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  1. I've asked this a long while ago. Any story here or at other story sites of bullies,downright nasty and undeserved guys growing HUGE at the expense of the central characters, and where evil or the bad guy(s) triumphs. Maybe with the reality shifts?
  2. TheGeneralGuy

    The Onyx Heart

    The Onyx Heart The darkness was cold and silent. Michael couldn’t see anything past the tip of his nose. He was scared, looking frantically for anything to grasp on inside the void. “Michael? Is that you?” A familiar voice echoed through the black infinity, calling up for Michael. He started running desperately towards its direction. He felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest, as he fought his way through the nothingness looking for the source of the voice. “Michael, help me! I can’t take it! Please…! Make it stop…”, echoed the voice, slowly fading away. “No! Don’t go! I’m trying, I swear I’m trying…”, said Michael desperately, forcing his weak legs to propel him forward. Suddenly, a sharp pain enveloped his torso. He looked down, only to find heavy black chains digging on his skin, pulling him backwards. “Please, I need to go forward! I’m almost there…” He fought with all his might, but the cold metal wouldn’t budge. With one last surge of strength, he threw himself forward, only to be yanked by the heavy chain. He screamed as he was swallowed by the darkness, losing the fading echo that was calling for him. Michael was abruptly woken up by the sudden screeching of the old taxi’s breaks. It was hot, and the young man was sweating through his shirt. “There you go señor”, said the gruff voice of the taxi driver, his stern face looking back expectantly. “Oh, yes thank you,'' said Michael absently, grabbing a thousand pesos bill and putting it in the man’s thick hands. “Keep the change, it was a long ride.” The taxi driver eased his expression a little bit, his thick mustache twitching while he observed the young man opening the trunk to take his baggage out. He rolled down the window and whistled to get his attention. “Thank you señor. Let me give you some advice. This town is older than our country itself. Treat it with respect. And most important of all, let it treat you with the kindness you need.” Michael listened to the heavy accented voice, trying to make sense of what the old man was saying. Before he could ask anything, the tires screeched again and he was left standing in the middle of a dust cloud. He covered his face coughing, as he turned around to check out his surroundings. Small Spanish colonial houses decorated each side of the wide street. In the distance, the bell tower of the cathedral stood tall above the rooftops, watching proudly above the entire town. He had heard wonders about Mexican “Pueblos magicos”, but the rumors paled in comparison to the real deal. The entire town seemed to have been taken out of a storybook. He took his luggage and headed back towards the entrance of the hotel. The massive wooden doors were surrounded by two handsome bellboys, who took Michael’s luggage and welcomed him inside. He headed towards the front desk, admiring the iron chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling and the lavish decoration of the ex-hacienda’s lobby. “Welcome to San Miguel de Allende, Mr. Andersen. Could I please bother you with your passport and reservation number?”, said the gorgeous receptionist on the other side of the desk. His tight suit fitted the curves of his square chest perfectly, making it hard for Michael to focus on handing out the needed documents for the check-in. Fumbling with his bag, he handed in the papers to the receptionist, who swiftly typed in the needed information. “Your room number is 245. You’re free to explore all of our facilities, including the spa and the fitness center. Your luggage will be waiting for you in your room. If you need anything during your stay, let me know.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile and signaling the buff bellboy to come and pick up the suitcases. The hotel’s interior was just as gorgeous as the lobby. The ancient colonial building was adorned by all kinds of stone sculptures and old paintings depicting a past era of Mexican history. The hallways leading to the rooms formed a giant square, and in the middle, you could see the tables of the famous hotel’s restaurant surrounding the tall volcanic stone fountain in the center. The golden rays of sunlight made the water look like liquid fire, bubbling out of the sculpture’s intricate design. Michael’s room was on one corner of the uppermost floor. When he opened the big wooden doors, he found himself in the most luxurious room he had ever been in. A small living room with a few couches and an ornamental fireplace led to a big bedroom with a robust king size bed. Four door-sized windows lead to a wide balcony that overlooked the hills that surrounded the small town, along with the famous vineyard that belonged to the hotel. Michael just dropped his handbag and opened one of the doors leading outside. The hot air immediately hit his face, as he walked outside staring into the beautiful scenery. He let the scent of the arid breeze fill his lungs, as he felt he could relax for the first time in months. He begrudgingly let himself be convinced of taking a holiday by his friends back home, but he never expected to feel at such ease in a foreign country. This next week might be just what he needed to let his sorrow go. Michael was so enthralled by the landscape, that he completely missed the fact that the suite he was in was definitely not the room he booked. This kind of luxury would be definitely out of his budget. Once he truly realized what kind of room he was standing in, he rushed to the small coffee table next to one of the couches, and immediately dialed the number from the front desk. “Front desk, Hector Ramirez speaking.”, Michael instantly recognized the deep accented voice on the other side of the line. It was that handsome receptionist that checked him in just a few minutes ago. “Yes, uh…, I’m Michael Andersen from room 245. I just checked in with you a few moments ago.”, said Michael hesitantly. He scorned himself for sounding so nervous, but even through the phone he was still intimidated by the other man’s looks. “I think there might have been a mistake with my booking.” “Alright Mr. Andersen, let me check your reservation quickly.” Michael could hear the typing on the other side of the line. Seconds felt like hours, as the poor tourist grew more nervous thinking the mistake was his. “Everything seems to be alright Mr. Andersen,'' said the receptionist. Michael just stood in place meditating his next few words. “I’m sorry, but that can’t be. I booked a regular room, not… a suite.” “Your reservation states that you booked the presidential suite, Mr. Andersen. Let me check with my supervisor to see what can be done. I’ll call you in a moment.” Michael waited seated on the couch, tapping his feet nervously on the expensive red carpet. There was no way he booked a presidential suite at one of the town’s most expensive hotels. It was a miracle he could afford anything other than a hostel, let alone a five-star resort. Most of his savings had gone to this trip, so he was already feeling dreadful about spending that money. If they charged him for the suite, he would be stuck in Mexico doing work for the hotel to pay off his debt. As his anxiety started to get the best out of him, the ringing of the room’s phone made him jump in his seat. He immediately took the call, hearing that familiar mellifluous voice on the other side of the line. “Mr. Andersen! It’s Hector Ramirez again. I spoke to my supervisor about your problem, and it seems we’re in a difficult situation. We can’t move you to any other room, because the hotel is fully booked due to the national holidays this weekend. The mistake was probably caused by a change in our system, so the least we can do for you is to charge you the price of a regular single room and offer you the presidential suite for your entire stay.” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only did he make it to a storybook town, but he was going full luxury on his stay. “Uhhh…. Thanks. I appreciate that.”, he said shyly to the phone. “Nothing to thank us for, Mr. Andersen. Our number one priority is to make your stay as comfortable as possible. If you need anything, I’m at your service.” Michael hung up the phone and for the first time in very long, he felt a genuine smile paint itself on his lips. This trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all. It might just be the remedy he needed. He jumped into the giant bed, letting himself be swallowed by its soft surface. Then, everything went dark. The agonizing screams kept getting closer, as Michael ran through the darkness looking desperately for the source of the sounds. Suddenly, it was cold. Very cold. It reminded Michael of the winters back home, where the sun hid for a couple of months, and a taciturn silence reigned supreme over the city. The happiness that the holidays once brought was long gone, one winter worse than the last one. This winter had been, by far, the worst time in his life. Feeling the cold brush against his skin as he ran through the darkness reminded him of the pain he felt when he was trapped inside his apartment with… “Michael, please! Hurry!” His footsteps started to get clumsy, as the ground shattered underneath him, like thin ice, submerging him into a frozen abyss. He felt his consciousness drift away once more, and the voice was suddenly like the beacon in a far-off lighthouse, lost in the winter mist. The sun was starting to set when Michael opened his eyes. The beautiful room was painted golden, giving it an even cozier appearance. He groggily stood up and checked out his phone. Many messages from his friends and family popped up on the screen. With a frustrated groan, he threw the phone on the bed and stretched his limbs. That little nap had been very refreshing, despite the horrible nightmares that still haunted him. “It must be the bed,'' he said out loud, admiring the mattresses’ soft texture. It was the first time he slept on silk sheets. He definitely understood rich people’s fascination for the expensive material. He went to the bathroom to wash himself and plan his evening. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the suite, with intricate marble decorations and even a big jacuzzi. The sink was just underneath a wall-sized mirror, where Michael could admire, or dread, his unkempt appearance. He didn’t realize how much he had let himself go these last few months. His dirty blonde hair looked greasy, and was in desperate need of styling. His chin and sideburns were covered by the little scruff he was able to grow, looking more like a rebellious teenager trying to grow his sparse facial hair than the twenty-five-year-old man he actually was. His baby-blue eyes were sunken on their sockets, encased by deep eye bags unable to conceal their tiredness. He was a cute guy, or so he heard. He didn’t really care for his youthful looks or his increasingly thin body. He was too tired to care for his appearance. After splashing some water on his face and brushing his teeth, he opened the browser on his phone to look for some activities. He found out the best way to explore the town, was actually heading to the center and do some walking himself. He changed his shirt and headed outside. The restaurant was starting to fill in with people. Michael made a mental note to himself to make a dinner reservation there to try out the local cuisine. Hector Ramirez was gone from the front desk, replaced by an equally hot Mexican stud. He took one little tourist leaflet from the information stand, and headed outside through the massive wooden doors. The streets looked way livelier than before, as people ventured to explore the old town’s streets safe from the scorching hot sun. The town’s central plaza wasn’t far from where he was, so he decided to take a stroll and check out what kind of activities he was willing to try out. By the time he made it in front of Saint Michael’s cathedral, the sun was already setting, and the small streets were absolutely filled with tourists. Mariachi music echoed through the streets, as people gathered inside cantinas and restaurants, getting ready for a night of partying. Michael wasn’t a fan of socializing, so he immediately discarded the party scene from his to-do list. On his way to the plaza, he found a sightseeing bus, some good restaurants and lots of artisanal shops. The cathedral was already closed, so he decided to check out some of those stores around the center before finding somewhere to eat. All the small shops sold essentially the same things. A lot of artisanal stone cravings, some quartz sculptures, paintings and some variety of clothing. Michael checked out the pieces of art, admiring the Catrinas and pieces of fruit made out of precious minerals. He considered buying some souvenirs for people back home, but decided to wait until the end of his trip so he didn’t have to carry heavy stones while he headed for dinner. Once the stores started closing, he made his way through the streets looking for an empty-looking restaurant to sit in peace and enjoy the Mexican culinary culture. All the places looked extremely full though, which discouraged Michael to try out some of the Restaurants on the main streets. After walking for a while, he found himself on smaller, darker looking alleys. People were still walking around, so he wasn’t nervous. He read online that the town was very safe, despite what the media back home sputtered about the Latin American country. Once he got tired of looking for a restaurant, he took out his phone to google which good dining places were close to him. A faint voice caught his attention, as he looked up from the screen to find an old looking woman sitting on the curb of the alley. She was wearing an intricate shawl, adorned with colorful details. Her tan face was covered in wrinkles, giving her a wise appearance. On her lap laid a carpet full of artisanal stone carvings, similar to what Michael saw on the different shops across town. But these articles looked more detailed, and complicated. He approached the old woman, who just smiled staring straight into Michael’s blue eyes. “Ah, joven. What can I help you with?”, she said. Her voice was raspy and dry, and her accent very strong. Still, she spoke in such a way that Michael didn’t have any trouble understanding. “Your stuff is very beautiful. Do you make these yourself?” “Si, I do. Very, very hard. Hands don’t trabajan like before.” “Still, I’m very impressed…”, said Michael checking out the wares. “Tell me, joven. What can I help you with?” Her tone was eerie, but very calm. Michael looked at her once again, not knowing what he should answer. “You think I don’t know, joven. But I do. I can see your dolor. Your pain.” Michael went pale, feeling completely defenseless against the mysterious woman’s gaze. He started to sweat, as he felt the sincerest words he had said in a long time bubble up from his throat. “I want to be happy again. I want to laugh, and cheer, and love again. I want to feel life is worth living. And most of all, I want to recover the strength I lost.” He immediately covered his mouth, not believing what he just said. The woman smiled, her dull eyes sparkling for an instant. Without looking, she reached for her pocket, and took out what seemed to be a black rock. When she opened her palm, Michael saw a small but very detailed black heart. “This is an onyx heart. It helps you to let go of the past. What has happened to you will strengthen your heart. Let this precious stone guide you to your destiny.” Michael took the stone in his hands. It was cold to the touch, its surface smooth and free of any impurity. Before he could reach for his wallet, the woman stopped him with a sign from his hands. “No payment. The heart has always been yours. You will pay with your actions, not with your money.” Michael smiled at the old woman, not fully understanding what she meant. With a cordial “gracias” he got up and headed to the lit street at the end of the alley. The woman smiled, knowing already what the land had planned for that young man’s destiny. “Pollo con mole, tiradito de atún, escamoles….” Michael was trying his best to understand the exotic dishes printed on the small restaurant’s menu. According to TripAdvisor, this was one of the best places to be having dinner. It wasn’t very expensive, so he decided to treat himself with a nice meal. Being a victim of Montezuma’s revenge scared him a little, but the sounds coming from his empty stomach indicated a stronger need to stuff himself with anything he could find. When the waiter came with the fruity margarita he ordered, he asked him what his recommendation was. “You should have the Aguachile, señor. It’s the best one in town!” “But isn’t it too spicy?”, asked Michael remembering chile means chili. Doing Spanish in high school was starting to pay off. “Nah, don’t you worry señor. I’ll ask the chef to make it mild just for you.”, said the waiter smiling through his dense mustache. “Alright, thanks! I’ll have some guacamole as well.” “Coming right up!” The waiter rushed back into the kitchen, leaving the student alone to enjoy his margarita. When his lips touched the salt frosted glass, he winced tasting the strong tequila even through the sugary strawberry syrup. The strong agave distillate slid down his throat, burning everything on its path. “If you make those faces with a margarita, imagine when you move to a real caballito.” A deep voice caught Michael’s attention, who turned around and was faced by the most handsome man he had ever seen. A short black beard covered his square jaw, sprinkled with some white hairs giving it a regal appearance. Two deep brown eyes hooded by two bushy, but well-groomed eyebrows stared at the young student intensely. His hair was black as well, styled perfectly in a faded quiff. The man looked very muscular, his athletic build encased in a perfectly tailored black shirt. It was open, exposing the hard ridge of his upper chest, and his arms strained against the expensive looking fabric. He was probably in his early- to mid- forties judging by the white strands on his hair. Michael was so impressed by the man’s appearance, he completely missed what he had said. “Huh? What do you mean?”, was the only thing he could stutter. The man just chuckled, his chest shaking inside the shirt, threatening to rip it apart. “I mean, when you start drinking tequila how it was meant to be drunk. On a caballito. Like a shot glass.” The man then stood up, exposing his impressive figure to the speechless student. His legs were proportionally big as well, stretching the tailored pants with each step. “Mind if I join you?”, he asked. Michael just nodded, trying his hardest not to start drooling in front of such a person. The man sat down next to him, putting his own caballito on the table. “Where are my manners? My name is Iñigo de la Fuente.” His voice was soft, but deep and commanding. His gaze stern, but warm and welcoming. There was something about this man Michael couldn’t put his finger on. Even his scent was alluring, exuding an expensive wooden smell product of some cologne on his neck. “I-I’m Michael Andersen.”, he said shakingly. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Andersen. Can I call you Michael?”, he said extending his hand. “Sure, it’s fine,'' answered the student, taking the man’s hand. His grip was strong, his palm rough and calloused. Despite his impeccable appearance, the man was no stranger to hard labor it seemed. “You can call me Iñigo too,'' he said, sipping some tequila from his glass. “What brings you to San Miguel de Allende, Michael?” “My friends recommended the trip for me to relax and get out of the routine. Some…stuff happened back at home, so I needed a break,” said Michael diverting his gaze from the man’s. Iñigo immediately saw the pain that haunted the young student. “I see. This is a magical place. It changes you in more than one way. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” “I hope so too,'' said Michael taking another sip from his margarita. “What about you?” “What brings me here you mean?”, said Iñigo chuckling. “My family has been living here since colonial times. I was born and raised here.” “Oh, I see,'' said the student, feeling a bit embarrassed. “So, any recommendations? Anything I can’t miss during my stay here?” “Well, the town is beautiful. You should definitely get lost on the streets and explore it by yourself. You can visit some local art galleries as well. If you want something more, non-conventional, you should pay a visit to the local vineyards.” “Yes! I saw many on my way here. I have a view over one from my hotel room as well.” “In which hotel are you staying?”, asked Iñigo, stroking his beard. “It’s called Real de Rosales. Not so far from here, I think.” Iñigo just stayed quiet, his eyes scanning the young man before him. “Yes, I know where it is,'' he said absently. “You can’t miss the restaurant there too.” “It looks very good! I definitely wanna try it!” They talked for a while, discussing Michael’s engineering studies, and some other local subtleties. The waiter came with the food, and both men joined to have dinner. Hours felt like minutes, as both Michael and Iñigo grew more interested in each other. They laughed, ate and drank for a long time. Iñigo even tried to convince Michael to try some pure tequila, but the student refused, not willing to lose his composure in front of that elegant man. Some time past midnight, Iñigo asked for the check and even paid for Michael’s meal. “This one’s on me. For the good company.”, he said flashing a heart melting smile. Michael felt embarrassed that a stranger was paying for his expenses. “No! I can’t let you pay for me, he said, reaching for his wallet. Iñigo stopped him, grabbing his arm. Michael could feel the strong grip almost surrounding its entire circumference. “I insist. In fact, if you do feel bad about it, next one’s on you.” Michael couldn’t believe his ears. This gorgeous man he just met was asking to meet him again. He enthusiastically nodded, a cheerful smile printing itself on the student’s lips. Iñigo smiled as well, wondering what it was that he found so attractive in this young man. “Tomorrow, I promise,'' said Michael, extending his hand. Iñigo grabbed it and both men sealed the promise with a handshake. The student ordered a taxi to go back to the hotel. Before closing the door, he yelled to catch Iñigo’s attention, who was heading to his own car. “Wait! How can I contact you? I don’t have your number or anything.”, he said. Iñigo let out a booming laugh, and approached the open taxi. “I’ll pick you up at six in your hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, the taxi door was closed and the infatuated student was on his way back to the hotel. The moment he entered the suite, he threw himself on the bed like a lovestruck teenager. He couldn’t wait to see what that handsome man had planned for both of them. He drifted into sleep, the cold black onyx heart still in his pocket. The screams were getting closer this time. Michael was still fighting his way through the darkness, when suddenly he found a door. A very familiar door, identical to the one back at home in his apartment. He slowly opened it, and found himself standing in the middle of his small living room. The place was messy and dirty, almost like it had been uninhabited for a long time. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling, and dust gathered on every surface. The screams had stopped. Michael explored his living room, seeing all his consoles and books in their respective places. He took one of the picture frames, and swept the dust off the glass surface. He remembered the picture. A healthier looking Michael was smiling back at him, along with another person. A very familiar person. The next few pictures were taken with the exact same person. All of them depicted fun and happy moments between both the student and the other man. In fact, the living room was filled with different mementos covered in dust and spiderwebs. Valentine’s day balloons, letters, a music box, a stuffed animal and even some empty wine bottles. A sound coming from the hallway caught Michael’s attention. He headed towards the noise, entering the dark hallway. It was cold again, Michael could see his breath condensing in front of him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his teeth chattering due to the bitter cold. The hallway grew more and more unkempt, the floorboards starting to crack and break under the student’s feet. When he reached the end of the hallway, he found himself in front of his bedroom door. He heard a whisper from the other side. As he approached to listen to what it was saying, the door opened and a chain with a harpoon pierced Michael’s chest, yanking him inside the bedroom. The student woke up screaming, almost jumping out of bed. He was sweating profusely, the silk sheets sticking to his skin. He was having nightmares again. He rubbed his eyes groggily, and saw some morning sun peeking through the thick curtains. He checked his phone, seeing he had some missed calls from his friends and family. He grunted annoyed, and wrote a few short texts to let everyone know he was fine. When he got out of bed, he felt heavy. “I shouldn’t have eaten that much so late,'' he said to himself as he headed towards the bathroom to wash himself. The shower was glorious, being equipped with a hydro massage and a sauna. Michael relished in on the sensations that the water caused on his skin. He couldn’t help but feel something out of place, almost as if the water flowed differently on his skin. After he was done, he approached the mirror to brush his teeth. When he saw his reflection, he felt a bit uneasy. He couldn’t tell why, but his hair looked a shade darker. He brushed it with his fingers, and a few strands came off, sticking to his hand. His face looked different as well, almost as if the lighting in the bathroom was casting a shadow on his jawline. It made it look sharper as well. When he inspected the rest of his body, he saw that his formerly smooth skin was now plagued by small but thick bristles. It was denser on his arms, his chest and his legs. Even his pubic hair looked darker as well. Michael was very confused, but he attributed it to the lack of recovery sleep and the food the day prior. At least Montezuma didn’t show up to mess up his night some more. He got dressed, wearing some shorts and a simple t-shirt. His legs felt a bit snug against the fabric, and so did his arms. He made another mental note to himself to eat less heavy stuff so the bloating would go away. He took the onyx heart with him on his way out, storing it inside his pocket. He had breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant. The buffet was filled with all kinds of tasty dishes and exotic fruits. Michael served himself a lot of eggs, some chilaquiles and fried beans. His appetite wasn’t usually that big early in the morning, but this time he engulfed all in his path. Michael didn’t find it alarming, thinking it would help to carry him through the very active routine he had planned. He left the hotel, greeting Hector on his way out, and headed towards the town’s center. It was a hot day. Michael was already sweating when he stepped out into the scorching sunlight. The street seemed brighter than the day before. Michael didn’t know if it was the magic of the place, or just sleeping in such a luxurious bed that had him in a good mood. He even smiled and greeted a few strangers that walked past him. The slight discomfort of his legs rubbing with each other made him widen his stance, not noticing the change in his stride. By the time he made it to the sightseeing bus stop, his drenched t-shirt was sticking tight against his torso, and he could feel the waistband of his shorts dig into his flesh. “Weird.”, he mumbled, trying to pull down the hem of his t-shirt down to cover his lower belly. He paid his ticket, and immediately took his seat inside the old bus. The tour was in Spanish, so he hoped to catch a few phrases to at least understand the context of what the tour guide was saying. “San Miguel de Allende fue un poblado pre-hispanico chichimeca…” Michael was listening to the woman’s explanation about the town’s history, understanding way more than he thought he would. He even knew some facts about Mexican history before the guide would mention them. He never considered himself well educated in foreign matters, but the way the woman was talking about the Mexican War of Independence and the Mexican Revolution seemed familiar. Almost like he had heard the tale somewhere else before. The bus drove through the streets full of tourists, making a few stops on the town’s most important landmarks. Michael was paying attention to the tour, but he couldn’t help but notice some different aspects all over the landscape, like where people gathered the most to buy food, or where the different colonial building façades looked most worn out by the weather. He couldn’t help but think of ways to improve the streets, making them cleaner and more attractive to different kinds of people. His wandering mind was interrupted by the announcement that the tour was over. His daydream made him miss the rest of the explanation. He got out of the bus, leaving the lady a very generous tip for her service. The next few hours went over fast. He grabbed a cold michelada and sat on a bench right outside Saint Michael’s cathedral, admiring the beauty of the bell tower. “No wonder this town is so famous. Everything is gorgeous”, he said, feeling completely at ease. Despite sitting directly under the sun, he felt no discomfort. His pale skin was usually very sensitive to light and hot weather, burning even after the smallest exposure. But at that moment, he was enjoying the warmth against his face, fully bathing in the afternoon sunlight. It was a nice contrast to the cold and dark weather back home. He left back to the hotel two hours before the time he was supposed to meet Iñigo, so he could get ready for the date in peace. Once he was back in his suite, he headed straight for the shower to wash off all the stale sweat from the excursion earlier. He struggled trying to take his t-shirt off, almost like it was a few sizes too small. The button from his shorts practically burst on its own, releasing the tension Michael kept feeling during the day. Looking in the mirror, he definitely looked bigger. His arms seemed stronger, just like his legs. His formerly teen-sized waist had thickened considerably, along with his flat chest. He reached up to grab one of his pecs, and was surprised to feel a very small chunk of hard muscle underneath. It was still imperceptible to the eyes, but it was definitely there. The small bristles had also grown some, covering his limbs with a dark dusting of sparse hair. But instead of feeling alarmed by the second puberty he was going through, Michael felt it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t pay any attention to the changes, heading straight into the shower. He had sweat a lot, so he made sure to wash every part of his body thoroughly. The idea of showing up even with the smallest amount of dirt to his date disgusted him. Iñigo was a very elegant man, so the least he could do was to try and get on his level. He chose to wear some dark jeans, along with the only button shirt he had brought to the trip. The fact that it was a size too big was perfect to accommodate his new bulk. Again, he took the small onyx heart before leaving the room. When he arrived in the lobby, his eyes were immediately attracted by Iñigo’s imposing figure. Like the day before, he was clad in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged every curve of his body. He was leaning over the front desk, casually chatting with Hector Ramirez, who looked just as gorgeous as every time Michael saw him. The student’s heart sank on his chest, thinking he might have misinterpreted things with the local man. After all, why would such a stud be interested in a weedy foreign man? Self-doubt plagued Michael’s mind, triggering his flight instinct. But before he could sneak out of there unembarrassed, he heard Iñigo’s booming voice resonate on the high ceiling of the hacienda. “Michael! Over here!” Michael’s resistance melted the instant he heard that deep accented bass mention his name. He turned around, putting on the best smile his lips could muster. “Hello Iñigo. You’re a bit early”, he said approaching the handsome man. Iñigo immediately took his hand for a firm handshake. The student’s heart skipped a bit, feeling that strong grasp on his palm again. “Ah, yes. I was talking a bit with the guys at the front desk. I’m always impressed to see how much Hector has grown.”, he said looking back at the front desk. “The boy was raised on one of my family’s properties. It makes me proud to see he grew up to be such a responsible young man.” Michael wasn’t surprised to find out that Iñigo was probably an influential figure in this town. His poise, his style and his manners depicted a very cultured and educated person. “So, are you ready to taste the best tequila you ever had?”, asked Iñigo, inviting Michael to walk next to him. “Only a little bit. I’m not ready to re-live my university party days.” “Ah, of course. It’s only going to be a taste. After all, the highlight of this town is the wine. I’ll be your own personal sommelier tonight.”, said Iñigo. Both men then headed outside, where the man’s car was waiting for them. The place they were visiting was more on the outer part of town. The art gallery used to be an old factory, adapted to showcase the local artists’ works. According to the Mexican, one of the best cantinas was right next to the place. Before heading for dinner, Iñigo invited Michael to take a look through the many exhibitions. Walking around, the student got more and more mesmerized by the handsome man, as he explained all the different art movements embodied in the paintings. “Many of the upcoming artists here are struggling. This gallery gives them an opportunity to show their talent to the world. Even if their work isn’t immediately bought, the fact that they’re being seen for their artistry is enough for most of them. Creativity flourishes in adversity.”, said Iñigo, admiring the different paintings before them. Michael just listened silently. He could relate more to those artists than the man thought, having gone through plenty of adversity himself. Iñigo noticed the student’s increasingly grim expression, and made a detour to head to the cantina. Once they were sitting on a table, the waiter brought them a few snacks and two caballitos. Iñigo ordered the best tequila in the house in Spanish. Michael didn’t realize he was starting to understand even the single expressions in the foreign language. The waiter poured both glasses full, and with a small toast both men took a sip of the agave drink. “So, Michael. These two eyes have seen many people come and go from this town. When I see you, I see you’re in need of a friend. What happened there?” The student looked down on his glass, not knowing what to answer. Iñigo was still a stranger after all. But there was something inside of him that wanted to vomit his concealed feelings. The emotions were bubbling inside of him, causing his body temperature to rise. He unbuttoned his shirt's uppermost button, feeling the fresh air brush against his hot skin. The handsome man’s allure was too powerful, inspiring trust and confidence in Michael. “Nothing important,'' he said, taking a sip of tequila. “Art galleries remind me of someone.” “Someone? As in important someone?”, asked Iñigo. His dark eyes staring deeply into the student’s own. “Yes. My ex-boyfriend was a very talented artist. He used to love visiting these places, interpreting the paintings and translating the artists’ emotions in such a way that I understood everything.” Michael’s eyes started to water, but he made an inhuman effort to swallow the tears. Iñigo noticed the student’s distress, and took his hand. “Whatever happened between you two, it's in the past. You can learn from it, but you can’t live in it. You have to let go.” “How…?”, asked Michael, his voice breaking. The onyx heart in his pocket started to pulse, its cold surface heating up slowly. “I spent months trying to heal. My entire life crumbled right in front of me. That’s why I’m here. This was my last resort, so I wouldn’t…”. He couldn’t finish the sentence. Iñigo rubbed his rough fingers on the student’s hand, trying his best to calm him down. The man’s touch was having a positive effect on Michael, a feeling of safety washing all over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable with someone, despite talking about the one thing he couldn’t talk about to other people. “Pain is a very strange thing,'' said Iñigo. “You can feel it trying to destroy you. If you let it, it will. But the truth is, that pain teaches you how strong you are.” “What do you mean?”, asked Michael looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re sitting here with me is a testament to your fortitude. You survived.” Michael’s expression eased up, as the man’s words entered his being, and washed all the sorrow away. He could almost feel the black heart syphoning the negativity away. “Once you let go of the past, you will see your destiny.” Michael smiled at Iñigo, his own heart warming up. He took the tequila glass up and made another toast. “For destiny.” Iñigo raised his glass too, smiling at the student. He could feel a strong attraction for him as well, and he couldn’t tell why. A lifetime in that town had taught him not to question destiny’s intricate design. Letting things flow was the best path of action one could take. “For destiny.” Both men kept drinking all night. Michael didn’t notice how much alcohol went into his system. He was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, but for some reason he could keep up with Iñigo all night long. He could feel his torso slowly starting to press against the shirt, the buttons starting to struggle to keep it closed. His movement was being restricted by the fabric, his back forbidding his arms to move forward. The pressure on his jeans was unbearable, so he eventually took off his belt and unbuttoned the pants. By the time the bottle was empty, it was past midnight and both men were slightly drunk. “So, my friend. I owe you an apology.”, said Iñigo, his voice losing some of its elegance and acquiring a hint of macho that made Michael’s manhood twitch. “I didn’t let you try out the wine I promised.” “Don’t worry, hombre.”, said Michael, his own voice feeling a bit more raspy than usual. “I’ll still be here a couple of more days.” “Then let me promise, tomorrow I’ll take you to the vineyard. A private tour. What do you say?” “Of course, I’d love it. With one condition. You have to wear some sexy outfit para el campo” Iñigo’s laugh almost made the bar’s glasses shake. “You got it, my friend.” Iñigo’s driver dropped Michael at his hotel, and drove away into the night. By the time he made it to his room, the drunk student barely managed to take off his shoes and plummet into the bed, straight into Morpheus’ embrace. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing in an identical copy of his bedroom. His sheets were undone, as usual, and his clothes were laying on their usual spot on the floor. The lights were on, and everything looked normal. Someone was sitting on the bed, facing straight into the dark window on the other side of the room. “So, you finally made it huh? Took you long enough.” Michael’s face grew pale, as the person turned around and he knew exactly who he was. “Will?” “In the flesh,'' said Will standing up from the bed. “I really thought you weren’t going to make it.” “When have I not made it?” asked Michael approaching the other man. “You know when.” “That’s not fair Will, I gave you everything I had.” Will’s face grew somber, a sinister shadow spreading on his eyes. “Not everything. You never gave your all for this relationship. Not even a year and you’re already looking for a replacement.” “That’s not true! It was a difficult time for both of us. The world was trying its best to kill us. And I stayed. It tore me apart, but I stayed. You were the one that left!” “You know it wasn’t my fault!”, roared Will, the room shaking uncontrollably. The dark shadow was spreading from Will’s body into the surroundings, making the wooden floor decay and the painting on the walls peel down. “I was sick! What else were you expecting? Can you really blame me for what happened? Let me rephrase that. Do you still blame me for what happened?!” Before Michael could answer, the decaying floor gave away, and the student fell into the darkness below. On his way down, he heard the dreaded siren of an ambulance, he saw the blue lights of a police car, and felt his own wails of suffering escape his throat once again. The light of the room went up and away like a shooting star. “Room service!” A knocking on the door pulled Michael out from his sleep. He had no idea how late it was, but judging by the bright light coming in from the window, it must be nearing noon. He felt like he was run over by a bulldozer. Slowly, he dragged his heavy body out of the bed to answer the knocking. “Un Segundo”, he said, his accent in Spanish not as pronounced as it used to be. When he opened the door, he was met by the startled face of a small woman in a maid’s outfit. “Uhh…, vuelvo después.”, she said and rapidly disappeared with her car in the hallway. Michael just stood there with the door half open, wondering if he said something wrong. The woman looked embarrassed and impressed. He headed to the bathroom for his morning routine, but when he saw himself in the mirror he almost screamed for help, thinking a stranger had gotten inside his suite. “Damn, is that me?”, he said admiring his different body on the reflective surface. The shirt had given up during the night, and on the opening Michael could see a lean muscular torso. The small bristles had grown into a full dark carpet that covered his hard chest and descended over the faint ridges of his abdominal muscles into the overly stretched waistband of his jeans. He struggled to take the ruined garment off, to finally free his much thicker arms from their confinement. They were covered by thick body hair as well. He flexed in front of the mirror, a small hill rising from his upper arm. Even his armpit hair was different, the sparse blonde hair replaced by a thick bush. Despite being so hairy, he still looked well groomed. Not a single hair looked unkempt, all his pelt meticulously designed to accentuate the much more athletic body. He forcefully took off his jeans, revealing thick corded muscle underneath. His boxer briefs were now stretched by an actual ass, instead of the flat surface that occupied them before. Even his bigger feet were hairy now, each toe displaying a dusting of its own. He took a closer look at his face. His nose seemed bigger, along with a more pronounced brow and higher cheekbones. He looked rougher, and mature. His blue eyes looked a bit darker, and his hair was browner instead of blonde now, and looked more wavy than straight like it used to be. What really stood out from his new visage was the dark five o’clock shadow covering his square jaw. It was rough as sandpaper, and so thick no naked skin was visible underneath. Michael was completely speechless, feeling new strength and energy coursing through his whole body. Somehow, it felt right. He wasn’t scared, he was just surprised. The more time he moved his body in front of the mirror, the more normal it seemed. By the time he was able to turn around and get into the shower, the changes settled in his mind, and he fully accepted his new looks like they had always been there. Even the water felt more erogenous, flowing against the thick hair. He looked for something to wear, but the only things that fit him now were a pair of athletic shorts, and an oversized t-shirt he brought in case he decided to work out. His stomach rumbled loudly, so he quickly went out to grab something to eat. On his way to the restaurant, he greeted both hotel staff, and guests cordially, feeling very at ease with the people surrounding him. His shy demeanor was slowly disappearing, letting out a more confident and friendly personality. He ordered a lot of food from the restaurant’s lunch menu, enjoying every bite with a newfound taste. His tolerance to chili had grown as well, his palate discovering new sensations that came together with the wide variety of spices being served in the local cuisine. Michael was about to order a third plate, when he heard a familiar voice yell at him from the distance. “Miguel! There you are! I was worried you weren’t going to survive the killer hangover,” said Iñigo approaching the table where the student was sitting. He looked different, wearing a skin-tight white shirt, open to expose his herculean chest. His jeans were sticking perfectly to his muscular legs, leaving nothing to Michael’s imagination about what the man was packing between his legs. Something about his greeting seemed strange to him though, but the infatuated student couldn’t point out what. “Hey Iñigo! What did you just call me?” “What do you mean? I said Michael, there you are. It seems some of the tequila’s blessings are still in your body!”, he said putting his heavy hand on Michael’s shoulders. “So, are you ready for your surprise today?” “What surprise? You told me we’re going to the vineyard, right?” “Ah, yes! I just didn’t tell you what we were going to do there!”, said Iñigo laughing. “But you’ll have to change clothes. That outfit is not suited for a day on the field. The ants will eat you alive.” “But they’re my only clothes left…”, said the student looking down embarrassed. He was already feeling a bit self-conscious on spending a day on his workout clothes, not to mention the rest of his wardrobe was rendered useless with his increased mass. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Hector to bring you some proper clothes to your room. Once you’re done changing, meet me at the entrance to the field at the back of the hotel.” Iñigo then walked back to the front desk, leaving Michael sitting on the table, wondering how that man could have anything he wanted with the click of his fingers. And true to his word, when he came back to the room, he found a bag of brand-new clothes waiting for him. A white shirt like the one Iñigo was wearing, alone with a pair of jeans, boots and a hat. The clothes looked big at first, but once he put the whole outfit on, he felt surprisingly comfortable. He took the onyx heart once again, putting it in his pocket, and left to meet Iñigo. The vineyard belonging to the hotel was immense. Row after row of grape vines painted the dry field green, giving it a fertile appearance. A small building on top of the hill overlooked the crops. Michael assumed that must be the winery, where they distilled the fruit to make the drinks. He approached the wooden arch that worked as the entrance, when he heard heavy steps coming his way. Within a cloud of dust, Iñigo appeared sitting on a gigantic black stallion. The animal was beautiful, both powerful and graceful, fitting for the handsome man sitting on top. Next to him was an equally big and gorgeous chocolate colored horse, with an empty saddle on top. “So, are you ready for our tour?”, said Iñigo. “Horseback riding? I can’t even drive a bicycle! What makes you think I’ll be able to control…that.”, said the student nodding towards the imposing beast. “It’s more intuitive than you think. Once you get on, you’ll feel you’ve been doing it your entire life.” Michael hesitated for an instant, a milliard of possible accidents flashing quickly on his mind. He looked at the horse, and both man and creature made eye contact. Suddenly, the student felt calm and confident, and decided to give it a shot. With a grace he didn’t know he had, he jumped on the horse, taking it by the reigns. “For someone who has never been on a horse, you sure look like a natural,'' said Iñigo checking the student out. He looked very attractive with his fitted white shirt and cowboy hat. “Follow me!”, he said and signaled his own stallion to gallop into the vineyard. Michael followed suit, using an instinct he didn’t know he had to guide the animal inside. Both men galloped for some time, enjoying the warm breeze and the bright sunlight. Michael was grabbing the reins with force, using his newfound strength to keep his body in the right positions. The movement of the horse was sending ripples across his body, making his muscles twitch and adapt in response. His forearms flexed and grew, sinewy muscle taking root in the previously slender limbs. He used one free hand to roll up the sleeves, exposing the hairy muscle to the hot exterior. His biceps bulged out too, growing stronger the more the student pulled the reins. His triceps grew as big as the horseshoes the beast had attached to its hooves, hanging down and stretching the sleeves to impossible limits. His shoulders rounded out and grew as big as cannon balls, proportionate to the arms they were now supposed to carry. He was using his legs to stabilize himself, squeezing the animal with strength. The thick fabric of his jeans started to stretch, giving away to the tree trunks that were replacing his legs. He felt more comfortable once his ass ballooned out making a perfect cushion for the hard saddle underneath. Once he caught up with Iñigo, he used all his might to stop the horse, pulling the reins and making it rear. The sudden display of strength made his chest puff out into two massive concrete slabs, bursting out from the upper part of his shirt and forming an almost obscene cleavage. His stomach hardened into a perfectly cut eight-pack, bulging with strength, and his back flared out almost ripping the rest of the shirt to shreds. “Woah! What a rrrush,” said Michael, rolling his tongue to pronounce the word. “I told you, you’re a natural,'' said Iñigo, getting off the horse. “Come with me. I want you to take a look at the fruits.” Both men entered one of the furthest rows of vines. Grapes hung from the plant’s cordons, giving some color to the otherwise green landscape. Iñigo took one fruit and tore it off, handing it to Michael. The student looked perplexed for a bit, worried they might get into trouble for damaging the plants. Iñigo saw Michael’s face, reading through his emotions, and smiled. “Don’t worry. No one is going to tell us anything.” “I’m sure a tour around the vineyard doesn’t include stealing some of the fruit.” “It’s not stealing if you own it,'' said Iñigo laughing. Michael opened both his eyes in surprise, everything about the mysterious Mexican man suddenly making sense. “Wait, so you own the vineyard? And the hotel?” “Well, not only me.”, he said, his gaze suddenly getting lost in the distance. “Who else?”, asked Michael, scratching his hairy pecs with his free hands. “No, just me. I got confused for a second,” said Iñigo, diverting his attention back to Michael. “Anyways, try it out and tell me your opinion.” Michael took the grape and put it in his mouth, its rich fruity flavor inundating his mind. He stayed quiet for a moment, his brain interpreting the taste and all the possible combinations with it. Iñigo leaned down playfully, looking for the student’s lost eyes. “And?” “Very tasty and rich in flavor. The tannins don’t taste that strong. It’s going to be a good crop. Malbec, right?” Iñigo smiled, partially surprised the student had such a wide viticulture. Michael smiled back at him, puffing out his chest proudly and standing straighter. He didn’t notice when his body stretched up a few inches. “Yes, it is. It’s the house’s specialty. We’re known for our wine’s rich and…” “…and spicy flavor. I know. Very impressive, Iñigo. Well done.” “If you want to try out some of the already prepared wine, let’s go to the winery. I assumed you would like wine, so I arranged a tasting for us.” “I love it. Thank you, Iñigo.”, said Michael taking the now shorter man’s hand, squeezing it tenderly. “Well, follow me then,'' said Iñigo, getting on his stallion and galloping uphill. Michael followed suit, and soon both men were entering the winery. The rich scent of freshly pressed grapes, wine and wood filled in their nostrils, as they made a small tour looking at the machinery and storage. The distillery was big enough to be the most important in town, with the wine getting exported nationally and internationally. Iñigo explained the process to make wine, and Michael listened carefully. A lot of things made more sense than he thought, almost like he was an expert oenologist himself. When they made it to the end of the tour, a small candle lit table was waiting for them next to the massive storage shelves filled with bottles. They sat on opposing sides, chatting gleefully about new production methods and marketing ideas. “I had no idea you’d be such a wine enthusiast”, said Iñigo taking a sip off his glass. “What can I say, wine culture is in my family.”, said Michael, his mind erasing the fact that his parents didn’t even drink. “And you, my friend, have truly made a name for yourself with this winery. Everything is exquisite.” Michael’s voice started to crack and drop, reaching a gruff bass deeper than Iñigo’s. His neck bulged out, thick cords of muscle climbing up from his traps to his head. “Only the best for you, my friend,'' said Iñigo, filling up the student’s glass. Both men looked up, staring at each other. Michael was finding it harder and harder not to throw himself on the Mexican man, and judging by his face, so was Iñigo. “So, Miguel, how have you liked your trip?” “Well, I certainly love the town. It’s filled with good people. Not to mention the rich cultural heritage.” “Tell me, what has been your favorite part?”, Iñigo asked, already knowing the answer. Neither one of them realized the conversation shifted naturally to Spanish, Michael speaking perfectly in the tonality of the region. “Well, the food is definitely tastier and richer, the architecture exquisite, a testament to both colonial and Mexican artistry, and the artistic talent lurking around every corner. I couldn’t possibly just choose one.” He stayed quiet for a moment, admiring Iñigo’s handsome face. “If I had to choose… I would choose you. You made the whole trip magical. I wish it wouldn’t end.” “It doesn’t have to,'' said Iñigo, getting closer. “You could stay. I’d like you to stay.” Michael looked down for a bit, a glimmer of his sorrow still present inside of him. “I can’t… I need to go back home.” “Why? You could start fresh here! Live a new life, and leave your past behind.” Michael’s head was spinning. Part of him was still attached to his pain, almost addicted to it. The pain he used as an excuse not to move forward, to stay tacit and not look for change. Even if that change brought happiness with it. But another part of him was telling him he belonged there. He could make his life, and the life of others, much better if he just let go off the past. The black stone in his pocket was pulsing, balancing the energy inside his body. Soon, the part of him that was frozen in the past started to get smaller, its voice drowning in the shine of the possible future. He was ready to take that leap of faith, and find a new destiny. Without saying a word, he got up and threw himself at Iñigo, their mouths interlocking in a passionate kiss. With a mighty push of his arm, he wiped the wooden table off the glasses and plates, and both men threw themselves on the sturdy surface, which miraculously stayed in one piece, supporting the weight of both massive bodies. Michael explored every corner of the Mexican man’s mouth, tasting the sweet aftermath of the wine. His jaw cracked and grew like a cinder block, ending with a cleft chin worthy of a superhero. The rough shadow of his beard stayed the same length, but a majestic handlebar of a mustache blossomed on his upper lip. He descended on Iñigo’s neck, biting and licking it, filling his lungs with the man’s strong scent. He could practically taste the wooden smell, along with the intoxicating natural musk product of an afternoon in the hot sunlight. Iñigo grabbed the student’s body with his both hands, feeling the vast expanse of his muscular back underneath his palms. With ease, Michael tore Iñigo’s shirt open, exposing a chiseled torso worthy of a renaissance marble sculpture. The light caramel tone of his skin only accentuated the deep cuts of his muscle. It wasn’t as massive as Michael’s, but much more meticulously sculpted to the point of obsession. He descended further, licking the man’s hard chest and tasting the salty flavor of fresh sweat. Michael’s face changed further, cracking and growing to match his new size. His brow was pronounced over his eyes, and his nose cracked and grew thicker, giving him a much rougher appearance than Iñigo. The hair on his head darkened, finally matching the pelt on his body, and styled itself into an elegant side part. Iñigo tore the student’s shirt open too, exposing the hairy mountains underneath. Even his back was hairy, sporting its own dark dusting. Michael’s pecs were round and heavy, less defined than Iñigo’s, but much more powerful-looking. He had to tear the sleeves apart, because the gargantuan arms wouldn’t fit through the openings anymore. Once Michael made it to the Mexican’s crotch, he swiftly undid the button and took his pants away, exposing some tight silk briefs with a massive bulge inside. Playfully, he bit the elastic and pulled it down, and Iñigo’s overgrown penis jumped out, almost slapping him on the face. With dexterity, he took the entire member inside his mouth and began massaging it with his tongue. Iñigo’s deep moans resonated through the rows of shelves, as he relished in the feelings that were spreading from his loins. Michael started to taste the flavor of the Mexican’s essence, which triggered another phase in his change. His muscles thickened and grew some more, gaining a layer of healthy fat over them. His stomach bulged out like a tortoise’s shell, worthy of a strongman more than a bodybuilder. His chest got heavier, and his ass bulged out further into a massive boulder. Then, his pale skin started to darken, acquiring the characteristic caramel tone of a Latin man. His features rearranged to cement his new heritage. After some minutes, he stopped sucking Iñigo’s manhood, and took off his own jeans, exposing his underwear. A small tent could be seen inside, the last remainder of his old body. In an impressive display of strength, he turned Iñigo around, took off his underwear, and started to rub himself against the man’s hard bubble butt. He got on top of him, their faces meeting once again, and tenderly kissed the Mexican’s cheek whilst opening his way inside of Iñigo. The Mexican man grunted; the slight pain being swiftly replaced by pleasure jolts that travelled across his body. Michael started to pump harder, his own deep moans overshadowing the other man’s. The pressure in the student’s own member started to grow, filling it with more blood and filling it beyond its limit. Thrust after thrust the manhood grew, until Michael had a penis comparable to a wine bottle. Iñigo was squirming underneath the much bigger man, his body almost unable to handle so much pleasure. Michael’s balls swelled as well, dropping lower and hitting the Mexican’s hamstrings in a constant rhythm. The overexposure to new hormones changed Michael’s body further. Muscles aged, looking more lived in. His skin roughened up some more, and sprinkles of white extended all over his body hair. His hairline receded, and his mustache acquired a gray hue. Crow’s feet extended from his eyes, giving the man’s new age away. With a powerful thrust, he inundated the Mexican’s gut with his seed, both men screaming in ecstasy. He fell on top of Iñigo, who finished a couple of times on the table. Both men were sweating profusely, the scent of sex almost overtaking the wine’s fruity smell. They cuddled in silence for a bit, enjoying the last orgasmic ripples leaving their bodies. “So, I hope I could convince you to stay,'' said Iñigo, rubbing his face against the bigger man’s hairy chest. “How could I leave? This is my home.”, said Michael, the new memories slowly overwriting his old ones. After getting dressed, both men left towards the hotel. Iñigo entered the room with Michael, and the two of them joined in passionate lovemaking the rest of the night, with the pale moon as their only witness watching peacefully from the big windows. When Michael opened his eyes, he was standing on the top of a green hill. The sun was shining, and he could feel the fresh spring breeze on his face. On top of the hill was a tree, and underneath its shadow laid Will, with his arms behind his head and his gaze fixed on the sky, watching the white clouds pass. The student walked towards the tree, and sat in the shade next to him. “This is it? The end? For your life?”, asked Will without looking at Michael. “No, Will. This is a new opportunity.” “Lucky you. You still have an opportunity.”, answered Will sarcastically, looking at Michael’s peaceful face. “So, what’s gonna happen to me?” Michael took a deep breath, enjoying the almost forgotten peace he so much craved. “You’re going to live inside of me. All the memories, all the experiences, all the laughs and jokes and surprises will be forever in my heart. But also, the grief, the loss, the impotence. I will never forget what you taught me.” Will looked at Michael quizzically, a hint of doubt still lurking behind his eyes. “I need to tell you one last thing. I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry for not being the strong pillar you needed. I’m sorry for letting my own demons blind me from your pain. And most of all, I’m sorry for not expressing enough how accompanied you were. You were never alone. I need you to understand that. You were loved, and cared for. Despite what you might think, I was always there for you.”, said Michael, a tear slowly sliding down his cheek. “I forgive you. And, please, forgive me. I’m going to start a new life, and I need to let you go.” Will smiled, his somber demeanor fading away and leaving his usual playful side behind. “You were always the sentimental one. Fine, you have my blessing.”, he said standing up and heading down the hill. Before fading from view, he looked back at Michael. “You deserve to be happy. Glad you finally understood it.” And with that, he disappeared into the distance. Michael stood up and stretched. He felt the new weight on his body, and when he looked down he was greeted by his new form. His powerful chest was blocking his view from the lower side of his body, and he could feel his mustache quiver in the wind. He took one last breath, and let himself be swallowed by the sunlight. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer Michael, but Miguel. He looked to his side, to find Iñigo laying next to him, still sleeping. He got up and observed his surroundings. The room looked slightly changed, more lived in. The big closet was filled to the brim with different suits, boots and hats. The bathroom sink was full of lotions, creams and shaving utensils. Staring in the mirror he saw himself for the first time since the change. He looked imposing and regal, like a true gentleman. He stroked his thick mustache, feeling its softness with his fingers. He heard Iñigo groaning, so he headed into the room. Iñigo stared at him with his dark brown eyes, with the same infatuation from the first day they met. “Buenos días, amor,'' he said, getting up and planting a sweet kiss on the older man’s lips. Suddenly, Miguel’s mind filled in the holes of his new life. He was Miguel Rosales de la Fuente, owner of the hotel Real de Rosales, along with its vineyard and winery. A true staple in San Miguel de Allende’s society, and Iñigo de la Fuente’s husband. He felt the gold wedding ring on his finger, remembering the day he first saw Iñigo when he arrived in town almost thirty years ago. He was fresh out of university, and Iñigo was barely entering adulthood. He stayed in the de la Fuente’s family hostel, and soon grew fascinated with the town. He put his education to good use, and founded the winery. The hotel came afterwards, and soon the entire town revered him as a mentor. He was responsible for the many restoration processes all over town. He loved it, and did his best in keeping it in shape. Iñigo declared his love with many serenatas, and soon both men were tying the knot in an alternative ceremony. It was decades later when they were finally able to officialize their marriage, and they have been living and travelling the world ever since. Miguel liked to come back to town from time to time, always staying in his hotel. “Buenos días, cielo,'' said Miguel embracing the shorter man. “What’s your plan for today?” “I told Hector I would show him his new workout regime. The kid is growing big.” “I know, I’ve had to buy a couple of new uniforms for him this year alone.”, said Miguel flexing his biceps absentmindedly. “Mind if I join you? I need to let out some steam before the many scheduled reunions today. Gotta meet with the mayor for a new trash recycling plan, and if I don’t lift heavy, I’m going to have a difficult time keeping my temper.” “Sure! I’m certain Hector will appreciate having you around. Sometimes I feel you’re the one he takes seriously.” “It's probably because the mass impresses him!”, said Miguel laughing loudly, puffing out his chest. “You’re the expert in training, not me.” “That much is true. Let’s go then, you don’t wanna be late to your meetings. And we both know how much time you need to actually get ready.” Iñigo headed into the bathroom to wash himself, and Miguel approached the window, watching the whole vineyard before him. He really made a difference when he decided to stay in San Miguel de Allende. It was truly a magical town. He looked back at the bedside table. The onyx heart was laying there, its smooth surface glistening. Miguel smiled, thanking it quietly. Despite having adopted a new life, a last vestige of the person he used to be remained inside of him, to remind him how precious life was, and how you can always find a new destiny in the most unexpected places.
  3. BrawnyBound

    m/m The Flashback Machine

    Part 1: "You, uh, need a hand carrying that in?" Bruce asked. He scratched his balding head as he watched Aaron haul the enormous piece of equipment all by himself. Aaron simply grunted in response. Despite being in his 50's, he managed to retain most of his hard-earned muscles from his college days through diligent training. And even though he could barely wrap his meaty arms around the length of the monitor, Aaron showed no struggle carrying the machine into the frat house. "I think he's got it," Philip replied lamely. The two watched as Aaron's wide back disappeared into the dark building. Aaron was dressed in a tank top and basketball shorts that hugged his rugged body nicely, and was probably one of the few among his alumni brothers that could pull off that look so casually. Bruce, for example, was a victim among many with his slowing metabolism and widening beer belly. He sighed as he mentally compared himself to Aaron and glanced down at the gut stretching his dress shirt, subconsciously tucking his thumbs under suspender straps. Philip, however, had the opposite problem. He was never able to gain much weight for as long as he remembered. He was so thin his brothers used to joke that he could easily hide behind a telephone pole without having to turn. Even now, Philip looked at his own loose, billowing semi-formal clothes, feeling like he could blow away if the wind wanted him to. The two were broken out of their self-loathing by the sound of a soft thud coming from inside the frat house. They filed in, Philip tracing his hand on the wall for the light switch. Bruce couldn't help but notice a musty smell in the humid air. With a flick, the main room of the frat house they once called home lit up around them. It was surprisingly tidy, although that was only because it was still summer, and most of the fraternity brothers were still on vacation. The furniture, walls, and floors, however, could not hide their age no matter how well-kept it was. Aaron had his arms on his hips as he stood by a cluster of old sofas with his device plopped down in the center facing them. "Well, I told ya the house was still standing." "Barely." Bruce remarked, glancing at the peeling paint on the walls. "It's a surprise to see they haven't made plans on remodeling, or hell, getting a new house altogether." Philip said, grimacing at the old stains on the floor. "That's why I invited you guys here. Since you guys both said you'll be too busy for homecoming-" "Work." Bruce grunted. "Family vacation." Philip chimed in. Aaron held his hands up in mock-surrender. "I know, I know. But since you guys will be pre-occupied like you are every year, I wanted to discuss the alumni dues so that we can-" Bruce groaned. "/That's/ why you invited us here? I thought we were going to hang and catch up over beer and football like old times." He tried to cross his arms but failed so he put his hands on his hips like Aaron did; though he seemed much less intimidating. Philip rolled his eyes. He looked like he was already thinking of excuses to get out of this situation. "Now hold on, hold on." Aaron said, his voice firm. "We /are/ going to catch up. I /know/ alumni dues are completely voluntary, and I /know/ that we're all building up our savings for early retirement like the next guy. But I want to give back to the organization that helped make me who I am today." Bruce could swear he saw Aaron puff up his chest a little. "And I thought," Aaron continued, "what better way to show why we should care about the future generations than to present them on this invention." He patted the top of the strange monitor. Bruce took a closer look at the machine. It somewhat resembled a CRT television, but the frame was purple and translucent. 'Like the special edition GameBoy Color,' Bruce thought. 'Did old TV's always have so many wires?' On top of the monitor, a bundle of multi-colored wires from the back collected together and funneled into the small end of what seemed to be an old-fashioned ear trumpet made of copper. The large end of the ear trumpet faced the front like a strange speaker. Below the screen, instead of buttons or dials there was an exhaust vent of some sort. Bruce thought it was strange as those little holes were usually on the back. The portly man gave a bemused smirk. "Come on Aaron, we may be old but even /I/ know this is junk. The boys are gonna laugh at your sad excuse of a donation." "I didn't know you still 'invented' things," said Philip with a stifled chuckle. "Yeah I thought you gave up on making those silly doo-hickeys freshman year," Bruce added. Aaron's proud stance faltered for a moment as he nervously glanced at the unplugged machine, then looking visibly relieved. "It's not for watching football or anything like that," he said. "It's-" he paused, thinking for a second. "It's a device that lets us replay our favorite memories on screen." Without further hesitation he crouched around the 'doo-hickey' and got to work plugging everything in. "Here, let me show you." The two guests looked at each other with skepticism. If this was a chance to make fun of another one of Aaron's failed inventions, they didn't want to miss it. 'Just like old times,' thought Bruce. Philip tapped his foot impatiently and Bruce huffed as he sat down on one of the couches right in the middle. Bruce couldn't help but stare at what Aaron was currently "showing" as his pert ass shifted and swayed in those stretched-out shorts while the TV was being set up. Suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone, Bruce glanced at Philip, who met eyes with him. He was caught in the act. Philip started to say something when the TV suddenly lit up and presented nothing but static and a soft *kssshhhh* noise. "There!" Aaron announced. The three of them stared at the screen, waiting in anticipation. "Soooo... now what?" Said Philip. About two seconds later, the screen changed to show the main room of the frat house, but from Philip's point of view. "Soooo... now what?" His voice mimed from the screen. "Woah! How'd you do that?" Philip exclaimed, whirling around and checking himself for a hidden camera. The screen copied his words and spun around with him. "Big deal. It can record and play a live feed," Bruce grumbled. The TV instantly changed and was now showing the room from Bruce's perspective. His replayed voice sounded equally unimpressed. "It- it can also play whatever memory we request," Aaron added, his voice sounding slightly panicked. He took a quick breath and then continued more calmly. "Right now, it's playing whatever surface level memories are presented from the last person that spoke." And on cue, the TV replayed his explanation. "Okay, take it away, Mr. Inventor." Bruce gestured to the screen. Aaron's eyes glimmered for a moment before facing the monitor. The machine repeated Bruce, almost as if to give Aaron permission to use it himself. Aaron straightened himself up and spoke clearly into the ear trumpet. "Show us my sophomore year Halloween party." The lights above flickered as the screen sputtered between static and blurred images as if a poorly-focused time lapse video was being played. After a few moments, the screen became clearer, and the trio was presented with the sight of a veiny, pumped forearm pushing a door open to reveal the frat house's main room, garishly decorated with an assortment of Halloween props, lit by blinding orange, green, and purple strobe lights. The new furniture was pushed to the walls as the center floor was brimming with bodies shaking to the music and hands exploring wherever they landed. Several people, to the shock of the viewers, were recognized as their old fraternity brothers. Except they were all young and carefree, some dancing, some flirting with sorority girls, and some doing things their parents probably wouldn't approve of. Most of the party goers were dressed, if you could call it that, in costumes that showed as much skin as possible. "Hey! There's me!" Bruce pointed at the screen. Young Bruce was no exception. Sloppily painted head-to-toe in green and clad in purple trunks, the man was quite a hunk. While not the tallest brother in the fraternity, he was definitely one of the biggest, and he liked to flaunt it. Even then, he had the slight hint of a beer gut beginning to emerge underneath his cut abs. Old Bruce thought it was strange seeing his young self acting so... fratty, but didn't complain with what he saw. The chicks loved him. And he loved them. As if hearing his thoughts, the younger and slimmer version of Bruce eyed the screen and his face lit up. He hollered something over the loud music and waved. The "camera" bobbed up and down in response as it made it's way through the house, greeting the brothers and other party guests in a similar gesture. The screen seemed to pan in every direction, as if looking for someone, until it landed on Philip. "And there's me." Philip gasped, now sitting. The screen advanced on Young Philip who was leaning with his back and one foot against the wall, one hand in his pocket, and holding a cup of spiked punch in the other. He meekly raised his cup at the screen with a small smile and then took a sip, staring back at the crowd. Unlike the others, he was dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks. "Hah! Phil you look like you haven't changed a bit. You're still as skinny as you were so many years ago!" Bruce guffawed and slapped his knee, clearly enjoying his jabs at Philip, who now looked like he wanted to be swallowed up by the sofa cushions. "Actually," Aaron began, "I think he's been looking a lot healthier." They both stared at him, puzzled. "I mean, you really packed on quite a bit of muscles since then. It's- it's all because of that diet and weight training routine you started in sophomore year wasn't it?" The lights flickered slightly but nobody paid mind to it. Bruce couldn't see anything in his peripheral vision for a brief moment. When the light returned, he turned to look at his brother again. "Phil-" Bruce started, but his jaw dropped. Beside him was still his fraternity brother, only he seemed different. His clothes were not loose, his posture oozed confidence, and his presence was more notable. It was like he had a stronger gravitational pull. "Wha-" Bruce tried to speak, but suddenly it felt like two plus two didn't equal four. "Actually," Aaron said again, "Bruce was right about one thing," he spoke slowly. "Phil, you don't look a day over twenty-five. Not a single wrinkle on that baby-face of yours. How'd you do it? Was it the skin care brand you work for?" He paused, glancing at the screen. "It was your investment in that company when you finished your major in business, wasn't it? You mentioned you were interested in it at this party, I think." The ceiling lights dimmed, then turned back to normal. "Yea I... Oh, I think our young selves are talking about it right now!" Philip directed his attention back to the TV. Bruce tore his eyes from Philip's body and looked at the screen. Sure enough, the camera was now half-watching the party and half-turned to Philip as young Aaron spoke with him. The camera seemed to peer down at Aaron's feet or look at the party whenever Philip smiled or laughed. Aaron whistled and sat back on the other neighboring couch. "Wow, I guess I never noticed it back then, but that workout plan really did wonders on your body early on, too." Aaron murmured. "It's a good thing you never broke your habit from the routine." . The lights flickered harshly this time. Bruce watched, rapt as the camera blinked and then focused on young Philip and his B-list superhero costume, the sexy version of course, now standing proudly on his own two feet and towering over Aaron. He was animatedly talking about his career plans, but his bare abs seemed to be the new point of emphasis for the camera. It wandered to the small but firm pecs wrapped tight in spandex along with his disproportionately huge upper arms and bulging legs. Bruce felt something stirring underneath his gut. He shook his head. 'Wait, wasn't Philip dressed in...' His train of thought halted at the sight of the hulking stud next to him. Philip was now leaning back, his gorilla-like arms slightly akimbo from his wide lats. His dress shirt was trying to keep everything together, but it looked like the buttons would pop if he simply took a deep breath. It stretched obscenely over his rounded, stuffed pecs and shoulders that were bigger than his own head. Even his traps rose above the couch cushions. The slacks did not look like they were faring any better as Bruce could make out the separations in the quadriceps through the thin fabric. "It all comes at a price, though," Philip mused, looking down at himself. "One of the side effects of the lotion is that it removes any body hair, permanently. Good thing I never need to moisturize my pits." He raised both arms overhead; two rips slowly drawn out as his lats pushed their way out from the constricting shirt. More rips were heard in quick succession as the sleeves tore apart between his biceps and triceps and from his shoulders. And he was right: while completely hairless anywhere else except for the curly locks on his head, his cavernous armpit still had some tufts of hair. "Ahh, that felt so good. Which reminds me," he continued, lowering his beefy arms, "it also makes everything really sensitive." He spread his legs and pushed them forward a little, the bulge in his groin swelling bigger and bigger. Bruce gulped at the lewd display. 'Was Philip making a pass because of what he saw earlier?' "It's a good thing," Aaron started, trying to find his words, "it's a good thing nobody ever minded how much or how little clothing you wore." Morph by Hardtrainer01 "That's true." Philip nonchalantly agreed, grabbing a handful of his overflowing underwear and scratching his exposed pecs. "Besides, finding clothes that would fit me is such a bother." He raised one arm to play with his hair, but every little movement sent his 20+ inch biceps bouncing, inviting Bruce to stare. "I bet you have a similar problem with clothes, huh Bruce?" "Uh, huh?" Bruce now realized he spent the better half of the last few moments drooling over Phil's smooth, jacked body. His hefty cock was still plumping up and clearly visible through the underwear, and his nipples, free from any constraints, already looked erect. Suck-able, even. "Yea- I mean- no. Not quite. You two can easily shop at the Big and Tall store; I just shop at Big." The brothers chuckled at this, then returned their attention to the monitor. Bruce tried to as well, but his gut was telling him that something was very wrong, and looking at Philip might shed some light. It wasn't because he was insanely hot and practically inviting him to do gay shit. No, maybe if he looked long enough he would figure it out. But Phil's sideways glance and smirk was all that was needed to make the man blush and turn back to the screen. He liked ladies, damnit! He has a wife at home! And speaking of ladies, he watched with reassurance as the sorority girls flocked to young Bruce and felt up his muscles. "Bro, I just realized why you picked this year's party." Bruce sat up and grinned at Aaron. "This was the fucking year we invited every single sorority sister-" "Sisters' polyamorous boyfriends!" Aaron finished. "Dude, what- no. We..." The lights flickered. Once, twice, and on the third time a bulb broke somewhere behind them. When Bruce turned to look back at the screen, he didn't see any sorority girls around him. Instead he was now sulking near the camera with Aaron and Philip, absentmindedly sipping from his punch. The dance floor was still populated by a couple college girls, but most of them were taken. Young Philip and young Aaron sounded like they were trying to cheer him up, keeping him company. Bruce was touched that he had such an unbreakable bond with them. Whenever they rough-housed, Bruce always ended up being sandwiched between their testosterone-laden bodies. On the outside, he was just another straight macho bro. But between those two towering studs, Bruce was putty in their hands. He fantasized about women, sure, but nothing made him harder than the thought of Aaron's funky gym smell rubbing off on him as he pilfered his roommate's dirty stretched-out laundry, or Philip's sweaty and pumped body, fresh from his rigorous workout, pressed against his during a wrestling match. And while other brothers were skeptical that he never found a wife, Aaron and Philip never once gave him shit for it. Even though he trusted them with anything about his life, he'd never let them know how hot and bothered they made him whenever they were around. Even now, Bruce swore under his breath as he felt the cool tingle at the tip of his dick, a spurt of pre-cum leaking into his trousers. "Well, it made sense, considering how our fraternity only recruits bi and gay men." Aaron explained. "Wait, what?" To be continued... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey everyone! Thank you for all your kind comments on my last story. I was recently inspired again, and wanted to play around with a genre that I've always enjoyed: reality changing. I didn't really do as much scene-hopping as I did with my other story, and my writing in the 3rd person (limited) is still a little rusty, but I hope that the pacing and language comes across smoothly. I realized as I started writing that this couldn't be a one-shot like my last story, however. The ideas just keep coming! So this will split into several parts. Feedback is always welcomed, and hit that follow button to- *lights out*
  4. muscledrain

    muscle theft The Hourglass

    INTRODUCTION So, this is a real monster of a story. When I started it, I really had no idea how it would expand and expand. I just kept adding onto it. Initially, it was a story that encapsulated my love for older muscle men, but I expanded that with more younger college aged characters as I went on. The entire thing has really been a labor of love. The thing I wanted to get out of the way first was that when you write a story, sometimes characters just pop out of nowhere and that happened several times for me. I don't have any political motives in my story, in fact I'm pretty hopelessly centrist. For instance, I have a Middle Eastern character and that really doesn't have any deeper meaning other than I honestly wanted a Middle Eastern character but his interactions with other characters aren't really influenced by that fact. That having been said, I couldn't write a college story taking place today without commenting on a few of the trends I've seen in the news, and I think I either lightly poke fun of them or use them as plot points early on. I want to get this out of the way now because I'm really not making any huge commentary here, but I needed a way for my villain to be villainous, in so many words. It's hard to create a good villain, it's probably much harder for me to write bad guys than anything else. The question of who do I want the villain to be? arose early on. Originally I was going to have this much darker story, but changed it when I realized that my characters were getting much deeper and more fleshed out than my perverse fantasies at first made them out to be. They became something different and in following them around, I realized I couldn't really hate any of them 100% but in the case of my villain, I really wanted the audience to hate him right off the bat. It just makes it easier to absorb (if you'll pardon the pun) what's happening to him. This story encompasses many muscle story themes, ranging from revenge and muscle theft to age progression and regression to reality alteration, as well as gay to straight and straight to gay transformations. None of this particular story involves minors, but there are some non sexual flashbacks early on to earlier childhood and teen memories. I hope you enjoy this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'll be continuing to edit this story throughout the next 24 hours so if you want more, don't worry. There's 26 chapters I have written so far and they will be coming shortly. This story is almost done, and stands right now at about 250 pages. I see it as about 4/5ths of the way done. I will probably finish it up by next weekend. Thanks so much, and I promised myself I would start reading all the other stories here in the Muscleversary category only after I finished my own, to give me an incentive to get it done. I will hopefully enjoy all your wonderful stories sometime soon. Derek THE HOURGLASS PROLOGUE It was a black and white sort of night, between the light fall of snow on the ground and the dark sky devoid of any color, and the bright, blinding light of a street lamp illuminating Connor Swogger aka “The Swagger” as he lit up a big cigar that curled smoke up into the night. Cody looked up at the much bigger man, who posed a formidable figure. The Swagger wore a heavy leather jacket and looked down at Cody, who stood a full foot beneath the football quarterback and captain of his team. Cody smiled nervously. This was The Fucking Swagger and you did not fuck up around The Swagger. Connor Swagger was as beautiful and masculine as they came. His black hair was neatly cut in a conservative 50s look, slicked with pomade, parted at the side and combed up in the center with not a hair out of place. He had a classically model looks. His face was perfectly proportioned. Half-Italian and Half-Anglo heritage gave him a perpetual light tan to compliment all his features. Nose not too big. Intense eyes that saw everything and when you saw him, you avoided his gaze. He had that kind of look. Hawkish. His eyes drilled holes into you. A powerful ridge over his eyebrows. His ears were equally well-proportioned. Not too big. His jaw was strong and he had a small cleft in the middle. Perfect shade of stubble. And for the lucky women that got to bed him, he exploded in the muscle department. His arms were so big and well defined it was like watching two giant scoops of ice cream piled on either arm, of pure muscle. His chest was voluminous and perfect. His shoulders, like cobra hoods, lifted any light shirt above his neck in a quite intimidating fashion. His voice, which approached the gravelly and bordered on the kind of sexy where women or gay men would practically vie just for the chance to hear whatever words came out of his luscious mouth, finally spoke: “So you want to come in?” “Yeah, I’d..I’d like to.” “We don’t let just anyone in to an Alpha Beta Omega party.” Connor held his cigar thoughtfully in the air, watching the smoke curl up in the freezing air. “What does your family do?” “My father is an engineer. My mother just works at a plant nursery. But I’m a straight A student and I know I’m going places. Sir.” The little man stood at only 5’4”. Face that looked older than his 19 years. Had a bit of a receding hairline and closely cropped light ginger hair. He had a desperate look on his face. He looked like a tall ginger midget with buck teeth. “You know who you look like?” “S-sir?” “You look like a taller version of Mini Me. From Austin Powers.” “Yeah..I…I..” “Look if you want something to partake in, we can help you with that, but I can guarantee you that no girl in there is gonna touch you with a ten foot pole. Just look at you.” The little man looked unsure and ashamed. Is the little puss gonna cry? “I just thought maybe I could mingle-“ “Stop. Did you hear what I said?” “Yes, but-“ “There are no buts with me. You heard what I said. So there it is.” “Look,” the little man continued, trying to put his game face on. What was his name? Dave? Cory? “I know I look little but I am on my way to big things. How would you like an all expenses paid vacation to the Bahamas? I have a cousin down there who can take care of you and-“ “Stop. You’re boring me.” Connor took a drag of his Macanudo. “My stepfather is rich as fuck. I can go anywhere in the world on his credit card. Hell, I could take a vacation to Paris to celebrate getting up in the morning. How are you at physics?” “I…I’m really really good.” “Great. You’re going to write Randy’s physics homework by next Friday. He’ll give you the details. You got cash?” “Yeah. I uh…do you guys have coke?” the little man asked, not realizing he gave away his own uncertainty and anxiety away in his voice. “Yes, we do. That oughtta cover it.” Connor counted the roll of bills. “In exchange for the paper you will be allowed in. I also have a paper due by Wednesday. How are you at history?” “Great! What do you need? What’s it on?” “The Spanish Civil War and its portrayal in two films, Pan’s Labyrinth and Belle Epoque. Think you can handle that?” “Film papers are a snap, Mr. Swogger. Sir.” “You are going to write that paper. In exchange, Mackenzie here will introduce you to some of the girls. Do not say anything stupid. Do not bring up any nerd crap about hobbits, wrestling, toys, roleplaying, or your collection of literally anything.” Connor bit into his cigar and inhaled so the cherry of it glowed red, the only color that Cody could see. “Yes, sir. That’s why you’re the boss, sir.” “And you are scientific proof that beta males exist. Take him inside.” “I’m very excited to be here. You guys are the coolest..” as the little man lagged behind Mackenzie, Connor turned to Randy and said: “I’m gonna need to take a few of the boys over to see someone. Keep an eye on the party while I’m gone. Do not let anyone who is unauthorized into the coke room. And I mean NO one.” “I won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” “Put Nunez to work setting up some beer pong. Get the good wine out. It’s gonna be that kind of night.” Connor chewed his cigar. It was a rare vice he allowed himself. He was addicted to nothing in this world so much as controlling others and he did it with ease. Across the campus, a fresh layer of snow piling up as it began to fall lightly over the three fraternity brothers. His two cohorts, Sammy McCabe and Jeff Hobson were two of Connor’s closest football and fraternity brothers. They saw eye to eye on things. More importantly, they always followed Connor’s lead. They walked to the 24 hour library, past the circulation desk with the lone employee stationed there this time of night, a future spinster fat chick with glasses who completely ignored them as she went through a stack of books. Third floor and to the left, all the way down was a room. No one was in the entire building. Friday nights were generally abandoned until the week before midterms. Inside a room, which thankfully wasn’t glass (60s era architecture allowed for more privacy than modern architecture) he found two men hunched over a table and whispering to each other. One immediately got up and whispered an apology. “What the hell is this?” a man in glasses exclaimed. “Here he is, as promised,” the second man, a sophomore who wanted to pledge as Alpha Beta Omega told Connor. “Good man, we’ll take it from here,” Connor said as the future pledge slipped out and Connor’s goons closed and blocked the only doorway. The small study room was dimly lit by one small orange lamp hanging from the ceiling. “Who are you? What do you want?” “Richardson, right? Max Richardson?” Connor began. “Yeah, what’s it to you? What is this all about? Are you idiots trying to intimidate me or something?” He immediately came across as a weaker man. Black hair, possible Jew. Big glasses. Obviously gay. Slightly effeminate. He put his arms on the desk for support so he could stare directly at Connor. “We just need to have a little chat about your plans. See, it’s become known you want to form a little protest.” “Yeah. That’s my right. Constitutional amendment about free speech. Might wanna…look it up.” He was getting nervous now. He could feel it in the room. He was alone and it was nearly midnight. No one could see him or hear him. He reached for his phone and Connor plucked it out of his hands with a smile and handed it to McCabe. “Now then. Where were we? Let’s talk about your plans to protest the school for racism, sexism, and homophobia. And what else, you want Yeoman University to be a sanctuary school for illegal immigrants?” Connor began listing things off as he knew them, without consulting any paper. He had this part memorized. “You want to create an environment where students can feel free to express themselves with safe spaces. Well, that’s good. Are you in a safe space now, Max?” “I don’t know what you think this is but I’m going to tell people about it.” A little more frantic in the voice now. Good, good. “I’ll answer that for you. See, there are no safe spaces. Life isn’t a safe space. And up here in the far north? We only care about three things. Football. Getting grants for the school. And the prestige that comes with hobnobbing with the class of American’s finest. That doesn’t include the janitor you want to give a Tesla car to because of your socialist mess of a belief system.” “What I want is for everyone to have justice and equality and those are things you probably don’t understand.” “Oh, I understand. See, I’m majoring in business. Which is like majoring in the Real World. You are majoring in some kind of bullshit Pretend World arts degree where you can just imagine that life isn’t ruled by certain factors. One of those is we are this school. We. As in the rich kids who come here and fund everything. And this school is very old and has a lot of investment in not becoming like other schools where little bitches like you run around screaming your gay asses off and try to run shit by publicly demanding that the Dean and Vice-Dean bow to your every whim for fear of being deemed racist, sexist and homophobic. It’s amazing what a little taste of power does. See, some people can handle it. Some people aren’t meant to. You’re one of the latter.” “Yeah well I’m still gonna tell everyone about this and I’m gonna bring a judiciary hearing against all three of you and-“ Connor held up his hand to silence him. “Please stop. I’m not one of your moronic minions. I have something to show you.” As Connor was speaking, McCabe got out a folding laptop out of his backpack and flipped it on. “I want you to tell me if any of these look familiar. Any of these conversations where you were talking about all the dirty little things that turn you on.” “Oh my GOD.” Max’s eyes went wide. “How did you get these! That’s private. Those are private!” He pointed a finger at Connor. “Don’t you know there is no more privacy? Now there was this guy in Iceland and you told him that you would love nothing more than to be his little woman, to dress up in lingerie for him, be his little whore, even be his slave girl, and it just goes on and on. Oh and here you say that you wouldn’t mind if a…well you say some really raunchy things here. Not to mention highly illegal! I don’t even want to repeat them. You even distributed illegal materials. Where did you even get those pictures? And if your parents ever saw this particular passage, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t ever be the same in their eyes again.” “There was no guy in Iceland,” Max said softly. “No, dude. That was me,” Hobson answered coldly. “What do you want?” Max was now at his mercy. He’d be willing to do anything now. “You’re going to stop any and all anarchic bullshit. No bullhorns. No social justice on campus. No anti-establishment nonsense. And especially no criticism of this school or the people that run it. Do we understand each other, Max?” “Perfectly,” Max said, trying to be calm. “Great. In addition, you will report any and all subversive activities directly to me and the Dean. You will do this via email or in person, depending on what I direct you to do. You’re not going to make many friends with this BS anyway. People are sick of that shit. They come to this school to get away from that shit. That guilting, nanny-state coddling that makes simpering morons and cowards into heroes. It elevates the undeserving and tries to put them on a pedestal as if they were the same as real men like myself and my colleagues, or real women like my girlfriend who plans on being a wife and mother someday. And maybe she’ll do some work online. That’s what God intended when he made people. One man and one woman are what a real marriage looks like and why it’s so hard for you people to understand is beyond me.” “You think you’re so much better? Look at you. You’re a bunch of bullies and hypocrites pretending like you should just do whatever you want because you’re on the fucking football team? Fuck you. You’re nothing more than a…pathetic coward yourself.” Max didn’t really have a lot of oomph in his speech and if anything it seemed bitchy. “You’re not the Mafia, you know.” “No, but I have respect for what those men do.” “Of course you do,” Max said, amused. “Because they have a code. And they stick by it.” Connor walked around the table to bend down and look Max in the eye, looking at him with a scolding look and speaking in a scolding tone as if he was with a child. “And if I were you, Max, I wouldn’t talk that way to my superiors.” And with that he sucker punched Max straight in the gut. Max made a terrible small sound, the wind having been knocked out of him and he was grasping again for air. He whimpered and cried as he crumpled on the floor. “Don’t ever call me pathetic or a coward again, or I’ll take one of your body parts with me next time as a fucking trophy. We’re done here.” Connor came back to Alpha Beta Omega as if nothing had occurred. He told everyone to have fun. He encouraged drinking and debauchery. He hooked a few people up he thought would love to have sex now that they were all drunk enough. He was the Master of Fun. He was the Master of Everything in this school. He was Connor the Swagger and he was un-fucking-beatable. That night he took a demure girl by the name of Danielle upstairs to his master bedroom suite. Hundreds of years old, the room had a giant bed and was decorated with antique furniture. It gave one the feeling of grandeur and opulence, which is nothing less than what he deserved, and as he plied her into bed, with her shy looks and soft skin, and tossing her hair to please him, lying back to look sexy for him as he slipped off her panties and climbed on top of her, dwarfing her, slipping inside her, he thought about how it would last forever. A life of fucking, partying, hot women and getting rich. Danielle stared at his arms, massive biceps and tris as big as her head and the veins that ran between him she orgasmed at the sight of him above her, his giant pecs and his unbelievably handsome face. He kissed her hard and shoved her up in the air, his dick ready to fully plow her as he carried her on his dick, using her body to service him, to act as a personal fuck toy he could carry, heaving her up and down over his mightily engorged fuckstick. That’s why I love short women, he thought. “You like that, babe?” “That was…” she gulped. “That was amazing, Connor. I’m so glad I’m with you.” She was all over him, kissing him and the two fell asleep in each others arms as snow collected on the windowsill behind them. And standing down in the snow just below the house was a stranger wearing a dark woolen overcoat, looking up, who saw and heard whatever he wanted. No one saw him. The figure walked back into the woods from the direction he came as the snow erased his footprints one by one.
  5. Alright guys. Here it is. My contribution to storiversary. I honestly had a lot of trouble coming up with what to write and I feel like what I did come up with is a little fast paced, almost rushed. But if you don't like wasting time and getting right to the good stuff (muscle growth) then this story is for you. lol Enjoy! ************************************** Where to begin? Well, I guess the beginning. My buddy Nolan and I have been inseparable since birth. We went to the same elementary, middle, high school, we graduated together, and now we’re college roomies. We’d just gotten settled in to our new apartment on campus. Nolan was struggling to get his last box of supplies through the door. He finally plopped the box down in the living room with a loud thud and huffed loudly. The box couldn’t have weighed more than fifty pounds, but he was a little guy, barely 5’6”, no more than 140lbs soaking wet. He was a good looking dude in the youthful kind of way. He couldn’t grow a beard to save his life, so had long since embraced the baby face look. Although he had plenty of self-confidence in his looks, he was extremely self conscious of his size. He always wore extremely baggy clothes in an attempt to hide his frail physique. He had always wanted to play on the football team at school. Obviously, no coach was going to let a little shrimp like Nolan play. Unfortunately, he just didn’t have the willpower. He would hire the personal trainers, but wouldn’t follow through. He would start the meal plans, but not finish them. And I wasn’t any help. I didn’t hold him accountable. So by senior year, he had accepted his fate. He was doomed to be the skinny twerp for the rest of his life. What Nolan didn’t know, is that I’d been doing a ton of research in my spare time and I might have figured out a solution to all of his problems. Now, what I’m about to explain sounds crazy - absolutely impossible - but it’s not. I mean, yeah, it’s crazy, for sure, but somehow, entirely possible. I had stumbled upon a device that will allow me to channel my consciousness back in time. My plan is to travel back to various times in our past and impress upon Nolan to push himself harder and give him the push to grow far before he was really thinking about it. Hopefully, his genetics are only restricting him so much and a little extra inspiration will give him the push to actually put on some size. Hell, I would strap him down and force feed him if I needed to! But for now, back to reality. Unpacking. After several hours, we finally got the apartment looking somewhat like a home, with pretty much everything put in its place. We were both wiped out. But we were done. Nolan lifted up the front of his baggy shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow, uncovering his skinny abs. Jesus, I swear you could almost see his ribs underneath. We had some pizza delivered, chowed down, and Nolan stumbled to his room and passed out for the night. Classes didn’t begin for a couple of days, which was nice. We had a few days to get settled in. I went to my room and pulled the little device out of my pocket and stared at it intently. All I had to do was enter a date on the screen and place the device on my forehead and go to sleep and I would travel via my conscious back to whatever time I had entered. Obviously it had to be a time that I existed or I wouldn’t have a body to land in. I had decided on a date about five years ago, right before we were to finish 8th grade and start high school - the summer before. It seemed like a semi-pivotal point in our lives. I didn’t want to do anything too drastic to start so this seemed like the most straightforward option. I entered the date, stuck the weird device to my forehead and closed my eyes. I drifted off to sleep, and all of a sudden, I’m staring at adolescent Nolan, which unfortunately for him, wasn’t much different from adult Nolan. I blinked twice. Was I in a dream or did the device actually work? This felt so real. “Hello? Earth to James. Knock, knock! Anybody there?” Shit I had stared to long and zoned out. I snapped out of it and smirked at him. “Sorry man just thinking about how dope this summer is gonna be. We’re gonna get jacked this summer right?”, I joked. Nolan just laughed. “Yeah right dude. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? Mr. Jack Skellington, himself.”, he said as he gestured to his gaunt figure. “No man I’m serious. This time’s going to be different. I’m holding you accountable. We’re going to work out every day, and eat until we literally can’t eat anything else.” This would, hopefully, be the tipping point. So for the next month, I ripped into him. I forced protein shakes down his throat, dragged him to the gym, until he finally seemed to be less resistant to the whole thing. I had pushed it onto him just long enough where I think he started noticing the slightest of results, and that was all it took for him to be hooked. That was all I needed. As I went to ‘sleep’, in my dream state, I willed myself back to the present, which was an even weirder feeling than when I got here. I woke up with a start and checked my watch. I had been asleep for what literally felt like a month, but less than 5 seconds had passed in the present. I took off the device and actually went to sleep, anxious for what changes, if any, tomorrow would bring. ************************************** The sun peeked through the blinds, slowly waking me up from a great night’s sleep. I got rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. The cotton shorts I slept in felt different, like not tighter, but more fitted if that makes sense? I got to the bathroom and was shocked at the sight that greeted me. Now keep in mind, I was no slouch, weighing in at a solid 180lbs of toned muscle, but I was hardly considered buff. The beefcake attached to my head would beg to differ. I wasn’t huge, but I was definitely bigger than I’d ever been. There was no way I weighed under 215 now. My arms had more shape to them, my pecs cast the slightest shadow from their size. I couldn’t see it as much as I could feel it, but my butt was slightly bigger, pulling the fabric of my cotton shorts more tightly. My thighs were beefier, which would explain why my shorts felt different. They were wrapped tautly around my lower body now, accenting every bit of definition in my legs. I guess I didn’t really think about how changing the past would affect me. I had only thought about how it would affect Nolan, but it made sense. We were inseparable, so if he started working out and bulking up, I was going to be working out right next to him and pushing him harder and harder. I definitely wasn’t upset with the results. I casually started flexing my thicker arms, marveling at their size and their definition. I flexed my chest and bounced my pecs. I grinned viciously. I’d never been able to do that before. This was awesome. I threw on a t shirt, relishing in feeling of my new muscles pressing lightly against the fabric, and walked out of my bedroom to the kitchen to whip together some breakfast. My thoughts were starting to get scrambled, mixing the old reality with the new. My brain was automatically telling me I needed to make my “usual” healthy breakfast of 6 egg whites and a slice of whole wheat toast, but I also knew that I had never in my life made a breakfast like that. As I was cooking my eggs, I heard Nolan shuffle into the kitchen as well. I turned to look at him, excited about what changes I would be able to see. I was instantly met with disappointment. If he was different, it wasn’t noticeable underneath the still baggy clothes he always wore. His face looked a little more masculine and his neck seemed a bit thicker, but any other potential changes were hidden beneath those damned baggy clothes. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk and made himself a protein shake. Hmmmm. Well that was definitely a change. He chugged the whole thing in one gulp and burped loudly, grinning stupidly. “Bruh you making enough for both of us? You know I’m trying for lineman by next season. Boy’s gonna have to pack on the pounds if I’m gonna be big enough for that!” said Nolan. Fuck, his voice was the slightest bit deeper now. And he’s trying to be lineman by next season? He was going to have to do more than just a little growing if he planned on being a lineman. “Uh…yeah man. I was gonna go ahead and cook the whole carton of eggs anyways…” I muttered, noting that my voice also had a deeper, richer tone to it as well. We ate our breakfast and next on our “daily routine” was the gym, of course. Man this was weird. So Nolan got up from the table, tossed his dish in the sink and headed to his room to change. And then, without a second thought, Nolan started to strip off his clothes. I didn’t even have time to react. Apparently he had gained a bit more confidence with these changes as well. Nolan was never one to just take off his clothes, even around his closest bro. Yet, here he was taking off every piece of clothing and tossing it wherever it landed as he walked to his room. The body that was hiding underneath those baggy clothes exceeded anything I could have imagined. He wasn’t huge, by any means. But he was a far cry from the shrimpy Nolan that I had grown up with - at least until last night. He had first peeled off the baggy hoody he had been wearing, which revealed a back so wide, so cut and defined, I’m sure you could break rocks against it. His thick back was capped with a pair of softball sized shoulders, toned with every striation visible. I got a glimpse of his biceps as he brought his arms back down, again, cut as fuck, and about the size of baseballs. His triceps had a nice horseshoe shape to them. Just as I was processing all of this, he hopped out of his sweatpants, revealing a pair of cut-as-fuck legs. Each thigh writhed and bulged with each step he made. His calves were just as cut and defined. His butt was hard as granite and straining his tighter boxer briefs. Overall, he had the look of a pro athlete now. Whatever I had done in the past, lit a fire deep inside of him and he had tightened up and grown his body to an unbelievable condition. He was a bonafide hunk! He reemerged from his room moments later in his workout gear, which was a drastic change from his usual garb. Each piece of clothing was pulled tight across each engorged muscle, straining the material just the right amount. The tightness of the clothing highlighted each of his muscles perfectly. He actually had the beginnings of a pec shelf bulging from the front of his shirt. He was mindlessly scratching at his midsection, which allowed me to get a peek at his ripped 8 pack abs. Fuck, he was a real beast now. I quickly snapped out of my stupor and ran and threw on some clothes as well. It was obvious he was waiting on me. So off we rushed to the gym. Everyone greeted us as if we were regulars there, which I guess we were in this new reality. Again, my brain is still adjusting to this shift. Apparently today was leg day. I just followed Nolan’s lead since I had no clue what we were doing. I had no recollection of my PRs or anything. But, as we started our workout all of this information started flooding my brain. By the time we were through the first workout, I had the knowledge of a seasoned lifter, but I still remembered how I didn’t have that knowledge just a few minutes ago. This is fucking weird. Anyways, we warmed up with regular squats, I found out my one rep max was 325lbs, which is just wild to me. Nolan’s was something like 375? I was loving the feeling of my pumped quads pressing tightly against my workout shorts, this all felt so new to me, and yet not at the same time. We powered through the most excruciating leg day I had ever experienced - squats, box squats, kettlebell lunges, dead lifts, leg press….we ended with calf raises. Devastated, we each stumbled our way out of the gym back to the car - the sign of a good leg day. My legs felt like they were about to explode from this unreal pump. We got in the car and I took note of how bloated Nolan’s legs looked now in his workout shorts. All definition had left and given way to the pump. Nolan caught me staring and just laughed and smacked each leg. “Fuck man the pump is too real today. Legs are lookin’ extra JOOCEEY.” he said, smirking. “Damn brah, I’m fuckin’ starvin’ man. Let’s go get some grub.” Something about Nolan’s personality was off to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He seemed more “broish” than normal? Eh whatever. Probably just the massive amounts of testosterone pumping through his veins after that insane workout. We hit up the nearest buffet and did some major damage. I felt like I had eaten a lot but jesus christ, Nolan put away the food. He ate more than I thought was possible for one human to consume in one sitting. He was like an animal. “Gotta grow man. My body's like a furnace, burning through all these calories. I gotta eat so I can grow.”, grumbled Nolan, in between mouthfuls of baked potato. Nolan eventually got full and we left the restaurant. His 8 pack abs were distended from the obscene amount of food he just put away, bulging out against his shirt. The remainder of the day was fairly uneventful, since school hadn’t started yet. We just lounged around the house, binged a few shows, ate more food if you can believe it. Eventually, it was time for bed again. I had gotten all the confirmation I had needed from today that this little experiment was a success and I knew I was just getting started. If Nolan wanted to be a linebacker, well. He was going to get that. This time, I had traveled back to a time when we were kids. I planned on making several stops this time. I didn’t spend as much time here as I did before. I just spent a couple of days and did nothing but talk about working out and muscles. I wanted to make sure Nolan got it engrained in his head that the only thing that matter was muscles and getting as massive as possible. I then travelled back to the same time I had gone to previously and was pleasantly surprised to see that version of Nolan looking pretty much like the present day Nolan did right now. This got me real excited. If he was already this big now, just how much bigger could he get in the next five years? I egged him on even more in this time period. He was all about dieting and nutrition and staying cut. I told him to fuck all that and just eat big and lift heavy weight. That should do the trick. I could hardly wait to see what kind of reality I was going to wake up to the next morning. ************************************** I awoke the next morning to a totally different apartment. The two bedroom apartment we previously had was now a loft. And it had a pungent scent to it that was inescapable - it reeked of pure masculinity. I blearily observed my surroundings before landing on a bed on the other side of the room. And in that bed was something otherworldly, absolutely massive. Whatever it was, was hidden underneath a ton of blankets, but It’s mass could not be hidden underneath the blankets, like a mountain rising out of the ocean. A deep, guttural moan came from across the room and the creature rolled over, causing the blanket to fall and I immediately gasped aloud. The face was almost unrecognizable, but it was definitely Nolan, albeit, a hyper masculine version of Nolan. He had a thick beard covering his face that was attached to a neck that easily outsized a telephone pole. His shoulders were almost comically large, stretching easily two feet in each direction. It was then that I noticed his twin sized mattress had been replaced with a king size mattress, and he still dwarfed even that. This titan, this beast across the room was Nolan - little shrimpy Nolan no longer existed in this reality. He had been replaced by a literal wall of muscle. I hadn’t been mentally prepared for this much of a change, so slight gasp managed to escape my mouth, causing the beast to stir. He groggily opened his eyes, seeing me stare wide-eyed at him from across the room. He began to shift and literally roll his massive body out of his bed. Only then was I able to take in the full extent of what I’d done. It seemed he had grown a couple of inches, somehow, putting him at around 5’8” now. How he had managed to pack such an obscene amount of muscle on such a short frame was beyond me. He was just about as broad as he was tall. His pecs had to completely obscure anything in his immediate vicinity. They bulged up and outwards to the point that he could easily rest his chin on the top of his pecs if he so desired. His nipples were completely hidden, having been pushed down and back from the immensity of the bulging globes of his chest. The thickness of his back forced his equally massive arms (easily 28 inches, cold) outwards at a 45 degree angle. The tight 8 pack I so fondly remembered yesterday was also long gone, replaced by a massive, bulging gut. I guess he took my “fuck clean eating” mantra to heart after all. He had the look of the largest, most off season bodybuilder you could imagine. Each of his legs were more massive than the size of his entire body had been previously. But these legs were not cut and striated, like they used to be. These legs were instruments of pure power, bulging with pure mass. The two thighs were at a constant battle for space, even with his gigantic feet planted 4 feet apart. As I stared at Nolan in pure awe and wonderment, I was instantly hit with all these new memories. I felt like my brain was going into overload, all the old memories overlapping with new memories and contradicting each other. I remembered Nolan as always being the tiny shrimpy dork, but then I remembered us deciding when we were kids that we wanted to be the biggest dudes ever and we had started working out religiously, Nolan absolutely blowing the fuck up once we hit high school. Yesterday he had finally clocked in at his goal of a massive 450lbs. My mind was working overtime right now to process everything, when the deepest, richest bassy voice sounded off across the room. “Buddy, bro you ok? You don’t look so great. I mean obviously you look GREAT but…” he chuckled, literally shaking the room with his booming voice. What did he mean I looked great? My memories continued to form and with wide eyes, I looked down. I was immediately met with a wall of flesh. Nolan, again, wasn’t the only one affected by my time meddling. I was fucking enormous. My chest was absolutely enormous, blocking my view of everything below me. The valley between them was so deep, you could lose a whole arm in there. I stared in awe at what little I could see of my incredible physique. My hands were so fucking thick now - the size of dinner plates. Each finger was thicker than a sausage. As I got out of bed, I now felt more and more how much weight had been added to my frame. I felt so damn heavy, yet each movement was easier than it had ever been. I had so much power now. I stood up and walked over to the mirror - well attempted to. My massive legs struggled to get around each other, which caused me to waddle awkwardly, but man I loved it. It felt amazing to just be taking up so much more space in the room. As I gazed upon my newly massive self in the mirror, I grew completely hard instantly. That’s when I noticed that my muscle wasn’t the only thing that had grown. My cock had grown to an inhuman 19 inches rock hard. It was wedged comfortably between my thick, juicy pecs. Where Nolan was an enigma of pure mass and power, I had dialed it in a little more. I was every bit as huge as Nolan, but I was also cut-as-fuck. The amount of definition I somehow still managed to show in each muscle while maintaining such a massive size was unheard of. What did he mean I looked great? I mean of course I looked great. All we did was eat and lift. What did he think would come of that? “Fuck bruh. I’m good. Real good. I’m feelin’ extra pumped today.” I marveled at the depth of my voice now - so deep and sexy. I made James Earl Jones sound like a little girl. “Fuck yah brah, lets go make some gains, my guy.” boomed Nolan. As my new memories continued to compile in my brain, clouding over the old ones, I realized that whatever changes I had made in the past had affected us so much, that we had actually dropped out of high school and devoted our entire lives to making gains, which is why the apartment had changed. We were no longer about to start college. We just rented a loft with an open floor plan because it best suited our massive sizes. I could literally feel the intelligence getting sucked out of my brain. Sure, we were probably now the two most massive alpha males to ever walk the planet, but at what cost? I had unintentionally turned the both of us into two hulking dumb brutes. But by now, I'm past regretting it. The new reality has just about taken over and all I can think about now is eating, lifting, and growing. Nolan threw on his workout clothes, which hardly qualified as clothes. There weren’t a whole lot of options to cover up something as massive as he was. He struggled to pull an XXXXL tank top over his thick head and stretched it over his enormous bulk. His enormous chesticles bulged out the sides of the tank obscenely and spilled out of the collar. The bottom half of the tank top was stretched across the vast expanse of his bulging gut. His “basketball shorts” (they would be if they were on a normal sized person) were his only option for pants at this point. It was the only material that would stretch and give enough to hold up against his titanic tree trunk legs and his enormous ass. They also needed to stretch across his crotch enough to hold the massive salami and orange-size balls he had too - I forgot to mention that. My cock is real big at 19 inches hard. It’s nothing compared to Nolan’s python. 24 fucking inches hard. TWO FEET. and 12 inches around. It’s as thick as a two liter bottle. His enormous hands could palm a basketball easily, and even then he had to use both of his hands to grope his thick cock. So between that giant hose and his big ole’ balls, his basketball shorts were looking pretty obscene. The fact that there is absolutely no space between his legs only amplifies the bulge in his shorts by pushing his massive junk forward even more. “Fuck man,” Nolan grunted, “These clothes are so damned tight. I’ll see ya there, my guy.” Finally dressed, er sort of, Nolan saunters out the door. I watch his thick ass and legs hungrily as he walks off - each muscle throbbing and writhing with each step. As massive as he was, every bit of that mass was needed to move such an immense amount of weight. The floor is actually shaking as he makes his way across the room, each step booming. I chuckled as I watched him trying to exit the building. We had had the door replaced with a double door since we’d gotten so big, but even then, at his current size, his massive shoulders still brushed both sides of the doorway at the same time. It wouldn’t be too much longer and he would need an even larger opening. As soon as he left, I scrambled to find the device. Given my new size, this was easier said than done. Even though most of the new reality and been set, my brain was still adjusting to how to maneuver all this mass the best way possible, so awkwardness. I knew we were already big enough - I mean we were pushing the limits of realistic size at this point, but there was a part of me that wanted to see Nolan even bigger. Like MASSIVE. I’m talking godhood - a giant. Also I was worried that if I waited much longer, I would be too dumb to even figure out how to work the device or remember that it even existed. So, I found the device and entered a time codes and popped it on before I could think about the ramifications of what I was doing and change my mind. First, I traveled to the future (weird right?) where new drugs and supplements had been developed to stimulate growth. Not just muscle growth, but height as well. The size I had in mind for Nolan required him to be much taller, otherwise he would just be a musclebound blob. This is where it gets complicated. Since only my consciousness traveled through time, I couldn’t just take the supplements with me. I won’t bore you with the details, so the short version is that I spent several months in the labs with the doctor that created these drugs and memorized the steps to recreate these drugs in the past, which was no easy feat with my increasingly diminishing IQ. I then traveled back to the time period I had originally traveled to, gained access to a lab and recreated the supplements. I gave them to Nolan and peaced out. Phew. This better be worth it. ************************************** As soon as I opened my eyes, this new reality hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no acclimating like the last times. My mind was immediately inundated with new memories. I remember Nolan giving me some pills back when we were kids. He said it would help us get bigger. I had been hesitant to take them at first, so Nolan was several doses ahead of me before I finally joined him. The result had been an explosive amount of growth that spanned the next five years. The loft was now a huge mansion with massive ceilings and entryways. In fact, everything about the mansion was supersized. It was supersized because we had to have a place built specifically for us because we were so fucking huge now. We were literal giants. Gods. I walked past a mirror and stopped to admire myself. I mean, it was hard not to do when you look like I do now. Every muscle on my body was so bloated and engorged with pure mass. I had a custom made towel that was the size of a bed sheet wrapped around my waist, and yet it did nothing to hide the mass that was underneath. Just this morning I clocked in weighing 935lbs at 11’5”. I was really hoping to hit quad digits soon. Like I said. Actual giant. We had ended up earning a fortune making cam shows. Obviously dudes our size were very rare and people paid just about anything to watch two muscle gods go to pound town. We were the only ones that could handle the other’s size after all. The doorbell rang. A little guy was at the door. I say little guy, because he was a little guy to us. To the standard person, he was a big dude. He was about the size of a pro bodybuilder. He must’ve been one of our “premium customers”. Jesus I forget sometimes just how big we are now. Seeing a full grown man barely come up to your waist, his entire body smaller than one of my titanic legs, really puts things into perspective again. “Bruh. Come in man. Are you ready for the time of your life or what?” The depth of my voice shook the poor guy to his very core. “uh-uh-y-y-y-yessir. I-I-I-I think I am.” the poor guy stammered. “What’s your name, little bud?” I asked. “B-B-B-Ben, s-s-s-s-sir.” He was frightened out his mind. I didn’t blame him of course. I could literally destroy him with the mere flick of a finger. I patted him on his head, my massive mitt engulfing it completely. I could honestly crush his head one-handed if I so desired. This kind of power was intoxicating. I watched his eyes grow wider and wider as I slowly removed the towel from my waist, unleashing the beast. My three foot cock sprang forward, smacking the little guy right in the face, knocking him backwards. The thing was nearly as big as he was, The head alone was much larger than the man’s fist. He stumbled back to his feet and something switched in him. All fear was gone as he literally leapt onto my massive cock and just started massaging it and sucking on any part of It’s surface he could attach himself to. I moaned in pure ecstasy as he continued to work his way up and down my member. As the moment of truth arrived, Ben clung to my dick for dear life as he literally felt it “charging up”. Just in time too, as I came almost right after. And when I say I came…I’m saying like a canon. A geyser of cum erupted from me that seemed to never end. The aftermath was quite messy. In the middle of the massive pool of cum sat my poor little muscle worshipper, Ben. The force of my cum explosion still managed to launch him off of my giant cock and into the torrential geyser of cum, but he seemed to be completely content. All of a sudden, there was the sound of thunder coming from the entryway to the house. Nolan was home. Around the corner came the men of all men. He was truly the reason we needed the giant-size house with the giant-size furniture. Even with the 15 foot ceilings, Nolan’s head still brushed the top. The extra wide hallways were still just barely wide enough to hold the giant behemoth. Even at almost 15 feet tall, he was just as wide and musclebound as ever. Last time we weighed in, he was over two tons of beef. Yes, it’s just as unbelievable as it sounds. As I had maintained my cut physique, Nolan had stuck with his off season look. It made him look even bigger. His enormous muscle gut was the only thing that bulged out far enough for him to see past his planet-sized pecs. Well that and his massive dick, but we’ll get to that. “Yooooo you must be Ben.” boomed Nolan with a toothy grin. “This is the lil guy who paid the big bucks to have a private sesh with us bruh!” Before Ben had time to react, Nolan had picked him up in one of his massive hands and just held him. He fit easily in one of his enormous palms, the size of a truck tire. Ben looked absolutely terrified but also completely turned on all at once. Nolan chuckled deeply, shaking the whole house and gently place him back on the ground. Ben was still in awe of the mass of muscle before him. Nolan’s calves, alone, were larger than Ben’s entire body. He barely came up to mid thigh on Nolan, which put him right at eye level with his “third leg”. Nolan’s cock was otherworldly. It was just about large enough to have It’s own zip code. It was as big around as a telephone pole and, last we checked, nearly six feet long. Meaning, Nolan’s cock was actually bigger than Ben was. The head of his cock was bigger than Ben’s own actual head. As soon as Ben made “eye contact”, it began to plump up and engorge with blood, growing even larger and getting harder. Ben then repeated the same process that he did with me, riding Nolan’s enormous cock and just writhing and licking and kissing all over it until Nolan erupted and a seemingly endless fountain of cum showered the entire living room. Ben spent the next couple of hours “playing” on us like we were a jungle gym. He climbed around each of our enormous bodies and worshipped just about every inch of our bodies until he could handle no more. He called his banker and had the $10,000 that we had requested wired directly to our bank account and he left, never to be seen again. As tired as he was, all of the activities of the day had been a mere warm up for us. So, after his departure we went at it like animals. Fucked for 3 hours straight. We almost destroyed the house. After all, there’s no gentle way for two giant masses of muscle to have consensual sex. In the afterglow of our night of pure ecstasy, I lay in our “bed”. I say bed but it was really the size of a normal room. Again, custom made. The thing still barely held Nolan, much less both of us together. I casually fondled his doorknob sized nipples as I reminisced on our incredible journey of growth together. Who knew five years ago, that we would ever end up so inhumanly massive, so powerful? Well apparently, I did, but I’d forgotten that already. This really was the life. I couldn’t possibly imagine life any other way. ************************************** Once Ben had gotten home from that absolutely wild day he had had, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a strange looking device. He had heard rumors of a device that had been invented that allowed you to manipulate reality via time travel. Very few of them were made, but he knew exactly what it looked like. So when he saw what looked like one on one of the tables at the giants’ house, he snagged the thing without a second thought when neither of the giants were looking. He fumbled with the parameters on the device and placed the device on his head, already imagining what wondrous changes he had in store for himself. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with a grin on his face. THE END
  6. Preface: I had a depressive episode shortly into writing this story. It took days to get back on track. I don't feel the story is that good and it's not my best work. I tried to improve it but the spark was gone. I apologize for any errors or problems. Theme Park by Cutlerfan It had been closed for over ten years but power was still hooked up so local frats and their pledges went to spend a night inside as a dare. Not much happened usually but there were times when things took a turn for the weird. This was one of those times. The indoor amusement park was small but completely inside so bad weather, cold, or heat did not hamper a day of fun. Heart’s Desire was originally intended to be a park for lovers but had grown over the years to include the usual rides and attractions one would expect for a fun park. As the group of brothers from Delta Iota Kappa fraternity and their pledges approached the chained main entrance all that could be read of the sign was H ART’S AMUSEMENT PARK. The E in HEART’S and the DESIRE lettering having fallen off after years of disuse. Since the little people remembered about the park was that the owner was Eli Hart no one thought the name was strange. Eli had disappeared shortly after the park closed for unknown reasons. It had been a popular attraction in it’s day in the brutally cold Minnesota winters. The group got to the entrance and one frat guy used a lock pick to remove the lock from the rust encrusted chain. It was odd that the lock had no rust but the chain was heavily flaked with iron oxide. The heavy chain came free and landed with an echoing crunch that sent bits of dirt and rust particles into the air. In the group were Brad, Eric, Chuck, Mike, Barry, and Seth representing the fraternity. The pledges were Dane, Ian, Peter, and James. Brad was 6’2” and a college Quarterback. His good looks had allowed him to bed many women who seldom stayed after the first night. He was exceedingly arrogant and that drove women away more often than not. He was well hung with average sized balls. Chuck and Seth were also on the football team. Seth was a Safety and Chuck a Lineman. Both were pretty bulky and hairy although Seth was leaner and more agile with Chuck relishing his chances to butt heads with his opponents. Neither had girlfriends although they both played the proverbial dating field. Barry was thin and lithe; the perfect swimmer’s body. He enjoyed tight clothes and speedos to show off his body and large endowment. Eric was the second string quarterback. He was an inch taller than Brad but less cocky. His cerulean eyes showed a lot of his inner emotion although he rarely let it show otherwise. He was buff but wanted more muscle to make him stand out more. Dane was an English major and he was a handsome man at 5’11” but he’d be the first to call himself a nerd since he preferred reading books to dating. He had just finished Edith Wharton’s Ethan Frome and wasn’t happy about this frat initiation. His dad has suggested he get his head out of books, join a frat, and enjoy himself but he wasn’t sure. He felt that his olive skin tone disguised some of his geekiness since he did not do many outdoors sports. Ian was 6’0’ and very overweight. He was bright but shy and wore glasses. He had zero sexual experience and had hoped joining a frat would help him with his social awkwardness. He had a love of muscle but assumed he'd never be a muscle man. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might be gay but his homelife was pretty crazy so he’d never had the time. Peter was a business major who hoped to run a company one day. He knew it took determination to succeed in business but he worried he lacked that quality. Joining a frat would help him network for possible future business deals.He was tall, of average build, and had a fine bulge. James was a Biology major who hoped to study genetic disorders one day. He was lean and lithe and had been on the Crew team his freshman year and was a good Coxswain. He decided to try a frat to give him an idea where he fit in the world of introverts and extroverts. Few people knew how well hung he was because he didn’t wear tight clothes very often. “Ok plebes time to go inside. Remember if you leave before dawn you fail your initiation, understand? It’s now nine pm and sunrise is in about ten and a half hours. Just stay inside the entire time and you’ll be fine.” The frat boys firmly push the four pledges into the doorway. “There’s a powerbox next to the door on the right. Flip the switch and you won’t be in the dark all night, ok? Now go!” The foursome entered the door and turned on their flashlights. After a few moments a click was heard and all the lights came on. Carnival music was heard so the frat guys relocked the chain on the door and went around back to a somewhat secret entrance the frat used to get inside to torment the pledges. “We’re gonna scare them shitless!” said Brad. “Hell yeah we’ll show those fairies who’s boss alright!” added Barry. “Give it a rest guys!” muttered Eric. “Not every pledge is gay you know.” “It’s best just to assume so to weed out the fags!” replied Chuck. Eric sighed as he trailed behind the other guys. He knew if the guys found out about his orientation they’d kick him out of the frat for sure; assuming they didn’t beat him while doing so. He dated and slept with girls to keep up appearances but he knew he was really a Bisexual guy who preferred other guys. Sex with women was fine but he never felt a strong bond with any of his dates. This worked to his advantage since his reputation as a lady's man made it easy for him to date and sleep with many women without any commitments. Eric had come along to make sure the other bros didn’t do anything dangerous. He sighed and went inside. The pledges were enjoying the sights and sounds of the park. Automated music poured out of the loudspeakers but it wasn’t too loud to annoy them It was more like a distant buzz in their ears. The group found spots to bunk down in and unrolled their sleeping bags. After they were ready for any sleep they might want they explored the area around them. There was a Cupid themed fountain that turned on when the power came back. It quickly filled with a bluish tinted water that smelled sweet. Dane took a tiny sip from it that he gathered in his flask and said it tasted sort of like liquid cotton candy. He had a full drink and headed off to the games area. His hair slowly turned a light pastel blue tint as he walked. As was the tradition, all five guys took time near where they had entered to stop by an odd statue. Brad bowed at the statue of a hearty looking male holding a goblet in one hand with his other hand out palm open.. A sign above him read “An offering allows you passage. In the right spot grants you a wish” Brad poured a libation of beer into the goblet and he and three of the guys left. Eric stood before the statue and spotted something on the floor. He picked it up and held it in his hand. It was heavy and embossed with an image of a smiling swarthy man. He looked like a genie or djinn from the tales of Arabian Nights.Looking a bit puzzled Eric placed the coin in the statue’s open palm and said “I wish I could be myself to my friends and that we could all get along.” Eric sighed and headed off to the others. After he was gone the eyes of the statue glowed for a moment and a voice boomed “Wish Granted.” The frat brothers began laying out their props and equipment. Spooky sound effects recordings on portable wi-fi speakers, fake blood, and other pranks were in their bag of tricks. They spread out leaving fake signs of death around as they went; a skull here or there, blood droplets, and a few pieces of rotting fish. It was childish at best but the bros apart from Eric were enjoying themselves when they reached the hall of mirrors. The five pranksters stood together in the hall of mirrors. Each saw his distorted figure reflected in the glass. Barry smirked as he saw his huge expanded belly in the mirror. “Whoa, I guess I had too many cheeseburgers at lunch.” The other bros laughed and showed off their reflections. Barry saw a burly man far bigger than his slim physique. Brad scowled seeing his shorter, more feminine body in the mirror. “What is this gay crap?” The others chuckled and agreed they’re images were messed up too. Seth looked about the same in height but more handsome. “Damn! I didn’t know a mirror could shrink your package!” he commented while pointing at Brad’s reflection. “Who says it shrunk?” replied Brad. “you’ve never been well hung.” As Brad smirked Seth replied. “Well princess I think you should look at yours again, a micro bulge and a huge ass is what I see!” Brad saw it was true, the image did give him a very pronounced set of glutes like he has been a cyclist for decades. “EFF you Seth, it’s just some kind of smart mirror warping our images. Plenty of ladies can attest to the size of my manhood!” Chuck cried “Weird I'm taller but where’s my scruff and body hair?” The hirsute Chuck looked barely eighteen with no facial hair. “Guys it looks like I’ve been eating my Wheaties or doing roids! He flexed his arms revealing the enormous muscle man in the reflection. “Eh it’s all fake anyway” said Brad. “You three get started with the other prank stuff we brought while Barry and I get set up here!” Eric, Seth, and Chuck all left with the supplies. Barry and Brad began to set up some drone controlled ghost puppets on strings. “Hey man.” Brad asked Barry. Is my ass really huge in the mirror?” Barry looked and said “no looks normal to me. Oh crap! Uh Brad your ass is huge!” Barry cried. “Yeah I know in the mirror right?” Brad said annoyed. “No like for real, your ass is like two beach balls, feel it!” “What the hell are you...Fuck! What the hell happened? I have a ginormous double bubble butt ass! Wait? How did I know that’s what I have? Like what’s wrong with my voice? I sound so wimpish!” Brad was panicking when Barry walked over. And hugged him. “It’s okay Brad I like your voice and bubble butt!” Barry rubbed Brad’s enormous bouncy glutes and Brad suddenly moaned. ‘Oh Fuck me that feels so good… I mean... why the hell did you do that? Are you a fairy or something?” Brad slapped Barry hand off his ass but it was a weak slap. Don’t touch me you freak!” Brad stomped off leaving Barry confused but he relaxed as he stood posing in the mirror and seeing his lean body swell with muscle and size. He thought he was at least six foot six and three hundred fifty pounds. “Looks like I should quit the swimming team and join Football. I like that idea!” He cupped his big bulge and was soon masturbating. A few minutes later his cum hit the mirror and he moaned as a heavy orgasm caused his body to spasm.Over an hour later he emerged a mammoth bear of a man. Brad looked for and found a bathroom mirror to look at himself in. Thinking to himself. ‘He looked the same, right? Very sexy for the ladies. That was all just a trick of the light in the Hall of Mirrors’. As Brad turned to leave he didn’t notice his now regular sized ass begin to grow. It was just a bit but noticeable. Soon Eric found Chuck after he had just run out of pranks. As they were chatting Brad saw something out of the corner of his eye. He spotted Ian and Dane heading to the House of Horror. He motioned for Chuck to follow him and the two quietly follow the pledges. After letting them look around inside for a few moments they caught up with the pair inside the Mad Scientist’s Lair. “You come here to get scared, fairies?” asked Brad and the two pledges turned to run. Easily outracing them Brad and Chuck grabbed them. Brad saw Dane’s tinted hair and reached out to punch him. At this point Chuck saw the experiment chambers and gestured to them. Four tiny plastic ‘treatment’ chambers each the size of a porta potty. “Perfect signs for them huh Chuck?” Chuck laughed as he read the signs above two of the chambers which read ‘Twink’ and ‘Slaveboy.’ “Let’s throw them in there!” cried Brad and he pushed Dane into the Twink chamber and Chuck shoved Ian into the Slaveboy one. They closed the doors and looked around for some controls. They were standing in front of two chambers labeled ‘Real Man’ and ‘Alpha Male’. They failed to notice some pressure pads in the floor and as they moved around Chuck stepped on one and the chambers powered up with flashing lights and weird electrical sounds Brad was smiling and stepped on another control and gears began to grind as the small metal pads the duo were standing on were pulled into the remaining chambers; Brad into the ‘Alpha Male’ chamber and Chuck into the ‘Real Man’ one. Automatic doors closed on them before they could get out. A mist of fog enveloped the group of four and electrical discharges filled the air. The chambers began to shake and the four signs started to fall off the displays one after the other revealing different placards underneath. The ‘Alpha Male’ now read ‘Twink’ and the Real Man read “Slaveboy.’ The machines began to shut down and a rush of steam filled the air as the chambers opened. Brad staggered out first. His body felt unstable and he soon understood why. He had shrunk somehow! He knew he couldn't be taller than 5’2” and ‘Holy Shit! What happened to my ass?’ he thought as he felt the ballooned glutes sticking out a good seven or eight inches from his waist. He realized he had a “bubble butt” but wasn’t sure how he knew that. Dane was next and he was huge! He stepped out completely naked. He stood around 6’10’ and was a whopping 360-70 pounds of dense muscle. He had grown a beard in the scant 45 seconds in the chamber and he began to stroke it. “Damn this feels good! Brad? Is that you?” He asked and smirked. “You look soo cute that way and such a fine ass.” He swatted Brad’s posterior and Brad moaned and was aroused like he had never been before. Brad knew he should have been offended but it did feel good and he couldn’t help but be attracted to this, this, this Adonis in front of him. “Thanks Dane, you look pretty incredible as well. Can I touch you, please? I just need to feel that stud bod of yours, I mean eh I… can’t resist you? How can this be?” Dane smiled and replied “It’s because I’m an Alpha Male and you’re a Twink!” Dane bent down and kissed Brad and though small his erection was visible in the spandex shorts he now wore. A patch of wetness was obvious.“Oh GAWD I’m gonna cum! Kiss me again sweetie!” Dane did so and Brad’s small body spasmed as he cummed. Brad suddenly frowned. “Look, Dane, I’m sorry for saying you were a fag. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry please forgive me! I’m a joke. I was so mean and all because I was insecure in my masculinity. I deserve this punishment! I’ll do whatever you want.. I’ll suck you off or you can fuck me but don’t leave me alone… I feel so safe with you! I never realized how cowardly I’ve been until now. Hiding behind a mask of toxic masculinity. But that’s been stripped away and I don’t know what to do. Would you help me please?” Chuck came out next. He was wearing a leather studded collar and a harness. He was taller, almost as tall as Dane but he had no body hair any more. There was a cock cage around his rod and he looked unsure how to deal with that. He noticed his now heavy grapefruit balls and felt better. He looked around as if searching for something or someone but gave up and went back to rubbing his balls. Ian stepped out and he was massive! At least 7 feet tall and he had a huge chest and cock. He was so muscled that he looked like a living morph. His hairy chest must have been over 70 inches and biceps 30”. His lats forced his arms up and the colossal quads rubbed together like two tanned diamond striated carvings of marble. With each step his cock and balls bounced, forced in front by the lack of space between his legs. A Muir cap was on his head and he wore a leather vest and kilt. His obscenely huge balls hung out of the short kilt and The two foot soft cock popped over the waistband. Chuck jumped up and began to suck Ian’s cock as Ian rubbed Chuck’s buzz cut head playfully. “That’s a good slave boy. Do your duty for your Master!” Ian chuckled and had no idea how things had turned out like this but he wasn’t complaining. He spotted Dane and the twinkified Brad. “You two make a cute couple. Damn you’re hot Dane!” “Likewise.” replied Dane. “You’re so huge! You could be a World’s Strongest Man contestant!” Ian laughed and rubbed his now bearded chin. “Definitely something to think about. We should find the others and see if they changed as well. Elsewhere in the park. Peter and James were looking around a ride called ‘Wild Thing.’ “Release Your Inner Beast!” was on the large poster outside the venue. Seth suddenly leaped out at them and grabbed them by their arms. He dragged them into the ride loading area and used plastic zip ties to bind their wrists to the pressure bar on the ride after he shoved them in. He started up the ride but it took a couple minutes for the automatic circuits to check the ride. Seth got in the lead car and snapped down the lap bar over his wide chest. His face was a snarl as the hair of his lush beard stood out at all angles from the plane of his face. The controls had broken so an attendant was not required to start the ride. The timer began to count down the 20 seconds before the car would pull away. Suddenly a pair of strong hands managed to snap the bindings on James’ wrists and he was pulled off the car. Eric had seen Seth drag the two pledges inside and he had hurried to catch up. The binds on Peter’s wrists were extra tight. Eric almost had them off then the ride lurched forward and to avoid being pulled into the track Eric had to jump into the seat behind Peter. The car shot down a deep ramp and then over a few corkscrews. Another tunnel was ahead and as the train lunged into the darkness everything went black. Eric, Peter and Seth were blind for a moment then visions of animals appeared for them. Pete saw a multitude of different bears. Eric saw huge thick bulls and oxen. Seth, unlike the others, saw dolphins and porpoises. A massive flash of light and they came out of the tunnel and the ride was over. Peter snapped the zip ties and he roared breaking the lap bar as he stood up. Already a light beard was growing and he was gaining height and strength. His body hair and beard thickened as he hit 6’8” then 6’10”. Eric was moaning as over 300 pounds of muscle piled on his frame and his spine elongated. He ended up over 7’4” and almost 600 pounds of thick muscle. He rubbed his new muscle gut and chuckled, realizing his voice was much deeper. He too had grown a beard and it felt amazing to him. He exited the ride and saw the new Peter. “Hey looking hot Peter!” he said. “You’re hot too and It’s Pete now!.” The two had a feel of one another’s colossal forms then they cummed in unison. A thick pool of their combined seed was on the ground. They heard a moan and realized Seth was still seated. They walked down and found Seth in a very different body.He had gotten somewhat shorter, down 5 inches from 6’3” and his generous beard was no more. His obvious chest hair tufts no longer poked through his now oversized tee. His face was more angular and attractive with a straighter nose and higher cheekbones. As he stood Eric and Pete saw his large round bubble butt and slightly narrowed shoulders. “What happened? He asked in a higher octave of voice than before. His buzz cut was now a wavy mass of hair. He rushed over to a mirror next to the height limitation chart and yelped “What am I?” “Dude, it’s okay we were all changed!” said Eric walking over and placed an enormous hand on Seth’s shoulder. “Not all of us” proclaimed James who stood in his usual tall lithe body. “Some wild body morphs, huh?” Pete and Eric smiled and nodded in agreement. I think we should regroup” said James. “How many frat guys followed us in?” he asked Eric. “Me and 4 others; Barry, Brad, Seth, and Chuck” was Eric’s reply. ”I wonder what happened to them?” said Eric thinking out loud. Pete smiled and spoke “let’s find out shall we?” The four men head off to find the others with Pete carrying Seth who seemed very drained from his transformation. Eventually the group of seven frat members and pledges met up in a vending machine area.the machines were on auto dispense so no one had to find quarters or other cash. They quickly feasted on packaged sandwiches and snacks that, oddly, did not have expired Use By dates. There was even a pizza vending machine and popcorn maker. The quickly got food and sat around the grand entrance to the park. Just after he slammed down his bottled protein shake Ian asked how everyone was. Dane and Brad sat together kissing on and off while Barry and Pete were discussing lifting techniques. Chuck was at Ian’s feet enjoying some french fries as James eyed him quizzically. Eric reached a hand around and tweaked Ian’s titanic left nip and Ian groped him back. Seth sat and swirled his hand in the Cupid fountain. Everyone was in good spirits. Time seems to stand still for the group. The equivalent of days and days of relative time seemed to pass for the nine men. An indeterminate amount of time later the first rays of daylight shined into the main hall of the park. The guys woke up and knew it was time to head home. As the beams reached Brad in an embrace with Dane his small body expanded back to its original size. He looked at Dane with a tear in his eye. Dane said “It’s okay babe, even in your old body I know you’re a twink at heart and I’ll always be here for you.” He then kissed Brad who returned the kiss. Seth was shocked to find himself back in his brutish hairy body but he knew some shaving and exercise could get him back to the swimmer’s build he wanted. His face retained his new more handsome contours. Chuck found his body hair back as well but he found it irritating as it rubbed against his original clothes. His cock ring was still there and it made him happy to know he’d find a new master to train him right. He kept a few inches of the gained height but he knew he was now and forever a sub slave boy. Barry and Peter didn’t change back at all. They both enjoyed their new bodies and were glad to keep them. A fast grope session became something more as the pair walked off for some more private time alone. Ian and Eric also kept their enormous forms and Eric in particular was happy that he could be openly gay now. The two muscle men snuggled for a little longer before they gathered Ian’s stuff and his now comically small sleeping bag. James sat on a marble bench looking down at the group. He had decided to go to Med school and perhaps become a surgeon to help people make more real life transformations. The men walked out the now open main door into the day and smiled. Each had been transformed in new and unexpected yet wanted ways. The physical morphing of their bodies had been temporary for some but their inner selves were permanently transformed; becoming happier and more open individuals. When the group reached the frat house the pledges were asked to join formally and all did. Over time people asked about what had happened at the park but they never told. “Go check it out yourselves, it’s quite the trip. Many members did so in the following weeks and left similarly transformed. Months later the frat changed its name to Chi Omega Kappa and was an openly gay frat. No one noticed or questioned the new massive sizes of some of the frat brothers. Everyone thought that they had always been like that which saved many hours of explanations. The original nine guys went on with their lives. Over time Eric’s glutes grew to bubble butt proportions as more of the twink in him became evident. Dane and Eric remained a couple even as Eric was recruited for the National Football League. Dane stayed an English major and became a novelist. The two settled down to a happy life and traveled often after Eric’s NFL time was over. Seth became a champion swimmer who glided through the water like a dolphin. He kept his body shaved for swimming and because he liked feeling smooth. He discovered a love of acting and met his future partner in Drama class and went on to become well known on Broadway and the Theater in general. Chuck found a new master who he adored. The big man helped him become the perfect slave boy. Chuck knew his master loved him and the master/slave routine was eventually dropped when they started to live together. Chuck also went to the NFL along with Barry who he remained friends with. Barry and Pete moved in together after college. After Barry got drafted into the football league Pete followed him around and they eventually got married. A few years later they bought a home and Barry became a college coach and Pete a master carpenter and sculptor. His strong hands helped him easily work stone and wood into amazing forms. Ian and Eric were a happy couple and Eric did pursue Strongman competitions and became a popular winner and advocate for gay rights. Ian got degrees in English and Biology, A Master’s in English Literature and Technical Writing, and a Doctorate in Education. He wrote science articles and gay fantasy fiction on the side or perhaps it was vice versa? Eric opened a gym to train young LBGTQ youth and adults to be physically able to protect themselves and live their lives unafraid. James went to medical school and became a doctor specializing in reconstructive surgery and prosthetics. He wanted to help people recover from body altering trauma and he was good at it. He developed several new skin graft and wound healing technologies as well as advanced muscle connectors to bypass paralysis and help people to walk again. Some of his friends called him the Bionic Doc. He found a partner and had a happy home life More people found their way into the old theme park for more than a decade after the frat guys visited before it was demolished to add more buildings to the University. Even today rumors persist that anyone living in one of the dorms on the spot may find himself changed. The End
  7. galaxymuscless

    My Captions ENGLISH and SPANISH

    SPANISH Un día mi hermano menor se compró un extraño videojuego durante una venta de garaje, el juego se llamaba "Quest for muscles" y parecía una copia barata de skyrim en el explorabas un mundo abierto mientras peleabas con monstruos y subías de nivel. Sin embargo, había ciertos detalles que eran inquietantes el avatar de mi hermano era una copia casi idéntica de el incluso en el cuerpo era flacucho y bastante más bajo que la mayoría de los npc además cuando lo subía de nivel en lugar de estas comunes como Magia, inteligencia, destreza habían sido remplazados por cosas como bíceps, tríceps, pectorales, estatura, etc. cada vez que el personaje de mi hermano subía de nivel estos stats aumentaban ligeramente. No le di mucha importancia y dejé a mi hermano con su videojuego mientras yo me fui a dormir me costó un poco por que escuchaba ruidos de mi hermano aun jugando. "En algún momento se cansará" pensé mientras me quedaba profundamente dormido, ala mañana siguiente me desperté y los ruidos del videojuego aun sonaban ahora si estaba enojado ese enano había estado jugando sin parar toda la noche. Ese fue el colmo camine hacia su cuarto para darle una paliza por no parar de jugar. pero algo hizo detenerme al abrir la puerta en lugar de encontrarme a mi escuálido hermano menor en su lugar había un hombre gigante, sus piernas eran tan largas que sus enormes pies colgaban unos cm sobre la cama, pero lo más impresionante era su físico, sus bíceps eran del tamaño de melones, uno de sus pectorales era más grande que mi cabeza y a través de sus apretadas ropas se podía ver unos marcados abdominales. sin embargo, Lo que hizo que me congelara es cuando vi la cara del hombre gigantesco, unida por un grueso cuello estaba la cara de mi hermano menor con todo y sus gruesas gafas de nerd, sus ojos estaban fijos en la pantalla de la tv y en sus manos tenía aun el control de la video consola el cual se veía diminuto en sus enormes manos. En ese momento volteé a la pantalla y pude ver al avatar de mi hermano ahora con un cuerpo enorme matando a unos monstruos y subiendo de nivel."Genial! ¡Al fin llegue al nivel 100!" grito de repente mi hermano en una voz ahora más gruesa y varonil volteo hacia mí no se había dado cuenta de mi presencia y sonrió con una sonrisa malévola"Hola hermano una disculpe creo que me quede algo adicto a este juego, pero creo que valió la pena" dijo mientras hacía saltar sus redondos pectorales yo solo me quede en espectáculo mientras mi hermano "pequeño" se levantaba de la cama y su cabeza se elevaba más y más y más.... ENGLISH One day my younger brother bought a strange videogame during a garage sale, the game was called "Quest for muscles" and it looked like a cheap skyrim copy in which you explored an open world while fighting monsters . However, there were certain details that were disturbing the avatar of my brother was an almost identical copy of the even in the body was skinny and short most of the npc looked taller than his avatar, in addition when he was leveling up instead of the common stats like Magic intelligence, dexterity they had been replaced by things like biceps, triceps, pectorals, stature, etc. every time my brother's character level up these stats increased slightly. I did not give much importance and left my brother with his video game while I went to sleep ,it took me a while because I heard noises of my brother still playing. "At some point will get tired" I thought while I was sound asleep, the next morning I woke up and the sounds of the video game still sounded now if I was angry that dwarf had been playing without stopping all night. That was the last straw I walked to his room to give him a beating for not stopping playing. but something made me stop when I opened the door instead of finding my scrawnt younger brother in his place there was a giant man, his legs were so long that his huge feet hung a few cm out of the bed, but the most impressive was his physique, his biceps were the size of melons, one of his pectorals was bigger than my head and through his tight clothes you could see some marked abs. However, what made me freeze is when I saw the face of the gigantic man, joined by a thick neck was the face of my younger brother with everything and his thick nerd glasses, his eyes were fixed on the TV screen and in his hands he still had control of the video console which looked tiny in his huge hands. At that moment I turned to the screen and I could see my brother's avatar now with a huge body killing monsters and leveling up."YEAH!, finally reach level 100!" Suddenly my brother shouted in a voice now thicker and more manly, he turned towards noticing my presence and smiled with a malevolent grin"Hello, brother, sorry I think I was somewhat addicted to this game, but I think it was worth it" he said while bouncing his round pectorals I just stayed in shock while my "little" brother got up from the bed and his head was it rose more and more and more ....
  8. Author's Note: I’ve done ~1000 word captions for a while in the blog section, but this is the first time I'm tackling a larger story. I welcome all feedback! This first foray into larger writing is very loosely based on a caption I did a long while back, you can read it, and see the pics that inspired this story here. A big thanks to: @ABSQRST for encouraging me to make this story happen. @Muscleace for providing pics to inspire this story throughout, and being a saint and checking my work. Broken. In a large mansion somewhere in the Southern US, a woman was experiencing the best banging of her life. “Oh fuck...” She sensually moaned, while going through the sixth orgasm of that hour. She clutched into the big arms of the man giving her ecstatic pleasure, feeling the muscle move and throb in his big bicep. She wasn’t aware the arm she was clutching had only been as thin as a stick just a few weeks ago. That the rod giving her divine pleasures had been the size of a peanut a couple of dozen days back. How was she supposed to? The girthy cock providing her bliss and the muscular body it was attached to had been an international sensation for years. Well, it had been in this tampered with, broken, version of reality. Time and space were out of order. And only a two people were aware of the discord within the fabric of Everything. One of them was Brandon, for the moment ogling how his muscular stallion of a brother impaled a girl with his massive meaty shaft. The other was Reggie, Brandon’s brother, and currently enjoying having his dick be tightly pressed in the pussy of some bimbo while he watched from the corner of his eyes how puny Brandon tried to subtly gawk at his behemoth like form. The fact that the author of the current fragmented shape of reality and its main victim were the only ones aware of the deranged state of the natural order was of course hardly a coincidence. But there is little one can do if they know the arrangement of the universe is out of order, besides sitting back and going along with the ride. Sitting back and enduring the torturous ride was exactly what Brandon was doing while he watched his brother fuck a girl senselessly, the luxurious bed creaking in sync with the loud moaning of the girl. “Condom!” Reggie growled, while he pulled out his gigantic cock from the strained pussy with a plop. That was Brandon’s queue. He looked at the meaty rod in a raincoat with a mixed feeling of disgust and lust before slowly peeling the tightly stretched piece of rubber off the cock. Pre-cum had soaked the shaft and most of it got on Brandon’s fingers while he tried to remove the condom. With the piece of protection removed, Reggie’s cock once again stood in its full glory, veins spread out over the gigantic piece of meat. It had to be longer than thirteen inches, and girthy enough it was probably pushing past nine inches in circumference. Like everything about Reggie, it was huge, masculine, and sexy. Hurriedly Brandon grabbed a fresh condom from a box sitting at the foot of the big bed, and pulled it over the throbbing member. Reggie immediately went back to his mission of showing the girl on the bed what a real man felt like, the mushroom sized head and long shaft once again out of Brandon’s view. Brandon looked at his fingers for a moment, the pre cum that had soaked his fingertips mesmerizing him, urging him to take a small sip of his brother’s salty taste. Brandon tried screaming to himself that he wasn’t gay, and that the thought of tasting another man’s cum shouldn’t even be in his mind, but the fingers went into his mouth regardless. It tasted better than anything else in this broken version of reality. Brandon sighed. His brother had being fucking this girl for hours, he had been there beside him the entire time. Someone had to be. Reggie needed fresh condoms applied every ten minutes, otherwise they might overflow with his pre cum and snap. And the sex god himself certainly wasn’t going to waste his precious time refreshing his custom-made XXXL rubbers. Seeing the muscles that made up his brother’s wide back move with the rhythmic thrusts had made Brandon incredibly hard, and he counted himself lucky his own puny penis was too small to ever be obvious. Standing there, watching his brother bring pure bliss to the latest pussy he was destroying made Brandon strongly nostalgic for the old Reginald, or Reggie, he remembered from the unbroken version of reality. The version of his brother that had been shy and cute, runty and nerdy, inexperienced and overexcited, and small yet resilient. His cute lil’ brother Reginald. There was barely a shadow of him left in the beast fucking who was fucking this latest bimbo into cloud nine. No, this rendition of his brother was almost the exact opposite of the version of his brother Brandon remembered. Strong and virile, confident and cocky. And with a body to back that cockiness up. God that body. Runty had made way for hunky. The strong edges of incredible muscle definition had replaced the formerly boney body. And there was the fact that this distorted version of his brother was no longer a pale rose like white. Instead, Reggie’s skin now was a deep dark black, shimmering and absorbing the rays of the light like a dark calla lily in the spring sun. To say it simply, Brandon remembered his brother as tiny Reginald, a sorry excuse of a man. But this version of reality provided him with Reggie, someone who had always been a proper stallion who earned thousands each day by simply selling old stretched out and drenched underwear to one of his 4.2 million Instagram followers. He’d feel sorry that he had lost his nerdy bro to the beast of sex his brother had become if it wasn’t for the fact Reggie had designed this twisted version of the universe. The soft moaning of the girl got increasingly louder as he approached her seventh orgasm of the day until all sounds of arousal suddenly dried up and ceased. “What’s wrong babe.” Reggie’s deep and sensual voice inquired. The girl hesitated for a moment, lost in the globe like form of Reggie’s pecs while she tried to find her tongue. “It’s your brother... When I see his head poke out behind your muscular chest it just... Dries up down there. Can’t one of you’re hunky friends do the condom refreshments? Maybe the handsome model that likes playing with your pecs?” She finally asked. Brandon didn’t need to be told twice. This wasn’t the first time a girl had complained about puny Brandon managing to offset the arousal Reggie managed to awake. He shuffled out of the room, the intense fucking continuing as soon as his shrimpish body was out of view. He closed the door behind him, noticing only how thick and warm the air was in there with sex now that he was out of it. Brandon sighed, he should have been thankful he was out of that room, instead he longed for watching his brother fuck. He hadn’t even got to see his brothers legendary cum fountain. Brandon’s thoughts about his brothers cum fountain were interrupted when felt a boney finger prick in his side, noticing that he had to look down to talk to someone for the first time in forever. Reggie stood at a commanding 6’8 and Brandon had begun to think he was never going to get above someone’s pecs ever again. Brandon shouldn’t be someone to talk on this front, with his current body and all, but man who had tried getting his attention was awfully pathetic looking. Old, puny, and long past his prime. Going by the expensive looking suit, probably with the only redeeming factor of being filthy rich. “How much longer do you reckon they’ll be going at it?” The man asked in a nasally voice. Noticing the ring he had around his finger Brandon relatively easily deduced this was probably the husband and sugar daddy of the bimbo currently drowning in Reggie’s voluminous muscle. “Probably an hour or two more, at the least. Depends if Reggie wants to cum one time or many. He can go on for as long as he wants.” Brandon felt a little awkward as he saw the man having to rearrange his package after learning that information. Brandon tried maneuvering away from the man, but he suddenly felt the strangers warm hand clutching him tightly. Brandon hated how easy he was able to be overpowered, even boney seniors like this one. “Do you think he’ll mind if I watch? I think I could really… Uh. Learn something seeing an expert like him pleasure my wife.” Brandon was reminded of the time he himself had tried to spy on one of his brother’s orgies, after being discovered Reggie had forced him through the humiliating experience of undressing and showing off just how much the brothers were unlike each other. The girls' laughter as Brandon’s puny two inch penis was put next to his brothers horse cock was still fresh on his mind. Brandon had learned his lesson about spying on his brother when it wasn’t wanted. “Oh, Reggie will definitely mind.” Brandon mumbled. This was probably one of the few occasions where the rich guy couldn’t get what he wanted. Brandon saw that as an excellent opportunity to teach the guy a lesson or two about what being rich meant to the alphas of this world. “But, uh, if you sit under the desk he definitely won’t be able to spot you.” Brandon innocently lied. The rich man’s expression lit up, running into the room where his wife was being fucked by the sexiest man on the planet with an unmatched eagerness. “Idiot.” Brandon mumbled under his breath. He hoped the guy was as much into humiliation as he was into cuckoldry, because when Reggie was going to spot him a few minutes in he probably was going to learn the hard way what happened to people not paying the multimillion dollar entry ticket to watching the finest male specimen fuck. Brandon shrugged, when you were reduced to a small dicked wimp you had to take the few opportunities to make yourself feel in control you could get, even if that included throwing others under the bus. Brandon looked at the cheap watch he had around his wrist. Already been a few minutes since he did the last condom refresh, he should probably find his replacement if he didn’t want his brother to impregnate another girl. The small man shuffled down the hall, the loud moaning of the girl slowly fading into the background, and the whimpers of a twink slowly faded into the foreground. Brandon sighed, there was no escape to the amount of hunky men in this house. Opening the door he saw his brother’s friend, Zack being worshiped by a small gymnast while he threw around massive weights. Brandon sighed, Zack had always been a friend of his brother, even in the true version of reality. The two nerds had played plenty of Xbox games together when Brandon had been forced to babysit his scrawny teen brother. Not that there was even a small trace of gaming obsessed Zack left in this variation of the real. No, instead of a nerd who asked if E-sports counted when you asked him if he did sport, and finished high school looking as thin as when he had entered it, Zack was now a pro bodybuilder who had been throwing out weights heavier than his body weight since he was 14. Brandon felt kind of bad Zack, he had been a smart kid but had always been in the shadow of his brother massive intellect. Now his professional trained body was in the shadow of his brothers rock hard and massive muscles, Reggie not even sticking with a diet and throwing around weights only occasionally when he could pull himself away from fucking had more size than the trained athlete. Don’t get Brandon wrong, Zack was massive, but he was also living together with only man who outshone him in every regard. At least it had taught him to stay humble and nice, unlike Brandon’s now cruel brother. Brandon knocked on the now open door, trying to get ripped man’s attention. He was in the middle of benching 400, while the twink was giggling and feeling the pecs flex and grow under his small hand. It took a couple of knocks to get the muscle behemoths attention. “Yo! Brandon’s, What’s up?” Zack said, while effortlessly continuing his lifts. “It’s Reggie, you’re on condom duty.” The hunk immediately stopped his reps, standing up right so quickly that the twinks small fingers had to dig deeply into the grooves of Zack’s abs to not fall to the ground. “Thanks Bran!” The hunk said, nervously fixing his hair and bouncing his pumped up pecs in the mirror. Brandon had the slightest suspicion the big man might have a crush on Reggie, going by his nervousness around the stallion and the pile of Reggie’s used condoms Zack had stuffed in his drawers. Brandon looked at the twink Zack had hurriedly set down and back to big man. “I, uh, didn’t know you had a thing for smaller guys too. I could suck you off some time, if you want…” Brandon’s started unsurely. Zack looked at him caught of guard for a moment. “Eh, I do have a thing for twinks. But, ehhh…” Zack shuffled around a little, trying to find the right words. “But. You might be a bit too… Weak? To fully handle my throat fucking I mean. Sorry man.” Zack said, while throwing him a gentle smile. Brandon bit his lips, trying his best to hide his disappointment. Going by the gentle “Awww.” coming from Zack he guessed he did an awful job. “Some of the guys downstairs desperately need to be drained after their workouts though, maybe you can ask around if they want to be serviced?” Zack looked at Brandon again. “Might have to be a glory hole type situation though, with your face and all…” Zack gave Brandon a friendly tap on his head before walking over to Reggie’s room. The big man looked just a bit too excited for someone who was going to be replacing condoms for the next few hours. Brandon sighed. The sound of iron on iron coming from downstairs was incredibly loud, and he wasn’t looking forward to being thrown around by the thickly muscled jocks. Maybe they’d leave him alone for once, but the small man doubted it. There really was no escape to oversized muscles in this house. As quietly as possible the small man made his way down the stairs. Grunts and growls slowly rose to his ears, Brandon knew that the best way for some of his dignity to survive today he was to remain as hidden as possible. The ground floor smelled entirely like the home gym that occupied a small part of it. Sweat seemed to reek from every surface, even the hired cleaning crew couldn’t scrub the smell of testosterone and manliness from the walls. The home gym was packed with jocks, the open door allowed Brandon a glimpse into the den of muscular men honing their bodies within. Brandon could spot Taylor and Cayden doing bicep curls in front of the large mirror adorning the wall. Brandon knew the two were in the normal version of reality chess champions, and had been so scrawny they had been beaten up by fifteen year olds when they had started college. Not that there was any vestige of that version of them now. No, now they had been high school football heroes, packed with muscle, and currently YouTube celebrities while they documented what it was like living with ‘Red-Blooded Reggie’. Brandon felt his cock push painfully against his jeans again, seeing these jocks pump up their biceps. It was painful to admit that even though these sportsmen had no recollection of ever being nerdy and scrawny chess players, the idea that they had been made their current masculine bodies even sexier. Brandon gazed intensely at them for a moment, the exercise had coated their bodies in a nice thick layer of sweat, and had them too preoccupied to notice the tiny emasculated man ogling them in the mirror. Brandon went from eyeing their backs to seeing their mouthwatering pecs in the mirror. In that same mirror he caught a quick glance of himself, a sight he still hadn’t quite adjusted too. The small size, the loss of muscle mass, it’s something you feel every moment of the day. It isn’t that bad, in that way, you have more time to grow accustomed to it. Being turned from handsome to unsightly and repulsive is not something one easily adapts too however. Brandon traced over his skin with his hand, feeling over all the new acne and zits he could see in the mirror. The color of skin being turned from white to a deep dark black was the only change his brother had made to the fabric of reality he felt somewhat okay about. It was overshadowed however by the fact that Reggie had stripped away his previous life as a college athlete. Suddenly Brandon’s thoughts were interrupted when he made eye contact with Taylor in the mirror. “Brandon, bud! Why won’t you be a good twerp and grab me a towel?” The big man commanded while continuing his reps. Taylor was easily lifting 35’s in hammerhead dumbbell curls, Brandon knew those were just his warm-up weights. He considered his options for a moment, before deciding he probably had little choice but to obey. Brandon tried his best to not get distracted by all the eye candy he could see as he made his way through the gym. Grunting could be heard from all corners of as all the men in the home gym focused on getting their bodies beyond perfection, and maybe even close to the big black man upstairs. The sounds of the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall could even be heard here, even the loud moans of the girl Reggie was fucking into cloud nine dangled in the air, and it undoubtedly motivated all these beasts to push their bodies even further. At least being friends with Reggie had provided them with the best training materials around. Grabbing a towel from the pile and throwing it into Taylor’s direction he hoped he was finally done and could get to the privacy he so desperately needed, but the big man thought otherwise. Taylor just had to give on lasting look at the towel lying on the floor while continuing his reps for Brandon to get the message. The scrawny man quickly grabbed it from the floor and indecisively stood with it in his hand for a moment. Taylor just gave him another intense glare, which was enough for Brandon to slowly start cleaning up the thick layer of sweat coating the impressive man. Brandon thought it was a rather futile exercise, Taylor was likely going to continue exercising for hours more and the sweat cleaned up now would be back in a matter of minutes. Not that he could really complain though, feeling the power pulsing through these triceps was an experience. Slowly feeling the muscular arm grow even bigger with each rep made Brandon even harder than he thought was possible. Taylor was completely focused on his own reflection in the mirror, either checking out his form, or ogling at how amazing his own muscles looked. With a final heaving breath Taylor completed his set and placed the weights back in their rack, checking out his own pumped reflection. He smirked, seeing the puny man stand on his toes to clean up the sweaty arms with the already drenched towel. “Good job. Wanna feel my pump, little guy?” Taylor asked with a smirk. Brandon couldn’t nod fast enough, his lips suddenly feeling awfully dry. With an innocent smile Taylor held out his arms, Brandon grabbed on like a kid seeing candy. It somehow managed to feel even better without the towel in the way, the skin to skin contact only enhancing the feeling of these muscles moving and cascading with every little movement. The small black hand on the gigantic bulging bicep formed an ‘interesting’ contrast too. Taylor was very much aware of the awe plastered on Brandon’s face. He gave another cocky smirk before mumbling “Watch this little man.” in his deep baritone. Without any further warning the muscle in Brandon’s hand flexed, the pumped up bicep growing to a hardness of granite. Of course Brandon’s hand couldn’t stop the advance of the swelling and throbbing bicep, and his fingers were instantly pushed apart by the flexed muscle. For a moment Brandon felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was lost in the memories of the day, his brother’s fucking, Zack’s globe like pecs bouncing up and down excitedly and now Taylor’s cannon ball sized biceps in hand. It made Brandon feel... wrong. Because it was wrong, all those guys were supposed to be tiny and twerpy, that was how Brandon remembered them. But above else it made him feel small, his own below average body felt even more insignificant in this house of masculinity. That experience of feeling small, combined with another twitch in Taylor’s bicep, was what pushed Brandon over the edge. He couldn’t help but moan and tightly clutch into Taylor’s bicep as he felt his small dick spew out his few drips of cum. The world came crashing back down as Brandon heard laughter spread all throughout the home gym. “Can’t stop yourself from shooting a load in front of us for just a week, huh Bran?” “You probably wished you had biceps like Taylor, right little guy?” “Glad we still got you whenever we feel small around Reggie.” “Jesus, you call those three tiny drops of cum an orgasm?” Chuckles continued hanging in the air, the entire gym had seen the embarrassing display. Brandon’s cheeks flushed instantly to an intense scarlet. He wasn’t even sure why the thought of him being smaller than all these men had aroused him so much. He quickly covered up the small sticky spot in the front of his trousers with his hand and hurried out of the room, the sound of iron on iron continuing as the gym went back to its workout. “Oh Brandon! Hold on for a moment.” Taylor said. The smaller man stopped in his tracks right away, his urge to please the big jocks trumped his need to get away from embarrassment. “Reggie told me he’s gonna give you some more ‘juice’ to work with as soon as he’s finished upstairs, you better be ready and waiting.” Taylor said nonchalantly. Taylor gave him a final wink. A glister in his eye hinting at the fact that making Brandon cum had been his exact plan, before turning away again and starting his next set of curls. Brandon had wanted to run aside and get some fresh air for the next few hours, but Reggie apparently wanted to get back to work as soon as he was finished stretching out his toy. Well, to the extent you could call it work. Brandon sighed, and headed for the only room he hated as much as the gym in this house, his own room. Brandon walked past the dozen or so bedrooms of the jocks on his way to his own room. All the bedrooms on the ground floor were quite large, maybe not of the caliber of the two rooms upstairs, but still large and spacious enough to house many littering weights and posters of scantily clad women. With the amount of large bedrooms and the home gym it was probably fairer to call this place a mansion than a house. Brandon allowed himself to enjoy the quiet in the kitchen for a moment, the sounds of sex and workouts now far in the distance. Brandon gathered as much courage and strength as he could muster, and open a small tightly shut door in the far back of the house. The strength he had gathered hadn’t just been for opening the tight door, it had also been for the contents awaiting him on the other side. The smell hit Brandon before his eyes could even spot its source. Deep manly musk, denser than anywhere else in this house filled with testosterone laden men, emanated out in waves. Brandon took a final breath of fresh air and closed the door behind him, there had been complaints before of the scent lingering in the kitchen, the door had to be closed at all times to prevent the smell from seeping out. The small room looked like a storage unit, stacked with metallic shelves. In the corner stood a small desk and a bed. Carefully Brandon maneuvered in between the tightly together placed shelves and plopped down on the bed. This weird distortion of reality he was living in would be more habitable if his own room didn’t reek of manly men. Brandon tried not to think to hard about the jugs filled with Reggie’s cum that occupied the shelves and were the origin of the deep salty stink. If he thought about the ropes of his brothers spunk he was lying next to he’d probably get hard again. Although he hated this room, he was not only here to await doing his big chore for Reggie. Brandon grabbed the phone lying on the desk, the calm green waving hills of his background calming him somewhat. He opened up his Instagram, and was immediately greeted with thousands of messages asking a variety of wildly inappropriate questions. It wasn’t really Brandon’s account of course, no one would be asking that twerp if his cock was really the rumored baseball bat sized. No, it was Reggie’s account, Brandon ‘managed’ it, which didn’t really mean much besides posting the daily pictures of his brother being his manly perfect self. Brandon pulled up a picture from just last week, his brother standing on the beach with a few members of the nearby college sorority in resting against his bulging abs. Brandon considered for a moment if it was appropriate posting pictures of girls who were so aroused their bikinis were dripping wet, but then remembered their venomous remarks of ‘how unbelievable it was earth’s biggest hunk and earth’s biggest twerp being related by blood.’ Without much further consideration, Brandon typed up a half arsed caption about how you could get all the girls you wanted too, if you just followed the tips in Reggie’s new (ghostwritten by some lame pickup artist) book and hit ‘Post.’ Brandon shrugged, he felt bad for a moment, but reminded himself that all twerps and shrimps of the world had to use every opportunity to feel in control they could get. For next few hours Brandon worked himself through all the sponsor offers his brother had gotten. He submitted the video of Reggie bursting out of an UnderArmour shirt up for review for the sponsorship deal. He got a reply right away, telling him the $500,000 would be in his brothers bank account before sundown, as well a request to forward her number to Reggie himself, with a picture attached of her hourglass figure spilling out of her clothes. Brandon complied, his brother would probably enjoy a fresh piece of meat to stretch out. Suddenly Brandon’s door swung open, the large looming shadow, unable to pass through the door frame, could only belong to one person in this house of muscular men. “Done already, Reggie?” Brandon meekly asked, his boner returning with a full vengeance now, throbbing painfully. The big man shrugged, and carefully stepped into the room. The smell didn’t really seem to bother him, and he didn’t have the common reaction of pure repulsion and lust most had to seeing the room stacked to the brim with bottles of his own cum. “We were interrupted.” Reggie replied, his deep baritone shaking the glass bottles. Brandon was immediately reminded of the that frail businessman he had sent into Reggie’s sacred den of sex. Oops. “Can we just get this over with bro? I’ve got some things to… Handle.” Reggie asked, distracted by his own smell. The big man didn’t even award Brandon with showing off his handsome features, instead he looked at how his pecs were straining against the cashmere pajama. Brandon didn’t think he had all that many options. He was Reggie’s employee after all, he posted his pictures, and exported his ‘product’. “Let’s just get it over with.” Brandon mumbled. Quickly Brandon grabbed a small empty measuring cup from the corner of the room. Unceremoniously he handed it over the giant he called his brother. Reggie looked dazed for a moment. “I’ll need something to get me going man, I can’t just do this dry.” Reggie gave him an innocent look, but Brandon knew what he was talking about. Brandon quickly grabbed his laptop and was immediately embarrassed when he opened it up, it was still playing a video on Pornhub. And, even worse, it was a video featuring his brother, cockily grinning into a camera while hot girls tried to worship his gargantuan cock. Brandon wanted to close the tab but before he got to do so he heard Reggie growl that this material would be good enough. The small man placed the laptop down, Reggie’s complete attention was already focused on the video playing, he didn’t even notice Brandon anymore. It might be seen as arrogant to some to jerk off to a porn you star in, but it would be difficult to find anyone as perfect as ‘Red Blooded Reggie’ himself. Clearly the contents of the video was enough to ‘get him going’ as Reggie hurriedly stepped out of his pajama pants. His donkey dick was for the moment still soft, and swinging left and right between his thick quads. His cock didn’t show a sign of wear from the hours of use it had already went through today, and was beginning to pulse and throb seeing the action happening on screen. Brandon thought just looking at his brothers dick was doing him a disservice, and he eyed the rest of his lower body. He remembered Reggie’s measurements well, measuring Reggie was the highlight of his week. Thirty-four and a half inches of thighs. Twenty-two inch calves. All neatly stacked under a waist off under Thirty-eight inches. All of it was big and ripped, not an ounce of fat on his Adonis like body. The action on screen was heating up, and so was Reggie. He threw of his shirt, giving Brandon a look at his awesome chest. Sweat was draping between the crevices, giving his entire dark black skin a sparkling gleam. The only thing better than a ripped set of muscles was a ripped set of muscles coated in a layer of sweat. Brandon thought he could even spot the beginnings of a layer of chest hair and pubes, even though he knew Reggie had shoved both of those places just this morning. Having more testosterone pumping through your system than ten normal men is one hell of a drug. Brandon continued eyeing each and every muscle of his brothers hunky body. Sixty-two inch pecs, jutting out so much they could nearly pass for tits. Biceps twenty fou-. No, biceps were twenty-five inches as of the latest measurements. There wasn’t an inch on his brothers body that wasn’t oozing sex and masculinity. Having satisfied his silent worship for the moment Brandon paid attention again to the cock Reggie was jerking. It wasn’t handicapped by a condom, and it looked all the better for it. One of Reggie’s massive calloused mittens had tightly grabbed near the base of his protruding shaft. Reggie had no trouble maintaining a boner, even with his massive phallus, but it was much quicker to shoot a load if he kept his cock at its most aroused. And time was everything, this was just business after all. Though one might be easily mistaken to think this exercise was for pleasure, going by Reggie’s loud grunts as he stroked his shaft with his other hand. It was just a primal sight seeing someone so big, muscular and manly bring pleasure to himself. Simply watching someone jerk-off was much more erotic than it had any right to be when the one bringing pleasure to himself produced an interplay of flexing muscles with those long, long strokes over the big and thick shaft. Much like this morning, Reggie was very much aware Brandon’s eyes were burning into every fiber of his stallion like body. And much like this morning, the thought of his former big alpha bro being turned into a little bitch who watches hunky men with great shame turned Reggie on. Very much so. On screen Reggie saw himself shoot his first of many loads into some bimbo, the big man took that as the excuse to finally unload the contents of his balls he had been fighting to hold back. “Fuck!” Reggie roared, orgasms were so intense in this large body. Every fiber of his muscular body flexed at once, and pleasured washed over him. All thirteen inches of his cock felt like they were in heaven as ropes of cum traveled to their freedom. He aimed into the small, half a liter holding, cup and let his cum fountain loose. Rope after rope of cum filled the cup, the smell of manly musk somehow managed to grow even more intense and salty with this latest fresh batch. When the cup was half filled and Reggie felt no end in sight to his orgasmic bliss he realized he hadn’t emptied his balls for hours. Which probably wasn’t good if he didn’t want the cup to overflow and spray cum all over the carpet in Brandon’s room. The small man himself noticed too that the river of cum flowing out of his brothers cock was more voluminous than normal. Brandon thought for a moment at the two choices he had for just a few seconds. Either he could do nothing, and get an irremovable stain of his brothers cum branded into his carpet, likely ruining the chance of him ever not having a boner while being here for the rest of time, or he could help… Relieve the cups efforts. Brandon saw that while he had been thinking, the cup had flowed up right to the brim. Without much further thought Brandon jumped forward and placed his head on his brothers spewing cock. The pre-cum he had tasted a handful of times was nothing compared to the real deal. It was intensely salty and sweet at the same time. Thick like a milkshake it was a little hard to swallow down, but Brandon made his best attempt to keep up with the barrage of cum flowing out of the monstrous cock. After successfully managing to not choke for thirty seconds, Brandon managed to establish a pace to keep up with the continuing fountain of cum. He even let himself be carried away a little, tracing the head of his brothers cock with his tongue, and fondling around with Reggie’s bull sized balls. If Brandon hadn’t closed his eyes, he might have been able to spot Reggie biting on his lip. After the orgasmic wave had passed, and the flow of cum had slowed down to a dribble, slowly the realization of what just happened set in for both men. Slowly Brandon tried crawling away, but Reggie grabbed him by the collar and raised him till his small body was eye to eye with the hunk. “What did I tell you about touching my cock.” Reggie sneered, his eyes flaming intensely. “Fuckin’ faggot.” He muttered with great disappointment, before dropping Brandon back to the floor. Normally, this is where the conversation would have ended. Brandon watched while his brother stuffed his bubble butt and horse cock back into his pajama trousers and felt his cheeks once again turn red with a fiery passion. Brandon never talked back, Brandon never argued, Brandon never complained. But inside Brandon there was just the tiniest bit remaining of him before his brother had messed with the fabric of reality. It was a fragment of Bran, star lacrosse player and athlete. And that fragment burned brightly after this latest day filled with humiliation. “Don’t call me that.” Brandon whispered. Reggie chuckled, assuming he had misheard. “You don’t get to call me that.” The small man said with a little more self-assuredness. He raised himself from the floor and locked eyes with the paragon of masculinity standing across the room. “Oh? I don’t get to call out for being the gay dick sucker that you are? And why’s that?” Reggie still had his signature cocky grin plastered on his face, and his voice was still his normal base filled self, but he was a little surprised by Brandon’s new attitude. “You don’t get to call me that…Because… Because... Because you made me this way!” Brandon poked one of his fingers in between Reggie’s rock hard abs. “I was straight as an arrow before, you made me gay.” Brandon’s eyes were burning with rage now, a sparkle igniting in his eyes as fury spat out from his mouth. “Just like you made me from a jock into this pathetic twerp. Just like you made your nerdy friends into a group of weightlifting meatheads.” Reggie had wanted to say something but was quickly interrupted by another barrage of words spilling out of Brandon’s mouth. “So yes, I sucked your cock, but honestly, what did you expect? I have to collect your cum every day to sell it as a protein shake for your Instagram followers. I have to watch you have sex for hours on end, so I can refresh your condoms. I’m surrounded at all times of day by the sounds of sex and manly men being men. Excuse a guy, a guy you personally turned gay, for being a little horny.” Brandon had endured months of torture in this version of the world his brother had created without as much as a whimper. But finally his cup of built up rage had overflowed. “Back. Down. Twerp.” Reggie growled. “I told you not to mention how our lives were before I ‘fixed’ things.” Reggie continued while his maintaining his intense glare. And that, his brothers voice, was all it took for big brother Bran’s attitude to once again fade away into nothingness. His memories of being a big athlete who didn’t take shit couldn’t compute with the current broken version of reality. Brandon’s dull submissive gaze returned. Reggie crossed his arms over his ballooning pecs. Like a father who was disappointed. Or, well, a big ‘little’ brother that was disappointed. “Put today’s load of cum in the tanks. And start selling the previous loads, it’s $20,000 a ’protein shake’ and it’s good money.” Reggie ordered. Reggie stood authoritatively and towering over the small man. Brandon just nodded, his mouth awfully was dry. “Oh, and before I forget. That video I jerked off too on Pornhub is only supposed to be available on my website with a ten thousand dollar entry fee. Take it down.” The door slammed loudly shut behind the muscle stallion and Brandon was once again left alone. The tiny man obeyed his orders and went around doing what he was asked. He updated Reggie’s website listing the new ‘protein drinks’ promising awesome results. Brandon tried being happy with the thought his room wouldn’t be used as a storage unit for his brothers cum anymore, but the thought of not living in the big man’s musk was strangely uncomfortable. Brandon looked around but couldn’t find the labels he still had to slap op the bottles of poorly disguised cum. His brother probably had a few more lying around somewhere in the mansion. Brandon stepped outside, and wandered around for a few minutes. Reggie wasn’t in the dining room, or in game room. He found his brothers deep earthquake causing voice rise out from the kitchen. Brandon briefly glanced inside, but immediately took a few steps back. His brother had been standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, once again nude, and air fucking the bimbo from earlier. Reggie was probably upset his session from earlier had been so rudely interrupted by the old man Brandon had allowed in. One thing didn’t make sense however, the frail man was sitting there again, and his face hadn’t even been reduced to pulp. Brandon glanced into the room again, his brother wasn’t facing him and using the girl as a fleshjack. The frail man was jerking what looked to be the most pathetic cock in the world. Brandon couldn’t imagine the price tag on a session like this. It must cost the man a small fortune to have the privilege to jerk off while he watched while the biggest, sexiest man on the planet ruined his wife’s sacred passage. And god was he ruining her with his male perfection. The woman seemed nothing but a toy, an instrument, compared to the enclave of primal strength that made up Reggie’s body. She seemed to enjoy being treated like a pump for his throbbing oversized manhood however. She even managed to retain conscious enough to trace the veins criss-crossing over the swollen bicep of the black stud’s arm with her fingertips. “I bet I’m the biggest fucking guy you’ve ever been with.” Reggie loudly whispered in her ear. The bimbo could only reply with more moans of pleasure as she tried sliding down to take another inch of his throbbing fuck stick inside of her. She made a hard effort to not close her eyes in pleasure, wanting to savor every inch of Reggie’s muscularity while she learned the true meaning of bliss. Reggie seemed to consider the question he just asked for a moment, looking back and forth between the girl he was enjoying stretching out and the husband sitting in the corner. He clicked with his tongue. “It’s just too easy.” Reggie mumbled. His veined up and thick biceps, which had been used to effortlessly turn woman into his sex toy and suspend her in the air, gently placed her back on the ground. “What’s going on! You promised at least another two hours of fucking my wife. I paid good money for this!” The old man’s ferocious attitude was dampened with just one of Reggie’s intense glares. “ “Don’t worry man, you’ll get your money’s worth, and then some. Just need to…. Fix a few things.” Reggie mumbled while scratching an itch in the valley that made up his pecs. Brandon watched from the shadows while his brother opened up a small tightly locked vault nestled in the wall. “ “Oh no.” Brandon mumbled. “What’s that? A tablet?” The businessman asked in his nasally voice. Brandon couldn’t see the tablet in question, but he knew very well the only possession valuable enough to his brother he’d keep it tightly locked up. “I don’t recognize that brand. What does it say next to that genie logo on top, ‘Chronivac’? Have you ever heard of ‘Chronivac’ dear?” Brandon wasn’t the bimbo the frail old businessman has asked the question too, but he was all too familiar with the Chronivac. It was the device Reggie had used to break and bend reality with in accordance with his own whims. He had seen it just a few times. The first time was when Brandon, then still Bran, had come home from campus for the holidays. He had found his small brother Reginald obsessed by the tablet, Bran hadn’t even been sure where his wimpy bro had got it. His brothers preoccupied obsession had annoyed Bran, because who else was he gonna boast his lacrosse accomplishments to? By the time dawn broke the following morning Reginald’s, now Reggie’s, version of their lives started. A version of reality that seemed to at least be inspired by how the day’s prior events when Bran had flexed his seventeen inch bicep in front of his nerdy bro’s face while Reginald had the reality altering capable tablet in his lap. A version where Reggie had always been a giant stud of a man who was kind enough to house his wimp of a brother in his mansion. Brandon had seen the Chronivac just a few times after that. First so Reggie could grant his friends a smaller, less divine version of the godhood he had given himself. And then a couple of times after that whenever Reggie encountered a man with a body part larger than he had given himself. That’s how Reggie’s cock went from an already insane ten inches to an unbelievable cum cannon of thirteen inches. Brandon audibly swallowed, fearing for how his brother was going to use the all powerful device next. He feared a bit for the cuck’s safety, the man seemed to have gotten on his brother’s nerves. And things don’t end well for those who get on Reggie’s nerves, Brandon thought while looking at his own pathetic body. Reggie was feverishly tapping away on the tablet, leaving the couple looking at each other rather oddly. Brandon wondered how he was going to punish the man for the offense of existing in the same room as the primal sex god Reggie had become. Maybe Reggie was going to turn him dirt poor? Maybe only make him able to get off while watching how other men fucked his wife? Make him the cleaner that scrubbed away all the stains of pre-cum Reggie leaked around the house? “How much do you lift?” Reggie asked, in his thundering voice. The frail man looked around, half expecting someone to be behind him to whom the question was really aimed at. “I. Uh… Don’t understand.” The man said, while waving up and down his suited body. From how much his suit hung over his frame it should have been obvious he didn’t lift. Reggie smiled a wicked smile, and tapped a final time on the tablet before putting it away. He walked towards the couple, still completely nude. The Chronivac beeped “Changes applied” in a robotic voice from its safe spot back in the vault. “How much do you lift?” Reggie asked again. This time the businessman answered without skipping a beat. “330 Pounds on a good day” He proclaimed proudly, pounding on his outward jutting pecs for emphasis. If Brandon hadn’t already been familiar with the Chronivac and it’s abilities his mouth would have dropped wide open by now. Where mere moments ago had sat an old broken man, now a gray maned stallion rested. Some of his features had remained the same, but for the most part he was unrecognizable. His frail old body had made way for chunky muscles and a body that seemed to scream ‘Power!’ Brandon wondered for a moment why Reggie had rewarded the old man so. He had seemed more than a little annoyed at his existence just moments ago. Once Reggie started speaking however his plan became clear. “330? That isn’t even a warm-up weight for me.” The throbbing personification of manhood said while bouncing his pecs. “Guess that should have been to expected however, my pecs are an awful lot bigger than yours.” Reggie said while he strutted up right close to the newly hunky businessman, and let out a small chuckle. Reggie relished in emasculating men. But for men to be emasculated they have to have masculine pride to begin with. Reggie had just given the man a big body because now he had some self-esteem to actually crush while the man watched Reggie fuck the bimbo senselessly for hours. Reggie noticed the intense stares from both parties at his thick black sausage. It had gone soft again, and the uncut foreskin hung over it peacefully. “Hold on, I wanna check something.” Reggie mumbled. “Take out your cock.” He ordered, a grin already firmly planted on his face. The aged business hunk did not need much convincing. The meat he whipped out was also much different from the one Brandon had seen moments ago. It was big and virile now, like the body it was now attached to. It stood erect and was leaking, clearly aroused by the imposing powerful figure standing in front of him. From the distance Brandon was hiding from, he guessed it to be around eight inches long. Reggie’s cock remained completely soft, and he slowly pressed against the ripened white cock in front of him. Even while completely soft Reggie’s absurdly big cock seemed to be bigger than the eight-inch battering ram of the man. The alpha man let out a bellowing laugh. “Fuck, they crowned you ‘Best guy in porn’ with that cock? I’m not even hard I’m packing more heat than you.” Reggie said while pointing at his oversized cock for emphasis. Reggie let out another of signature cruel snickers while he pressed his soft meat more tightly into the silver haired stud. The ripened hunk’s breath slowed, clearly the sight of the erect white cock and the soft black one was arousing him just a bit. “God I’m such a fucking stud.” Reggie mumbled, letting just the slightest hint of disbelief intrude on his tone. As suddenly as Reggie had pressed their cocks together, he let them go. The big black man took a few steps back, and easily lifted the bimbo over his shoulders, letting her rest in between his mountainous chest while tightly keeping her in place by placing one of his gigantic mittens on her protruding ass. “C’mon then, I’ll show you how a real man fucks your girl.” Reggie said, while leading the way back to his bedroom with his big strides. Brandon had bundled up in the shadows and saw how Reggie was closely followed by the matured new hunk. When he heard the headboard slamming continue from upstairs he slowly arose from his hiding spot. Brandon tried to ignore his cock, which was painfully hard again, and walked into the kitchen intending to just grab a snack. Constant arousal makes a man hungry, even if he is pathetic looking. But before he could even take something from the fridge something else caught his eye. Something extraordinary careless. Something which Brandon hadn’t allowed himself to dream off even in his most pleasant nights. The vault housing the Chronivac was still open. Reggie must have gotten distracted by his instant urge to humiliate the second biggest guy in the room to remember to properly lock away the all powerful machine. Brandon’s hands shook while he took the tablet into his hands. The tablet turned on with a bleep. “CHANGE EVERYTHING” Quickly flashed in bold black letters on the screen while the Chronivac logo slowly faded in. Brandon still couldn’t believe it. This had to be some scheme of his brother again, right? Something else to punish him? There was only one way to find out. Testing it. Brandon made his way through the open tabs on the tablet. Sliders and boxes to check filled the screen in an unorganized and messy manner. Whoever had made the machine capable of messing with the fabric of space and time clearly wasn’t a graphic designer. His finger finally ended up on a name he thought he could use as a guinea pig. Taylor. Big Biceps Taylor. As soon as he opened up the window of Taylor’s name the Chronivac listed a plethora of suggested changes. Brandon could make Taylor even bigger. He could give Taylor an insatiable appetite for fucking the girls stretched out by Reggie. He could turn Taylor into a submissive shell of his former self who was only good for doing the dishes. Brandon bit his lips. So many options, better to start small. Lost in the sea of options Brandon’s eyes caught sight of the sexual orientation slider. Now that was interesting. A few moments, and a few sliders and checked boxes later, Brandon thought he was ready to see if this tablet really was the device capable of altering reality his brother had toyed with. Before Brandon could hit ‘Submit’ the Chronivac asked him who should be aware of the new changes. He unticked his brothers name, leaving only him to remember all the iterations of reality and history the universe had just gone through for the past few weeks. After a few seconds the device gave a pleasant buzz. “Changes applied” it murmured over its small speakers. Brandon couldn’t wait so see the result, quickly running to the home gym. He tightly clutched the Chronivac in his hands, still not entirely sure if this wasn’t one of his brothers cruel jokes. Looking into the home gym quickly convinced him the device he was holding was really capable of bending reality to his whims. Inside Taylor was still busy with his workout. Only now workouts included sucking Cayden off while he did his bench presses. Taylor’s long blond stylish hairs bounced up and down while he excitedly and with great expertise worked his friends shaft. “Nothing better than having testosterone pump through you while working out, right guys?” Cayden asked the filled out home gym, who all thought it was completely normal that Big Biceps Taylor was on his knees giving his best friend some head. Like he wasn’t the beast who had fucked his way through the entire cheerleading team. Taylor was working that engorged dick like it was his everyday business, licking along the veins of the shaft while he played around with Cayden’s plump and outward jutting pecs. It clearly got Cayden going, who grabbed the blond hunk by his hair and forced more of his manhood with the girth of a coke can into Taylor’s welcoming throat. Brandon’s head twirled for a moment before his mind cleared again. He had the most powerful device in the entire universe in the palms of scrawny hands. Time to set some things right. Brandon made his way back the kitchen, and opened up his own profile. He let his eyes hover over the recommended changes for a moment, grinning with glee while reading them. Brandon could turn himself into freak who completely overshadowed big Reggie. With a cock so enormous it could even make his brother’s oversized meaty rod look small. He could turn himself into the big bro again, like it was before Reggie meddled with things. The thought of having his own powerful black skinned body which oozed male sexuality made his still puny dick rock hard. Brandon was fully ready to turn himself into a paragon of muscle and size, but before he could hit the button applying the computer generated preset, he hesitated. Wouldn’t he and Reggie be back to start if he did that? Reggie would be back to being the smaller brother again, even if he was still a 6’8 feet of power. And as evident from the tortuous reality Reggie had created, that at every moment was to reinforce Reggie’s status as the big man between them, Reggie clearly thought he had a score to settle with Brandon for being the brother in the athletic spotlight for so long. Than an ever more demanding question jumped into Brandon’s mind. Did he really hate being the smaller brother as much as Reggie clearly did? Sure, the current version of reality was hell, but also an… Enjoyable hell? Not many versions of reality can make you orgasm multiple times of day without even having to touch your dick. And of course, some of that was his brothers work the and Chronivac’s programming, messing with his mind, but some of that was also Brandon’s own deep-rooted desires for servitude and humiliation, something that had even existed when he had still been a star Lacrosse player and a hunk. Now that Brandon had the ability to change everything and everyone in the world, he noticed how surprisingly okay he was with most of it. He could just make Reggie love being the smaller man, but Brandon would always carry the memories of his giant, rage filled, brother. Playing with Reggie to that extent just wouldn’t feel real. Brandon thought for a moment that I might be best not to change anything at all. Well, there was still the fact that he only saw Reggie when the big guy felt the need to once again state his superiority over small Brandon. The puny guy only saw his brother when the latter wanted to show off how great his cock looked when it was draped in other people’s bodily fluids. Brandon noticed only now how much he missed his brother. He just wanted both of them to be happy. But there was no need to feel sad, the Chronivac could fix things. Patch em right up, make Brandon be the only one remembering things when they still were out of order. Brandon smiled, he knew exactly what sliders to play with to set things right again. What buttons to turn to fix things. What to do to mend the scars Reggie had gashed into reality. Brandon knew how to repair the universe that was broken. --------------------- Three hours had passed and Brandon still wasn’t done. His eyes had been reduced to slits while he was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with his mouth open. He only half remembered to breath while his fingers feverishly flew over the screen. Brandon wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Brandon was so focused he didn’t even notice the house settling down and the sounds of sex coming from Reggie’s room slowly dying down. He was to obsessed with making sure every detail would be perfect he didn’t even hear the loud thuds of the giant man walking down the stairs. Brandon was so distracted he didn’t even see his big beefy brother till his shadow was looming over him. “Did you steal my iPad to jerk off to vids of me again?” Reggie snarled, while he grabbed Brandon by the collar and dangled him in the air for the second time that day. He must have not noticed the Chronivac logo on the tablet yet. Probably didn’t even consider someone else could mess up his perfect storm. Brandon couldn’t waste any more time, Reggie would probably register the logo in a few seconds and when he did all hell would break loose. He gave one last glance down at the tablets screen, seeing the long, long list of changes he’d apply to the fabric of space and time. He made sure his brother was set to ‘oblivious to changes’ like the rest of the world. Brandon saw Reggie’s eyes grow wild while he glanced over the black lettering spelling ‘Chronivac’. Brandon’s time was up. “Changes apply in: 12 Hours.” The robotic voice of the Chronivac chirpily announced. Fire sprung from muscular alpha’s eyes. Now Reggie’s time was up too. “What the fuck did you do, Brandon?” Reggie said. Fear was present in his voice. For the first time since he had turned his voice into a deep booming bass he sounded like Reginald, the chronically anxious nerd. Brandon shrugged. “I’ll guess we’ll see in twelve hours?” Brandon meekly tried. It took all the courage in his feeble body to look Reggie in the eyes. Reggie snatched the Chronivac out of Brandon’s hands. But as the small man had gambled, he couldn’t see the changes Brandon had queued. For a moment Reggie looked dumbfounded. His glorious chest glistered in afternoon sun. Sunlight always seemed to bend to hit his deep black chest whenever he was shirtless. He was wearing his pajama pants again, freeballing of course, there was no jock or underwear that could contain his manhood. Brandon didn’t he’d ever seen his brother’s bulge so flaccid, must be the terror. The dumbfoundedness lasted for a moment, and then Reggie regained his cocky composure. A grin once again adorned his face, like he was once again the most powerful man in the universe. He let Brandon drop to the ground, and walked out of the kitchen with big strides. Brandon ran behind him, panting to keep up with him. Still with the Chronivac in his hand Reggie walked outside into the yard, carelessly dropping the important machine on one of the logs Reggie used whenever he wanted to show off his woodcutting skills. “Careful! You’ll break it!” Brandon said, looking a bit anxiously at how Reggie treated the Chronivac. Reggie chuckled. Reggie left the Chronivac be and ran over to the shed at the far end of the large yard. Brandon made sure the device was still working, the “CHANGE EVERYTHING” tagline as it booted up reassuring him. It wasn’t like Reggie or Reginald to so carelessly treat his electronics. “Move. Or you’re getting smashed too.” Reggie’s deep voice boomed. Brandon had to crane his eyes fully upward to see what the big man was talking about. A heavy sledge hammer was resting in one of the big man’s thick hands. “Jesus Christ! Reginald what the fuck are you doing? Do you know what kind of power you’d breaking if you let that hammer come down?” Brandon didn’t even notice he had used Reggie’s ‘wimp name’ while in deep shock. Reggie’s tight grip over him was slipping, and the magic’s of the Chronivac hadn’t even been involved. Seeing the biggest, most muscular man you know in a state of absolute terror will do that. “I’m not going back to being a wimp again. I’m smashing this thing before those changes you queued will apply. You have one second to move or your brains are getting squashed alongside that tablet.” Reggie growled. Brandon wanted to calmly and rationally explain the changes he had made wouldn’t turn Reggie into a wimp, but he already saw the hammer come down. He skittered away just in time to see the sledgehammer make contact with the most powerful piece of hardware in the known universe. For a moment Brandon hoped the Chronivac would have been built to withstand such a blow. That whatever force had put it together, would have made sure it would have been immune to the damage caused by one of the most strongest men on earth swinging one of his sturdiest tools in the world at it. Turns out that even the people capable of putting a tablet together with the ability to alter reality can’t prepare it for the force of an angry Reggie using his mountainous muscles in a hammer swing. There was just a small, sad, cracking noise before the device’s screen splintered into a thousand pieces. On the wooden log the Chronivac laid broken, broken like the reality it had helped create. Reggie exhaled, his wide shoulders rumbling while he put the hammer down. “I guess that’s over.” He said, rather matter of factly. Brandon still couldn’t quite believe his brother had just smashed the most powerful object in the universe. He stammered for a moment, unable to find the words he was looking for. “Even if I turned you into a miserable twerp again, wouldn’t you just have been able to turn that back as long as you would have had the Chronivac?” Brandon asked, his thoughts scattered like the glass of the broken Chronivac. Brandon was beginning to feel like it had been a bad idea to queue the changes rather than applying them right away. His one chance at making things better seemed to have been squashed. Literally. “Who says you’d still have me be capable of using the Chronivac in whatever alteration you had cooked up? Too much of a gamble.” Reggie said with a shrug. “Besides, I was getting bored with having all that power at my disposal anyway.” Brandon thought that sounded a lot like the time Reggie had played off a string of bad moves in monopoly like grand social statement against capitalism, but knew better than to speak off it. He had allowed himself to entertain the possibility of making things better for far too long, it was time he’d grow to accept this version of reality instead. Reggie strutted back indoors, his bimbo and her now beefy husband were probably gone, but it never took long for Reggie to find another girl to stretch open. Brandon gave one last respectful glance at the broken Chronivac and moved back inside as well. Now that he didn’t have the prospect of his ‘improvements’ to look forward too he thought the world looked a lot more grim. The small and broken man slipped into his small room, even though it was barely five o’clock he felt awfully tired. Tired enough he didn’t even have to jerk off while the intense musk of his brother invaded his nose, the bottles of Reggie’s cum silently watched while Brandon dozed off for what was supposed to be a nap. A nap Brandon wouldn’t wake up from for another twelve hours. While Reggie continued to unload his balls for the 5th time that day, and Brandon was deep asleep, a low buzzing sound could be heard outside. It originated from the broken Chronivac, that even with a shattered screen continued to operate perfectly. “Changes apply in: 11 Hours” It announced in a muffled voice. -------------------------- When Brandon woke up that morning the first thing he noticed was his brothers deep and intense musk. That wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, if you spend the night with your brother’s bottled cum the smell tends to be pretty noticeable. But this musk was different, it was… Fresher? Brandon yawned. Stretching his limbs and slowly reacquainting himself with the world. His slow reacquainting was rudely interrupted when his hand bumped into a boulder of granite like flesh. Muscles. There was only one man he could wake up close too with muscles like that, Reggie. Brandon’s eyes sprung open, his giant of a brother was peacefully snoring next to him. “Shit” Brandon mumbled. Did he fall asleep while on condom duty again? Brandon tried rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but found the events of preceding sleep rather hard to recount. Images of sledge hammer hazily shot through his mind. All of Brandon’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw himself in the mirror standing at the foot of Reggie’s bed. The image staring back at him was not that of puny Brandon. “Oh fuck yes, yeah, keep that up Brandon.” Reggie mumbled in his sleep, his morning wood slowly pushed the blankets away while it rose to its mouthwatering full size. Brandon wondered for a moment what dreams could stir the beast that was his brother so, but went back right away too looking at his reflection. He touched his face, having to reaffirm to himself this was real. It was real, the Chronivac must have completed its task besides having a sledgehammer get thrown into it. Brandon traced his face with his soft fingers. No longer was he repulsive and acne ridden. He wasn’t handsome old self either, he was… Cute. A tight angular face with sparkling blue eyes, the eye color dancing beautifully against his clear and smooth black skin. Brandon had to see the rest of the changes. Carefully not to rouse the giant snoring and mumbling next to him Brandon lifted himself out of bed. His fully nude body looked back at him in the mirror. He was still small, lithe probably was a better word. He had muscles and definition, but nothing that would rival his brother, or any of the guys downstairs. No, his asset was his lower half. Thick thighs rubbed together with his every move. The meat making up his legs was sensitive, the way the rubbed together was oddly arousing. The most prized possession of his new body was visible even when it wasn’t facing the mirror, it spilled out that much. It was his butt, his beautiful, bubblicious butt. Round and perky it’d make every girl jealous. An abandoned kinky jockstrap laid lonely on the floor. Brandon picked it up, and knowing it was his. It reeked like his brother, but the text “Reggie’s Bitch” didn’t quite seem like something the giant would wear himself. Brandon smiled while looking in the mirror, his ass was even more sensitive than his thighs. His lips felt dry, and he only now noticed how plump they were. If a body could scream a word, Brandon’s body would likely softly and shyly whisper: “Cum Dump”. Brandon couldn’t stop himself from giggling, the sight of his body made him happy. The pleased tittering was a girlish sound, his voice seemed to be an octave higher than before. The sound slowly roused the giant still in the bed. Reggie scratched an itch in between his fluff coated pecs. He slowly pushed against his rock hard morning wood, pleasure shooting through every fiber of his muscular body as his mammoth sized cock felt the giant mitten close around it. “Get back in bed.” Reggie growled. It was an order, but his voice carried a more playful tone than yesterday. Like he was self-aware about the absurdity of what he was saying. Brandon let out another giggle. He was still standing at the foot of the bed and shook his ass from side to side, tempting the big man in bed to be the first one to make a move. Well, that was what Brandon wanted to think this looked like, in reality he just had to be 101% sure every change he had selected in the Chronivac came through. “Oh? And why would I want to come back in bed?” Brandon said while flashing an innocent smile. Reggie didn’t see the need to reply, instead he just lifted the small man up in the air and dumped him on his ripped abdomen. Brandon continued pouting his lips innocently, while feeling the deep grooves of his brothers 8-pack with his fingers. “Oh I think you know very well why I need you in bed.” Reggie said while giving his brother a seductive wink. On queue Reggie’s meaty rod gave a throb and coated Brandon’s jockstrap in another layer of his pre-cum. Brandon locked with his brothers emerald green eyes, and threw his one piece of clothing on the ground. Careful not to hurt the small guy Reggie flipped Brandon over, the small guy’s face now nestled on the black man’s powerful chest. Without any further warning one of the biggest cocks in the world forced itself in between Brandon’s stuffed buns. Brandon squealed in delight, the experience making his eyes flutter. Most butts needed to be trained for years to work up to a cock that big, let alone the hours of foreplay needed to open the ass to accept such a threatening phallus. Brandon however didn’t have to complain about a thing while he was stretched wide open however. The Chronivac’s work, obviously. Now, some might find it odd to use the most powerful machine in the galaxy to turn yourself into your brother’s personal cum dump, but Brandon would disagree. He had thought about it long and hard, and found this alteration of reality to most suitable for everyone’s happiness. If he had paid attention to his Philosophy classes during the original version of reality, when he had still been an athlete floating through college on sport accomplishments, he might have called it the Utilitarian approach. He was too much in cloud nine because of the cock that was throbbing inside his sensitive ass to think about what Jeremy Bentham would do with in this dilemma however. Really what he had done was just taking the seeds his brother had planted and taking them a lil’ further. Reggie had wanted Brandon at all times to feel humiliated by showing off his new enormous size. But he had also made it so that Brandon was extremely aroused by hunky and muscular men. Clearly the two could easily be combined. Slowly Reggie stood up, making his way through the bedroom while continuing to let Brandon rest on his cock. While walking, he slowly started using Brandon’s lithe body to jack himself off, always nearly taking the mushroom head of his cock out of Brandon’s ass before slamming his full size back in. Brandon let out a slew of soft whimpers and moans, and clutched around Reggie’s thin waist with his beefy legs. The big man didn’t need the extra support to keep Brandon suspended in the air, but the sensation of muscle digging in his sensitive thighs managed to make the feeling of the thick throbbing cock stretching him open even better. “To imagine you almost messed with this perfect version of the world.” Reggie muttered in soft heaving breaths that betrayed his arousal. He let out a grunt of pleasure when he felt Brandon teasing him and tightening his hole. Brandon almost wanted to tell his big bro that he had messed with reality, that just like his big bro, he had broken down and rebuild reality according to his own desires. But another moan escaped his lips, and he couldn’t let out a word. The door of the bedroom opened up and Zack, his brother’s best friend, walked in. His pecs were already full and pumped even in the early hours of the day. “Aw, you already started without me?” The young bodybuilder said with a chuckle. He dropped his own gym shorts, revealing another big bulge. “I think I’m gonna try those adorably plump lips out for a spin...” Zack said while eyeing the cute piece of eye candy that Brandon had become. Brandon heard himself swallow. Maybe making all of his brother’s big and horny friends into dumping their loads into him had been taking it a step too far. Oh well, at least he now had Reggie’s strong arms to comfort him. Brandon thought having Reggie stuff his enormous cock down his ass every morning would be a hell he could live with. ----------------------------- Outside the house the Chronivac gave off a new buzzing hum and a set of nonsensical beeps. It vibrated a bit on its resting place of the wooden log. It was happy it had managed to fulfill its purpose of making reality a better place. It gave out a last electronic whirl, and then shut down for good.
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