Hidden Passages: Spell It Out (Patreon)

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at his friend.  He knew James still didn’t fully believe him, but he couldn’t fault the taller brunette for that since he still hadn’t fully wrapped his own head around what was happening.  The very notion of a magic book being real in the first place was preposterous, yet he couldn’t think of any other explanation for the strange turn their day had taken.  “I’m telling you, dude…this has to be it,” the short blonde said, keeping his voice low so Hans wouldn’t hear them on the other side of the apartment door.

James shrugged.  “I’m not saying you’re wrong, bro.  But if you are, we’re about to look real crazy.”

“Can’t be any worse than how we look right now,” Tom countered.  “If one more fucking person calls me ‘TD’ I’m going to lose it.”  When people all over campus had started referring to him with the new nickname earlier in the day, the flustered blonde had been confused.  At first he’d thought it was a compliment.  Tom’s wavy, golden hair, pretty-boy features, athletic build, and preemptive bullying had ensured his continual popularity over the years, even with his relatively short, 5’7” stature.  He’d made an effort to compensate for his lack of height by excelling everywhere else - the classroom, the bedroom, the locker room - and he’d largely been successful, earning high grades, high praise, and elite status on campus.  So when people, even strangers, started referring to him as “TD”, he’d thought it was a positive.  His first guess was that it stood for “touch down”, except he played soccer, not football, and then he thought it could stand for “top dog”, but that felt too random.  It wasn’t until he noticed the way people had begun to talk down to him that he suspected it could be an insult, a fact that was later confirmed when someone skipped the abbreviation and referred to him by his full new name of “T-Dummy”.  It was as if a campus-wide conspiracy had spread overnight, taking his elevated status as campus royalty and swapping it out for a dumb, blonde mascot.  People were still nice to him, but they treated him like he didn’t understand half of what they said, despite his straight-A’s.

“Like ‘Sir Fucks-A-Lot’ is better,” James spat, his face going red.  “I can’t pass a dude without them hitting on me or grabbing my dick, even ones I know are straight.  And they’re not joking!  They really think I’m going to suck their dick or let them fuck me.  Or fuck them!  It’s getting really old, really fast.”  Like the shorter blonde, James had enjoyed his membership in the Most Popular Club.  Standing a commendable 6’1”, he was broad shouldered and leanly built, both a star baseball player and a preeminent ladies man.  His features were sharp and distinguished beneath his chocolate coif, and while he wasn’t nearly as academically driven as Tom, James more than held his own in their shared social circles.  So when guys started whistling and cat-calling as he passed, he’d assumed it was just a joke.  Until they started getting handsy.  Everywhere he went, either his perky rear or impressive bulge were grabbed, the whistles and jeers becoming open propositions.  Somehow he’d gone from being seen as an enviable, handsome hunk to an available, horny piece of meat.

“But did you take any of ‘em up on it,” Tom asked, his wide, dimpled chin offset by a smirk.

“I’m about to smear one queer already, bro.  Don’t make it two,” the broad-shouldered brunette growled.

Tom nodded.  “Silver lining though, right?  Even if we’re wrong, we can at least take out some of this frustration.”

“To be fair…we were going to do that anyway,” James said, his broad grin lacking any humor.  Hans was a favorite target of theirs.  With his slight, wiry build, short, copper hair, and sharp, awkward features, the smaller man had found himself in the duo's sights almost immediately.  His quiet, bookish nature and status as openly gay put him as far from the arrogant jocks as possible, socially speaking, and their paths likely wouldn’t have crossed at all if not for a shared history class a few semesters prior.  Tom had caught Hans eyeing him from across the room one morning, and it had all been downhill from there for the unfortunate ginger who’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Since then, any time they encountered each other on the relatively compact campus involved the jocks hurling insults, and sometimes garbage, along with the occasional body-check or shove.  It was that latter tactic that Tom had employed when he’d stumbled across Hans in the library the day before, only the aftermath didn’t follow the usual routine.

Instead of scampering away, the runt had been defiant.  He’d picked himself up off the ground and waved a heavy volume in the blonde’s face, shouting that he was going to finally set things right.  Tom had thought for a moment that Hans was going to hurl the brown leather tome at him, but the smaller redhead had simply seethed and then trudged away, clutching the weathered book like a life preserver and muttering about how he was going to “spell it all out.”  The unexpected outburst had caught Tom so off guard that he was leaving the library before it even occurred to him that he hadn’t responded at all, he’d merely watched the other man storm off.  There’d been something unnerving about the look in the scrawny man’s eyes, and about the book itself.  The pragmatic jock couldn’t put his finger on it, but the cover, with its unmarked leather and ancient patina, struck him as deceptively simple.  It had come with an ominous sensation, like it was looking at him, a feeling so intense that it made Tom think Hans really was, somehow, responsible.

“Let’s just fucking do this,” the blonde growled, rolling his head on his shoulders before pounding on the door to Hans’s apartment.  He felt a familiar rush of adrenaline when it swung open and he saw the smaller man’s shocked expression, his own face bearing a triumphant grin.

“Surprised to see us, you little bitch,” James barked, shoving Hans into the apartment as the pair stepped inside and shut the door behind them.  “I hear you and Tom had a run-in at the library yesterday.”

The blonde slapped James on the arm and nodded at the table across the room, pointing to the open volume that lay on top.  “See!  That’s the book,” he cried, turning his attention to Hans.  “What was that you were saying yesterday about writing something in there and gettingeven?”

“Wait…wait!  Guys, really, I can explain,” the redhead stammered as he scampered over to the table.  “It’s not what you think!”

“No surprise there,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.  “Since I’m just a dumb blonde who doesn’t really do that in the first place, right?  I don’t know how you got everyone calling me T-Dummy, but I know it was you, asshole.”

“Hold up, bro,” James said, putting a hand on Tom’s shoulder.  “Let’s give him a chance to explain himself.”

“Oh, okay…Sir Fucks-A-Lot is suddenly patient over here,” the blonde spat with a short laugh, turning his attention from the smaller to the taller man.  “What happened?  You realize you like it when dudes do this?”  Tom reached over and grabbed James’s bulge through the front of the brunette’s mesh shorts, giving his friend’s impressive package a lingering squeeze.

Instead of pulling away, the taller jock pressed into the other man’s hand, a smug smile on his face.  “I’m not saying we’re not going to pound that ass…but this little cock sucker clearly put some effort into whatever this is, so let’s really let him have it first,” James purred, emphasizing “pound” and “suck” and “have it.”

Tom just blinked, his confusion over the other man’s nonsensical statement rapidly turning into agreement.  “Ohhhh, so, like, give him his last meal,” he nodded, turning to look at Hans as he ran a hand up his torso, lifting the bottom of his tank-top to show off his impressive abs in the process.

“Exactly!”  James took things a step further by shucking his fitted t-shirt altogether, flexing the powerful arms that so expertly swung a bat behind his head as he posed for the flush-faced Hans.  “He deserves a reward for all that hard work, right?  Pop that top, bud,” he said, his tone encouraging as he reached over and tugged on Tom’s tank-top.

The shorter blonde did so without hesitating, following the removal by kicking out of his shoes and dropping his nylon shorts before being asked.  Clad in nothing but a pair of red briefs, he spread his toned arms wide and turned in a slow circle, beaming.  “As far as final views go, he could do worse, that’s for damn sure.  Fuck, man, you’re looking good,” he said, his eyes glued to the brunette’s strapping torso while his back was turned to Hans.

“Not so bad yourself, dude.  What’s all this?  Come on…don’t leave him hanging,” James cooed as he reached over and pushed the back of Tom’s briefs down.  Years of soccer had left the blonde with a plump, ample bubble, which James eagerly slapped and squeezed in a bouncing display for the smaller redhead.  “Now THERE’S an ass to pound,” the taller man laughed.

“You going to use this,” Tom asked, reaching over and shoving his friend’s shorts and boxer-briefs down in one motion.  He instantly seized the swaying snake that flopped free, tugging on the swelling organ until it was long and hard.  The short stud had never been so turned on in his life, his own cock springing free of the briefs that remained just below his exposed rear.

“Depends on whether or not you think you can take it, little guy,” James purred, loving the immediate look of fury on Tom’s face at being called little.  “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re…mad…wait…” the brunette’s eager grin faded, his eyes going wide when it suddenly occurred to him that  he and Tom had both stripped naked, and that he was actively being jerked off by his friend.  “Dude…what…what are we doing?!”

“What do you mean?  I thought we were…were…” Tom’s face went crimson even as his hand kept absently pumping along his friend’s thick log.  He forced it away when he finally registered the movement, his head spinning at just how badly he wanted to keep going.  “Fuck!  What the fuck is this,” he spat, forgetting about his own exposed girder as he spun around to face Hans.

The smaller man no longer looked nervous.  Instead, the slender redhead radiated a calm, commanding confidence as he held the book open, his hand covering the bottom half of the page.  “Still want me to explain things,” he asked, his tone as firm as the duo’s displayed organs.  “Whatever a person writes in this book, goes.  It’s pretty simple, really.”

“But…but how is that even…” James stammered, squinting as he read the passage.  Everything they’d experienced so far, from their altered status on campus to the recent striptease, was spelled out in terrifying detail.

“Who cares,” Tom hissed, launching himself at Hans while the other man was focused on his friend.  He knew if he could get within arms reach it would all be over for the scrawny nerd, but he only made it a single step before tripping over his own feet and launching himself at the ground instead.  He landed hard, and in his dazed state it took a moment for Tom to register exactly what happened as he blinked down at a pair of feet he no longer recognized.  They were huge, far too long and wide for his short frame, but he only had a moment to gaze at the massive limbs before the growth spread.

It all seemed to happen at once.  As he watched his calves and thighs suddenly stretch and expand, a wave of aching, throbbing lust punched him in the gut.  Tom groaned, not out of pain or terror at his inflating frame, but out of desperation.  The strange attraction he’d just felt for James had intensified, but the sudden, confusing desire he felt when thinking about Hans dwarfed the sensation exponentially.  As he broke out in a head-to-toe sweat, Tom rolled over onto his hands and knees, marveling at how heavy he felt.  The arms that supported him had become sculpted pistons, the shoulders they were attached to pushed far apart from each other to make room for the chiseled, prominent pecs that loomed between them.  Tom had been leanly muscled before, but now he appeared to be sweating out what little excess weight he’d held onto as he struggled upright in his shredded new body.

“WHAT THE FUCK,” Tom roared, now looking down at the other two.  He towered over both, even James, who could only gawk at the blonde Adonis.  In a matter of minutes, Tom’s short, soccer player build had been swapped out for a sculpted swimmer’s lengthy frame.  Without a scale or measuring tape the specifics were still unknown, but it was immediately clear that he’d put on nearly a foot in height as well as a considerable amount of corresponding muscle.  And throughout it all, his cock still throbbed.  The unaltered organ suddenly looked less impressive against his acquired bulk, but Tom was more focused on the way it felt like it was about to shoot off his body.  He was so painfully aroused that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t cum yet.  He could feel himself teetering on that edge, and he oozed like a leaky faucet, but something held him back.  “WHAT DID YOU DO,” he roared again, torn between elation and confusion.  The part of him that had always resented his short stature felt like the impossible scenario was a dream come true, but the part of him that was a smug, straight jock couldn’t wrap its head around the overwhelming new desires coursing through him.  Just looking at Hans made him quiver.  As quickly as everything else, the slender ginger had gone from a scrawny nerd to the most beautiful thing Tom had ever seen.  Thinking back on their encounters, the lengthened blonde suddenly saw his previous tormenting of the smaller man for what it was, a desperate, schoolyard attempt at getting Hans’s attention.  He thought back to all the times he’d secretly fantasized about fucking the timid twink senseless while James watched, and how, like his new body, he’d finally get that chance.  “Wait…but that’s not…I never did any of…did I?” Tom stammered, shaking his head as the lines between the old reality and the new one blurred.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it,” Hans shrugged.  “How we got here isn’t nearly as important as the fact that we GOT here, you know?  And I think you’ll find things are a lot easier when everyone gets along.  Isn’t that right, TD?”

Tom’s inflated chest heaved as the smaller man stepped forward.  He balled his now-massive hands into fists and felt himself tense, but his actions were borne of an entirely different kind of aggression when he lunged forward again.  The part of himself that was still clinging to his role as campus ladies man was mortified at the way he tore Hans out of his clothes, and at how eagerly he dropped to his knees to swallow the redhead’s average cock.  He tried to tell himself he wasn’t actually giddy when he felt Hans stroking through his thick, golden mane, but his vibrating body told him otherwise.  “Oh fuck…oh fuck…” Tom whimpered, feeling like the ground he knelt on suddenly vanished beneath him.  “I’m not just some airhead cock sucker,” he said, wishing it sounded less like a question.  “I’m…I’m…”

As Tom sputtered, Hans was torn from his grasp.  “My turn,” James grunted, movement suddenly returned to his limbs.  While the blonde had been growing, the brunette had been seemingly frozen in place, as if he’d been put on pause until it was his turn.  Now, instead of panicking or marveling at Tom’s transformation, he acted like everything was perfectly normal, including himself taking Hans to the ground and positioning himself for entry.  He’d flipped the redhead over onto his stomach and then hauled him up onto his hands and knees, his cum-slick rod slowly pressing inside.

Hans arched his back and let out a low moan as he looked back at Tom.  “Go…go on, big guy,” he grunted, nodding at the book.

It took the blonde a moment.  He was entirely captivated by the sight of James’s solid rear dimpling as the brunette rolled his hips.  He’d expected to be jealous when Hans had been taken away from him, but, as he stared at the rutting pair, all he felt was overwhelming affection for both of them.  The longer he watched, it gradually occurred to him that he felt similar when thinking about most people.  Tom had been arrogant and aggressive.  TD, on the other hand, was a lover, not a fighter.  Nor was he a thinker.  It also took him a moment to pick up on what Hans wanted him to do because wrangling his thoughts had become a difficult, though not impossible, task.  TD was all about the body, not brains, and everyone was okay with that.

“Huh.  Okay then,” the towering blonde grinned when he finally stared down at the page.  As he’d seen earlier, everything they’d gone through so far, including James hammering into Hans, had been scripted.   Their new roles as doting partners for the smaller man had even been included.  But that’s where the prompts ended, with the last command being for Tom to decide his friend’s fate.  Hans had been careful to indicate that alterations to James were all that the blonde could enter, and while the old Tom may have been able to think of a loophole, TD didn’t quite have the skills.  Nor did he have the desire, though there was still enough of the former Tom present to remember all of the times that James had mocked him for his height, and he was all too happy to return the favor.  And, while he may not have been able to alter Hans, if the wiry redhead wanted to get stuffed, he’d make sure that Sir Fucks-A-Lot had plenty of material to work with.

TD scribbled in the book and then draped himself against his friend’s back, wrapping his arms around the original James for the final time.  As soon as he slipped inside the other man, rolling his hips in a matching rhythm, the changes began.  All at once, the brunette’s trim, tapering frame began to swell, not from growing additional muscle, but from a restructuring of the bulk he had.  While Tom had grown taller, his friend was moving in the other direction, his chocolate coif dropping lower and lower as he filled out.  Since he’d gained a foot himself, TD thought it appropriate to take one from James, leaving the other man at a diminutive 5’1” and swapping out the brunette’s lean frame for broad, beefy bulk.  Sir Fucks-A-Lot was a barrel-chested, brawny little bulldog, his lumpy, meaty muscle as perfect a match for the wrestling mat as his former build had been for trotting around a baseball diamond.  Though, technically, the stocky stud still swung a sizable bat.  TD grinned when Hans suddenly howled, the cock inside him adding several inches in length and girth.  After all, if James was going to become Sir Fucks-A-Lot he needed a good lance, and the old Tom felt a mischievous thrill at the thought of his friend’s short stature sporting a fat, eleven-inch log and plump, churning balls.  The oversized organ would be impossible to ignore, especially when stuffed into a straining singlet, but considering his friend’s new role on campus he thought he was doing the other man a favor.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” TD groaned, loving the way it felt to hammer against the ample cheeks that had replaced his friend’s perky bubble.  He clutched the shrunken brunette’s slab of a chest, catching glimpses of the other man’s wide, fleshy pillar as it slipped in and out of Hans.  “You guys feel awesome,” he grunted.

“It’d…feel better if you…fucked me…harder…” James barked.

“Easy there, Sir Fucks-A-Lot,” TD laughed, looking at the dazed, wide-eyed expression on the redhead’s face as the smaller man writhed.  “Don’t break the little guy.  How you doin’, runt?”

“Gre…greeauuuhhnngg…great…” Hans moaned, his jaw slack as he looked over at the empty table.   TD followed the smaller man’s gaze, not sure why he expected to see something there, but it didn’t matter.  He could finally feel himself about to fall over the edge, and as soon as he was done unloading into the stocky stud it was going to be his turn with Hans.