Like, tiny,” Greg hovered his hand at his waist to indicate the man’s height. “But jacked. Bodybuilder jacked. It was so weird. He looked like a full sized person that had been shrunk down. Never seen anything like him.”

By now the younger man had Johnny’s full attention. “So, what? He was just running naked down the street?  Someone after him?”

“He said something was, but I couldn’t find anything. I tried to bring him in but he slipped away...spry little dude for his size. By the time I got to the end of the alley he was gone. Like, GONE. I couldn’t find a trace of him.”

Johnny shook his head and gave Greg a disappointed look as they weaved between desks and rounded the corner to the back of the station. “See? That’s what happens when you’re too nice. Should’a cuffed him right off the bat and thrown his ass in the car. What do I always tell you?  You can talk once you’ve got ‘em locked down. Now the freaky little pervert is still out there doing fuck knows what.”

Greg sighed and followed Johnny back into the locker room. “No, it wasn’t like that. The guy seemed genuinely terrified…”

“Okay,” Johnny said, undoing his shirt and exposing the weathered skin of his burly, barrel torso, “so now he’s out there unprotected when he should be in here where we can keep him safe.”  

“I’m telling you, man, it wasn’t that simple,” Greg protested as he followed suit, baring a hairy, muscular chest that seemed small compared to the older man’s meaty shelf. Despite their similar height, Johnny’s broad frame looked big enough to fit the younger man comfortably inside him. “He was babbling about someTHING, not someONE, coming after him.  He…” Greg started to mention the medallion but pulled back at the last second. 

“Kid, come on now, you know better than that.”  Johnny casually shucked his pants and boxers, revealing his tree trunk thighs and thick, heavy package before grabbing a towel from his locker. “It’s a weird part of town, sure, but don’t lose your head.”

Even as Johnny said it, Greg’s vision blurred.  There was a moment where the world went fuzzy, and when it settled back into place Greg found himself looking at a miniature version of his fellow officer.  Like with the man in the alley, Johnny’s beefy frame bore the same proportions it always did, his head just came to Greg’s waist.  The young ginger’s eyes went wide as he stared down at the shrunken stud.  

“Uh, hey, kid, I’m up here.”  

Greg blinked and shook his head, his face going crimson when he realized he wasn’t looking down at Johnny’s diminutive frame, but at his full-sized partner’s exposed equipment.  “Shit...sorry, man...I totally spaced out for a second there.”  

Johnny cocked his head as much as his thick, muscled neck would allow and gave the younger man a punch in the shoulder.  “Go home and get some sleep.  Forget about weirdos and monsters...I’ve seen enough guys lose their grip over the years.  You’ve got too much potential for that.”  

Greg did as he was told.  After the awkward encounter with Johnny he decided against showering at work and instead headed straight for his apartment.  The going home part was easy, the sleep part not so much.  After a quick shower he pulled on a clean pair of briefs and stretched out on his bed, unable to shake the night’s events from his head.  He turned the medallion over and over in his hands, inspecting it for any detail he might have missed the first time around.  The whole time, the image of the small muscle man and the momentary vision of his shrunken partner burned in his memory.  

He was so focused on studying the medallion that he didn’t even notice his cock aching for attention until it was painfully tenting his briefs.  

“The fuck…” he muttered, absently running a hand through the fiery hair on his tight, pale abs to squeeze the straining grey bulge.  When it became clear his determined rod had no intention of softening on its own he tugged his briefs down and fished the impressive organ free.  Still holding the medallion in one hand he started stroking slowly with the other, taking breaks to knead the hairy balls underneath.  

Despite his best efforts, the images of the altered men remained.  Greg struggled valiantly to remember the stacked blonde he’d hooked up with last, but it was becoming increasingly clear that he literally couldn’t think about anything else.  His confusion grew in time with his lust as he pumped away, his odd fantasy evolving with each stroke.  He no longer thought about what the men merely looked like, but instead imagined them with their mouths wrapped around his throbbing cock.  Their height was at the perfect level for it and he actually whimpered aloud picturing the overhead view of Johnny’s shrunken, bowling ball shoulders flexing while his round, bald head bobbed back and forth.  He flexed his perky cheeks against the mattress, imagining his older friend’s tiny hands were digging into them.  

The image shifted and suddenly the stranger from the alley was behind Johnny, plowing into the older man’s ample rear with a rod that would have been massive at full size while the small slab of flesh continued to suck away on Greg’s stubborn cock.  The whimpering ginger’s athletic body was covered with sweat as he writhed on his bed, the pressure building and building with no relief in sight.  There was another shift and now Johnny’s thick, shrunken thighs straddled his waist.  He watched the older man’s full face twist with agonising bliss while he rocked his little muscle gut back and forth, working himself deeper and deeper on the young man’s iron rod.  

Greg couldn’t believe how vivid it all was.  He could practically feel Johnny’s weight pressing down on his trim waist while the other man’s tight hole clutched his pulsing cock.  His own hands felt huge as they clutched at Johnny’s meaty little cheeks, while at the same time he could feel the other man’s small fingers digging into his hairy pecs.  The whole time, Johnny’s fat, three inch member ground against his furry abs, leaving an oozing trail.  

It was the thought of his older partner at full size, but with his shrunken endowment, that finally pushed Greg over the edge.  He had a flash of Johnny from the locker room earlier, only now there was a tiny nub between the burly thighs instead of the wide soda can he normally sported.  

“GGGGUUUUUHHHHNNNN!”  Greg spasmed and arched up off the bed, cumming so hard he practically covered his ceiling.  He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t move.  His every muscle locked in place while his cock erupted in volcanic fashion.  “Wha...what the fuck was that…” he panted as the explosions subsided, his sticky, sculpted chest heaving.  “Holy shit that was...wait…did I...fall asleep,” he asked aloud as he stared in a breathless daze at the alarm clock next to his bed.  Six hours had passed.  Greg told himself he’d just fallen asleep before finishing, which would at least explain the strange, vivid dreams.  

He told himself that, but looking down at the medallion still clutched in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.  

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Chapter 3

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“You’re here early.”  Greg jumped at the unexpected hand on his shoulder and looked up from the monitor to see Tank grinning down at him.  The tall young officer’s name was technically Hank, but with his almost exaggeratedly square jaw and wide, burly body it was easy to see where his nickname came from.  “Also, and don’t take this the wrong way, you look like shit, man.”  

“Love you too,” Greg laughed, pulling away from Tank’s massive paw.  

The big man leaned down to look over Greg’s shoulder at the myriad faces on the screen, dwarfing the athletic ginger in the process.  “What’re you working on?  Missing person?”    

“Something like that,” Greg sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his tired eyes.  After his bizarre dreams he felt like he hadn’t slept at all, nor had he been able to get the images of the altered Johnny and the tiny stud from the alley out of his head.  He’d come in early to search the missing persons file on a whim, not really expecting to find anything.  “It was a weird shift last night.”  

“Fuckin’ Southside,” Tank spat, shaking his head.  He and Greg had been friends since meeting at the academy, and though they were both rookies who’d graduated together, Tank had been the lucky one when they were handing out assignments.  “Not gonna lie...glad you got that lovely patch of real estate.”  

“It’s weirdly not too bad,” Greg said.  “The place is a ghost town after midnight.  Seriously, last night was the first time anything’s happened.”  He relayed the story to Tank, watching the big man lean back against a desk and fold a set of massive arms across his solid chest.  As with Johnny, he left out the medallion currently hanging on a chain beneath his shirt.  Every time he thought to bring it up, a small voice in his head told him it was better to keep quiet.  

“Damn...that IS fuckin’ weird,” Tank laughed, running a rough hand through his short, chestnut hair.  “He didn’t give you a name or anything to go off of?”  

Greg sighed and shook his head.  “Nope.  Little dude bolted before I could get anything out of him.  He shouldn’t have caught me off guard like that but he threw me, ya know?  Last thing I was expecting to find.”  

“I bet!” Tank laughed, his deep, booming voice echoing off the nearby wall.  He nodded towards the screen.  “You think someone reported him missing?”  

“I don’t know WHAT to think right now.  Or if there’s anything there at all.  He seemed legit scared of something....that much seemed real.  Probably just some stoned little weirdo, but…” he shrugged.  “It’s buggin’ me.”  

“Then there’ a reason,” Tank said, slapping Greg on his shoulder.  “I’ll keep an eye out and do some asking around...see if anyone matches that description.  Dude like that’s gotta stand out, right?  Tomorrow, though,” Tank grinned.  “I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here for the day.”      

“Appreciate it,” Greg said, waving Tank off.  He watched his friend leave, the burly man’s broad upper back stretching the uniform near to bursting.  Tank’s torso didn’t taper like his but traveled down in a solid rectangle to a pair of plump, shifting cheeks and thick, meaty thighs.  He’d seen his friend in the locker room enough to know firsthand the kind of beefy, muscled body that dwelt under all the dark polyester.  

“The fuck…” Greg muttered to himself, blushing as he realized he’d been recalling in explicit detail every inch of Tank’s bare, sturdy frame.  He could see it just as clearly as he saw the man’s uniform, practically able to trace the sparse patches of hair on Tank’s slab of a chest that trailed down his solid gut to pool around the other man’s heavy package with it’s short, fat cock and low hanging balls.  

He tried to shake the unwanted thoughts from his head, but it was as if his brain was on autopilot.  He saw the naked Tank lumbering all the way back to the locker room as if he was walking right behind him.  It was so vivid Greg had to clutch the desk to convince himself he hadn’t actually gotten up to follow his friend into the showers.  He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate.  Nothing on his body would.  His muscles were locked in place, trapping him where he sat.  All he could do was watch, reduced to nothing but a passenger in his own body.  

As the scene continued to play out in his head, Greg was aware of a growing warmth coming from the medallion.  It was becoming so hot he was afraid it would start to burn, but there was never any pain, just a constant, radiating heat that seemed to pull heavily on the chain.  

He watched Tank lather up his goliath frame, his attention increasingly focused on the thick, stout cock poking out from between the man’s mammoth thighs.  It looked so small compared to the rest of his friend’s powerful build.  Too small.  It wasn’t right, a voice hissed in his head.  Such a big man needed a big tool to work with, something long and thick and impossible to hide.  

No sooner than he had the intruding thought, it started to become reality.  Greg saw Tank’s short, wide rod twitch and spasm like he was getting hard, but instead of expanding a few meager inches, the big man’s cock more than doubled in size.  It looked like someone inflating a balloon animal, shooting out from between Tank’s legs as a long, girthy log.  His friend had a dazed, glassy look in his eyes and Greg couldn’t tell if Tank knew what was happening or not.  

“Guh!”  The spell holding him in place broke as soon as the growth started.  Greg’s focus snapped back into his body and he flung himself violently away from the desk.  He knew people had turned to stare but he didn’t stop to make any excuses before darting back to the locker room.  

The whole way he told himself it wasn’t real.  It couldn’t be possible.  He tried to convince himself he just hadn’t gotten enough sleep.  People didn’t just change like that, he thought.  He made a straight line for the showers, his heart racing as he arrived in time to see the big man crank the water off.  

“Yo, Tank,” Greg called out tentatively from the edge of the showers, grateful that no one else was around at the moment.  From behind, the burly young man looked the same, but even before he’d fully turned around Greg’s stomach dropped.  As soon as Tank moved a leg, Greg could see the thick, dangling hose, and he soon found himself face to face with the enlarged beast.  The formerly stout cock had stretched out to nearly a foot long and was so thick Greg didn’t think he’d be able to wrap a hand around it.  He wondered why that specific unit of measurement occurred to him as he gawked at the pair of hairy, low-hanging baseballs underneath, his own cock throbbing confusingly.  

Tank had always been an imposing presence, but his new equipment made the beefy stud radiate strength and masculinity to an overwhelming degree.  With his lantern jaw, bulky muscle and massive cock the young man was bordering on a caricature.  As Greg stared, the beast between his friend’s legs stirred in response.  He watched it jerk and plump until it looked like a flexing forearm with a closed fist had been attached to Tank’s waist.  

The big man still had a faraway look in his eyes as Greg stepped close.  “Ta...Tank?”  

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Chapter 4

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“Greg?”  Tank blinked dazedly, his meaty chest heaving from the sharp gasp when he looked down.  Instead of his smallish package, he saw an impossibly long, plump cock and massive balls sprouting from the base of his muscled stomach.  “Fuck!” He yelped and grabbed at it, his stomach dropping when he could barely close one of his wide hands around it.  

“Shit!  Are you...okay,” Greg stammered, still caught off guard by the sight of his friend’s enlarged equipment.  Even with as many hours as he’d spent in locker rooms over the years, he’d never seen one so large.  

“No!  What the fuck just happened!?”  

“Everything alright over there?”  Greg and Tank turned to see Mark, a fellow officer, stick his head around the corner.  The balding, heavyset man clearly saw Tank’s exposed, freakish endowment but didn’t seem bothered by it in the least.  

Tank spread his powerful arms and thrust his hips in the older man’s direction, too stunned to be embarrassed.  “My fuckin’ dick is huge!”  

Mark just shook his head and rolled his eyes.  “Ha. Ha.  Very funny,” he said flatly.  “Yeah, we all know, big guy.”  

“The fuck you guys goin’ on about,” Terrell, a shirtless, dark skinned giant the same size as Tank, came up from behind Mark and joined in the staring.  

“Tank’s pretending to be freaked out by that donkey dick of his,” Mark sighed.  

“Shit, man, I would be too,” Terrell laughed, grabbing the stuffed bulge of his boxer briefs.  “There’s big, and then there’s THAT.  Don’t worry...we’re not judgin’,” he said with a shrug of his burly shoulders.  “We’ve all seen it enough by now.”  

“What?  That doesn’t make any…” 

“Ignore him,” Greg laughed, interrupting the bigger man and waving the other two off.  He put a hand on his friend’s arm and pulled him towards the lockers.  “Not here,” he whispered.  “Let’s get the fuck outta here and then figure this out.”  

“But...what just...the fuck am I even supposed to do with this thing?”  Tank winced with each step, his dangling club swaying and bouncing heavily.  Like Terrell and Mark, the other men who could see him didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised at his new third leg.  “The fuck is this?  Am I at the wrong locker?”  

“What do you mean?” Greg didn’t like the surprised look on Tank’s face as the burly man rummaged through his locker.  

“I should’ve had a pair of jeans in here, not sweats.  And where the fuck is my underwear?”  Tank frantically emptied out his locker while Greg did his best to cover.  He knew in his gut that this all had something to do with the strange events of the last couple days, but the last thing he wanted was for everyone to think his friend was losing it.  

“Just something on and let’s go,” he hissed.  

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t just walk around like this,” Tank stammered, pulling the joggers up his thick legs and blushing at the outlined monster straining against them.  It stood out for everyone to see, and even through his embarrassed shock the brawny man doubted that he’d have been able to stuff it in his underwear even if it had still been there.  

“Based on what Terrell and Mark just said I think you can.”  

“Could you at least not stare at it like that,” Tank spat, pulling on his t-shirt and grabbing the rest of his things.  

“Sorry, man, it’s just...a lot,” Greg blushed, leaving out the part about how the sight made his own, much smaller, cock throb.  

“Why does everyone think this is normal?  This isn’t even possible!” Tank blushed again as he looked at the huge, clearly visible organ snaking down his leg, dreading the thought of parading it past everyone on the way out.  

“I think I have an idea, but it’s not going to make much sense.  Look...let’s go back to your place and talk about this there,” he said when Tank started to argue.  The big man clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he finally nodded, glaring at the smaller redhead.  

Tank tried to act casual as he strolled from the locker room and through the crowded precinct.  He waited for the surprised cries every time someone looked in his direction, but all that came were the usual friendly waves and small talk.  Even when the incessant rubbing of his joggers caused his new behemoth to twitch and harden, no one gave the large tent a second look.  Though it had only been a few minutes, Tank felt like he’d been marching for miles by the time he reached his car.  

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, sagging against it.  “What the fuck was that?!  What the fuck is this?!”  He looked down in horror at his tented joggers, trying not to think about the fact that he’d just strutted past all of his coworkers with a rigid cock for all to see.  

“How ‘bout I drive?”  Greg plucked Tank’s keys from mid air and tried to subtly sneak a peek at the bobbing tent when his friend dropped into the passenger seat.  

The big man seemed shell shocked, squirming uncomfortably as the rigid trunk throbbed stubbornly.  “It just...everything was rubbing and it just...I couldn’t stop it…” 

“I don’t think anyone cared, at least.”  

“That’s not a good thing!  Why the fuck is everyone acting like this is normal,” Tank roared, his powerful fist slamming into the dash.  “Talk, dude.  You said you had an idea?”  

“This is gonna sound nuts, but that little guy, the one from the other night?  He said ‘I didn’t always look like this’.”  What if he was right about something being out there that can...change people?”  

Tank dropped his head back against the seat and rubbed his face with both hands, his furry biceps inflating.  “Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”  

“Do you have a more plausible explanation?”  Greg reached over and gave his friend’s straining tent a bounce.  “Unlike everyone else I remember how small that’s supposed to be.”  

Tank grunted at Greg’s unexpected touch.  “Come on man, don’t....it’s already worked up,” he sighed. 

“Sorry,” Greg lied, his hand tingling from the warmth of the solid club.  “But look...when you walked away from my desk right before all this happened, I had a, I don’t know, vision or something.  It’s like I could see you plain as day in the shower when it happened.  I did’t tell you earlier but the guy last night gave me this,” Greg said, pulling out the amulet.  “He said it would help me, and when all this went down earlier it got real hot…”

“So maybe something came looking for you and got me instead,” Tank finished as they pulled up outside his apartment.  He gasped when he climbed out of the car and his pants rubbed on the sensitive, aching organ and sent a shiver through him.  “I gotta get outta these,” he groaned on the torturous climb up the three flights to his door.  By the time they reached it there was a growing damp spot spreading rapidly across his thigh.  Greg didn’t bother to avert his eyes when Tank tore out of the pants, the massive, oozing cock springing free.  “Fucking hell, man!  What am I supposed to do, just cum in my pants now?  Is that normal too?”  

Greg stood awkwardly in the living room while Tank caught his breath and stomped off to his bedroom to find something that might fit better.  When his friend didn’t come back a few moments later he hesitantly followed.  “Uh...everything okay,” he asked when he saw Tank’s bare cheeks standing in front of a dresser with all the drawers open.  

“My clothes are all...everything’s different…” Tank stammered.  

“What do you mean?”  

“Fuckin’ take a look,” Tank spat, dropping down onto the edge of the bed, the head of his rigid monster nearly reaching the bottom of his bulging pecs.  

Greg didn’t know what he was looking for, but he had to guess that the complete lack of underwear wasn’t normal, nor was the prevalence of joggers and tight lycra.  Instead of shorts and jeans, Tank seemed only to have elastic sportswear.  Even the uniforms hanging in his closet had changed, the dark slacks swapped out for skin tight leggings.  “Oh...oh shit…” he stuttered, dropping down next to his friend.  

“What am I gonna do, man?  What am I even supposed to do with this thing?!  I’d split someone open with it,” Tank moaned.  “I’m a fuckin’ freak!”  He fell back on the mattress, the painfully hard pole standing straight up next to Greg. 

“Dude, you’re not a freak,” Greg said, putting a hand on Tank’s bare, hairy thigh.  “We’ll figure this out, okay?  If there’s a way to fix it, we will.  I promise.  I’m not going to let this one go, so just give me a...little while...to…” Greg trailed off when he heard Tank’s quiet whimper and looked down to see his hand had drifted higher, his fingers nearly brushing against the undersides of the beefy man’s tight, huge new balls.  “Shit!  Sorry man, I wasn’t paying any attention.”  

“No, it’s okay, I don’t…” Tank’s heavy chest was rising and falling rapidly.  He’d slid a hand up underneath his shirt to stroke his furry torso, exposing his firm stomach in the process.  “Sorry Greg...I can’t...I can’t help it,” he whimpered, sounding almost drunk.  “Maybe it’s just ‘cause it’s bigger but I’m...fuck,” he laughed, writhing on the bed.  

Greg had no idea why the sight of his hairy, muscle bound friend groping himself and writhing on the bed turned him on the way it did, but watching Tank’s broad, whimpering body and impossible cock nearly made him cum on the spot.  He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and closing a shaking hand around the throbbing trunk, adding in another when Tank moaned and arched off the bed.  

“Oh fuck, dude, don’t stop,” the big man whined, clutching at the sheets when Greg started pumping both hands up and down the impossibly long shaft.  The addled ginger paused only long enough to fish his own seemingly meager cock out, the otherwise impressive rod feeling tiny and insignificant by comparison.  He didn’t know why he kept pumping, or why he kept picturing Tank in his new clothes.  Greg whimpered at the thought of Tank’s meaty lower half squeezed into the leggings of his new uniform, with a nightstick shoved down a leg and his friend’s huge, round cheeks equally accentuated in back.  The same went for the spandex bike shorts and the way Tank’s hose would snake up and off to the side, his enormous balls bulging out the front like someone stuck a grapefruit in them.  

Greg felt a stab of guilt at the thought that his friend had been caught in the crossfire.  Tank now had to walk around with his obscene equipment on display because something had come looking for him and found the wrong person instead.  

Or at least that’s what he thought had occurred.  He didn’t know how any of this really worked, or what was really happening.  All he knew for sure was that his behavior was as strange as Tank’s new body, and neither one of them could do anything about it.  When he leaned in and began running his tongue along the underside of his friend’s pulsing shaft and around the fist-sized head, he savored every musky second.  And when Tank finally exploded in geyser-like fashion, he sighed contentedly as if he’d been caught in a pleasant, Spring rain as the sticky fluid showered down around him and his own cock launched its pitiful load.  

“Holy shit,” Tank panted, gazing in shock at the mess he’d just made while his spent monster gradually softened against his furry stomach.  At the end of the bed, he saw Greg’s regular sized cock oozing its way limp below his friend’s stunned expression.  

Greg wiped the salty fluid from his face and felt it running into his mouth as he sat in slack-jawed silence at the intensity of his friend’s release.  He knew his own cock was hanging out through his open fly but he made no move to put himself away.  If anything, he wanted to peel out of his wet clothes and curl up next to his beefy friend, but the release had cleared his head enough to give him some control over his actions.  “What did we just do,” he whispered, the medallion burning against his chest.      

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

Chapter 5

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

Johnny pulled his cruiser to a stop outside the bar and sighed.  This wasn’t his favorite kind of call.  He wanted to be cracking skulls and throwing criminals in jail, not responding to noise complaints.  He wasn’t interested in the law, It was the thrill of the job that he loved.  He wanted to use his brawny body to wrestle someone to the ground and keep them there.  He lived for the feeling of slamming a cuffed perp against his car or digging his knee into their back.  It was why he never went after a promotion; the thought of sitting behind a desk all day sounded like torture.  He wanted to be where the action was.  

Stomping towards the doors of the bar, he couldn’t help but think that was somewhere else at the moment.  Bright lights flashed against the diffuse film covering the door from the inside and Johnny could hear a faint pulse of dance music, but it didn’t seem loud enough to generate a complaint, especially considering that there didn’t seem to be any residences nearby.  He threw the doors open and muscled his bulldog frame through the crowded room towards the bar.  

“Fuckin’ queers,” he muttered under his breath at the sea of dancing, shirtless men who greeted him.  He avoided eye contact with the ones who looked in his direction, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea about why he was there.  Johnny didn’t mind working in the gay part of town as long as everyone knew where he stood, and the few men who’d been unfortunate enough to flirt with him quickly learned why that was a bad idea.  

He shouldered his way to the bar, increasingly aware of the growing number of eyes on his beefy, uniformed frame.  “Hey!” he yelled, trying to get the bartender’s attention.  He scoffed at the sculpted young man pouring drinks wearing nothing but a pair of tiny running shorts, thinking that he could show these guys what a real man looked like.  

Even as he thought it, his head started to spin.  There was a rush of warmth that fell over him and he staggered on his feet, leaning against the bar until the room stopped swaying around him.  “He...Hey!” he yelled again, the odd sensation passing as quickly as it came.  

This time the bartender noticed him, but only pointed over towards the DJ booth at the corner of the stage.  “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Johnny grumbled, pushing his way through the crowd to the other side of the bar.  He couldn’t find a way up to the booth aside from the stage, and at this point he was so annoyed that he wasn’t about to keep looking.  He climbed up, intending to storm over and pull the plug, but before he could make it more than a few steps the music stopped.  

Johnny froze when all eyes turned towards him.  He cleared his throat and puffed his beefy chest out to look imposing.  “Alright,” he yelled, the flashing lights reflecting against his bald scalp.  “we got a noise complaint.  I know everyone’s just here to have a good time but we’re going to have to turn the music UP.”  

It was only after the raucous cheer that Johnny realized what he’d said.  The older man shook his head and cleared his throat again, spreading his meaty arms and motioning for the crowd to be quiet.  “Sorry...what I meant to say was that we’re going to have to turn the music waaaaaaay up.”  

The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the sudden return of the pulsing dance music, but Johnny was more concerned by his reaction to it.  Instead of stomping over to the DJ booth or climbing off the stage, he felt his stocky hips starting to sway as he slowly looked the crowd over, not liking the eager, hungry stares he saw looking back at him.  Every part of his brain was telling him to get off the stage, but his body clearly had other ideas.  

Betraying none of his internal confusion, Johnny’s hands lifted to his shirt, slowly undoing the buttons until the wiry hairs covering his slab-like pecs could be seen through the opening.  The crowd exploded again as soon as the furry patch was exposed, urging him on as he casually undid the rest.  Johnny couldn’t believe any of this was really happening when he, in time with the music, rolled his broad shoulders and slowly let the shirt slide down his beefy arms, leaving his burly pecs and wide muscle gut on full display.  He felt himself grin when the shirt dropped free and he flexed his piston-like arms behind his shaved head, still swaying his hips in time with the throbbing music.  

Johnny was mortified when those hands dropped, one of them kneading a plump pec while the other groped his heavy package through his pants.  He begged his fingers to stop undoing his belt while he continued to flash a smug grin and gyrate in front of the lustful crowd.  Like everything else that was happening, Johnny didn’t understand where this sudden grace came from.  His movements should have been as lumbering and plodding as his broad body would suggest, yet here he was, rhythmically moving in time with the fast paced music.  He flexed his abs and popped his hips like he was fucking the air itself, causing a growing pile of dollar bills to start landing on the stage.  

While he was looking down at the money he noticed his feet join in the mutiny, betraying him as they kicked his shoes off to make way for his lowering pants.  Johnny had been so focused on the money that he hadn’t noticed his fly being opened until he felt the sudden rush of air on his bare cheeks.  The crowd went wild when his meaty, trunk-like thighs and round, full cheeks were exposed, leaving him in nothing but a small, bulging black thong.    

The burly stud didn’t understand that, either.  He knew he should have had on a pair of boxers, not a thong so small it barely covered his stout cock and left his heavy balls spilling out the sides.  

There wasn’t time to wonder.  Free of the confining uniform, his body went into overdrive.  He turned his back on the crowd and started popping his hips again, bouncing and twerking the solid mounds of his ass in expert fashion.  The shaking of his hips caused his straining pouch to slap violently up and down, letting his fat cock slip free.  Johnny screamed at himself to get off the stage, or at least find some kind of cover, but instead he turned back to the crowd, giving everyone a full view of his wide, twitching pole.  

He felt it start to harden as soon as it spilled free and now added the rigid organ it to the list of his betrayers.  His thick, solid cock bobbed before him, wagging like an excited tail with the slightest movement.  Considering how he was writhing and gyrating on stage, that left it slapping against his thighs and muscle gut constantly, a growing, shiny spot of ooze developing at the tip.  

Though the burly cop was confused and terrified, the crowd loved every second.  They ate up the sight of his thick, stocky muscles bouncing and swaying, and he wasn’t done yet.  The final humiliation came when he turned his back to the crowd again and pulled the useless thong down his firm quads, slowly bending and exposing his hole to the entire group before dropping to his knees and falling forward on all fours.  Still keeping time with the music, he dropped and started humping the stage, grinding his throbbing pole and flexing his ample cheeks, picking up speed until he flipped over onto his back and launched a stream of sticky fluid up onto his heaving chest.  

**********

“Guuuhhhh!”  Greg jerked back in his seat, gasping for air.  He’d just started his shift when the visions hit him again.  He was trying to wrap his head around what happened with him and Tank earlier in the day when the medallion burned against his chest and he felt like he was pulled from his cruiser.  He just managed to pull the car to a stop when he was suddenly floating over the city, rocketing across town until he saw Johnny’s beefy body clamber out of his car and head into a bar.  His disembodied vision was pulled along behind, and before he knew it he was watching the older man go through a striptease that culminated with Johnny’s naked body vigorously fucking the stage and cumming in front of a cheering crowd.  

“What the fuck is happening,” Greg panted, clutching the medallion through his shirt.  He’d already seen one friend’s package grow to impossible size and the world apparently change to make such an alteration normal.  And that was before the two of them decided to explore that change in intimate detail.  

His behavior was almost as jarring as the change itself.  Greg always thought of himself as straight, and he knew Tank was, but then again he also knew Johnny should be too.  Given what he’d just seen, though, that didn’t appear to be the case at the moment.  

Greg grabbed the radio, a knot in his stomach.  “Dispatch, how’s Johnny doing?”  The following pause felt like it lasted for hours.  

“Who?” the voice crackled back at him.  

“Johnny,” Greg said again.  “Tough looking guy. Works the beat on the West side tonight.”  

Another pause.  “Sorry, we’ve got Tony working the West end.  Has for the past couple months now.  No Johnny.”  

Greg’s hand shook so bad he could barely press the button on the side of the mic.  “Mu...must have heard wrong.  Thanks dispatch,” he stammered.  Not knowing what else to do, Greg sparked his lights and siren to life and sped off towards the bar, hoping to catch his partner before he left.  

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

Chapter 6

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

Greg stood in the crowded entryway, scanning the room for his former partner.  He’d flown across town, sirens blazing, and while he didn’t see another cruiser parked out front, he knew Johnny still had to be in the club somewhere.  Given what he’d learned on the way, he wasn’t surprised at the lack of a car.  

“Ohhh, another one!”  

Greg turned at the sudden hand on his ass to find a trio of fit, shirtless young men gawking at him.  “Sorry fellas,” he said, pulling out his badge, “I’m a real one.”  

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun,” one of them said.  The chiseled brunette stepped forward, his low-riding jeans accentuating his tapering waist and shredded obliques as he put a hand on Greg’s waist.  

“Careful,” the redheaded officer smiled, “touch the gun and it’s a felony.”  

The brunette was coy as they locked eyes.  “Which one?”  

“I…” Greg stopped himself, confused as to why he was flirting with the shirtless man when he should have been looking for his partner.  He shook his head and stepped back.  “...I’m looking for Johnny?”

The handsome young man gave a disappointed sigh and pointed over his shoulder to a bustling corner of the dancefloor.  “He was over there last time I saw him.”  

“Thanks,” Greg said, pushing past the trio and out onto the dancefloor.  

“Are you insane?” one of the men said just before Greg was out of earshot.  “He was a real cop, Billy!  You could have gotten in serious trouble.”

“So?  He was cute,” Greg heard the brunette say as the trio headed off towards the bar.  The addled officer didn’t know why the compliment filled him with pride, or why he’d been so intent on flirting with the other man.  He just wanted to find Johnny and get out of there before anything else happened.  

As soon as he saw his former partner he knew that might be easier said than done.  The stocky bulldog was clad only in a black thong and matching sneakers, gyrating in the middle of a crowd that was eagerly stuffing bills into the thin straps of the skimpy underwear.  Johnny wasn’t showing the slightest bit of hesitation, eagerly writhing in time with the music and teasingly grinding up against the men around him.  

The older man kept dancing even as he saw the young officer.  “Greg?  Greg!  Shit, man!  Am I glad to see you!”  Johnny finally stopped swaying and grabbed the other man by both arms, looking down at his mostly naked body.  “Look at what I’m doing, man!  What the fuck is happening?!”  Greg couldn’t tell by Johnny’s expression whether the burly man was excited or terrified.  “Since when can I dance?  Since when am I good at it?” he asked, turning and grinding his bare, plump cheeks into Johnny’s crotch while he flexed his piston arms behind his head.  He reached back and grabbed Greg’s hands, sliding them down his firm gut until they rested just above the straining, money-filled pouch.  “You can touch it all you want for a small deposit,” Johnny purred in his deep, gravelly voice.  

“John...Johnny, I...we need to talk!”  Greg yelled above the music, not pulling his hands away.  He watched the older man’s expression go from flirtatious to mortified.  

“Christ, kid, what am I…” he let go and quickly stepped away, his broad body turning an embarrassed red.  “Follow me.  We can talk backstage.”  

Greg ignored the jealous looks from the men in the crowd as they passed, focusing instead on Johnny’s ample, shifting rear and how good it had felt digging into him.  He’d wanted more than anything to slip his hands lower when they’d been resting on his friend’s solid stomach, but he’d controlled himself.  He wasn’t sure how many more times he could do that.  Whatever was happening may not have left its mark on him physically, but mentally he didn’t know what he was becoming.  

He followed Johnny into a small room backstage and watched his friend collapse into a heap on the ratty couch.  “Am I going crazy,” Johnny asked, rubbing his face and bald scalp with his meaty paws.  “I got naked up on that stage and jerked off in front’a everyone!  Look at what I’m wearing!  What is this shit?!” he laughed desperately.  “Why does everyone think I work here?  Why does it FEEL like I work here?”  

Greg had to pry his eyes up from the barely concealed package between Johnny’s wide thighs.  “I don’t know what’s happening, man, but it has something to do with that guy I told you about the other night.”  

Johnny’s brow furrowed.  “The little guy?  Fuck me, kid, that feels like a lifetime ago,” he sighed, shaking his head.  

Greg didn’t want to point out how literal that statement might be.  Instead, he filled Johnny in on everything that happened since; the changes to Tank, his own odd behavior, and how he’d had a vision of the older man’s routine up on stage.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” Johnny interrupted.  “What’s so weird about Tank? That guy always had a monster dick.  He can’t help but show it off all the time.  Guy should work here...he’d make a killing.”  

Greg didn’t know what to say.  He’d assumed that everyone who’d been changed would have the same level of awareness, but apparently their insight only extended to their own lives.  “That’s just it, he WASN’T always like that!”  

Johnny sat back on the couch and made room for Greg to join him.  “So you’re tellin’ me that, just yesterday, Tank was hung like you and me?  And he wore normal clothes?”  He blinked rapidly, trying to force memories that wouldn’t come.  “That’s hard to believe.”  

“Any harder to believe than this,” Greg said, plucking a bill from Johnny’s thong.  “Look, Johnny, I...I radioed in on the way over to check on you and...you’re not a cop anymore.  No record of anyone with your name ever being on the force.  But you remember it, right?” 

The older man took a deep breath and stared at the far wall, his face an expressionless mask.  “How am I supposed to know?” he finally said, shrugging.  He hopped up to his feet and started pulling the bills from his straining underwear.  “An hour ago I was terrified.  I was up on that stage convinced that all of this was dead wrong.  But now?”  He motioned down at himself, wriggling his hips.  “This feels right.  I still remember being a cop, but I remember this, too.” He turned and twerked his cheeks inches from Greg’s stunned face.  “How the hell could I do that if this isn’t real?  How the hell could all those guys out there know me if I didn’t really work here?  All I’ve got tellin’ me otherwise is you.”  He tapped the side of his bald head and turned back around.  “There’s a voice up here sayin’ the same thing, but it’s also tellin’ me the Greg I know wouldn’t be ready to blow in his pants right now.”  Greg followed Johnny’s smug grin to the rigid cock outlined against his leg.  “So how do I know you’re real?”  

Greg’s breath was fast and heavy as he stared up at his beefy friend.  “No, Johnny, listen, man, you’ve got it all wrong.  This isn’t how things are supposed to be!  Please!  Trust me!”  

“They aren’t?”  Johnny’s low rumble was a seductive whisper as he leaned over and started undoing Greg’s shirt, popping each button until he reached the younger man’s pants.  “Then how come you’re not stoppin’ me?”  Johnny’s rough hands slid through the wiry red hairs on Greg’s chest as he spread the shirt open, his broad frame towering over the seated man.  He grabbed the medallion and turned it over in his thick fingers playfully.  “Huh...you’re right.  Feels warm, but so does this,” he said, laughing at Greg’s gasp when he reached down and squeezed the younger man’s solid cock through his pants.  

Johnny let the medallion drop and fished Greg’s stunned cock free, taking a step back when the rigid organ was fully exposed.  The addled officer could only look back and forth between himself and Johnny, the medallion feeling like an anchor around his neck that was keeping him in place.  He opened his mouth to protest again, but Johnny put a finger against his lips, silencing him.  

“Keep your hands on the couch and I’ll show you what’s real.”  With a final grin the beefy man launched into a vigorous lap dance, grinding and writhing against Greg with such finesse that even the younger man started to doubt that Johnny ever could have been the lumbering bull he remembered from the force.  The man in front of him was using his muscled bulk in ways the old Johnny never would have dreamed.  Greg gasped and whimpered over and over as the deep valley of Johnny’s voluminous rear swallowed his cock repeatedly, working the aching organ between the solid cheeks only to release it again so that Johnny could grind it against his own stout, solid rod.  When the older man hopped up on the couch and buried Greg’s face between his thighs, the eager ginger hungrilly lapped at the heavy balls, fighting the urge to reach up and clutch Johnny’s granite cheeks so he could hold him in place and suck in earnest.  

Before he got the chance, Johnny dropped to his knees, straddling Greg’s lap and pinning him in place.  Their eyes locked as the stocky man started thrusting, rolling his stomach to work their oozing poles against each other while their bare chests writhed together.  He thrust away, mimicking the sex Greg wished they were having until the younger officer’s churning balls finally let loose and a geyser erupted from his throbbing cock.  

Johnny laughed and kept thrusting until his own eruption a few minutes later.  “That one was on the house,” he said as he slid off Greg’s lap and tossed the younger man a towel to wipe up.  “Next time you gotta pay like everyone else.”  Johnny started to pick up his discarded thong but decided against it, instead sauntering naked back out onto the floor.  

Greg watched his friend leave, still struggling against the weight of the necklace.  It suddenly felt as if it weighed more than he did.  His solid pecs struggled for breath beneath the crushing weight, and he was starting to feel lightheaded.  The room around him started to spin, and just as his vision was flung from his body once more, he heard a slinking, raspy voice fill his head.  

“That’s so much better,” it croaked.  “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow this for a bit.  After all, it’s only fair since it’s my power you’ve been throwing around.”  

Greg could only watch from his disembodied vantage point as a force other than himself caused his body to stand and dress itself.  He paused in the doorway, seeing a stranger’s eyes looking out of his face, directly up at him as if they could see him hovering there.  

“It sounded like there were a few gentlemen out there who wanted to get to know you a little better?” Greg heard himself say in a voice that wasn’t his own.  Unable to respond, he floated helplessly behind as his hijacked body made its way back out into the club.  

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

Chapter 7

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

Greg stared in impotent horror, helpless to do anything other than watch from his disembodied vantage point.  He saw himself from a distance of a few feet above, floating like an invisible cloud while someone, or something, wore his body like a set of clothes.  He wanted to scream, to fight, but he was little more than a speck of awareness, and a small one at that.  

“Don’t worry,” the unwanted hijacker purred in his mind.  “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant for you.  I’m just...borrowing...your physical form for a bit.  And what a form it is.”  

Greg watched himself run a hand across his firm pecs and down his stomach to give his bulge a quick squeeze through his pants, feeling every second of it.  He didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified that he could still experience what was happening to him even though he wasn’t behind the wheel.  

From his elevated vantage point he could see Johnny on the other side of the floor, his stocky, naked body still writhing in time to the pulsing music.  His friend’s stout, thick cock was rigid again, bobbing and wagging like a tail as he popped his hips and twerked his plump cheeks.  He was still stunned by the older man’s reaction.  He’d rushed to the bar expecting to find Johnny terror stricken like Tank had been, not resigned to the point of eagerness.  

“He was always talking about men like these, wasn’t he?  Don’t you think a part of him was always a little jealous?”  The voice rang through Greg’s awareness in stereo, circling around him like it was stalking prey.  Greg was desperate to give voice to even one of the countless questions and protests coursing through him, but all he could do was float.  “You get used to that after a while.  The bodiless sensation, I mean.  It has its advantages, but...”  Greg watched himself roll his head on his shoulders and take a deep breath, obviously scanning the room until he landed on the shirtless brunette from earlier.  “...the physical can only be denied for so long.”  

The disembodied young man wished that he could shout a warning.  He tried to force his perspective down, to zoom in close, to somehow signal the unsuspecting hunk that he was in danger.  The only response was a soft chuckle and a strange tingling sensation from where his palm should have been as his body stepped up behind the man at the bar and rested a hand on his lower back.  

“Am I in trouble?” the handsome young man asked.  He’d watched Greg’s approach in the mirror behind the bar and turned to face him with a smug, expectant grin.  

No longer distracted by the urgent search for his friend, Greg noticed just how striking the other man actually was.  Beneath the expertly styled, chocolate hair his face was framed by sharp cheekbones and a lantern jaw as it sat on top of his muscular shoulders.  The other man’s prominent pecs were almost perfectly round and covered in what looked to be a carefully maintained smattering of wiry hairs that spread down his tapering, washboard stomach.  On either side hung a pair of large, solid arms that balanced out the thick, sturdy legs straining against his fitted jeans.  

“Billy, right?  I think you wanted to touch this earlier,” Greg said, grabbing Billy’s hand and pressing it against his own stuffed bulge.  

The handsome brunette grinned and gave a squeeze.  “So is this a felony?”  Greg’s floating consciousness lit up as his body stepped forward and pressed its lips against the other man’s.  He felt Billy tense up in surprise before relaxing into it, their tongues wrestling for dominance.  

Greg was overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.  Instead of muting the sensations, the lack of a physical body seemed to magnify them, his floating awareness turning into a cloud of ecstasy with the slightest touch.  

“My place is only a few blocks away,” Billy panted, his sculpted chest heaving when they finally broke off the kiss.  

“Lead the way,” Greg heard himself say.  From above, he could see that all eyes in the bar had focused on the shirtless stud and the handsome police officer as they hurried out, hand in hand.  He was whisked along when they climbed into his cruiser.  Floating behind the caged divider in the backseat like a prisoner while Billy’s strong hand kneaded his stolen thigh, Greg couldn’t help but notice the irony.  

There was no conversation when they reached Billy’s apartment.  Before the door had even finished closing, Billy was on him.  The still-shirtless brunette’s tongue felt like it was swallowing Greg’s consciousness whole as he ran it along his neck.  The being that had taken over his form wore a predatory grin while it let Billy undo his shirt, then his belt and pants, until he stood in nothing but his tented boxer briefs.  

Billy took a step back and looked Greg’s leanly muscled body up and down with hungry eyes.  “I thought you redheads were supposed to be smaller than that,” he laughed, tugging down the front of Greg’s underwear to let the aching rod spring free.  

“I’m just full of surprises,” the stranger in his body said, grinning directly up at Greg’s hovering vantage point as Billy dropped to his knees and wrapped his soft, full lips around his rigid cock.  Greg heard himself let out a prolonged sigh just before his world exploded into a rainbow of pleasure.  Each dart of bliss caused his perception to swirl in kaleidoscopic fashion until Billy’s apartment had melted away to a psychedelic landscape of melting and blending colors.  “I forgot how nice this was,” the stranger purred, running his hands through Billy’s thick brown hair.  

The kneeling hunk grinned up at him and gave Greg’s solid bubble a squeeze.  “Just wait til we get to the best part,” he said, standing and pulling Greg along behind him by the spit-slick rod.  When they reached the bedroom he pushed the ginger officer down onto the bed and slowly undid his jeans, swaying his hips as he pushed the tight denim down to reveal the throbbing beast underneath.  

“Impressive.”  Even through the overwhelming tides of pleasure, Greg could feel the hunger in his hijacker’s voice.  That hunger only grew when Billy tugged his briefs down and let his thick, eight inch club stand eagerly before him.  The bodiless young officer tried to hold on, but he was having a harder and harder time telling where his awareness ended and the stranger’s began.  Looking at the striking adonis in front of him he knew he shouldn’t want the other man so desperately, but he felt a longing that bordered on painful.  

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Billy said, climbing on top of Greg and grinding their aching members together as they kissed.  The sensory input was more than the addled ginger could handle.  Each prickly hair on the other man’s muscled thighs felt like a live wire as his stolen hands ran over them, and the long, thick hose digging into his stomach was like a battering ram.  The voice in his head chuckled again, laughing at a joke that only it knew.  “I don’t...want to...brag…” Billy said between mouthfuls of Greg’s tongue, “...but you’re...in...for a good...night…” 

Greg couldn’t decide if it was excitement or terror that filled him when he felt himself roll over on the bed with Billy lining up behind him.  He knew what was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the senses-shattering intensity when Billy worked himself inside.  Greg had just enough time for a rush of humiliation at the sight of his toned body on all fours being entered from behind by another man before being swept away.  Each of Billy’s deep, forceful thrusts felt like they were penetrating his entire being.  The steady pumping of the other man’s hips was the motion of the cosmos, the clockwork rhythm that moved the stars and planets above them.  At least at first.  

Little by little, Greg felt his newfound enlightenment slipping away.  Billy’s abdomen slammed against his tight rear with the same force, but the blissfully full sensation was increasingly absent.  

“Something wrong,” Greg heard himself ask as Billy’s pounding fell out of synch.  

“Sorry,” the other man said awkwardly, his ample behind dimpling as he thrust again and again.  He blushed and paused to catch his breath.  “I don’t know what’s going on...this has, uh, never actually happened before.  Maybe we should switch...positio…” 

Had he been able to, Greg would have gasped at the sight when Billy pulled himself free.  Instead of a thick club, the gorgeous stud had a small nub, no more than a few inches at most, poking out from between his solid quads.  

“What...this isn’t…” Billy stammered, his brow furrowing as he clutched at his shrunken equipment.  

“Isn’t what?  Yours?  Of course it is.”  From his unwanted vantage point, Greg could actually feel the world warp around them.  A hot wind washed over him, exploding out from the necklace that he now understood was never meant to protect him, leaving a different reality in its wake.  

“No!”  Billy cried, his eyes wide with shock.  “I’m the best top in this goddamn town!  I…”  

“With that little thing?  Then what’s with those?”  Greg’s arm pointed over at the array of variously sized vibrators that had suddenly appeared on the nightstand.  One was even mounted on the wall not far from the bed.  

“I...those aren’t...mine?”  Greg could tell that Billy was trying to hold on to the dual memories filling his mind.  His burly arms inflated as he clutched at his head, a position that only accentuated just how much his miniscule cock had lost.  

“What about that?” Greg could hear the amusement dripping from the stranger’s voice as he pointed over at the pile of clothes next to the bed.  Billy’s granite body went red with embarrassment, then pale with fear, as he looked at the altered clothes.  Instead of his usual briefs there was a tiny jockstrap, but more jarring was the large, open hole on the back of his jeans.  The handsome stud’s eyes widened when he suddenly remembered himself walking around with his large, solid rear on display for everyone.  And not just at the club, but everywhere.  

“No...no...that’s not right…”  he said in a hoarse whisper.  “This isn’t possible…” 

“ANYTHING’S possible,” the stranger said, slipping a hand between Billy’s cheeks and laughing when the other man spasmed.  

“OOHHHH!”  Billy groaned, arching his back and clutching at Greg’s shoulders.  “Wha...what the fuck was that…” 

Greg smiled and let go, shifting around behind Billy and plunging inside in one agile motion.  The chiseled adonis in his arms howled like a beast as he fell forward on the bed, clutching at the sheets.  

“Oh fuck...oh fuck...oh fuck…” Billy whimpered again and again, falling in time with Greg’s thrusting without realizing what he was doing.  Before he’d even lifted his head from the mattress the handsome stud had taken control, working Greg’s cock like he had a third hand.  “What am...what am I doing…” he gasped, surprised by both his own expert actions and how natural everything felt.  

“What you’re...best at…” the stranger grunted.  

Billy groaned again, whether from lust or horror Greg couldn’t tell.  He knew the other man was wrestling with the knowledge that, despite all evidence, he really wasn’t a micro-dicked power bottom.  He could clearly recall being a hung top, and yet there he was, working his muscled globes like a pro while his aching little nub and barely-present balls oozed uselessly between his strong thighs.  As with Tank, Greg knew that Billy was trying to wrap his head around the idea of strutting through life with his altered body on display, regardless of how impossible that should have been.  Another mortified flash ran across Billy’s face when he finally came, his little new rod spurting out a few pitiful drops at best.  He thought about his friends while Greg finished, unsure whether he was really the cocky stud lording his size over all of them, or the eager hole constantly begging to get fucked.  

“Ooooof, I needed that,” Greg heard himself sigh contentedly as he looked down at the still-stunned Billy.  “I see why everyone says you’re so good at that,” he added, knowing it would only further confuse the altered stud.  

Greg wondered if Billy knew he was responsible.  The way the other man looked up at him with pleading eyes, he hoped not.  “But I’m...not?”  Billy stammered, looking down again at his mostly absent package.  

“I’ve got a shift to get back to,” the stranger said, ignoring the other man’s obvious confusion.  He clapped Billy on the thigh as he stood.  “I’ll see myself out.”  Greg had time for one last look at the chiseled stud whose now-soft member was barely visible in his chestnut bush before he was back in the kitchen watching himself get dressed.  The hunger he’d felt radiating off the stranger earlier was gone, replaced instead by a smug satisfaction.  

Just as Greg felt his hand close around the handle of Billy’s door, gravity seemed to find its hold on him once more.  Everything went dark as he plummeted, hurtling through an inky void until all at once the world snapped back into place around him.  

“Guuhh!”  Greg gasped, finding himself once again in control of his body.  He was behind the wheel of his cruiser back in his usual section of town, far from Billy’s apartment.  His hand shot towards the necklace to tear it free, but as soon as he made contact his fingers refused to cooperate.  

“Not so fast,” the stranger’s voice echoed in his head.  “We’re not done yet.”  

“Who...what...are you?!”  Greg asked the empty car.  “Why are you doing this?!”  

“You’ll learn the answers in time,” the voice said, its tone casual.  “All you need to understand is that you now work for me.”  

“The fuck I do!”  Greg tried to will his hand into motion as a searing, white-hot pain lanced up his arm.  

“Just once I’d like to meet a host who doesn’t have to be taught a lesson,” the voice sighed.  

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

Chapter 8

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

Greg tore his arm away from the medallion, shaking his hand as if he’d just grabbed a hot stove.  The necklace was cool against his chest but he could see a red mark on his palm in the shape of the metal. The brand faded with the pain, though the message was clear.  

“I get it.  I can’t touch you,” Greg spat, surprised by how normal it already felt to be talking to someone who wasn’t actually there.  

“Oh, that wasn’t the lesson,” the voice laughed.  “Everyone struggles at first, even the ones who seek me out on purpose.  They all want my gift until they actually have it.  That’s how it went with Marcus, the gentleman you met in the alley the other evening.  He wanted to grow those muscles of his, but when I suggested a more interesting look, and I think we can all agree that he’s much more memorable in his current state, he tried to run.  As if he could.”  The voice’s tone expressed the exasperation its lack of a face couldn’t.  “It was me you spoke with that night.  Marcus didn’t take the medallion off, I let him remove it.  A willful host can be fun for a while, but the novelty quickly wears off.  When I sensed you prowling the neighborhood I seized on the opportunity.  We’re going to do great things together, you and I.”  

“The hell we are!”  Greg started to reach for the medallion again but stopped halfway.  “I’m not going to do anything you waaaaAAAUUUHHHHH!”  His protest was cut off when he tensed and spasmed out of nowhere.  He was so caught off guard that he was almost done by the time he even realized what was happening.  Without warning, an overwhelmingly intense orgasm ripped through him.  His cock had gone from soft to rock hard in a flash, pumping out load after load in his pants as he bellowed.  When he was spent, Greg’s toned chest heaved while he looked down at his lap in shock.  “Th...the fuck was that?!”  

“You mean you don’t remember your condition?”  The voice in his head asked, dripping with amusement.  

“What?  I don’t have a condition,” Greg stammered, trying to reconcile the dampness he felt at his crotch with his dry pants.  He squirmed in his seat, freezing when he felt an unaccustomed bulk in his underwear.  His hands shaking, he frantically undid the waist and pulled them open to reveal a pair of briefs that were stuffed far more than they should be.  His immediate thought was of Tank, but the lumpy bulge wasn’t an inflated cock.  It was an absorbent pad that had been shoved in the front.  He pulled out the sopping, diaper-like material and stared at it in disgust.  “What...what did you do…” 

“The question is what did YOU do,” the voice laughed.  “Or more importantly, what WILL you do.  That happens to you often, after all.”  

“No...it doesn’t!”  Greg’s stunned brain was slowly piecing together the implication, his face turning beet red at the thought of spontaneously orgasming in public.  “I’ve never even seen these before,” he cried, letting the damp pad fall to the ground.  

“Then why do you have so many with you?”  

Greg reached over and opened the glove box on impulse, his stomach dropping at the stack of pads waiting inside.  “No!  This...this isn’t real!”  

He imagined the voice would have shrugged if it had shoulders.  “You don’t have to use them, but things could get messy.  You tend to...produce...quite a bit.”  

The young ginger’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest.  No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he’d seen enough of the stranger’s work to know that, at least for now, this was his reality.  Greg tried to console himself with the fact that at least his body hadn’t been radically altered, but it was small comfort.  Wincing, he grabbed one of the new pads and wedged it into his briefs.  

“I expected more of a struggle,” the voice said, sounding disappointed.  

“After what you’ve shown me?”  It took all of Greg’s willpower to keep his thoughts focused on the rest of his shift.  As much as he wanted to panic, he knew the stranger could read his every thought.  

“You DO learn fast, don’t you?”  Greg could feel the unseen eyes sizing him up.  “I think this should prove to be an interesting partnership indeed.”  

“So what now?”  Greg pulled the car back onto the street and tried not to worry about when his next eruption would occur.  

“Now I rest,” the voice said, a weary note creeping in.  “Taking you for a spin requires quite a bit of effort at first.  And then there was the fun we had with Billy and your little lesson.  But don’t get any ideas.  If you try and remove the necklace, I’ll know.  For now, go about your life as usual.  You’ll know when I wake up.”  

“Who...what...are you?”  

The voice chuckled.  “You’re a smart one...show me what you can find while I rest.  Impress me and you’ll get a reward.”  

With that, Greg was alone.  The presence he’d been able to feel but not see vanished, leaving him to clutch the steering wheel with white knuckles.  The panic he’d been holding at bay rushed in as the full weight of his predicament washed over him.  He was stuck, bound to an entity that had the power to overwrite reality itself.  In the blink of an eye his life had been dramatically altered, just like his friends’ had.  Trying to grapple with the idea that something could mess with as foundational a concept as reality was overwhelming on its own, and that was before throwing in the knowledge that he’d be walking around blowing his load in front of everyone.  

Greg wondered if people would react like they did to Tank.  Would they think it was normal?  Or would they be horrified?  The fact that he had supplies in his cruiser was promising, but he knew there was only one way he’d find out for sure.  He wasn’t looking forward to it.  

By the time he pulled back into the station, he’d had two more spontaneous releases.  The first happened about forty five minutes after the initial change, but the next was only twenty minutes after that.  Greg didn’t like the idea that they were truly random, happening without any rhyme or reason, and despite their frequency, each one pumped out what felt like buckets.  He thought his body would start to run dry, but as it was he appeared to have a limitless supply.  Wanting to hide in his cruiser but knowing that wasn’t an option, he steeled himself and headed for the door.  

The band-aid was ripped off almost immediately.  He waved to a coworker on his way in, trying to act casual when it hit.  “Hey RichauuuuUUUHHHHhhhhh…!”  Greg halted in his tracks, his voice cracking in a hoarse whimper that rang throughout the station.  He wanted to crawl into a hole as his body stood rooted in place, jerking and spasming as his untouched cock spewed yet again.  It only took a few seconds, but it felt like hours.  He could see a handful of heads turn discreetly in his direction, while Richard, the officer he’d waved at, gave him a sympathetic look.  It was the kind of expression he’d seen directed at someone with a nervous tic or tourette’s, a look that made it clear everyone knew the behavior wasn’t normal, but was too polite to point it out.  

“Hey Greg,” the other officer said when the blushing ginger stopped spasming.  “How was the shift,” he asked, ignoring the fact that the younger man just came in his pants.  

“You know, the usual,” Greg said, forcing himself to remain calm.  No one else was freaking out, so despite the fact that he was purple with embarrassment he tried to act casual.  “Quiet as always over there.”  

Richard shook his head and rubbed his shoulder.  The other officer was a few years older than Greg and built about the same, but with the extra pounds that came with age.  He was still in better shape than most, but wasn’t the cut young stud he’d been in his earlier days.  “I’m a little jealous,” he said, oblivious to the irony of his statement.  “Guy nearly dislocated my shoulder when I was putting him in the cruiser tonight.”  

“If you ever wanna switch…” 

“Nah...that part of town creeps me out.  Wouldn’t mind the quiet, but…” he shrugged.  “I’ll stick with the drunks.”  

Greg forced a laugh to join in with Richard’s and made his way to his desk.  Like in the glovebox, he opened a drawer and found another stack of pads waiting for him.  He grabbed one and tried to be inconspicuous on his way to the locker room to clean up, feeling like he was carrying a glowing spotlight with him.  The damp pad already in his briefs felt like a full-fledged diaper and Greg wondered how obvious the padding was to everyone else.  He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when he looked down at his waist, but was that part of it?  Did everyone else see a bulky lump?  He had no way of knowing.  

He tried not to think about it as he stepped up to the sink counter and undid his pants.  It occurred to him that he could be doing this in a stall, but his body was on autopilot, acting on a routine it knew before his brain did.  Though the locker room was empty, as soon as Greg had his fly open Austin walked in behind him.  

“Hey man,” the clean-cut brunette said, sliding over to a urinal.  He was a couple years younger and fresh on the force, and while Greg usually enjoyed the other man’s company, his timing couldn’t have been worse.   

“Hey dude,” Greg said, pulling the damp pad out of his briefs and throwing it in the garbage.  “You just coming in?”  

“Yeah, haven’t even made it out yet.  This schedule’s fuckin’ killing my social life,” the younger man sighed.  “Hard to get laid when you have to go in to work at…” 

“HHHNNNNNuuuhhhhhhh!”  Greg interrupted Austin with a loud grunt.  His briefs still pulled open to put another pad in, the mortified ginger’s cock shot free and sprayed all over the counter.  He watched the sticky fluid pile up in horror, equally humiliated at the thought of Austin watching his rigid pole spatter uncontrollably.  “Oh shit...sorry, man,” Greg panted awkwardly when he was done.  

“It’s cool...it, uh, happens,” Austin said as he put himself away.  “Shit, man, I was just gonna say my problem is the opposite of that,” he laughed.  

Greg shoved another pad in, his question from earlier answered when he looked at the reflection of his obviously padded briefs on display for his younger coworker.  He hadn’t expected another explosion so soon after the last one and frantically wiped up as much of the sticky fluid as he could.  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he said flatly.  

“Oh, hey, I wasn’t making fun,” Austin said quickly.  “I know you can’t help when that happens.”  

Greg didn’t know if he should be grateful for the other man’s understanding or furious for being patronized.  “It’s alright,” he said with another forced smile.  “I know it’s weird.  Believe me.”  

He pulled out his phone when Austin left and sent a text to Tank.  He didn’t want to go home alone and he didn’t know who else he could talk to about what was happening.  He had a small window to find out as much as he could, and he’d need all the help he could get.  

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

Chapter 9

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

“So what’s the emergency?” 

Even knowing what he was in for, Greg still did a double take when Tank opened the door wearing nothing but a draping muscle shirt.  His sleepy friend’s inflated club hung semi-hard and exposed below the baggy top that left more of the big man’s hairy, burly torso on display than covered.  “I was wrong about all of this...everything,” Greg stammered, prying his eyes away from the impossibly large package.  

“What do you mean?” Tank yawned, scratching at his bare, furry rear as he lumbered over to the coffee pot.  The altered man seemed much more at ease with his predicament than the last time Greg had seen him.  

“Remember what I told you about the little guy and the medallion?  It was all a trap. The necklace was never meant to protect anyone.  It’s what lets him use you.”  

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down a sec.  I’m not fully awake yet...who are we talking about?”  

“That’s just it!  I don’t know!”  Greg slumped onto a stool at Tank’s kitchen counter and buried his face in his hands.  “I never should have put the damn thing on.”  

Tank leaned against the counter across from Greg and folded his thick arms over his chest, his pendulous cock now rigid and pointing at his friend.  “So you’re saying the necklace is a...what?  A doorway for something?”  He waited for Greg’s nod to continue.  “And this something is what did this,” he said, bouncing his solid beast for emphasis, “to me?”  

“That’s about it, yeah,” Greg sighed, trying not to dwell on the memory of Tank’s enlarged equipment against his tongue.  

“And the whole protection bit was just a line to get you to put it on?  So why not just take it off?”  

“I tried.  It didn’t go well.”  

Tank cocked his head, a concerned look on his face.  “What do you mean?”  

“Just give it a minute.  I’m due for another one,” Greg said with a defeated laugh.  “It took over my body.  My whole body!  All I could do was watch while it used me to change some random guyyyyuuuuugggnnn!”  The lean ginger groaned and spasmed so hard he nearly fell off his stool.  “See?”

Tank’s look of concern turned to one of confusion.  “See what,” he shrugged, not at all bothered by Greg’s unexpected release.  

The smaller man’s shoulders dropped.  “I wondered if you’d know.”  

“About what?  Your cumming thing?  Of course I know.  But why so weird about it all of a sudden?  Like I’m gonna judge,” he laughed, hefting his thick organ.  

“That’s what I was afraid of.  You remember me always being like this, but I’ve only had this ‘condition’ since last night.  It’s like how everyone remembers you having that monster between your legs even though you and I know it wasn’t always like that.”  

“Whoa.”  Tank took a deep breath, his eyes going wide at the implications.  “So you haven’t….holy shit.  This is...a lot.  It was one thing when it happened to me, but you’re telling me these memories I have aren’t real?”  

“Oh, they’re real.  Now, anyway.  Somehow this...thing...can rewrite reality.  It doesn’t just change one person, it changes EVERYONE into remembering a new world.  Look..we had a coworker named Johnny.  Do you remember him?”  Tank shook his head.  “Burly guy, real rough and tumble, manly-man type.  Now he’s a stripper in the part of town he used to patrol, and as far as everyone’s concerned he’s never been anything else.  I just saw him.  And while I was there, this thing took me over and did the opposite of what he did to you to some random guy.  Dude was hung like a horse and now he’s barely got a little nub left.  All I could do was watch.”  

Tank took a long, slow breath.  “So what are we supposed to do?  I mean, if this thing is so powerful, what the fuck are we gonna do about it?  Look at what it already did to us!”  

“It has some limits.  It’s sleeping right now, and we know it needs a host, so it’s not all powerful.  That’s a start, at least.  I figure the best bet is to try and track down other people who’ve been affected.”

“But how will you know?  If everyone remembers them being the way they are now, not the way they were…

Greg shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It WANTS me to find out about it though, so there’s gotta be evidence somewhere.  Look,” he said, locking eyes with Tank, “I’ll totally understand if you don’t want to get involved any more than you already are.  I just came here because I needed to say this all out loud to someone or I was going to go crazy.”  

“Fuuuuuck that,” Tank laughed.  “There’s no way I’m gonna let you go after this thing alone.  Besides, I still owe it for this.”  He bounced his cock again, staring down at his enlarged organ with a faraway expression.  

“How’re you, uh, adjusting?”  

Tank spread his arms, his muscle shirt dropping and resting around the thick club that pointed at Greg.  “It’s weird...I was terrified at first, but after a while it’s like I have to force myself to feel embarrassed about it.  I’ll catch myself thinking that everything’s fine, meanwhile I’m walking around in a pair of tiny shorts with this thing on display for everyone.  Honestly though, the strangest part is my new, uh, type.”  He blushed for the first time since Greg arrived, looking suddenly sheepish.  “Since we….that first day….I can’t stop checking guys out.  Did you know Eric’s gay?  I had no idea.  I always saw him around the precinct and never got that vibe.  But we finished our shifts last night and next thing I know he’s…” Tank trailed off, shifting his weight from one meaty leg to the other.  

“That’s part of the pattern too,” Greg said, watching Tank’s solid beast twitch at the memory of the previous evening.  “It seems to only go after men, and the ones it changes end up attracted to other guys, whether they were gay or not to begin with.”  

“Does that mean you…?”  

It was Greg’s turn to blush.  The crimson ginger squirmed under his friend’s gaze, feeling like a nervous teenager.  “So far, yeah.  Before it even did anything to me I was starting to…” he laughed and nodded at his friend’s bare lower half.  “Well, you know.  It came out of nowhere, before anyone even channnnggguuuuuhh!”  Greg jerked on the stool as he sprayed again, this time feeling the warm liquid seep into his pants from the saturated pad.  “Guh...goddamnit…” he panted, looking down at the spreading stain.  “I didn’t get a chance to change the pad since last time.”  His face went a deeper shade of red as he heard the words leaving his mouth, but Tank only grinned sympathetically.  

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”  Greg followed Tank into his bedroom, his eyes glued to the hairy, shifting mounds of the bigger man’s exposed rear.    He winced when he undid his pants and saw the state of his sopping, bulky briefs.  “I’d let you borrow something, but I’m guessing you don’t want to walk around in shorts like mine.  We can just throw it all in the laundry.”  

“Uh, thanks,” Greg stammered.  He didn’t know why he felt so nervous and awkward as he pulled the damp underwear free.  Tank had seen him naked countless times in the locker room, but something about this time felt different.  The way his burly friend looked at him, the way HE looked at Tank, it all felt like uncharted waters.  

“Hey, at least now we match” Tank laughed, pointing to their clothed torsos and naked lower halves as he stepped out and tossed Greg’s soiled clothes in the wash.  

“Sort of, anyway,” Greg grinned, thrusting his twitching, six inches forward when his friend returned.  “Hard to compete with that.”  

Tank wiggled his hips and wagged his gigantic cock back and forth while he stepped close, batting it against Greg’s toned thigh with a loud slap as he reached down and grabbed the redhead’s shirt, lifting it free.  “We didn’t really get to enjoy it last time,” the big man purred.  

Greg wrapped a hand around Tank’s aching cock as best he could, stroking the thick shaft and feeling like he was tugging on a baseball bat.  “This thing really is impressiiiiEEEIIIIEEE…!”  Greg whimpered and sprayed all over the front of his friend’s shirt, his dripping cock still hard when he was done.  He’d wondered how his condition would work in the heat of the moment.  “So...sorry,” he gasped, mortified at the sight of Tank’s stained muscle shirt.  

The hairy wall of beef just smiled and pulled the shirt free before wrapping Greg in a bear hug, his massive rod wedged upright between them.  “We’re a hell of a pair,” he laughed.  “Mine’s too big to do anything with and yours won’t stop spraying.  This should be interesting.”  Greg gasped when Tank’s rough palm wrapped around his smaller, cum-slick cock and started tugging.  “Let’s see how many times we can make that happen.”  

By the time the ginger’s spurting rod finally went limp, they’d lost count.  Between Greg’s copious explosions and Tank’s pulsing geyser, they were covered from nearly head to toe in each other’s sticky deposits.  They’d gone at it desperately, pouring their anxiety and fear and embarrassment into their probing tongues and groping hands.  There wasn’t an inch of skin left on either of them that hadn’t been explored in some fashion, and the steady trickle of cum from Tank’s battered hole lasted almost until they’d finished their shower.  

Outside, the sun had just crept above the horizon as they toweled dry.  “So where do we start,” Tank asked, pulling on a pair of powder blue lycra shorts that barely reached a third of the way down his thick, hairy thighs.  

“I figure we start where this all began,” Greg said, blushing as he slid the pad down and stood in his bulky briefs in front of his friend.  

“You actually look really cute like that,” Tank said, reading the look on Greg’s face.  

“Are you making fun of me?”  

“No!  No, I’m serious” the big man laughed, swallowing Greg’s lean body in his arms again and giving the smaller man a peck on the forehead.  He patted the stuffed pouch and shrugged.  ‘I dunno...it’s like a kid in a puffy coat or something.  Just makes me want to hug you.”  

Greg pressed against Tank’s furry chest, not wanting to let go.  If he had his wish they’d spend the rest of the day in bed together, but they only had so much time before the thing in the necklace woke up again.  “Thanks...I think,” he laughed awkwardly, reluctantly pulling away and finishing getting dressed.  “And you’re sure about this?  You really don’t have to come with me.”  

Tank pulled on an equally tight, matching lycra tank-top that accentuated each of his bulky muscles, tufts of curly brown hairs spilling out around the edges.  With the massive hose snaking off to the side in the front of his shorts and the meaty cheeks lifted and separated in back, the brawny officer made Greg’s worn out cock throb again.  “Let’s get going,” he barked.  

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

Chapter 10

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

“So this is where you first found him?”  Tank slowed the cruiser past the alley where Greg had originally encountered the shrunken man.  Even in the bright daylight the neighborhood was somehow just as creepy and off putting as the middle of the night.  There were more people out and about, but the whole area still felt empty, like there was nothing behind the crumbling facades and shuttered businesses but hollow space.  

“Yeah, he came running from that way,” Greg said, pointing back the way they’d came.  “Then I followed him down the alley, he gave me the medallion, and then split again up the street.  But you see what I mean?”  The frustrated ginger pointed to the open sidewalks on either side of the street.  “There’s nowhere he could have hid, but as soon as I turned the corner he was gone.”

“You said it was this...thing...controlling him though, right?  Who the fuck knows what he could do.”  

Greg looked over at the massive club snaking down the leg of Tank’s small, lycra shorts.  Another inch or two and it would have poked out the bottom, to say nothing of the grapefruit balls squished between his muscled thighs.  The rest of his friend’s burly body was just as impressive in the skintight, spandex tank-top that barely covered any of his broad torso to begin with.  Compared to that, making someone disappear seemed a simple feat.  “I guess I just assumed it got him.  I never thought it WAS him.  Still can’t believe I was so fucking stuppuuuuuhhhhnnn….” Greg spasmed in the passenger seat, arching his back and lifting his toned cheeks up off the seat as he sprayed without warning.  “Case in...point…” he panted, his crimson face matching his hair when he finally stopped spurting.  With each unwanted explosion he was starting to wonder if they were getting stronger.  It reached the point where he’d started stuffing two pads in his briefs, and while the diaper-like lump under his pants was obvious, it was better than constantly soaking them.  

Tank gave the smaller man a sympathetic look while Greg undid his pants and fished the soaked pads out.  Part of him genuinely wanted to be supportive, but the majority just wanted another look at his friend’s stout package.  “So where do we start?  I don’t think we’re gonna find much just circling.”  

“There’s a bodega a couple blocks over.  I’ve talked with the lady who runs it a bunch of times….probably the best place to find someone who knows someone.”  

Tank pulled the car back onto the street and watched the few random stragglers stumbling down the sidewalk.  “You think anyone’s gonna talk?”  

“Maybe. Not if we don’t ask.”  

The two thought it best to park the car down the street and out of sight of the bodega.  They weren’t in uniform but they both had their badges if they needed to throw their law enforcement weight around.  They didn’t want to, though.  Greg especially knew the sight of two cops walking into a place like this would shut anyone down before they even thought about opening their mouths.  Maria knew he was a cop, but he hoped he could convince her it wasn’t an assignment.  Her angular, wrinkled face didn’t move in the slightest, but her eyes made a slow, up and down sweep of the two as they walked through the door.  

“We’re not here on official business,” Greg said.  He’d seen her expression enough times in this neighborhood to know this wouldn’t be easy.  People living in the South side weren’t in the business of working with cops.  

“That so?”  Maria’s voice was calm, but her smooth tone held a barely concealed edge.  Like her deceptively thin frame, it radiated a strength and confidence that made it clear if she didn’t want to talk, there was no way they’d make her.  She leaned forward and rested her head on a palm, the copious bracelets on her wrist jangling like a chain of bells.  “Then what can I help you gentlemen with?”  

“We’re just trying to find someone…” 

“Sounds official,” she grinned, interrupting the young officer.  

“Not for a case.  It’s personal,” Tank added.  Maria looked him up and down again, her eyes resting on the brawny man’s colossal bulge.  She raised an eyebrow before looking back at Greg.  

“I definitely don’t do personal.  It’s not wise to stick your nose in other people’s business around here.  Especially not personal business involving two cops.”  

“Please,” Greg pleaded.  “Look, I swear, this has nothing to do with an active case or any of the usual hustle that goes on around here.  I’m just trying to find a lead on someone who might be in trouble.  Little guy.  Real little,” Greg said, holding his hand at his waist to indicate the man’s height.  “And jacked.  Like a bodybuilder.  He stopped me a couple nights ago and said he was in trouble.  I’m just trying to fiiiiuuuunnnnnggg….” Greg gasped and tensed, hating how quickly he was adjusting to the sensation of pumping out buckets of cum in front of strangers at random.  “...to find him,” he continued, forcing himself to act casual.  

Maria leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach, shaking her head.  “My, my, my…you DID step in it, didn’t you?”  She leaned to the side to look over their shoulders to make sure the small, cluttered store was empty.  “I could see his fingers all over you,” she said, nodding towards Tank, “but you’re sneaky,” she added, watching Greg squirm in his damp pants.    

“Wait! So…” Tank stopped and lowered his voice from an excited yell, “...you know?  What he did, I mean,” he finished in a whisper.  

“Stick around here long enough and you start to notice things, things you can’t UN-notice once you do.”  She sighed, her defiant expression melting into one of sadness as she looked at the two.  “Let me save you boys some time.  I’m sorry for what happened to you, but you can’t undo it.  Trust me.  You won’t be the first to try.”  

Greg shot Tank a glance and pulled the medallion from beneath his shirt.  “Ever seen this?”  

Maria’s eyes narrowed and she tensed noticeably behind the counter.  From the rapid shift in her body language Greg and Tank might as well have been robbing the place.  “You don’t wanna go flashing that around here,” she hissed.  Her eyes were burning embers holding Greg’s gaze while she spoke  “I’ve seen you around here long enough.  I know you aren’t one’a HIS, but a lot of folks in this neighborhood aren’t in the business of giving the benefit of the doubt.”  

“Are there others?  With one of these, I mean,” Greg asked, trying not to sound too eager.  

“Don’t know how many, but there’s always at least one.  Usually doesn’t end well for the people who see that,” she said, nodding towards the medallion.  

“But you’ve seen it before,” Tank said, slipping into his cop voice.  

“Once.  Long time ago...on my brother.”  She rummaged at a corner of the counter and held up a faded polaroid of a lithe, androgynous man.  His features were soft, more pretty than handsome, with a long, supple body clad in a pair of small blue shorts that popped against his chocolate skin.  “This was back in ‘74.  Before he found that damn thing he was your size,” she said, her eyes darting up to Tank.  “Biggest guy on the block.  He said the necklace would solve all his problems, and it did for a minute.  Lots of guys he didn’t get along with started disappearing or…” she trailed off, her expression going distant.  “I didn’t learn to see it ‘til later.  When it happened to him.”  

“I’m begging you,” Greg said, leaning as close as the thick glass separating the clerk from the rest of the store would allow.  “I didn’t take this thing on purpose.  I was just doing my job...just trying to help that guy.  He shoved it in my hand and told me it would keep me safe!  How was I supposed to know what it really was?” 

Her eyes bored into Greg.  “How many so far?”  

He knew better than to try and lie.  “Three.  Four if you count me.  But none on purpose!  I swear!  One of them I didn’t even...it took me over like I was…” 

She whistled and nodded at Tank again.  “Your friend one of ‘em?”  The two officers nodded in unison, eliciting a quiet chuckle.  “And he’s willing to help?  First time I’ve seen that.  Here,” she started scribbling on a piece of paper and slid it across the counter.  “I don’t know the guy you’re asking about, but there’s someone at that address you could talk to.  Ask for Nicky.  He’s a little...rough.”  

“He’s been affected like us?”  

She laughed again, her eyes locking on Tank’s thick hose.  “Not like you two, but yeah.  You’ll see.”  She stopped Greg as the two thanked her and turned to leave, pointing at his medallion.  “I wasn’t kidding.  You put that away.”  

“Right, thanks,” Greg stammered, shoving the necklace back under his shirt.  

“I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or not that she could tell this was fucked up,” Tank sighed as they climbed back into the car, his enlarged package shifting between his legs like an inflating balloon.  

“I just can’t believe she knew anything,” Greg said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Think she’s sending us into a trap?”  

“That thought did occur to me,” Greg nodded.  “Don’t have a better lead, though.”  

“Just putting it out there,” Tank grunted.  “Don’t want to get caught with our pants down again.”  

Other than a loud moan when Greg came again, the two made their way to the address in silence.  Both of them were struggling to process even the small nugget of information they’d just learned. This had all been happening for at least 44 years, and most likely much longer since someone had to give the woman’s brother the medallion in the first place.  Considering that Greg had already changed three people in a matter of days, the potential numbers were staggering.  

“Here we are,” Tank said, leaning over the steering wheel to look at the rundown apartment building looming overhead.  The stucco facing was crumbling and the whole place looked like it might collapse at any minute.  A quick climb up the short stoop revealed an entryway open to the elements, any door having long since been destroyed.  The two had been to worse places in the line of duty, but not much.  They climbed the stairs slowly, the worn boards creaking ominously under Tank’s bulky weight, shreds of peeling wallpaper brushing against their shoulders on the climb.  The whole place smelled like mold and stale smoke.  

“Number seven,” Greg said, stopping outside a door at the end of the hall.  As far as his training went, this was the worst place they could be.  They were in an unknown environment, and the only exit was cut off by half a dozen closed doors concealing god knows what on the other side.  If this was a trap, they were in it.  He knocked on the door, his heart racing at the heavy footsteps he heard plodding on the other side.  

“Who is it?”  The voice was a deep rumble that practically shook the door.  

“We’re looking for Nicky,” Greg said, trying to sound more friendly than nervous.  “My friend and I were sent over by Maria at the bodega on fourth street.”  

There was a long, quiet pause before the door cracked slightly.  “What you want?”  

“Just to talk...we had a couple questions for Nicky.  Is that you?”  Even without seeing all of the man’s wide, expansive face, Greg knew they’d found who they were looking for.  

“I’m Nicky,” he grumbled.  “Don’t know you.”  

“No, you don’t.  But we might know someone in common.  We just wanted to talk to you about an experience you may have had.”  Greg watched the man’s sloping brow furrow as he looked the two of them up and down, licking his lips at the sight of Tank’s lycra covered snake.  He turned away with a grunt, knocking the door further open.  “Guess we go in,” Greg shrugged to his friend.  

The two pushed the door open and bit down on their surprised gasps at the sight of the naked wall of flesh in front of them.  Rough was an understatement.  The man was so wide he nearly took up the entire narrow entryway.  He made Tank look small, with a body that was covered in bulging, lumpy muscle.  He was all unsculpted flesh, with bowling ball shoulders so wide and girder-like arms hanging at such an angle he had to turn sideways to make it through the doorway.  Greg doubted whether the man could even touch his hands together due to the huge, prominent pecs hanging off his chest, and he wondered how long it had been since the giant had been able to see the soda can cock poking out beneath his round ‘roid gut.  Behind, he had an ass so large the lean, ginger officer could have curled up inside it, and his heavy legs shook the floor with each step.  His flat, puggish face was just as imposing, with a crooked boxer’s nose and a sloping, cro-magnon brow beneath his buzzed scalp.  

“Can I help you two?”  Before the stunned officers could ask any questions a small blonde man appeared behind Nicky in the doorway, squeezing past the hulking brute.  He was significantly shorter than even Greg, with a soft, curvy body clad only in a draping tank-top that left the bottom of his pink briefs exposed.  “It’s the same price for both.  Just ‘cause you came to us doesn’t mean it’s any cheaper.  $20 to blow, $50 to fuck.  If you both want to go at the same time it’s $75.  Each.”  He paused, giving Tank’s stuffed shorts a long, hungry look.  “That might earn you a discount, sweety,” he laughed.  

“Whoa, uh, we’re not here for that,” Greg said awkwardly.  “We just wanted to ask Nicky some questions.”  

The smaller man crossed his thin arms, his face taking on the same expression as the woman at the bodega.  “He in trouble?  He hasn’t left this place without me in months, so I can promise he didn’t do it, whatever it was.”  

“Nothing like that.  We’re looking into a missing person’s case and they might have a mutual frienddduuuuuuuuunnnnnnnn!”  Greg clutched at the wall to steady himself while his body was rocked against its will.  

“You don’t get those for free around here,” the man chided.  

Greg couldn’t tell if the small blonde was joking or not.  “Sorry...can’t help it.”  

“We don’t want to keep you,” Tank said, taking over for his panting friend.  “We just wanted to ask Nicky if he had any….weird experiences.”  

The big man’s face perked up after a moment.  “Yeah!” he nodded excitedly.  

“Oh god, not this again,” the smaller man sighed, rolling his eyes.  “Come on in.”  

The two followed the mismatched pair deeper into the ratty apartment.  Dirty dishes and random clothes covered just about every surface and there was an air of musk and sweat floating over everything.  A few worn sheets covered the windows, and both officers were grateful for the dim haze that obscured just how filthy the small hovel was.  

“What do you wanna know?”  The small man sat in a tattered chair and crossed his slender legs slowly, his eyes locked on Tank the whole time.  

“Nicky has a story, doesn’t he?  About before?”  Greg watched the big man’s eyes go wide as he spoke.  “About how he wasn’t always like this?”  

“Uh-huh!  I’m not...this...not me!”  Nicky beat his chest, the frustration clear on his face as he struggled and failed to find the words to express himself.  

“Hey, hey, calm down, baby.  It’s okay” the small man said, reaching over to stroke one of Nicky’s thighs that were nearly bigger than him.  “Why are you getting him worked up like this?  I don’t know what you heard, but…” 

“We didn’t hear anything,” Greg said quickly.  “I’m sorry...our goal isn’t to upset anyone, we just need to know whatever it is you can tell us.”  

“What?  That crazy bullshit about Nicky’s former life?  Please.”  The blonde sighed again and sat back in his chair at the expectant look on the officer’s faces.  “Alright, but it’s just a story.  When I met Nicky he was crazy.  Like, crazy crazy.  He kept trying to tell everyone he ran a company….that he was some CEO or something.  Big guy can’t use a two syllable word or spell his own name, but there he was telling people he’s a bigwig.”  

“I am!  It’s true!”  Nicky gave his small friend a pitiful look, his massive shoulders slumping.  

“Honey you know I don’t care what you were,” the smaller man said, his hand drifting up to squeeze one of Nicky’s ample cheeks.  

“Not stupid!  Just….wrong,” the big man pouted, his fat cock twitching at the smaller man’s tiny hand on his rear.  

“He looks scary, but he’s really a big sweetheart,” the man said.  “I take care of him as best I can.  He can’t do much on his own.”  

“But he insists he used to be an executive somewhere?  Did he say where?”  

Greg heard Tank’s question, but he didn’t catch the answer.  His vision swam as he stared at Nicky, the big man’s appearance shifting and blurring until the giant vanished and he was looking at a naked, middle-aged man.  He was handsome, with thick, wavy hair and distinguished features.  His body was average and slightly doughy, nothing like the wall of beef he’d just been looking at, with a package that was on the smaller side.  He looked at Greg with terrified, pleading eyes, as if he could actually see him, as if he could actually beg for freedom.  

The younger officer just stared, imagining what it was like for the altered man.  He had no doubt in his mind that at one time Nicky went by Nicholas and probably did head up a firm or corporation somewhere.  He had the soft body of someone who sat behind a desk all day, not someone who sold his body for whatever cash he could get.  Nicholas probably had a huge house somewhere, maybe even a wife, not a filthy apartment with a little twinkish pimp for a partner.  

“How long,” Greg asked abruptly, his vision clearing and settling on the burly new Nicky.  “Since you two met, I mean.”  

The small man looked up at Nicky and shrugged.  “Four years I think?  Five maybe.”  

Greg couldn’t imagine what it was like to be stuck in the slow, hulking prison, knowing the whole time you should be something else.  All the changes he’d seen so far were mostly physical.  Until now he never realized how bad it could actually get.  

“I think we’ve got all we need,” he said, tapping Tank on the arm.  “Thanks for your time.”  

The man on the chair grinned up at Tank and slowly slid a small foot along the big man’s twitching monster.  “I wasn’t kidding about that discount.  No charge for that.”  

Tank shuddered and laughed awkwardly, his cock throbbing to its full length in his little shorts.  Greg could tell his friend was actually fighting the urge.  “Th...thanks, but we’ve got work to do.  Maybe some other time.”  

They started to head for the door when Greg’s shoulder was swallowed by a meaty paw.  “You fix this?”  

The lean redhead turned and patted the hand on his shoulder.  “I’m going to try.  And look, for what it’s worth, we believe you.”  Greg doubted that he’d ever be able to forget the sad look in the confused brute’s eyes as they made their way back to the car.  

“Where to now,” Tank asked.  He didn’t need to confirm with his friend.  He was just as confident as Greg that Nicky was another victim.  

“The library,” Greg said, not looking at the other man as he tapped the medallion beneath his shirt.  “I need to do some research on this thing’s past.”  

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

Chapter 11

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

“I have to be honest, it’s an odd request.  Don’t get many policemen in here doing research, especially not on the South side.”  

Greg smiled at Professor Miller as the older man set up the research station.  When he said he was working a missing persons case he’d been given access to one of the private study rooms, complete with its own computer linked to the library database.  With it he could dig through old newspapers and articles going all the way back to the town’s founding while Tank searched the stacks for relevant books relating to the medallion.  

“All part of the job,” the young ginger shrugged.  “Never knooouuuuunnnnhhhhh…” Greg broke off in a cracking moan, spasming in place as he came without warning.  He hated how frighteningly normal it was all becoming - the sudden, obvious swelling in his pants, the groaning, the liquid warmth spreading like he’d wet himself, all followed by condescending looks of pity.  “Never know where the job’ll take us,” he continued as if nothing happened, watching the professor’s eyes linger on his softening bulge. “I’ll start with this and see where it goes.”

“Of course,” the older man said, blushing when he was caught staring. “I’ll come back by in a bit and check on you.”

Greg sighed and slumped against the door when the professor left, grateful for the room’s frosted windows.  He pulled the sopping pad out of his briefs and replaced it with a fresh one in a quick, practiced motion, already having the humiliating process down to a science.  

“Alright...let’s see what we’ve got…” he muttered, bringing up the newspaper database.  He started with the early ‘70s since that was the date Maria had given him, working his way all the way back to the ‘50s without finding anything useful.  There was the random report of a missing person, and plenty of standard criminal activity, but nothing odd or unusual that would point to the medallion and their current circumstances.  

“Of course it wouldn’t,” Greg spat, shaking his head after a fruitless hour of scanning countless articles.  “It all becomes normal...there’d be nothing to report…fuck!” he muttered, falling back in his chair.  “Okay...let’s start at the other end.  Used to be a lot of mob activituuuuhhhhnnnn….!”  he clutched the table, nearly jerking out of the chair.  

The powerful release serving as a reminder of what he was up against, the determined young officer attacked the database with renewed purpose, starting with the early teens.  He made it through several years, learning that the South side had always been considered a cesspool.  Since the town’s founding, it seemed to draw the less savory aspects of city living to it like a magnet.  The mentally ill, the criminally inclined and outsiders of all kinds flocked there like they’d been called.  It was interesting, but it wasn’t until he reached the early twenties thathe found a solid lead.  

Starting in 1922, a series of murders rocked the South side.  The area had always been full of random violence and the collateral damage that crime brought with it.  Police thought it was related to the outbreak of bootlegging that plagued the area, but it quickly became apparent that they were dealing with something else.  The bodies they found weren’t the usual victims of gangland retaliation or personal vendettas.  They’d be drained of blood and missing organs, or in many cases only partial bodies were ever found, looking like they’d been torn to pieces.  

Greg started to see a name mentioned repeatedly, an “importer” by the name of Vinny Ruggiero.  It seemed that Vinny was on his way to being a prime suspect before his own sudden disappearance in ‘26.  Prior to that, he was always mentioned in the company of oddly dressed strangers and people that were only ever described as “too tall” and “too pale.”  Regardless of his possible extracurricular activities Vinny was at least partially legitimate, being known to import bizarre relics and religious artifacts for high paying clientele.  He even started to be known around the South side as a religious figure in his own right, performing supposed “miracles” for people in the neighborhood.  

Greg had seen it all before.  Respected, well-to-do citizens who were secretly anything but weren’t exactly rare in his line of work.  Still, Vinny was an odd case.  The mention of tall, pale strangers, importing relics from far off lands, “miracles”, murders that had all the markings of sacrifices or offerings; it all pointed in the right direction.  

He pulled the medallion from beneath his shirt and turned it over in his hand.  “What were you up to, Vinny...” he muttered.  

“I prefer Vincent.”  Greg shot up out of the chair at the unexpected voice, looking around the room before remembering it was only in his head.  “You actually found something.  I’m impressed.”  

“Sleep well?”  Greg sat back down to keep his legs from trembling.  

“Quite.”  The lean officer could hear the amusement dripping from the voice in his head.  

“So your name is Vincent?  Or should I call you Mr. Ruggiero?”  

“Please, I think we’re close enough to skip the formalities at this point.  Tell me...what did you learn?”    

Greg’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest, the small room suddenly feeling like a cage.  “You can’t just read my mind?”  

“If you insist, but you never know what might get knocked out of place.”  Greg didn’t have a chance to respond before the vertigo sent him reeling.  His ears filled with a rushing sensation like he was falling or hurtling forward at rapid speed.  “I expected you to spend more time poking around the neighborhood.  Smart thinking coming here instead.”  

“Glad...you approve,” Greg panted, shaking his head.  “What did you do?”  

“Just now?  You’ll have to find out.”  

“No...before, when you were, what?  Sacrificing those people?”  Greg tried not to think about whatever destruction Vincent had just caused in his head.  He felt normal, but he knew how little that meant.  

“Power like this doesn’t come without a price.  I served my masters well and this was my reward.”  

“Stuck in a piece of jewelry?  Doesn’t seem like much of a prize.”  

Vincent laughed, the sound growing in volume until Greg felt like his eardrums would burst.  “Immortality?  The ability to change the world?  You’re just as short sighted as the rest.”  

“But why?  What are you trying to…” 

Greg was interrupted when Professor Miller knocked and opened the door, oblivious to the danger he was in.  “Just wanted to check and see how things were going.”  

Vincent purred, the medallion going red hot against Greg’s chest.  “Just in time for breakfast.”  

“Excuse me,” the professor said, shaking his head.  The older man swayed on his feet and leaned against the closed door for support.  “I feel dizzy all of a sudd…” 

Time lurched to a stop, the professor’s image sharpening in hyper focus as the rest of the room went blurry.  Greg’s hijacked eyes pored over every detail, sizing up the unsuspecting man in predatory fashion.  He hadn’t paid much attention to the professor’s appearance at first, but now he zeroed in on the thinning silver hair, the wrinkles lining the older man’s weathered face, and the dark-rimmed glasses that sat on his beakish nose.  Professor Miller’s strong jaw and broad shoulders suggested an athletic build in his younger days, and he still had a set of large arms filling out his gingham shirt.  A paunchy spare tire spread around his midsection, making his thin legs appear all the more spindly.  For someone who looked to be in their early sixties he was still plenty attractive, even with the extra weight that came with age, but his fit, youthful days were a thing of the past.  

Or at least they had been.  In the rapid space between heartbeats Vincent had already made up his mind and started working his magic.  The older man’s silver hair darkened to a golden yellow, spilling outwards from its short cropped style until it was a shaggy mop that fell past his ears.  The deep, etched wrinkles on his face smoothed and vanished entirely, taking the glasses with them.  In the space of a few seconds Greg watched the professor’s face go from elderly, to middle aged, to that of a twenty-something, before finally settling as a doe eyed young man.  

The rest of his body followed suit.  The sleeves of the gingham dress shirt pulled upwards, revealing arms that shrunk in size but grew in definition.  The buttoned neck melted away and down, the pattern on the fabric fading until all that remained was a baggy, light-blue tank top.  The exposed torso underneath was firm and toned, the scrubby hair vanishing with the extra weight as the skin drew tight and took on a glowing tan.  A set of modest pecs matched the athletic arms, and as Greg watched the spare tire vanished, Professor Miller’s waist drawing inwards.  The weight seemed to flow down, plumping out the cheeks that formed a perky bubble in the red gym shorts that the khakis had turned into.  The shiny bottoms hung loose on the professor’s now-trim hips, exposing the top band of his plaid boxers and outlining the thick cock that was twitching against them.  

“Wha...what…” the now-younger man stammered in a lighter voice as he stared at his altered body in shock.  In a matter of moments Professor Miller had gone from over sixty to barely nineteen.  

“Professor?  Are you...okay?”  

The athletic blonde looked up from the flip-flops that replaced his loafers with a confused grin.  “Professor?  Nah, bro, it’s Corey.”  He shook his head and ran his hands through his thickened, shaggy hair.  “Professor...fuuuuuuck that, dude,” he laughed, grabbing his twitching pole through his shorts.  “I’m just here to get laid, man.”  

“Not bad, right?”  The voice in Greg’s head was full of satisfaction.  “Look how happy he seems.”

“Seems,” Greg thought back.  “Does he know?”  

“My, my, you ARE catching on.  Of course he knows.  He’s just too dumb to do anything about it now.  Look at him.”  On cue, Corey scratched absently at his smooth pecs and flashed a dull smile.  “The good professor is still in there, he’s just buried under an overwhelming adolescent libido and working with about a third of the brain power.”  

“You gonna look at me all day or are we gonna do this,” Corey asked as Greg stared, unaware of the other man’s internal struggle.  He tugged down the front of his shorts and fished out a rapidly hardening club, teasing Greg with his washboard abs in the process.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry,” Greg stammered, confused why the sight of the young stud’s large pole had him fumbling to open his pants.  Without knowing why, the lean ginger had his pants and briefs around his thighs and was turning to bend forward against the table.  

“I said you’d get a reward, didn’t I?  When I was poking around earlier I took the liberty of removing your ability to turn a man down.  Just think about all the fun you’ll have,” Vincent chuckled.  

Greg didn’t have time to process what he heard before the young man’s eager beast slid inside.  “GGGUUUHHHHH…” 

Corey clapped a hand over Greg’s mouth as he pushed in deeper.  “Bro! Keep it down, dude.  You want us to get caught?” he laughed.  

“Mmmpff...mmmmmmmuuuuffffffmmm…” Greg could only grunt against Corey’s hand, eyes wide and chest heaving as the younger man picked up speed.  The sensation was pure electric bliss, a sharp contrast to the dread he felt at the thought of how often he’d find himself in this situation from now on.  Not only would he cum helplessly in his pants, he’d cum helplessly at the end of strange dick after strange dick.  

He looked back over his shoulder and searched Corey’s face for any sign of the old man but only found an arrogant smirk and dim, half-closed eyes.  If Professor Miller was still in there, he was buried deep indeed.  Greg just hoped he was buried deep enough to be oblivious to his new life.  He thought back to Nicky, and while Corey’s brain didn’t seem quite that diminished, Greg doubted the professor was happy about being stuck as a horny teenager.  He tried not to think about whether or not the professor had a family, and all that he may have lost in addition to his age.  

“Oh fuck dude...oh fuck...I’m gonna cum bro...I’m gggoouuuuuunnnn!”  Corey gave a deep plunge and sprayed, filling Greg’s guts to capacity with the copious release.  The young hunk kept pumping as he softened, working out every last drop.  Greg blushed when he heard Corey laugh and realized he’d started sucking vigorously on the fingers that had been clamped over his mouth.  “Bet you’re just as good with that mouth,” Corey said, reaching around to start pumping on Greg’s aching cock.  The panting redhead could only stand in place, sucking away on the younger man’s fingers while Corey finished jerking him off.  “Thanks for the public service, officer,” the blonde young man grinned, pulling his fingers from Greg’s mouth.  

Greg turned an even deeper shade of red when Corey gave his firm, hairy cheeks a swat, the whole experience leaving him feeling helpless and out of control.  “Just...doing my job,” he said with a forced laugh.  

“Ever feel like doing it again, you know where I am,” Corey winked, stuffing his dangling banana  back in his shorts and slipping out the door.  

Greg stood in stunned silence for several minutes before remembering he was still naked from the waist down.  He pulled his pants back up, going pale at the breeze he felt on his exposed backside.  “No, no no no,” he pleaded, looking down at his now ass-less pants.  Even his briefs had turned into a jockstrap, the pouch still stuffed full of the absorbent pads.  “You can’t do this,” he cried, horrified at the thought of walking around with his firm bubble hanging out.  

“I think I’ve proven that I can,” Vincent laughed.  “I could just take you over again, and I might, but that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds.  After so many years of borrowing other bodies they all start to blend together.  Here’s how things are going to work from now on, Greg.  You know who I am, or at least who I was, and you know what I was after.  Power isn’t good or bad, it just needs to be used.  So I can either continue to change you, or you can find me others.”  

Greg couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “What?  No!  Look what you did to me!  Look what you did to Tank and Johnny!”

“They don’t have to be your friends and associates.  You’re a police officer...think of the justice you could provide by feeding me criminals instead.”  

“I think having your entire self and life altered is a stiff sentence for stealing a car,” Greg spat.  

“Is it?  Would the victim feel that way?”  

“That’s why they don’t get to decide!  There are rules for a reason...we’re not judge, jury and executioner.”  Greg could feel the necklace cooling as Vincent’s presence started to withdraw.  

“I’ll give you some time to think about it.  Don’t take too long to decide.”  

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

Chapter 12

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

Greg clutched the counter, struggling to stay upright.  His knees were weak and his vision blurry from the assault.  He tried to scream, but the most he could manage were a few pathetic whimpers.  

“Damn...Greg...what’d we...do before you...got here,” Austin grunted, plunging his thick, oozing cock in and out of the ginger officer’s battered hole.  The loud slapping echoed through the busy locker room as the rest of the precinct went about the business of either getting ready for, or relaxing from, their shift.  

“I...I was...here...before...you…” Greg groaned, pressing back with his exposed cheeks despite his humiliation.  Far from hating his circumstances, his body was on fire with ecstatic pleasure.  His confined member strained against the padded jock, tenting out his ass-less pants while the muscled young brunette pounded away.  

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I did,” Richard laughed.  The older officer had already taken a turn and was busy fixing his hair in the sink next to them.  

It had only been a day since the encounter at the library, and already Greg had been on the receiving end of just about every guy he crossed paths with.  He’d ridden Tank immediately after the change, howling like a banshee in the otherwise quiet library.  To his surprised relief, his adaptable rear seemed to adjust to whoever he was with, meaning Tank made him scream with bliss, not from being split in two.  No matter how big or small, his hole was tight and eager for everyone.  Richard’s smallish cock had brought him to his knees the same way Austin’s thick seven incher currently was, and even though only minutes had passed it was always just as intense as the first.  And instead of being considered out of the ordinary, it was almost expected, like it was part of his job duties. As soon as he’d strolled into the precinct with his firm little ass hanging out, the guys had practically lined up.  

“Made up your mind yet?”  Vincent’s voice overpowered the others in his head.  “What do you think your friends would do in your situation?  Justice is justice, after all.”  

“Not...gonna...do it…” Greg whispered back.  

“If you insist,” Vincent sighed.  

The groaning young redhead felt the difference almost immediately.  With each of Austin’s forceful thrusts, he felt his exposed rear shake more and more.  He lifted his eyes to look in the mirror and went pale at the expanding rear he could see hanging thick and wide off his lower back.  It pressed out the sides of his pants and he could feel it spilling back against the other man’s firm stomach like a small tidal wave.  If his pants hadn’t already been altered to remove the back, there was no way he’d fit the colossal mounds inside.  

Richard reached over and gave one of the jiggling cheeks a swat, his large, rough hand feeling small against the ample globe.  “Still never seen an ass like this anywhere else.  I mean, I love my wife, but damn!” he whistled, oblivious to the sudden shift in reality.  

“OOOHHHHHHHHHH!”  Greg howled without warning, pouring his fear and frustration into the powerful release pumping into his straining jock.  

“Was that...from me...or...your...condition…” Austin laughed, palming one of the supple cheeks.  

“Does it...really matter…” Greg panted, arching his back and squirming as his enlarged backside amplified the already overwhelming sensation.  

“Guess...nooooOOUUUHHHNNNN!”  Austin’s fingers bit into the excessive flesh as he tensed and sprayed, slowly pumping his hips to work out every last drop.  “Whew...damn Greg...even for you that was good.”  

“Thanks,” the stunned, altered man said, wincing internally at the copious stream of liquid trickling out of his aching hole.  He felt like he was punched in the stomach when he stepped back and saw his new profile reflected in the mirror, his inflated rear standing out behind him like two actual globes had been strapped to his body.  He grabbed a wad of paper towels and wiped himself up as Austin and Richard headed for the showers, trying his best to avoid touching the heavy new additions.  Their impossible size caused him to adopt a hip-swaying saunter, and each step sent a ripple of motion through them like a stone breaking the surface of a pond.  

“Like the new look,” Vincent asked as Greg made his way to his cruiser.  He did his best to avoid as many of the guys as he could, not wanting yet another fuck session.  If any of them asked, and they always did, he literally couldn’t say no.  

“You’re a monster,” Greg hissed, his stomach turning at the sensation of his bouncing, rotund backside.  

“But I don’t have to be monstrous.  At least not to you.”  

Greg gasped when he climbed in the cruiser and experienced what it was like to sit on his inflated bottom for the first time.  “You think I’m going to do this to someone else?!”  

“Not that specifically, not necessarily,” Vincent laughed.  “There are so many options.  Take this, for example.”  

As if to balance out his obscene bottom, Greg’s sculpted pecs suddenly shot outwards.  They lifted and puffed like someone had attached an air hose, growing thick and round to the point where the horrified ginger could barely lower his chin.  The expanding slabs of meat were overly round, looking fake and surgically altered instead of gym built, with huge, nubby nipples like the tip of a thumb.  

Greg’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel, his heart beating like a jackhammer beneath his fake new muscle tits.  Like his pants, the top of his uniform had altered, looking like a button up muscle shirt.  There was as dark patch of fabric that ran up and down the middle of his torso, ending at a collar around his neck but leaving the bulbous lumps of his chest entirely exposed.  

“Oh, come ooonnnnnnnnuuuunnnn….” he groaned, spasming in his seat when he reached up to feel his altered chest and brushed against one of the exposed nipples.  The jolt of bliss that shot straight to his dick was like a live wire, the pleasure all the more terrible as he thought about what his lopsided, constantly cumming body would look like from then on.  

“You do know that eventually we’ll run out of things on your body to change, which means we’ll have to move on to your mind.  And after that, we’ll start in on more of those friends of yours.  And after that, we’ll…” 

“Fine,” Greg spat, punching the steering wheel and gasping when the motion caused his arm to rub against the side of an exposed pec.  He didn’t know what was worse, the thought of getting his oversized tits worked like he was being milked while eagerly getting fucked and cumming helplessly over and over for the rest of his life, or the feeling of defeat at giving in to Vincent’s demands.  He hated the idea that he’d be doing this to someone else, but as bad as the changes to his body were, he couldn’t take the thought of literally losing his mind.  “You win.”  

**********

“Aw, fuck,” Tony spat at the sight of the flashing lights in his rearview mirror.  

“Goddamnit!”  Glen turned and slapped his friend in a thick, tattooed arm.  “I told you not to run that fuckin’ light, man.”  

“Calm down, jeez...it’s just a podunk cop,” Tony said, pulling the car over.  “We haven’t even scored yet.  Just keep your fuckin’ piece under the seat...we don’t need that right now.  We’ll tell him we’re not from around here and it’ll be fine.”    

“Nah, man, you haven’t heard the stories about this town.  I heard all kinds’a crazy shit about Pikesburg.”  The brawny man rubbed his bald scalp nervously, a breaking out in a thin layer of sweat.  “Christ, just look at that guy.”  

They both tried to act casual as they watched the oddly shaped man approach in the mirror.  From the neck up, the young redhead looked like any other cop, but from the neck down it was a different story.  He had a set of huge, impossibly round pecs hanging out of his skimpy shirt, and they could see what looked like the sides of his bare, oversized ass bouncing before he’d even turned around.  

“Just...be cool,” Tony said, shaking his head and forcing a smile at the officer’s approach.  “Uh, everything okay, officer,” he stammered, his voice catching at the other man’s obvious erection.  

“You know you ran that light back there,” the officer said, leaning down and scanning his eyes across the two beefy men in the front seat.  

“No, actually,” Tony said with an awkward laugh.  “Sorry, we’re just passing through town and I guess I got a little distracted…” 

“I’m going to need you both to step out of the vehicuuuuhhhnnn….”  Tony and Glen exchanged a quick, surprised glance as the officer appeared to spontaneously orgasm in front of them, mesmerized by the shaking rear as he spasmed in place.  “...to step out of the vehicle,” he continued a few seconds later as if nothing happened.  

“Sure thing,” Tony said, lurching his thick frame out of the front seat.  He adjusted his straining t-shirt and plastered on jeans as he stood, grateful for an excuse to look away from the strange officer.  Glen came around and stood awkwardly next to him, the pair looking like brothers with their matching, muscled frames.  

“The problem here is that I ran your plates, and your friend has an outstanding warrant,” the ginger officer said, his eyes falling on Glen.  

The bald man folded immediately, the rumors he’d heard about the town fresh in his mind.  “Officer, please, I’m sorry.  We really are just passing through!  Look, let us go and you’ll never see us again!  I swear!  I can’t go back...I’m about to be 40...I can’t spend anymore time inside.”  

“Jesus, bro,” Tony groaned, rolling his eyes at Glen’s unexpected display.  “You’ve been through this before….don’t be such a pussy, man.”  

The officer’s head shifted back to Tony, the redhead’s slight grin chilling him to the core.  “Pussy man.  What a wonderful idea,” he said in a voice that sounded deeper than the one he’d just been using.  

Tony gasped, sucking in a deep breath as it felt like he was falling even though he knew he wasn’t moving.  The odd sensation passed, but it was quickly replaced by an even stranger feeling of warm air on exposed skin.  When he blinked and looked down, Tony discovered that his tight t-shirt was gone, leaving his beefy, tattooed torso on display.  His lumpy, prison-built muscle looked as imposing as ever, but the small red shorts that were plastered around his midsection ruined any chance at being intimidating.  They were skin tight, fake snake skin, and so tiny that they left the bottom of his ass hanging out in back while they clung tight to his meaty, solid thighs.  

Tony stared at them with wide, shocked eyes, equally confused by the flat front as he was by the stiletto heels his wide feet were wedged into.  “What...what the fuck!  Where are my cloth….WHERE’S MY FUCKIN’ DICK?!”  The beefy man’s hands shot to his altered crotch, showing off his painted nails in the process as he pried the front of the shorts open.  He let out another yelp at the lacy thong he saw barely covering his feminine new opening.  “Dude!  What the fuck just happened to me!” he cried to Glen.  

“You?  What just happened to me?!  I’ve got a fuckin’ pussy, man!”  Glen spread his equally bare arms wide, giving Tony a glimpse of his similarly clad, meaty frame.  The only difference was the bright gold color of Glen’s shorts.  

Neither of them looked as surprised by the other’s appearance as they each thought they should.  “So?  You always did!  Mine just disappeared!”  

Glen glared at Tony, momentarily forgetting his own predicament.  “Are you high right now?  I don’t understand why I even bother hanging out with your hooker ass.”  

“My wha...ME?!  You’re the one out here turnin’ tricks, bitch.  Are you not hearing me?  My.  Fucking.  Dick.  Is.  Gone!”  Tony pawed helplessly at his missing package, turning crimson as he staggered on the heels.  He turned back to Greg, pleading, “officer...please...you gotta help me!  Something just…” 

“Ignore him,” Glen interrupted.  “I’m the one who…” 

“You’re BOTH being busted for prostitution,” the officer said, puffing out his ridiculous pecs as he pulled out two pairs of cuffs.  “I don’t know where you’re from, but that’s illegal around here.”

“But...but we...I…” Tony’s bare, inked pecs were heaving as he panicked, finally noticing their car was missing.  He was too shell shocked to fight as the officer spun him around and cuffed his hands behind his back before doing the same to Glen.  The two stunned men staggered forward, blushing a humiliated purple at the sound of their clacking heels, each of them horrified by the way the tight shorts felt rubbing against the empty space between their legs.  That horror grew when they saw their reflections in the cruiser window and caught a glimpse of the bright, garish red lipstick and heavy eyeshadow on their otherwise masculine faces.  

“But...but this isn’t...we can’t…” Glen mumbled, falling against Tony as they were ushered into the cruiser, the hard plastic seat cold against the exposed parts of his meaty rear.  

“Welcome to Pikesburg,” the officer grinned from the front seat.  “We do things a little differently around here.”