Interactive: Make It a Double, ch. 13 (Patreon)

It was situations like these that told Ben he was on the right path.  Whenever he started to feel guilt or question his continued usage of the book, fate would present him with a sign that everything was exactly as it should be.  He hadn’t gone out looking for Mark.  It never even would have occurred to him that the brawny young stud would be a suitable candidate if the loudmouthed brute hadn’t put himself in the book’s path.  Ben was simply walking to work when Mark decided to make himself known.  

The towering brunette was helping unload a beer delivery at Sullivans, the sports bar a few buildings down from Trunks.  He worked the door at night, and Ben had long ago learned to avoid him.  Mark loved to harass the guys coming and going from Trunks, and Ben had heard plenty of complaints from the unfortunate men who’d dared check the muscled young bouncer out.  

It was a trap Mark loved to set.  He was a wall of muscle, standing a hulking 6’4” with impressively broad, bowling ball shoulders above a waist that tapered dramatically inward.  When he wasn’t working the door Mark was working out, constantly bulking and sculpting, growing and cutting, keeping his chiseled frame in perfect proportion.  The buff young man always wore clothes that showed off his efforts, squeezing into skin tight t-shirts that accentuated his prominent pecs and washboard abs while making his beefy biceps pop against the tight sleeves.  The same went for the fitted khakis that showed off just enough of his bulge and round, solid bubble without giving everything away.  Topping everything off was a sharp, lantern-jawed face, with high cheekbones, plump lips, a distinguished nose, and a short, trimmed fade.  Ben understood all too well how the guys heading to Trunks would get suckered in by the handsome stud, until he opened his mouth and the string of slurs and insults came pouring out.  They’d complained to the bar’s owner, but the older Hank wasn’t much better than his young protege.  

“What the fuck you fags doin’ over there?” Mark sneered as Ben approached.  “I’ve never seen your place so busy.”  

Ben smiled, making an obvious show of looking the strapping young bodybuilder up and down.  “Why don’t you come over some time and find out?”  

“Yeah, right,” Mark snorted.  “Fairies’d love to have a real man in there for a change.”  

“I mean it.  You’d be surprised.”  

“Hey, this isn’t a free show,” Mark barked, his face going red from anger and embarrassment as Ben continued to eye him.  “Just tell your freaks to keep their gay shit in the bar.  If I have to watch anymore dudes making out on the sidewalk someone’s gonna get hurt.  No one cares if you keep it inside but we don’t need you fags queerin’ up the neighborhood.  Some of ‘em are even trying to come in here.”  

“Oh my, we wouldn’t want that,” Ben said, putting an alarmed hand on his chest.  “But with such a handsome, charming young man outside can you blame them?”  

“Fuck off,” Mark growled.  He puffed his sculpted chest out and tried to look intimidating as he loomed over the shorter, smaller man.  On anyone else it would have worked, but Mark surprised himself by backing down a few seconds later.  There was something in Ben’s unfazed smile that gave him the creeps.  “I’m just sayin’...this was a one time warning.  I’m not gonna be so nice next time.”  

“I’ll remember that,” Ben chuckled, giving a friendly wave as he continued down the sidewalk.  

“Who the fuck does he think he is,” Mark fumed, unloading the rest of the boxes onto the dolly with renewed vigor.  He was furious at the way the smaller man had stood up to him.  “Should’a broke the little homo in half.  Send his ass over there with a black eye and a busted jaw and that’ll show ‘em what happens…” he grumbled as he pushed the dolly inside.  He was still muttering under his breath when Hank came up from the basement.    

The older man took one look at Mark’s sour expression and laughed.  “Fuck’s your problem?”  

“One of those queers from Trunks just mouthed off to me.”  

Hank crossed his own set of beefy arms over his meaty chest.  He was still solidly built for a man in his fifties, trading in a sculpted build like Mark’s for a thick, rugged frame as he aged.  He ran a hand over his salt and pepper stubble with a mischievous grin.  “Kick his ass?”  

Mark shrugged.  “Nah...not worth it.  Not in broad daylight.”  

“Whatever makes you feel better, kid,” Hank scoffed, spreading his hands.  

“What was I supposed to do?  Pop him in the mouth in front of everyone?” 

The older man shook his head and sighed.  “If my bouncer can’t handle one fruity bartender maybe I need to start looking for a new one.”  

“Okay, okay,” Mark laughed defensively, finally realizing he was being messed with.  “Trust me, this isn’t over,” he said as he finished unloading and went back out for the remaining boxes.  He looked up and down the sidewalk for any sign of Ben, not sure if he was relieved or frustrated to find him gone.  “Next time that punk gets it,” he muttered to himself.  “I’ll show him who...who…” 

Mark trailed off and swayed on his feet, a wave of dizziness washing over him out of nowhere.  He reached out to steady himself on a nearby street sign, his arm flexing against his weight.  The young man blinked and shook his head, confused why he still felt off balance even though the vertigo had passed.  There was another strange sensation that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but as soon as he let go of the sign and looked down he had more immediate concerns.  

“Gah!” the young stud gasped when he saw the source of his imbalance.  His already prominent pecs had somehow grown even larger.  The inflated mounds were almost comically huge, jutting out from his torso like a shelf and blocking his view of anything below.  The strange sensation he’d felt had been the warm afternoon air on his bare skin as the tight shirt he should have been wearing vanished, replaced instead by a bright yellow, cut-off muscle shirt.  The flowing, open sided top ended just above his navel, showing off the tight washboard that seemed even smaller compared to the heaping piles of muscle above.  “What...what just happened…” Mark stammered as he prodded at the solid balloons.  The thin straps of the top left more of his altered chest exposed than covered, his enlarged, solid nipples poking around the sides.  

“This can’t be reaaaahhh!”  Mark yelped, a spasm running through him.  The world spun again, but this time Mark could feel something happening to him.  The panicking young man looked down in vain, unable to see anything but his heaping pecs as he felt a strange tingling settle over his lower half.  His eyes darted over to his reflection in a nearby window just in time to see his fitted khakis pull up his sturdy legs.  He marveled as he watched the dark brown material shrink and thin to a pair of small blue running shorts, leaving his meaty quads and chiseled calves on display.  

Mark blushed at the thick bulge in front and ample bubble in back, but the deep red quickly turned pale when he watched that bubble twitch and shudder.  Despite his horror, he was helpless to do anything other than watch his rear inflate like his chest, his muscled cheeks expanding outwards in every direction.  His stomach dropped when the back of the shorts started to slip up and over the expanding cheeks, leaving the bottoms of his gravity defying globes hanging free as his already thick thighs widened to compensate.  

He was stunned.  In a matter of seconds his precision build had been warped and inflated, leaving him with a top heavy torso sitting on a pair of bottom heavy legs.  He looked like someone had taken one basketball and cut it in half to glue to his chest, while they did the same with another and slapped the halves on top of his already ample bottom.  He stumbled back into the bar in a daze, his head spinning as he looked to Hank for help.  

The older man took one look at him and scoffed.  “You get lost, sweetheart?  Trunks is up the street.”  

“I...but…” Mark started, confused.  At first he didn’t know why Hank was acting like he didn’t know him, but then he started to wonder why he was talking to the gruff man in the first place.  

“But what?” Hank laughed, emphasizing the “but” as he looked at Mark’s barely covered rear.  “Why don’t you go put some pants on?  This is a respectable bar.  I swear, ever since that place hired you all I see is that ass of yours.”

“So...sorry…” the altered young man stuttered.  He staggered back outside, heading towards Trunks without fully knowing why.  He winced as he felt his inflated rear bounce with each step and saw the arched-back stance he had to adopt to compensate for his oversized pecs.  The posture only accentuated both of his inflated areas, immediately drawing attention to both.  

“There he is!  Hey Handsome.”  

Mark didn’t know why he smiled back at the hung viking behind the bar.  He’d seen Adam and his oversized package plenty of times, but they weren’t friends.  Were they?  The same went for the lithe, dark skinned young man busily flitting around setting up tables.  Mark felt like they shouldn’t be happy to see each other, like he shouldn’t be there in the first place, but they were all smiles.  

“Hi guys,” he said, feeling more at home with each passing second.  “How’s it goin’ Franky?” He reached out to tousle the short, brief-clad ball of muscle’s scalp on instinct when the stocky man passed.  

“Hi Mark!” Franky chirped, reaching over to give the tall man’s rotund cheeks a slap.  The rippling waves that coursed through them made Mark pause, but no one else seemed to think anything was out of the ordinary.  

“You okay?  You seem out of it,” Zack asked, eyeing him from across the room.  

Mark thought about it.  There was still a lingering sense of confusion, but the longer he was inside the bar the more relaxed he was feeling.  What had seemed wrong only moments ago now seemed entirely natural.  “Yeah, just a weird day.  I walked into Sullivans by accident on my way here…” 

“Oh, gross,” Zack laughed, making a disgusted face.  “I’m sorry.  That place is such a shithole.”  

Mark nodded, folding his arms below his oversized pecs.  “I know, right?  Still...I’d let that old guy hit it.  He’s such a dick, but he’s got ‘daddy’ written all over him.”  The bottom heavy hunk paused again at the words leaving his mouth, but everyone just laughed.  

“I bet he’s a bottom,” Adam said.  “Rough and rugged guy like that?  He’s a screamer just waiting to happen.”  

“Everyone is with that thing,” Zack said, nodding at the outlined beast snaking down the tall blonde’s leg.  

“And when are you gonna find out,” Adam purred.  

Zack shook his head.  “Girl, please.  I’m not Tim...I don’t want my ass wrecked before I’m twenty five.”  

“He’s got a point,” Mark added, slipping into the conversation like they were all old friends.  

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Adam said with mock offense, turning to twerk in Mark’s direction.  “Why don’t you go find Ben and get those cakes all glittered up.  He’s in the back room.”  

Mark laughed as Zack and Adam went back to arguing, unsure why his heart started racing as soon as he saw Ben waiting for him in the other room.  The lean man had a friendly grin, but Mark felt a stab of fear pierce his fluttering stomach when he approached.  “Uh, he...hey,” he stammered.  

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” Ben said cheerfully.  He walked over and put a hand on Mark’s tight waist, standing up on his toes to give the taller man a peck on the cheek.  “Something wrong?  You’ve got a weird look on your face.”  

The strange fear faded, leaving only the excited fluttering as Mark stood looking down at his friend.  “You’re the second person to ask me that,” he laughed, sliding Ben’s hand around to clutch a pillowy globe.  “It’s been a weird day.  Can you believe I walked into Sullivan’s by accident?”  

Ben gave the cheek a squeeze and feigned a look of surprise.  “Dressed like this?  I bet Hank was thrilled to see you.”  

“Not exactly,” Mark grinned.  He stepped away and kicked off his shoes, stripping out of his cut off shirt and dropping his shorts on instinct.  There was a small voice in his head that told him he shouldn’t be stripping down in front of Ben, but he knew that was ridiculous.  He needed the other man’s help to reach all the places he couldn’t.  With his giant tits and fat ass, Mark wasn’t as flexible as the other guys.  

“I still don’t know what you see in that jerk,” Ben said as he turned away to grab a bottle of glittery lotion.  He didn’t want Mark to see the look of triumph on his face as he turned back around to stare at the altered, naked stud.  The thick, twitching cock and heavy balls between Mark’s meaty thighs were bigger than he’d imagined, but that only made things even better.  

“I don’t ‘see’ anything,” Mark sighed as Ben began spreading the lotion across his chest and shoulders.  “It’s not like I want to date him...I just think he’d be good in bed.”  

“Adam seems to think otherwise,” Ben laughed, loving the sensation of Mark’s smooth skin against his hands.  He hadn’t written the other man’s body hair away, assuming correctly that the vain stallion would keep himself smooth already.  Now, instead of hair, a growing layer of shimmery glitter was spreading down his ripped torso.  “You could always go work there,” he added.  

Mark laughed, closing his eyes and sighing as Ben’s hands drifted down his abs.  His cock was already twitching to life in anticipation of what was to come.  “Something tells me he wouldn’t do this.”  

“His loss,” Ben said, giving Mark’s rigid cock a quick tug.  His own inflated equipment was ready to burst at the way the former homophobe was putty in his hands.  He quickly lathered up the brawny man’s legs and spun him around to begin working on his broad back.  

“Mmmm…” Mark sighed, ignoring the voice in his head yelling at him that this was all wrong.  Instead he pushed his plump cheeks back and ground them against Ben, loving the large, solid lump he felt pressing back.  “It’s a moot point anyway.”  

“We could always pretend if you want,” Ben said, gripping the sides of Mark’s dimpled globes.  He pressed his tented pants against the supple mounds and rocked his hips.  “I’m technically older than you and,” Ben said as he fished his large, thick hose free, “I’m probably bigger than Hank.”    

“Yeah?”  Mark looked back over his shoulder with a bashful grin as Ben’s pulsing head pushed around between his cheeks.  With a deft pop of his hips the muscled man bent forward and impaled himself on Ben’s aching rod.  He loved how big his friend’s cock was compared to the rest of his lean, wiry build.  It would have been large on anyone, but on Ben it was massive.  

“Eager little thing, aren’t ya,” Ben laughed, deepening his voice to do his best Hank impression.  “Well hold on, sweetheart.  It’s a real man, not one of those queers up the street.”  

“OOHHhhhh….yessss….yes daddy…give it...to me...” Mark cooed, his ass and chest bouncing in equal measure as Ben hammered into him.  The voice in his head had turned into a scream, but he couldn’t hear it over his own desperate moans.  

Ben loved every second of it.  Picturing the old Mark calling another man daddy while begging to be fucked was almost as hot as the impossible ass slamming against his stomach, or the bouncing pecs he cupped from behind.  He could hear the other man’s impressive cock slapping around uselessly and wondered if the formerly straight bouncer ever imagined a time when he wouldn’t even want to use it.  “You like having that queer ass fucked by a real man?  Huh?  Let me hear you say it,” he snarled.  

Mark threw his head back and whimpered, nearing the edge.  “Yeeuuahhhuhh...yes...daddy...I...looOOOHHHoooovvee a...real...man...in..insiiiIIIEEEE!”  

Ben jammed in deep, exploding at the sound of the other man’s desperate shriek as Mark’s untouched cock launched ropey strands across the room.  He slowed his pumping while the big man kept his hands clutched at his chest.  

“Def...definitely wouldn’t get that at Sullivans…” Mark finally panted as he caught his breath.  

“You never know.  People could surprise you,” Ben laughed as he pulled out and gave Mark’s ass a swat.  The idea was already forming as he watched his new friend clean up the mess they’d made and slip into a pair of hot pink briefs with “Trunks” written across the ass in bright blue letters.  Given the size of his expansive rear, the stuffed underwear was like a billboard.  Mark would spend the rest of the night standing out front working the door in nothing else but a pair of matching high tops, his shimmering, warped muscle reflecting under the lights like a beacon.  

He turned to the book when Mark was gone, realizing he’d been going about the crowd problem all wrong.  They didn’t just need more employees, they needed another space altogether.  

He knew just the spot.