Summoning, ch. 2 (vignette) (Patreon)

*** I've been wanting to revisit this world forever, and now seemed like a good time. If you're unfamiliar with the original story, you can find part 1 here, and part 2 here. ***

“Come on, man.  I know you’re still pissed, and you have every right to be, but you said this was only going to last a couple days, not a couple weeks,” Pete whined.  He sighed as he looked at his warped reflection in the mirror, and at the heavy, supple mounds hanging off his chest.  He hated how natural the sensation of lugging around the oversized tits had become, and he was worried at the way he flaunted them without a second thought.  He hadn’t enjoyed the perpetual embarrassment of the first few days in his current state, but at least it had been a reminder that something was wrong.  Now, he had to consciously fight to remember that he shouldn’t be prancing around the beach in a skimpy bikini with his hefty cock and perky rear just as exposed.

“What can I say, I liked it more than I thought,” Tom grinned, looking every bit the masculine meathead that he was.  His broad, freckled shoulders and plump pecs maintained their regular, firmly muscled proportions, drawing a sharp contrast to Pete’s curvy additions as they both strutted topless around the apartment.  “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you bounce around the beach like that.  Neither will the other guys.”

Pete’s fat cock twitched in his tailored panties as he thought about everything he’d done, and had done to him, over the preceding weeks.  He’d been tit-fucked and actually fucked by just about all of the guys in their social group that he used to lord his looks over, and he’d loved every second of it.  “I mean…yeah, okay, that part’s not so bad,” he said, blushing at how much he’d come to enjoy the sensation of a hot load blasting him in the face.  “But these things are getting annoying.  I never realized what a pain in the ass it was to haul them around all the time.”

Tom walked over and gave the heaping mounds a gentle squeeze, eliciting one of the sharp gasps he so enjoyed.  “At least they’re the devil you know.”

Pete raised an eyebrow, his hardening cock already slipping from the tiny panties.  “Wait…what does that mean?”

“You don’t think I haven’t wanted to make some changes?  Believe me, I have,” Tom said, shaking his head and looking away.  “Because of this deal you forced me into, it’s ALL I want to do.  Fuck, man, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you in all kinds of…” he trailed off and took a deep breath, his broad shoulders slumping.  “Call me crazy, but I don’t trust that this process is going to be quite as easy as that…thing…promised.”

“Oh.  Well, fuck.”  A fresh wave of guilt washed over the handsome brunette as he looked at Tom’s pained expression.  He hadn’t stopped to consider that the other man might actually have been holding back to spare him, not further punish him.  “I appreciate that, but we’re still going to have to find out at some point, right?  Look, man…whatever happens, however this turns out, it’s not like I’m going to blame you.  I’m well aware that I’m the one who got myself into this mess.  So if you’re worried about how I’ll end up, that’s on me, not you.”

Tom grinned, giving Pete’s altered chest another squeeze.  “You say that now.  We’ll see how you feel afterwards.”

“Sounds like you…have something in…mind…” Pete gasped, his lightning rod cock already oozing.

“So, so many things,” Tom nodded.  “But let me ask…where would YOU have started?  If this worked…if our roles were reversed…what would I look like right now?”

Pete blushed, his impulse to lie still there even though he couldn’t follow through on it.  Instead, he knew he was about to divulge everything in explicit detail.  “A big, dumb jock.  Hung like a horse and half as smart,” he said, wishing he could stop himself.  “Muscles everywhere…more of them, anyway…and no impulse control.  Just a hot, horny idiot.”

“Wooowwww,” Tom chuckled, shaking his head again.  “You really are something.”

“I know, I know,” Pete stammered.  “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Hearing that does make the guilt go away, so at least there’s that,” the brawny ginger said, his eyes narrowing.  “Seems like a good place to start, too.”

Tom didn’t know what he was doing; he had an image in his mind and that was all.  It was more fully formed and detailed than his practical brain could usually come up with on its own, so intricate that it was as if he was looking at a photo.  He could clearly see how he wanted Pete to end up, and as he focused on the thought, as he cracked open the mental door, he felt the energy start to flow.

The ease caught him by surprise.  Despite how much he’d been wanting to, the meaty redhead thought he’d have to force it, or try to will something into existence, but all he really had to do was get out of the way.  The power wanted to be used.  It wanted to shape and mold and torment.  And as he watched his friend start to change, Tom knew Pete had been right.  This wasn’t his doing at all.  With the strange force flowing out of him, the stocky ginger felt more like a passenger than the one behind the wheel.  He just hoped he’d be able to turn the flow back off.

Pete didn’t know about any of his friend’s internal struggles.  All he knew was that his oversized tits had finally started to recede.  He felt a wave of relief wash over him as the fleshy mounds settled back into their original shape as a set of modest pecs, a relief that was all too brief when he felt his backside begin to expand.  He wasn’t surprised.  Even before all this he knew his friend was a devoted ass man, making his swelling pillows an inevitability.  And though its overall size would end up being far too large for his lean frame, Pete consoled himself with the thought that at least a fat ass was normal for a man, unlike his formerly warped chest.

When he felt his cock begin to swell, Pete thought it might not be so bad after all.  His whole body seemed to be expanding, which would make the oversized cakes at least a bit more proportional, and he certainly wasn’t going to complain about having a prize showpiece.  The tingling he started to feel in his skull was troublesome, but, looking down at his sculpted, strapping new body, Pete was content to be more body than brains for a while.

“Ohhhhhh fuck, bro!  Look at me!  I’m fuckin’ jacked,” the brunette cheered with a drunken laugh.  He broke into a double bicep pose and flashed his now-dull smile as Tom nodded approvingly at him, the other man’s cock twitching noticeably in the front of his mesh shorts.  “No more panties for me, bud,” he grunted, giving his thickened cock a quick tug.  The already impressive organ had stretched just beyond the ten inch mark, with enough girth to make closing a hand around it difficult.  Pete continued to stroke as he turned in a slow circle, flexing and bouncing his inflated cheeks in the ginger’s direction.  “Good as you wanted?”

“Oh, even better,” Tom said, biting his lower lip as he watched Pete flex and pose and tug away at himself.  What his friend didn’t know, what he wouldn’t know until Tom decided to let him, was that, while he saw himself inflate into a meathead jock, he’d actually gone in the opposite direction.  His ass really had inflated into a set of plump, oversized pumpkins, and his cock actually had become as unwieldy as it seemed, but the rest of Pete’s athletic frame had slightly diminished.  The overall reduction wasn’t drastic, the brunette was still lean and defined, but the prominent, granite pecs and powerful arms that the brunette saw were in reality a set of modest mounds and thin, toned limbs.  The lithe appendages went firm when Pete posed, but they failed to inflate the way the shrunken man saw and felt.  His friend hadn’t become a hulking jock, he’d become a fat-assed, horse-hung twunk, with the only shared trait between the perception and reality being his now-limited faculties.

“You’re missin’ out on this one, bud,” Pete laughed, continuing to pose and flex the body he saw as shredded.  “You could’a been this hot.”

“I think you wear it better,” Tom said, reaching out to give one of the brunette’s plump melon’s a squeeze.  The energies he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back for the past few weeks had subsided, but already he could feel the desire starting to build.  He worried that it would be like a drug, that the more he used it the more he’d crave the sensation, and he especially worried over the fact that he couldn’t tell whether that desire came from the demon that had done this to them or from himself.

Pete didn’t seem worried at all as he pressed back against Tom’s hand.  “Fuck, bud, I can’t wait to get you inside this thing,” he said, cocking his head to the side like a confused dog as he continued to stroke himself.  “Think you could take mine?  How big is it?”

“Want me to get a measuring tape,” Tom asked, adding a calloused hand of his own to the other man’s thickened log.

“Nah,” Pete said, shaking his head.  “I don’t…oh…whoa,” he gasped, his eyes going wide before his dull, amused expression returned.  “Fuck!  I don’t, like, know shit anymore!”

Tom’s free hand slid up his friend’s slender spine to rest on a thin shoulder.  He wondered how it felt on Pete’s end to be held in his larger embrace, and whether or not the other man’s brain even picked up on the incongruent sensory input.  “Shit like what,” he asked, grinning as he felt Pete try to flex his imaginary slab of a chest against his hand.

“I dunno, like, letters’n numbers’n shit,” the brunette shrugged.  His expression went worried for a moment, but it passed in the blink of an eye, as if unable to find purchase in the constantly shifting haze of the other man’s dizzy mind.

Tom guided the other man’s arm back into a flexed pose, running his hand along the toned little bicep that Pete saw as massive.  “You said you wanted to be a dumb jock.”

“Nah…said I wanted YOU to be a dumb jock,” the smaller man said, turning and wrapping his arms around the muscled redhead.  “So crazy that I’m bigger’n you now.”

“Sure is,” Tom laughed, grinding his tented shorts against the other man’s club of a cock.  He reached down latch onto Pete’s thick cheeks, nearly cumming from his friend’s smug expression.  The thought that the brunette was about to strut around like an Adonis while the rest of the world saw a cute twink with a bouncing bubble was almost more than he could handle.

“And I still have bigger tits,” Pete roared, letting out a loud laugh as he flexed his little pecs again.  “Can’t wait for the guys to see me now.”

Tom clapped his friend’s cakes together and sighed.  “Me neither,” he said, already eager to see how things would play out.  He’d intended to make it so that everyone would play along, continuing the condescending charade to Pete’s face while freely discussing the reality with everyone else.  And he was especially eager to see how his friend looked in the new wardrobe.  Panties, bikinis, and the rest of the feminine articles had been swapped out for jockstraps, gym shorts and muscle shirts, all of which would perfectly accentuate Pete’s new proportions.  But unlike the straining mesh and draping muscle shirts that the brunette saw, the rest of the world would see tiny cutoffs and cropped tank-tops.  Both would see the same overflowing jockstraps, but Pete would be oblivious to the reality of his heaping cakes hanging mostly exposed, or just how much his fat bulge was on display, whenever he wore the skimpy bottoms.

“Hey!  I got an idea!”  Pete cried, abruptly turning away.  He slipped a hand into the front of Tom’s shorts and grabbed the waist, in his mind easily pulling his friend along when in reality the other man stumbled obediently behind.

The amused ginger let Pete strip him bare when they reached the small table in their kitchen.  “Are you going to tell me what it is,” he finally asked after a few moments of his friend’s silent blinking.

“Oh!  Right!” Pete said, shaking his head and laughing.  “Fuck, bro.  I can’t think for shit, can I?  What were we…oh!  Yeah!  Let’s arm wrestle!”

Tom let Pete shove him into a chair, his stout cock throbbing as he watched the other man flex an arm into position.  “I don’t know…doesn’t really seem fair,” he said, folding his arms across his freckled chest.

“Aw, don’t be scared little boy,” Pete cooed.  “I’ll go easy on ya.  Loser has to blow the winner.”

Tom leaned forward and put his arm on the table, the burly bicep as large as both of Pete’s shrunken limbs combined, though the brunette failed to see it that way.  “Deal,” he grunted, loving the look of determination on the other man’s face when he started pushing.  The force was minimal, and Tom easily could have slammed Pete’s arm down, but he was having far too much fun.

“Fuck, bro.  You ARE strong,” the brunette said through gritted teeth.  In his mind it was a battle of titans, his massive arm holding its own with the ginger’s meaty piston, but in reality his tight, toned muscle barely outsized Tom’s forearm.  “But I’m…stronger…”

“Holy…shit…man…” the redhead grunted, doing his best to make it seem as if he was straining.  “You…you might have…me…fuck!”  he groaned, letting Pete slam his arm down.

“YES!  FUCK YES!  I TOLD YOU!” the brunette howled, slapping his toned pecs and hopping to his feet.  “Who needs a brain when they got all this,” he purred, breaking into another series of full-body poses as he flexed muscle that wasn’t there.  After a moment he grabbed his inflated club and wagged it in Tom’s direction, nodding at the ground.  “Alright…deal’s a deal.  Get down there and start workin’ this jock meat.”

“Yes sir,” Tom grinned, his cock oozing at the smug twink’s oblivious display.  He dropped to his knees and gripped Pete’s imposing organ, giving the bulbous head a slow lick that made the smaller man shudder.

“Suck it good, bro,” the brunette ordered, folding his slender arms behind his head as Tom went to work.  After only a few passes of the kneeling jock’s tongue he started whimpering, unable to stop the torrent that slipped from his slack jaw.  “Oh fuck bro…oh fuck…shit’s so good…gonna get all that jock juice…you like how some real man meat tastes?  You like that muscle dick?  Fuuuuuuuuck…”  Pete trailed off in a groan, pulling his spit-slick cock away and giving Tom a shove.  In his mind it was enough to send his friend sprawling, and the ginger complied by falling back onto the floor.  In a flash, Pete had dropped to his knees, straddling Tom’s waist with his toned thighs before slamming his oversized bubble onto the redhead’s waiting rod.  The penetrated brunette let out a low, gutural grunt as he started writhing, still flexing the imaginary muscle he saw himself lording over his prone friend.  “Yuuuhhh…yes…yessss!  Lookit that ass…go…” he howled, bouncing up and down ecstatically.   His fattened cock slapped heavily against Tom’s chest while the beefy jock gripped his trim sides, though in his mind he saw his friend’s hands lingering on a set of tank-tread abs.  “Got…gotcha pinned…boy…” Pete grunted, his cute face a mask of determination.  “Thought you could…take this…shit…well guess…againnnnNNGGHHH!”  The shrunken stud bucked and spasmed as he came, the potent eruption pulling an equal load from the man between his thighs.  He kept rolling his hips until they were both spent, his plump cheeks finally coming to a rest and sitting like an anchor on Tom’s lap.  “Not bad for a little guy, bro.”

Tom just grinned and nodded, wiping the cum from his square-cut features as he sat up.  “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”