Kingsbury Harbor, ch. 22: Fresh Baked (Patreon)

Bruce couldn’t stop smiling.  Everything was finally ready.  The small folding table was filled from edge to edge with his fresh-baked goods, the poster-board sign he’d drawn by hand, listing his very reasonable prices, was hung with care behind him, and he had a full thermos of coffee to get him through the morning.  It was his farmer’s market debut, and the slight, balding little man wasn’t about to mess it up.  He adjusted his thin, wire-rimmed spectacles and moved a bag of cookies that had shifted slightly out of place with the rest.  It didn’t matter how tasty his wares were if they looked so sloppy no one bought them.  Presentation was important, after all.

Not that he was worried about his sales.  For a retired investment banker with no baking or culinary experience to speak of, Bruce was supremely confident.  He had no reason to be otherwise.  The book of recipes he’d found at Bellow’s Antiques made it all seem so simple.  Hearing stories of bakers getting up in the pre-dawn hours to begin slaving away gave Bruce the impression that it was a labor intensive process, yet, following the instructions in his newly acquired book, he’d managed to create his table full of breads, pastries and donuts in a single night.  The ratios and techniques just came naturally to him, the finished goods practically leaping out of the oven.  

Bruce credited his dreams for making the process so smooth.  He’d been having them since Arthur sold him the book, filling his nights with bizarre equations and mathematical formulae like he’d never seen before, even for someone who’d lived in a world of numbers for years.  They were fresh in his mind the entire time he was baking, which is why, he told himself, he kept repeating the strange chants that accompanied them in his dreams.  He’d always seen baking compared to chemistry, but between the candles, the droning chants, and the pungent incense he’d had to hunt down on the internet, alchemy seemed like a more apt descriptor.  Bruce thought it was fitting.  Nothing ever went as people expected in a town like Kingsbury Harbor, and he saw no reason why this should be any different.  

He took a deep breath of the salty morning air and settled onto his stool, checking the cash box one more time to make sure he had enough change.  It wouldn’t be long until people were milling between the tables and the street was filled with the sounds of commerce, but until then, Bruce sipped his coffee and listened to the waves lapping at the boardwalk behind him.  The early-morning sky was already a bright, vibrant blue, with groups of squawking seagulls taking the place of the absent clouds.  

“Going to be a good day,” he said to himself.  

**********

“I brought breakfast,” Omar said, waving the small brown bag in the air as he made his way down the hill towards his friends.  The secluded spot was their favorite, far from any of the town’s main beaches or areas of heavy boat traffic.  It was only accessible by passing through an unremarkable stand of trees off a nondescript residential street, and it was further obscured by the tall grass of the steep hillside.  If you didn’t live in town, you’d never know it was there.  He could see Mitch setting up their fishing poles on the small stretch of sand, the other man’s tall, strapping frame visible once he was halfway down the slope.  The athletic brunette was shirtless as always, showing off his chiseled torso that had been baked into a deep, golden tan.  Just offshore, Trev was floating on his paddle board, his lean body stretched out in the midday sun.

“Good, I’m starving.”  Mitch snatched the bag out of his friend’s hand and raised an eyebrow as he looked at the three large donuts inside.  “Where’d these come from?  They don’t look like Duke’s.”  

Omar shrugged, peeling out of his tank-top.  “Some weaselly looking dude at the farmer’s market,” he said, absently scratching at the line of dark hair snaking up his abs.  The onyx trail thinned out as it spread across his perfectly sculpted pecs, popping against the caramel skin underneath.  “He said it was his first day, but people were going nuts for his stuff.  There was hardly anything left by the time I got there.”   

Mitch sniffed the bag before plucking one of the doughy rings from inside.  “Smells good,” he said, a grin spreading across his boy-next-door face as he took a tentative bite.  “Holy shit!”  The shirtless stud took a bigger bite, nodding emphatically.  “I can see why.  Duke’s got some fuckin’ competition with these,” he mumbled around his mouthful of donut.  

Omar followed his friend’s lead, his sharp features a mask of surprise as he shoved the pastry into his mouth.  Though it was billed as being a plain donut, the flavor was anything but.  Neither of them could describe the shifting tones playing across their tongues, other than to agree that they’d never tasted anything quite like it.  “Yo, Trev!  You’re gonna miss out on these if you don’ hurry up,” he called.    

The wiry blonde sat up and paddled back to shore.  “Miss out on what,” he asked, his thin, toned frame breaking out in a map of definition as he bent and pulled his board up onto the sand.  

“New donut game in town,” Mitch said, reluctantly polishing off the last of his.  “Shit’s fuckin’ good,” he grinned, wiping his hands on the front of his small trunks.  

“Uh-oh…gotta watch that figure, big guy,” Trev laughed, patting his taller friend’s abs.  

Mitch pulled away and gave the lean blonde’s ass a swat.  “Says the dude who needs to eat a sandwich.  Maybe they can finally put some meat on those bones.”  

“I’ve got a bone for you,” Trev muttered around a mouthful of donut, grabbing the outlined bulge in the front of this thin, wet trunks.  

Omar just sighed as he watched his friends.  Physically, the two men were on opposite ends of the spectrum.  At 6’4”, Mitch was tall and tapering, with a broad-shouldered, athletic build.  He was every bit the strapping, New England boy, looking just as good in a thick wool sweater as he did lounging shirtless in the sun.  For his part, Trev wasn’t short at an average 5’10”, but his shredded, pale frame, and sharp, angular features looked small and pointy next to the towering brunette.  Omar straddled the difference, standing an even six-feet with a muscled build that, while not as big as Mitch, wasn’t as thin as Trev.  His most distinguishing features were his darker skin, and his thick head of raven hair that spilled down to coat the rest of him in a light dusting.  The trio originally knew each other from around town, but hadn’t become friends until they all ended up at the same college in Boston.  They’d bonded over their Kingsbury roots, and while none of them had expected to return to the town in the few years since graduating, it had a way of pulling people back regardless of their plans.  

“Do I need to give you two some alone time,” Omar asked, rolling his eyes.  

“What?  You know we like it when you watch,” Mitch laughed, throwing an arm around Trev’s bony shoulders.  “Isn’t that right, babe?”  The thin blonde called his friend’s bluff as he reached over and squeezed Mitch’s fat package through the front of his small trunks, eliciting a quick yelp and a flood of crimson up his friend’s face.  “Dude!  Come on,” the brunette hunk grumbled, quickly stepping away.  

Trev grinned, putting a hand next to his mouth as he leaned over to Omar.  “He gets performance anxiety,” he said, whispering loud enough for Mitch to hear.

“Fuck you both,” the blushing man laughed, giving his friends the finger.  “Can we just enjoy the…whoa…” Mitch trailed off, suddenly swaying on his feet.  He blinked and shook his head, watching the same stunned expression form on the faces of his friends.  “Does…anyone else feel weird?”  

Omar nodded, stumbling.  “Goddamn I’m dizzy all of a sudden…”

“Me…me too…” Trev stammered, running a hand through his short blonde hair.  “What the fuck was in those donuts?”  

“What do you mean?  They were just donuts!”  Omar said, tossing up his hands.  

“Were they bad,” Mitch asked, his tanned skin going pale.  

The dark-skinned jock shook his head.  “How does a donut go bad?  They weren’t stale or moldy or anything.”  

“You said it was his first day, right?  Maybe the dude didn’t know what he was doing?”  Mitch wrapped his muscled arms around himself, shivering.  “Fuck this feels weird…like something’s crawling around under my skin…”

Trev nodded.  “I don’t feel like I’m going to barf…it’s like…like…I don’t know what it’s like, but I don’t like it,” he said, his voice quivering.  “They had a weird flavor…maybe we’re allergic to something in ‘em?”  

“Maybe it’ll pass?  Let’s just see if…ifffffffff…” Mitch broke off in a hissing gasp, his eyes going wide as the crawling skin blossomed into a bone-rattling vibration that shook him to his core.  His vision blurred and the world spun around him, leaving him dazed and disoriented.  There was a sudden rush of air on his lower half, as if his trunks were gone, and the addled jock wondered if he’d lost them in a fall when he felt the warm sand against his palms.  All he could do was gasp and stare, fighting to stay conscious until the topsy-turvy sensation passed.  

When it finally did, Mitch wasn’t sure if he’d won the battle to stay awake as a nightmare would be the only explanation for what he saw.  He had indeed lost his trunks, and his palms were on the warm sand, but he hadn’t fallen over at all.  As impossible as it was, his long, muscled legs had somehow shrunk, leaving his trunks in a pool at his tiny new feet.  The once-powerful limbs were a third of their normal length, leaving his unchanged upper-body vastly out of proportion with his diminished lower half.  Mitch’s stomach turned as he looked at the long, thick cock and heavy balls hanging to his shrunken knees, his already impressive package now seeming freakishly large.  Instead of a towering hunk, he was built more like an ape, even forced to knuckle walk as his long, muscled arms hung to the ground.  

“Gu…guys…what just…” Mitch stuttered, his voice drying in his throat when he looked up.  It wasn’t just the shock of viewing the world from his new four-foot height that made him go quiet, but the sight of the warped strangers where his friends should have been.  

While the once-tall brunette had been shrinking, Omar had been growing.  Or at least parts of him had.  Moments after watching Mitch shoot towards the ground, the dark-haired man didn’t have a chance to wrap his head around the sight before a spasm tore through his stomach.  He grabbed it, trying in vain to hold it back as his formerly ripped abs began ballooning outwards.  Like Mitch, he lost his trunks as the impossible growth shredded them off his body, his toned thighs and perky rear inflating along with his midsection.  Omar wanted to scream when he felt his muscled quads begin to press together, and the heavy, shaking weight at his lower back that was serving as a counterbalance to the expanding beachball sprouting from his stomach.  The massive gut seemed to defy gravity as it stood out instead of sagging, serving as a shelf for Omar’s unchanged pecs and shoulders to rest on.  As far as he could tell the rest of his body was the same, though he could no longer actually see his cock to confirm that.  

Since he’d been the last to eat, Trev had just enough time to realize what was about to happen before his own growth spurt kicked in.  Completing the circuit started by Mitch’s legs and continued with Omar’s midsection, Trev’s upper body exploded.  The lean blonde grunted as an invisible pump connected with his chest, inflating his pecs from flat and defined to plump and pillowy.  The muscled mounds became so massive that Trev couldn’t see over them without leaning forward, the growth spreading up to swallow his shoulders before spilling back down his arms.  The blonde’s long neck disappeared inch-by-inch as his bony shoulders became thick cannonballs and the arms hanging off them grew nearly as wide as his trim waist.  The rest of his wiry body remained as it always had been, leaving the top-heavy man looking like a caricature as his angular face seemed to rest directly on his impossible pecs.  

“FUCK!  WHAT THE FUCK?!” Omar cried, wincing as his chunky thighs and meaty rear shook from his frantic stumbling.  His hands hovered inches from the furry exercise ball that had been strapped to his midsection as he gawked at his altered friends.  

“Did..did that just happen…” Trev stammered, looking down as much as he could before his chin was halted by his chest.  

“How could it?  Look at us!  We’re freaks!  This..this can’t be real…”  Mitch was dizzy from looking rapidly back and forth between himself and his altered friends.  He blamed his panic for the strange way his swaying cock throbbed at the sight of Omar’s new gut and Trev’s new muscle tits.  

“Sure feels rea…real…” Omar said, gasping when he finally connected with his surprisingly firm belly.  A bolt of pleasure shot straight to his cock, the unexpected sensation making his eyes go wide.  He shook his head as another wave of dizziness crashed into him, feeling like a part of himself was being washed away.  

“But…but we can’t be stuck like…like…” Trev groaned when he reached up and squeezed his pecs, his hands instinctively shooting to the huge new nipples.  He was horrified at the way his oversized arms limited his range of motion, but his attention was quickly focused on the way his muscled mountains made his cock throb.  

“Like what?” Mitch asked, blinking up at the other two.  The simian jock looked down at his rigid club, forgetting what he’d just been so worked up about.  “Wouldn’t be the first time we came back from the beach naked.”  He reached out with an overly long arm and rubbed Omar’s gut, smiling at the shudder that ran through his friend.  

“MMMMMmmmm…” Omar moaned, adding his own hands to his stroking friend’s.  He felt like they were forgetting something important, like something was wrong, but all he could focus on was the little brunette’s handsome face and massive cock.  The fact that he couldn’t see his cock struck him as odd, though the thought passed as soon as he reached down and felt the aching organ nestled between his ample thighs.  

“Right?  Like anyone in this town cares,” Trev said, stumbling slightly from his heavy new upper half as he casually dropped his trunks.  His thick, piston arm flexed as he reached down and stroked his lengthy member, grinning at his friends.  “Now are we just going to stand here staring at each other, or…”

Mitch only felt the slightest stab of humiliation as he nimbly knuckle-walked over to Trev, his thick cock wagging wildly from the motion as he bowled the top-heavy man over.  There was a dull thud as the blonde landed on the sand, with Mitch quickly hopping on top. The shrunken jock’s stubby legs straddled Trev’s tight waist while his solid little bubble rested on the prone blonde’s stomach, his cock aimed straight at his friend’s heaping pecs.  Without waiting for Trev to recover, Mitch grabbed the plump mounds and rolled his hips, sliding his cock between them.  

“HHHHOOHHHHUUUHHH!”  Trev howled, his massive arms going tense as his fingers dug helplessly into the sand.  His face was a mask of ecstasy while Mitch tit-fucked him and he gazed up at Omar with a pleading look.  “Ge…get in on this, dude,” he managed to stammer.  

Omar was momentarily surprised that he knew exactly what Trev was getting at, but the feeling passed as he dropped to his knees.  He felt his inflated backside squish as he knelt and hefted his friend’s toned legs against his gut with Mitch wedged between them.  If Omar felt any fear or hesitation at the fact that he was about to jam his cock into Trev’s tight little bubble, it was vastly overwhelmed by the bliss he felt at having both his friend’s legs and Mitch’s broad back rubbing against his sensitive belly.  The joy his gut brought him was so strong that the blonde’s dextrous hole around his cock was almost an afterthought as he squirmed and writhed his furry balloon into his friends.  Instead of being awkward, the trio fit together like a puzzle, with Mitch’s cock eagerly working the deep valley of Trev’s chest while Omar brought up the rear.  The dark-skinned hunk wrapped his arms around the short brunette, holding him tight against himself while they synched their rolling hips.  

There were still things that didn’t make sense, like why Mitch and Omar had such ill-fitting swimwear to begin with, and why they all felt a lingering unease, but they could sort that out later.  It had been a gorgeous morning, and they’d come to their favorite spot to fool around and get some sun.  So far, they hadn’t been disappointed by either.  

If things kept going the way they were, it was going to be a good day.