The Forge (vignette) (Patreon)

“When I heard about this place I kinda thought it was a gym.  ‘The Forge’ would make a great lifter’s spot, you know?”  Kyle gave a short, nervous laugh as he looked around the dingy foundry.  It was cluttered with tongs, hammers, buckets, anvils, and tools of all kinds, while a layer of fine grey silt seemed to coat every surface, hanging in the air like a charcoal mist.  The heat was oppressive, and beads of sweat were already forming at the auburn ridge of his scalp.  “I mean...how else are you going to change someone’s body, right?”

The brawny, balding beast of a man folded his massive arms across the front of his leather apron.  The hairy pistons were bigger than Kyle’s thighs and were covered in a thick, curly layer the same color as the metallic haze that filled the room.  The dense carpet thinned at his bare, cannonball shoulders before tufting out again above the weathered apron that served the dual purpose of accentuating the man’s meaty shelf of a chest.  There was barely any neck to speak of, making it look as though the rugged, full-featured face sat directly on the hairy shelf.  “That’s what you’re here to find out, isn’t it?”  The man’s voice was a deep rumble, adding to his imposing presence.  He was only six-foot at most, no more than a pair of inches taller than Kyle, yet he seemed to tower over the thinner man.

“What I read online...it’s not...it’s not real, is it?  You can’t just…”

“Are you here for yourself or someone else,” the man asked, interrupting.  “I’m not gonna stand here and try to fuckin’ convince you.  Don’t want to believe it?  Fine, there’s the door.  Otherwise let’s cut the shit.”

Kyle felt his face go red but he kept his mouth shut, though every ounce of the smug hunk’s being wanted to lash out at the hairy brute.  He was hot, hung and humongously wealthy, used to getting his way and calling the shots without opposition.  Who did this troll of a man think he was to talk to him like that?  Yet Kyle bit his tongue.  If it was all true, and despite his better judgment he actually believed it was, he needed to play along.  This man, who’d only introduced himself as the Forge Master, provided a service that literally no one else could.  He claimed to be able to change the makeup of who and what people were.  Not just their bodies, but their inner workings as well.  If you wanted to be young and shredded like Kyle, the Forge could work its magic and make it happen.  Or, if you wanted someone else to be the opposite, or to fall in love with you, or to change their personality, he could make that happen, too.  Of course it was all outrageously expensive, but for a trust-funded, “bought his way out of trouble and into a cushy corporate job” jock like Kyle, money wasn’t a concern.  And he could always try and negotiate the other cost involved.   “Someone else,” Kyle said, keeping both his tone and expression flat.  “I was hoping to...”

“I don’t give a fuck what you hoped,” the Forge Master barked.  “Not until you agree to the terms.  You did your reading so I’m assuming you’re good for it.  If you want me to make something for someone else it’s $100k, up front, and you submit to the Forge.  Magic can’t go into an object unless the excess has somewhere to go.  There’s too much of it.  I can shape what goes into the object, but I can’t do that for you or into something else at the same time.  So the bit that comes your way is wild.  No promises and no guarantees.  Whatever she wants,” he said, nodding back at the glowing forge without breaking eye contact.  “No bargains or discounts, either.  And before you open that pretty mouth to argue, I don’t make the rules and I don’t need some rich asshole wasting my time, so it’s either a hard yes or a hard no.  If it’s the second, kindly see yourself out.”

Kyle bristled at the word “submit,” silently vowing to show the bulky man the meaning of the word once he had what he needed.  “Done,” he said, his voice dripping with faux cheerfulness as he pulled out his phone and transferred the money.

“Hmph,” the Forge Master grunted, the phone looking both small and somehow out of place in his giant hand while he confirmed the transaction had gone through.  “Deal’s a deal.  Follow me.”  Despite his annoyance, Kyle couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer size of the man’s broad, furry upper back as they made their way to the back of the foundry.  The Forge Master’s sleeveless shirt strained around his beefy torso, the tied cords of the apron drawing attention to the plump, ample globes and pillar-like thighs that threatened to burst out of his stained denim below.  As someone who spent a considerable amount of time in gyms, Kyle knew the kind of effort it took to acquire such unrefined bulk.  He’d never been interested in it himself, preferring instead a vain, shredded body built more for show in a boardroom than any practical physical effort.  The auburn-haired hunk was expertly manscaped and moisturized, his athletic build perfectly displayed in his straining polo and fitted chinos.

“Whoa…” Kyle gasped when they stepped behind a divider and he saw the anvil.  He’d expected something squat and grey and unremarkable, not an intricately carved slab of gleaming gold.  The top was flat, but the sides were covered by interwoven glyphs that stretched down to the ground before spiderwebbing across the floor to the perimeter of the surrounding circle.  Leaning against it was a large hammer of the same gold, as unblemished as the anvil itself, and unlike the rest of the foundry the area was spotless, despite the same haze hovering above it all.

“Ain’t seen nothing yet,” the Forge Master grinned, reaching around to untie his apron.  “Now take your clothes off.”

Kyle laughed, sure he’d misheard.  “Uh...what?”

The hairy hulk tossed his apron onto a nearby table.  “Argue again and we’re done.  You don’t enter the circle with anything on.  We’re not actually working with fire on this one.  But don’t expect me to explain every step of the process...just do as you’re told.”  The Forge Master stripped out of his shirt, giving Kyle an unobstructed view of his lumpy muscle gut while he kicked off his boots and began undoing his jeans.  “You’re not here for a peepshow, kid,” he grumbled, shucking the tight denim to reveal a stout, girthy log and low, full balls between his massive thighs.

Kyle had no choice but to follow along.  He delicately stepped out of his boat shoes, using the nearby table for support as he raised each leg to pull his socks off before reluctantly undoing his chinos.  He was confusingly self conscious once they were free, feeling like he was back in his high school football days staring up at his coach in the locker room instead of the usual rush of pride that the sight of his stuffed briefs brought him.  He ignored it and flexed his washboard instinctively while he pulled the polo free, saving the bright red underwear for last.  He wondered for a moment if this was all just an elaborate fetish for the other man as his long, thick cock swung free, but the sight of the awe-inspiring anvil only furthered his earlier suspicions that this was all somehow real.

Kyle refused to give in and cover himself as the man slowly looked him up and down, opting instead to do the same.  The Forge Master’s smile only grew in response.  He stepped into the circle and picked up the hammer before motioning at Kyle to enter.  “Put your hand on it,” he said, nodding to the anvil.  Kyle started to protest but snapped his mouth shut at the glare in the older man’s eyes.  He swallowed hard and rested his palm against the surprisingly cool metal, bracing himself.  “Relax.  I’m not going to hit your damn hand with it,” the Forge Master said, bringing the hammer down against the other end of the anvil.  The loud clang quickly settled into a resonant tone, reverberating around the room like the note from a singing bowl.

Kyle’s eyes widened as the vibrations centered under his palm before shooting up his arm.  “Fuck!” he yelped, jerking his hand away.  He shook it, but the tingling remained, gradually flowing up to his shoulder and cascading over the rest of his naked frame.  He gasped when it reached the base of his skull, a wave of dizziness distracting him from the fact that his fat log had rocketed to attention.  Even when he noticed, it didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should.  He felt pleasantly buzzed, like he’d downed an edible after getting laid.  “That’s...wow.  What just happened,” he finally asked once he could find his voice again.

“The anvil accepts your submission,” the older man said, his own thick club just as hard.  “You’re now in tune with her frequency.  Feels good, yeah?”  He sighed, his gruff exterior cracking as he basked in the pleasant vibrations.  “So, now that we’re all squared away, what brings you here?”

Kyle shook his head and blinked, finding it difficult to focus.  “My boss.  He needs to go.  Guy rides me constantly over everything.  He makes it his mission to embarrass me in every meeting, and he hasn’t called me anything other than ‘dumb kid’ since I started.  I’m twenty-eight for fuck’s sake and already a director.  He’s in his fifties and only a VP.  Who’s the dumb one?”  Kyle didn’t see the need to divulge any further details.  The Forge Master didn’t need to know just how many people he’d screwed over and stepped on to get to his current role, nor did he need to know exactly why his boss rode him so hard.  The point of being a director was to have people beneath you who could do all the work, just like the old man tried to pass off everything to him.  His boss wasn’t any better of a person than he was, the only difference was that Kyle still wanted to play the game.

The Forge Master didn’t ask for any additional details.  They didn’t matter, as far as he was concerned.  “And you want me to do what, exactly?”

“Fat fuck’s always talking about how he was just like me in his prime,  so I say let him put his money where his mouth is.  Knock him back down to twenty one or twenty two and give him the kind of body he claimed to have, but if I’m such a ‘dumb kid’ he can be that, too.  Let him work with the facilities crew instead of being a VP.  See how much he likes listening to me for a change.”

“That last part...you want it to be a bit more than work, don’t you?  Now’s the time to be specific,” the naked hulk said, his eyes fixed on Kyle’s.

The younger man’s expression became bashful as he spoke.  “I mean...a little infatuation couldn’t hurt.  Be a nice bonus if he was after something he couldn’t have in more ways than one.  If he does a good job maybe I’ll let him blow me,” Kyle laughed, his cock twitching at the thought of his boss being swapped out for a young, dumb, cock-hungry hunk.  The naked brunette identified as straight, but it wouldn’t be his former boss’s impressive new looks that would be getting him off in that situation.

The Forge Master nodded.  “I think that’s enough to make this work.  I don’t know what shape the ore will take, but once we’re finished all you’ll have to do is get it to him.  Once he touches it the energies will take over.”  He motioned for Kyle to step around opposite himself on the other side of the anvil, positioning the smug pretty-boy within the circle a few feet away from the gleaming idol.  He pulled out a piece of dull, ocher ore from a nearby basket and placed the jagged rock in the center of the anvil before continuing.  “Once it starts for you, things are going to get real intense real quick, so just remember to keep breathing.”

The Forge Master didn’t wait for a response.  Kyle gasped when the older man struck the anvil and he watched the rock liquefy.  The formerly solid object settled, mercury-like, it’s metallic surface rippling with each of the hammer’s ringing impacts.  Like before, the tone wasn’t harsh or jarring but smooth and resonant, increasing the tingling vibrations within his own muscled frame.  Gradually the puddle in the center of the anvil began to take shape, forming a circle that was hollow in the middle, but Kyle didn’t get a chance to witness the rest of the process.  As the vibrations grew inside him, his body seemed to magnetically attract the gray particles floating around them, and within moments the panicked stud found himself trapped within an iron cocoon.

Kyle’s vision went black, his chiseled chest heaving as he struggled for breath.  He could still hear the hammering impacts, but they sounded far off and getting farther with each one.  It was as if he was being pulled away somewhere, and whether it was due to the shock or because he’d passed out, Kyle began to notice movement returning to his limbs.  The sensation of being entombed had vanished, leaving him floating in a vast abyss.  The darkness was so pervasive that he couldn’t even tell if his eyes were open or closed until a gradual iridescence began to form at the edges of his vision.  It spread inward, eventually replacing the void with a shimmering borealis that started to take on distinct shapes.

Like watching a cyclopean screen that filled the entire sky, Kyle saw his fantasy unfold.  He watched Frank slip a ring on his finger, the old man’s jaw dropping when his body began to ripple and change.  Grey hair went jet black, wrinkles faded, muscles swelled, and the stricken expression gradually turned into a dull grin.  A sudden flash washed out the scene, and when it returned Kyle found himself staring at the new Frank.  He couldn’t have yet been out of his early twenties, but the features were still recognizable as those of his former boss, only if they’d been carved out of granite.  As promised, the raven-haired hunk’s sculpted torso strained against a company polo, his meaty arms stretching the sleeves while his meaty cheeks stretched the seat of his pants.  Pecs and thighs bulged as he pushed his cleaning cart down the hall, flashing a bright, cheerful smile to everyone he passed.  Kyle was thrilled.  Seeing it all firsthand was better than he ever could have dreamed.  The bright smile seemed permanently affixed to Frank’s handsome new face as he scurried around the building, his dull laugh a far cry from the old man’s formerly commanding tone.

It wasn’t until the scene shifted again that Kyle began to worry.  There was another flash, followed by the sight of a naked body from behind standing in what appeared to be a small, ratty living room.  Though it was hard to tell from his current point of view, the person seemed just as built as Frank, and appeared to be about the same age.  Their arms were shredded pile-drivers, their broad upper back and shoulders tapering down to a pinched waist before exploding out again at a set of plump, ample globes and thick thighs.  Kyle didn’t know what he was witnessing at first as he watched the figure squirm, their arm flexing rapidly, but he eventually recognized it as the person jerking off in front of a camera.  On the small tablet next to the pumping stud Kyle recognized the frame on screen as that of a cam site, a wave of embarrassment washing over him at the realization.

It was replaced by another sensation before he could process where it had come from, that of sheer eagerness.  He couldn’t wait for Frank to get home.  He’d gotten bored and logged in early to give people a pre-show, but the real action would happen as soon as the other man got back from the office.  Kyle knew Frank didn’t actually work in one, but he liked to say it because it sounded more impressive.  And it was still more than he could manage.  With his own goldfish brain the best he could do was lift heavy things at the gym, and even that was a challenge.  The other guys joked that the reason he’d gotten as big as he had was because he always lost count and started over, but Kyle didn’t mind.  They weren’t wrong.  They also weren’t being mean; they just liked giving the hunky himbo a hard time because he was so easy going.  If he did get upset, all they had to do was let him blow them in the showers and everything was back to being square.  It was the same with Frank.  The dark-haired stallion was the one who called the shots in their relationship, but all Kyle had to do was bat his eyes or pout and he could get the other man to do whatever he said.

Kyle wanted to groan when he watched the door open and saw Frank walk in.  Despite the similar, strapping physiques he’d already known it wasn’t the other man based on the short auburn hair, but he’d been holding out hope.  As he watched the muscled pair go at it, the naked brunette stripping Frank down before dropping to his knees and swallowing the grinning stud’s wide cock, Kyle desperately tried to deny what was coming.  He closed his eyes but the images penetrated through the lids, making the sight of his own youthful features inescapable when the man on screen finally turned around.  It wasn’t as jarring a transition as Frank’s descent through the ages had been, but Kyle still gasped at the sight of his smoother skin and slightly wider jaw.  He looked like a middle-weight bodybuilder, a hunky meathead with more muscle than brains and ass to spare.  That last detail quickly became relevant as Kyle watched his dull grin fall into an open mouthed, ecstatic groan when Frank plunged into him, his inflated pecs bouncing like jackhammers from the other man’s frantic thrusting.  He didn’t know how much they’d make off the video, Frank was in charge of that stuff, but it should be enough for them to go dancing later.  After all, they just needed to pay the cover.  Once they were inside they never had to pay for drinks.  Not with money, anyway.

Kyle watched the frenzy build until the scene was split by a jagged, lightning bolt crack.  He winced at the sudden brightness when the cocoon fell away, blinking rapidly until his eyes cleared.  “What...what the fuck?!  This...this can’t be...I’m not...I’m…” he stammered, staring down at the body of a youthful Adonis.  “...uh...where am I,” he asked, grinning bashfully when he looked up at the naked wall of hairy muscle in front of him.  He didn’t know why he felt like he should be embarrassed by his open staring, or the way he licked his lips while eyeing the burly man’s rigid club.  “Hey there,” he said, flexing absently and batting his eyes.

“Looks like there was some spillover,” the man said, holding out his meaty paw to reveal a sparkling gold ring.  “You remember, right,” he asked, his eyes pulling Kyle’s up from his hairy loins.

“I...oh god...I do!  I can’t be stuck like...I’m not...those aren’t mine,” Kyle insisted, his voice never losing its chipper edge as he looked over at the small pile of bright clothes where his polo and chinos should have been.  Instead of standard red briefs he saw a pair of floral bikinis, along with a pair of grey nylon shorts not much larger than his former underwear, and a neon-yellow crop-top tank.  His boat shoes and socks had similarly vanished, replaced by bright sneakers and white crew socks with rainbow bands at the top.

The Forge Master gave a grunting laugh.  “They look like mine?”

“But...but I...I feel like I’m forgetting something important.  What was I doing…?” Kyle asked, shaking his head.

“You were going to give this present to Frank,” the hairy hulk said, placing the ring in Kyle’s palm and closing the younger man’s hand around it.  “He’s waiting for you.”

“Oh!  Yeah, duh,” Kyle laughed.  There was a confused glint in his eyes, but that wouldn’t be going anywhere.  “This is so pretty!” he cheered, inspecting the ring for a moment before slipping back into his altered clothes.  The tiny shorts sported an obvious tent, but he didn’t seem to notice as he tied his shoes.  “Do I owe you a tip or anything,” he asked, once again dropping his eyes to the Forge Master’s thick organ.

The older man shook his head.  “It was built into the price.”  He smiled when it became apparent that Kyle didn’t understand what that meant.  “Just get outta here already,” he said, his tone becoming friendly for the first time since the other man’s arrival.  “Frank can’t wait to see you!”