Heads or Tails (vignette) (Patreon)

“It didn’t work!  What the fuck did I even pay you for?”  Tyler fumed, gripping his phone so hard it threatened to shatter.  

“A chance,” the man on the other end said, his tone as calm as ever.  “The agreement was explicitly clear that results were not guaranteed.  You paid for a chance, and the coin has spoken. “

“But I did everything you told me to!  I followed the instructions to the letter.  Exactly.  Then I flipped the damned thing and nothing happened!” 

“I understand your frustration, but you knew this was a possibility going in.  The fact that you followed the instructions as well as you did is most likely why we’re even able to have this conversation right now.  These things sometimes have a way of...backfiring...if people aren’t careful.”  

The man’s quiet tone only fed Tyler’s anger.  “This is all just a racket, isn’t it?  You sell people some bullshit line about granting wishes by flipping ‘gold’ coins with weird symbols on them, but none of it’s real.  Fine.  I’ll just flip this thing a few more times and see what happens, then.”  

“I would strongly advise against that,” the man said, his voice growing stern before softening again.  “Look, I get it.  People don’t find their way to me unless they’re already desperate, and I say that without judgment.  I’m truly sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted, but you need to let this go.  You’re clearly a man with resources...spend some of that money on counseling, or find yourself a cute boy looking for a sugar daddy and have fun for a while.  Just please, for your sake, walk away from this one.  I can give you the name of a…” 

Tyler hung up and hurled his phone across the room.  There was a sharp crack as it ricocheted off the far wall of his townhouse, leaving a small dent in the drywall.  “Patronizing son of a bitch,” he fumed, his toned arms flexing as he leaned against the kitchen island for support.  The gold coin sat a few feet away, tantalizingly close, but Tyler averted his eyes.  He didn’t want to dwell on how much money he’d just spent on the useless artifact.  Even for a successful corporate man like himself it was no small sum.  “I don’t know what I was thinking going to someone like that in the first place,” Tyler sighed, trying to regain his composure.  He felt foolish and used, both foreign sensations for the middle aged man.  

By all accounts, he was a success.  He was smart, respected, and well-liked by his colleagues in the field, and he had a lively social network outside of the office.  His six-figure income left him more than comfortable, and at forty five, Tyler still had the lean, athletic build of someone fifteen years younger.  Standing an impressive 6’2”, his sharp, handsome features and salt-and-pepper hair added to his imposing figure, giving him a mature, distinguished look.  He lived in a luxurious, three-story townhouse in the city’s trendiest neighborhood, and though he was getting older, Tyler still had no difficulty bringing home guys half his age.  

Which made his anger all the more surprising.  He’d been blindsided when Christopher was awarded the senior position over him, but even without the promotion Tyler was still set for life.  But he couldn’t stop thinking about how some punk kid, only a few years out of college, made such a jump when he’d been busting his ass for years.  He knew it was all about the connections Christopher had, and the obscene amount of ass-kissing the younger man did on a daily basis.  

It didn’t help that his sudden rival was gorgeous, either.  Christopher was a jock through-and-through, with a sculpted, tapering build and a full head of thick, chocolate hair that aided his All-American, boy-next-door looks.  The young hunk still carried himself around the office with a frat boy swagger that made Tyler’s blood boil.  The older man had always avoided fraternities when he’d been in college, and even all these years later it infuriated him to think that the frat was where Christopher’s connections had come from.  Like the inevitable sports scholarship that let him coast through his classes, the young jock was able to coast into adult life all because he’d spent time getting hazed and being an arrogant womanizer.  

Tyler tried to ignore his resentment.  He tried to focus on what he had instead of what he’d missed out on, but every time he heard Christopher’s smug tone or saw the young man’s perfect ass strutting around the office it left him in a rage.  

After a few months of impotent fury Tyler had been on the verge of turning in his resignation when he’d found the man with the coin.  He was walking home from work, a benefit that came with his pricy townhouse, when a glint caught his eye down a side alley.  Though he walked the same route every day, Tyler couldn’t remember ever noticing the narrow alley before, or the small storefront it held.  He’d turned down it, more out of curiosity than anything else, and a few minutes later Tyler was pouring his anger out to the man behind the counter of a small antique shop.  

Everything about the scenario should have struck him as crazy.  The fact that he couldn’t remember what the man looked like, or where the gold coin had come from, should have raised a red flag.  Tyler remembered their conversation, that, for a price, the man could give him a chance to enact his wildest fantasies on Christopher.  All Tyler would have to do is focus on what he wanted and flip a coin.  If it landed on heads, his vision would come true.  If it landed on tails, nothing would happen.  It was a way of maintaining balance, the man had explained.  He’d also been emphatic that Tyler shouldn’t try again if it came up tails.  Once the universe spoke, it didn’t like being talked back to.  

As foolish as it all sounded, Tyler had forked over the money and left.  The man hadn’t given him a coin, he was certain of it.  He remembered exchanging the money and then leaving in something of a daze, but he was sure that he’d never seen the gold coin he later found sitting on his bed along with a small strip of paper bearing a phone number.  With the bizarre, intricate patterns covering both sides, there was no way he would have forgotten seeing something so unique.  

Tyler took it as a sign that there might be something to the man’s impossible tale after all, but instead of urging caution, the possibility only spurred him on.  He grabbed the coin, focusing on Christopher.  Since the young man carried himself like an arrogant frat boy, that’s what he could go back to being.  Only this time, Tyler wanted his experience to be different.  He wanted to see how much coasting Christopher could do as a dumb jock with nothing but his body to rely on, and even that he wanted to change.  Instead of the tall, tapering stud, he pictured Christopher as short and stocky, with a shrunken cock to match his shrunken brain and build.  Instead of a ravenous womanizer, Tyler pictured this version of Christopher as being more focused on making sure his brothers were taken care of.  

Coin in hand, Tyler had been stunned at the level of detail he saw in his mind.  He watched the shortened, broadened Christopher on his knees, his boyish face buried in the lap of another young man while his meaty fists stroked another pair on either side.  The scene switched again, and this time Christopher was on all fours, his burly new body shaking from the pounding it received from the laughing wall of muscle behind him.  

Tyler’s cock throbbed at the sight of Christopher’s dulled expression, and at the little nub between his meaty thighs.  It was everything he’d imagined and then some.  Without the slightest hesitation he’d flipped the coin, the gold feeling like a lead weight when it thumped back into his hand.  The visions had vanished immediately, and Tyler knew in his gut it hadn’t worked.  Before calling the number on the paper, he’d called Christopher just to be sure.  He pretended to have a work question when the younger man answered, sounding just as infuriatingly sure of himself as he always did.  

After that he’d called the number on the paper, and now he stood looking down at the coin once again.  

“Fuck it,” Tyler shrugged, grabbing the small gold disc.  “None of this is real anyway, right?  You’ve spoken, huh?” he yelled, looking around the empty room.  “I’ve got some words for you, too,” he spat, sending the coin flipping into the air with his thumb.  

He didn’t see it land.  As soon as the coin was airborne, Tyler didn’t see anything.  He was hit by a wave of darkness and a sensation of falling that took his breath away.  It all happened so fast that he barely had time to register any of it before he was shooting upright, gasping for breath.  

“HHHUUUNNNHHH!”  He wheezed, his hands clutching at the mattress beneath him.  Tyler blinked and looked around at the unfamiliar room, groggy and disoriented.  He didn’t think he’d just been in bed, but he was having a hard time remembering what he’d just been doing.  A voice in his head told him he’d been standing in a kitchen, but the dim, messy bedroom certainly wasn’t that.  Looking down at himself, Tyler didn’t think he’d been shirtless, either, but the voice in his head seemed more concerned with the prominent, heaping pecs hanging off his torso.  He prodded at them, the voice equally alarmed at the size of his arms as he lumbered out from under the thin sheet and off the bed.  

The voice became a scream.  Coming face-to-face with his reflection in the dresser’s mirror, Tyler didn’t understand why he looked so young.  Instead of his mid-forties, he looked to be in his early twenties.  They were still recognizable as his own, but his sharp features had filled out, his jaw widening and his lips plumping, and his salt-and-pepper hair now lacked any salt as it sat in a short buzz cut on his scalp.  And it wasn’t the only thing that looked too short.  It was hard to tell in his dazed state, but Tyler knew his meaty new legs weren’t nearly as long as they should have been based on how the furniture hit him.  He shifted his weight nervously, feeling his inflated, ample rear flex as he stared at his brawny muscle gut.  He wasn’t long and lean anymore but short and stocky, built more like a wrestler than a runner.  

A sickening sense of familiarity washed over him as he gawked at the tiny bulge in his little briefs, his stomach dropping when he pulled the waist open and saw a short nub where his lengthy cock should have been.  “Fuck is this,” he said, his voice little more than a deep grunt as he palmed his tiny poker and petite balls.  

The voice in his head was telling him to stop and think, to remember how he should have been, but instead Tyler grabbed a baseball hat off the dresser and threw it on backwards as he lumbered out of the room and into an unfamiliar hallway.  His hand still shoved in his briefs, his body was on autopilot as it wound down a flight of stairs to a small workout room.  The voice that he was gradually coming to recognize as the old Tyler was mortified at his actions.  He could hear the sounds of other people in the house and he was terrified at the thought of being caught lumbering around with his hand in his underwear.  He remembered the coin and Christopher and knew something had gone horribly wrong, but he couldn’t get that knowledge to connect to the rest of his addled new brain.  

When he saw the ripped, shirtless young man pumping out a set of dumbbell flyes on a bench, Tyler tried harder than ever to stop himself from waddling in.  It was a futile effort, and quickly became a moot point when the tanned, dark-haired jock looked over at him with a broad grin.  

“Ty!  What’s up, little guy?”  

Tyler felt like he was falling all over again at the sight of the young man’s ripped frame.  His tiny cock surged in his palm, a meager trickle of information dripping slowly through his brain.  He somehow knew the man on the bench was named Jordan, and that he had what Tyler wanted.  Instead of asking any of the questions he wanted to, or turning around and fleeing, the old Tyler was mortified when he lumbered closer.  “Fuckin’ horny,” he grunted, his free hand reaching up to begin kneading one of his inflated pecs.  

“Of course you are,” Jordan laughed, dropping the weights and laying back down on the bench.  He patted his stomach and motioned for Tyler.  “But so am I.  Good timing.”  

The old Tyler tried to stop himself with each plodding step, but all he could do was watch as he swung a leg over and straddled Jordan on the bench.  With his back turned, any relief Tyler felt at pulling his hand free was short lived as he reached down and began kneading the front of his new friend’s shorts, his mouth watering at the girthy package he felt underneath.  His stomach dropped at the thought of how much larger it was compared to his own, but that dread was quickly forgotten when he felt Jordan’s hands sliding down his sides.  “Fuuuuuck yeah,” Tyler grinned as the back of his briefs were tugged down.  He instinctively pushed his plump globes back, shivering when Jordan’s tongue began flitting between them.  

“I still can’t believe you do that.”  Tyler jerked his head towards the unfamiliar voice, a flood of embarrassment washing over him when he saw another athletic young man watching from the doorway.  He knew he should stop what he was doing, but all he could do was flash the same dull grin and continue kneading the prone jock’s twitching bulge.  

“What?” Jordan said, pulling his face free and giving Tyler’s inflated bubble a rough smack.  “It’s like eating a pussy.”  

The chiseled blonde laughed and shook his head.  “He might act like it,” the man said, nodding at Tyler’s whimpering, arched-back position, “but it’s nothing like pussy, bro.  You wanna lick my asshole clean while you’re at it?”  

“Depends?  You gonna act the same when I get you all worked up?”  Tyler knew he was being talked about like he wasn’t there, but all he could focus on was Jordan’s tented shorts.  He’d reached full mast, and all Tyler wanted was to free the rigid club yearning for escape.  Moving on instinct, he pulled the front of the other man’s shorts down, giving a short, grunting laugh when the jock’s thick seven inches sprung free.  Before he even realized he was moving, he’d bent forward and wrapped his lips around it, helpless to do anything other than bob his face even as he screamed at himself to stop.  “See?”  Jordan sighed and folded his sculpted arms behind his head, reclining on the bench as Tyler eagerly went to town on his aching club.  

“Dude, you know he’ll do that for you anyway, right?”  The blonde stud walked over and rubbed between Tyler’s broadened shoulder blades while the newly-christened jock worked his jaw with expert precision.  “Hell, when he wants it you can hardly stop him.  Isn’t that right, bud?”  

“Fuck yeah,” Tyler barked.  He was mortified at his seeming inability to say more than a few words at a time just as much as he was at the pair’s condescending tone.  It was all happening too fast, and even if his thoughts weren’t moving at a glacial pace, his altered body seemed to have a mind of its own.  He wanted to deny it, but even as the blonde stranger said the words, Tyler was hit with a sudden yearning to get the other man’s cock in his mouth.  There was a flash of memory, the image of the blonde hunk’s naked, rigid body racing through his mind, that left the confused new jock practically vibrating with anticipation.  Still bobbing on Jordan’s deliciously thick rod, he reached over and pulled the smug stud’s shorts down, a name finally punching through his lustful haze.  

“What’d I tell ya?” Mark grinned, running his hands over Tyler’s backwards cap when the dazed stud turned his attention away from Jordan.  He pumped his hips as his hardening beast went rigid in the eager man’s mouth, his impressive abs flexing with the motion.  “No ass licking required.”  

The prone jock shrugged.  “Variety is the spice of life, dude,” Jordan said, his hand reaching out to grab Mark’s perky bubble.  He slipped a pair of fingers between the solid globes and pressed them against his friend’s tight hole.  “You shouldn’t be so afraid to try new things.  Shit’ll get boring.”  

Mark went up on his toes and batted Jordan’s hand away.  “No thanks.  Little Ty keeps things interesting enouuuuhhh!”  He gasped and shuddered when Tyler began humming vigorously around his swallowed cock, his tongue working in a frenzy.  “Fuuuck, man.  Warn a dude first.”  

Jordan laughed as Tyler squirmed and writhed on his stomach.  When he’d pulled his hand away from Mark he’d used it on the straddling hunk instead, working a pair of thick fingers into the man’s eager entry.  “It’s like a turbo boost,” Jordan said, causing Tyler to grunt and buck again when he worked his fingers against the other man’s insides.  

Tyler didn’t know how it could get worse.  He was feverishly blowing one man while another fingered his inflated rear, and he could feel himself living up to his nickname as throb after throb pulsed through his shrunken three inches.  He was glad he couldn’t actually see the diminished organ, but he could feel a growing damp spot forming on the front of his tiny briefs.  Instead of trying to cover himself, though, he reached over and began pumping on Jordan’s neglected pole, hating how disappointed he felt when the tanned brunette stopped him.  

“I’ve got a better idea, bud,” Jordan said, grabbing Tyler by his trim waist and guiding him lower on his stomach.  With the kind of ease that only came from constant practice, the altered man popped his hips, impaling himself on Jordan’s cock while never letting Mark’s slip from between his lips.  

The old Tyler tried to hold on, but it was a futile gesture in the face of such overwhelming bliss.  His fear and anxiety were barely afterthoughts as he bounced on Jordan’s life-giving organ, the whole time savoring every musky second with Mark.  When the blonde finally erupted, Tyler wasn’t embarrassed when the other man pulled out and sprayed all over his face and inflated pecs, he simply relished the warm, sticky shower.  Afterwards, his cum-slick muscle tits bouncing as Jordan pumped into him, not even the sight of the damp little tent in his briefs could dull his ecstasy.  “Fuuhh...fuck yeah…” he grunted.  His mouth free to moan and bellow now that there wasn’t a cock in it, Tyler let loose a constant stream of cracking, desperate pleas.  “Fuckin’ give it...to me...bro…” he howled, groping his new muscles with wild abandon.  “That dick feels so big...fuckin’ luuuhhnn….love it, dude.  Big and hard...fuckin’ give it to me harder bro...gonna make my ‘lil bitch clit cum…” 

“Guys.  I thought we talked about this.”  The sudden appearance of two more men watching while he had his brains fucked out, and hearing the degrading words leaving his mouth, gave the old Tyler a fresh foothold of horror.  He was gleefully toying with his nipples and bouncing on another man’s dick, all the while referring to his shrunken cock as a “bitch clit” and begging to be fucked harder.  Despite all that, he only smiled bashfully as he looked at Carson and Aiden, the sight of the towering meatheads making his tiny cock ooze even harder.  Where Jordan and Mark were chiseled and lean, the recent arrivals were twin walls of burly bulk.  Thick and beefy with dark, short-cropped hair and maybe a single neck between the two of them, the pair radiated a casual masculinity that made Tyler’s mouth water.  “Some of us actually want to work out in here.”  

“So...sorry guys…” Jordan panted, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “...we’re almost done.  Aren’t we?”  

Tyler nodded, trying desperately to stop himself as one hand drifted south to push his briefs fully aside.  He began tweaking his tiny nub and fondling his petite new balls while the other three watched, humiliated at the way he heard himself begin to huff and grunt as he neared the edge.  He let out a guttural hiss when he finally erupted, surprising himself with the amount of liquid splashing against his palm.  

“Little thing makes a mess, doesn’t it,” Mark laughed, slapping the shirtless Carson on a beefy bicep as they all watched Tyler’s shrunken cock spurt and spray.  

“A mess he’s going to clean up when we’re done, right?” Carson’s tone was both commanding and condescending.  Tyler started to nod, but he was interrupted when Jordan exploded inside him, eliciting another embarrassing series of deep grunts.  As soon as the prone jock’s cock stopped spraying, Tyler slipped free and scampered over to a small cart covered in cleaning supplies.  He moved at an awkward waddle with his briefs still pulled down around his meaty thighs, and he could feel a waterfall of cum spilling out from between his shifting globes, but it never occurred to him to pull the underwear back up.  He was too focused on cleaning up the mess to do anything else, giving everyone a view of his battered hole as he bent and knelt to wipe up their sticky remnants.  

“What?” Jordan said, his tone defensive as he hopped off the bench and pulled his shorts back up.  “You guys had two wait like three minutes while we finished. It’s not like you haven’t done the same.”  

Aiden nodded, folding his massive arms across his bulging pecs.  “Yeah, but we all agreed not to do this in here in the morning.  We got shit to do.”  

“You know how he gets,” Jordan said, nodding over at Tyler as the shrunken jock finished wiping down the bench.  

“Yeah, but he can’t help it,” Carson added, reaching down to give Tyler’s cap-covered head a tousle.  The kneeling hunk was having a hard time following what seemed like a rapid-fired conversation.  He didn’t like the stern tones, but Carson’s meaty paw on his head made him feel better.  He wanted to reach out and start in on the hulking man’s stout, stubby cock, but he knew better.  “You can.”  

“That’s being generous,” Mark laughed under his breath.  

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, dude,” Aiden said, giving the blonde a shove.  “Where’d all that come from?”  Tyler remembered the layer of dried cum coating his face and plump pecs when everyone turned and looked in his direction.  

“Okay, okay!  We get it.  It won’t happen again,” Mark conceded, looking down at the still-kneeling Tyler.  “Isn’t that right, big guy?”  

“Uh...sure…” Tyler said, without knowing what he was agreeing to or why everyone laughed at his response.  He smiled back, happy to at least see his friends looking less angry.  That smile faltered slightly when Aiden reached down and pulled him to his feet, reminding him of his loss of height.  It was easy to ignore when he’d been straddling Jordan on the bench or kneeling on the floor, but now, instead of standing on the same level, if not slightly above, the tall crowd, Tyler’s new 5’5” stature left him staring the shirtless jocks in their sculpted chests.  He looked up at the crowd and down at his exposed little poker while the guys talked, bringing himself to the cusp of covering up but unable to fully cross that line.  

“Since you two messed him up, you can be the ones to clean him up,” Aiden said, rendering Tyler’s struggle moot.  “And when you’re done, make sure he puts something on.  I’ve got some friends coming over later and they always get weirded out when he’s running around naked.  At least get him in his singlet or something.”  

Jordan nodded and patted Tyler on his sticky chest.  “Hear that, bud?  You can wear your gear.”  

Tyler had a flash of his new body clad in a tight wrestling singlet.  The shiny, stretchy fabric accentuated his ample new rear and powerful chest, but at the same time it left none of his miniscule package to the imagination.  He knew he should have been humiliated at the thought, but Tyler beamed.  “Fuck yeah!  Can we wrestle, bro?”  

“If you’re good,” Aiden answered before anyone else could respond.  “Meaning you get your stuff done and it stays on the entire time people are here.  Got it?”  

Tyler puffed out his sticky muscle tits proudly.  “Totally, bro.  I can do it.”  The old Tyler was shattered at the sound of himself promising to do something as simple as stay dressed, even as he knew it would be a much harder struggle than it should.  

“Come on, stud. Let’s hit the showers.”  Tyler laughed when Jordan gave his still-exposed cheeks a swat and lumbered down the hall behind the other man, briefs still around his widened thighs.  He could hear several other voices in the house and knew the men he’d just met were only a handful of his new friends, but instead of fear the realization only made him more excited.  

In the back of his head he had a faint memory of someone else, and a hazy idea that he’d wanted them to end up in the role he currently filled.  He pushed it aside, not wanting to dwell on the thought for long.  As his head started to clear, at least as much as it ever did, and new memories of the fun he had with the guys started to filter in, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.