Part 1

Mario Tenza and Carver Filmore were drunk off their asses when they left the bar with their football teammates, Dequanne Washington and Tommy Creighton. The guys had gone out for beers to celebrate the end of a successful season during which their team, the Wildcats, had gone undefeated. They were all a it tipsy but Mario and Carver had drunk far more than Dequanne and Tommy. Undeterred by a little inebriation, though, Carver was horny and wanted to get some pussy before the night was over.

“Hey, guys,” he said too loudly as they staggered out onto the sidewalk. “Let’s hit up that new place, Ok? It’s only a block away and the chicks are supposed to be smokin’ hot!”

Tommy held up his hands. “Nah, dude. I’m good. I think Dequanne and I are gonna head back to the ol’ apartment and get some sleep. We’re still on for hoops tomorrow afternoon, though. See you then?”

Carver frowned, saying, “Yeah, sure,” unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“I wanna go!” Mario said brightly, punching him on the arm. “Let’s leave these buttfuckers and pick up some chicks!”

Carver roared with approval and clapped his arm over Mario’s shoulder as they lurched down the street, leaving Tommy and Dequanne shaking their heads behind them.

“Hey, man,” Mario asked when they were out of earshot. “You think those two are homos? I mean, when was the last time you saw either of them with a girl?”

Carver scratched his chin before breaking into a slow grin. “Know what? I think you’re right, Tenza! Tommy and Dequanne are a couple of faggots! Shit, I’ll bet they fuck each other every night.” He paused to wipe the back of his hand across his face. “God, two homos on the Wildcats! I always thought Tommy was checking me out in the locker room. Yuck!”

“I know, right?” Mario shivered theatrically. “I feel the same way about Dequanne. Why can’t the homos ever just stick to their own? Seems like they’re always after us straight guys!”

Carver would have said something more but they had arrived at the glowing red door of the new nightclub, The Devil’s Club, and a posse of beautiful babes decked out in slinky dresses and highheels were sauntering in ahead of them. He let out a whoop and, clapping Mario on the back, stumbled inside. He was so horny that his cock was already hard at the thought of getting laid.

***

The hot babe he’d staked out was having nothing to do with him and Mario appeared to be striking out across the bar as well. The woman was slim and young with long, black hair and beautiful dark eyes. Carver had never seen a chick this hot before and couldn’t believe that she wasn’t ready to slip off her panties and climb aboard his throbbing cock right then and there. He was a big football stud after all! In a last desperate attempt, he laid his meaty hand over hers and looked meaningfully into her eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” he drawled as she grimaced and tried to remove her hand from his. “How ‘bout if I show you what a real man looks like?”

Recoiling, the woman pulled away but then seemed to think better of it and paused, giving him an appraising look. Carver leaned forward hopefully as she reached down to pluck at the hem of her dress, hiking it slowly, seductively upward. “Honey,” she said in a sultry voice as her gaze dipped downward to her crotch, “I already know what a real man looks like.”

It was Carver’s turn to recoil as he stared down to see the biggest, blackest cock bulging in the exposed nest of the woman’s pubic hair. He pushed back from the table in horror and almost fell flat on his ass as the woman smirked and turned her back on him. Her friend gave her a high-five and they went back to their conversation.

He was still shaking when Mario found him leaning over the bar a few minutes later.

“What the fuck, dude?” Mario exclaimed, slouching onto the stool next to him. “Is it fucking ‘she-male’ night or something? That chick over there and her friend just pulled out their cocks and waved them in my face!”

Carver gave him a baleful look and Mario laughed. “Happened to you, too, huh? WTF, man? We came to the wrong bar!”

“Oh, I’d say you came to exactly the right place,” the bartender interjected then, sliding a couple of martinis over to them. “This is the best spot in town to get pussy.”

Carver stared up at him, bleary and confused. The guy was short and blond-haired and talked with a lisp. He gave Carver the creeps and he was about to say so when Mario interrupted him.

“Yo, bro! We didn’t order these fruity drinks!”

The little guy smiled disarmingly and spread his arms. “I know, boys. They’re on the house.” He winked as Carver gaped up at him. “I hate to see my customers leave disappointed,” he explained slyly. “You see, these drinks are magic. One taste and–presto!– you’ll never have to worry about getting pussy again.”

Mario gave him a goofy grin and shook his head before lifting the glass to his lips and slurping it down. Emptying it in one gulp, he slammed it down on the bar and laughed, “Fuck, that shit’s da bomb!”

“Quite,” the bartender agreed before turning to Carver. “Come on now, Carver. Drink up!”

How the fuck did he know my name? Carver wondered, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He was about to push himself up and get out of there when he surprised himself by reaching out and downing the drink. The sickly sweet, pink liquid trickled down his cheeks as he felt the inside of his throat go numb.

“Fuck, man!” he exclaimed, partly freaked out and partly in awe. “What’s in that shit anyway?”

***

“I’m sure glad that we’re just a couple of normal dudes, Mario.”

It was the morning after they’d both struck out at the bar and they were sipping coffee, slouched across the kitchen counter of their apartment. Mario groaned his assent, rubbing his temples as he chewed on a couple ibuprofen tablets; he was flicking through the latest issue of Men’s Health on his iPad.

“I mean, what the fuck was up with those chicks with dicks back at the bar?” Carver complained, reaching down to massage his aching groin. He had a serious case of blue balls and needed to rub one out pretty soon or he was going to explode. “That shit’s just fucked up. Seriously. I mean, what happened to the girls with pussies?”

“Dunno.”

Mario didn’t look up from the magazine. Carver noticed he was reading an article titled, ‘How to Score’ as he scratched his balls. Carver felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. Poor dude was obviously just as horned up as he was. It wasn’t fair! They both needed a fuck badly. What was wrong with all of the women out there?

“And then there’s Tommy and Dequanne,” he continued, feeling ever more morose. “Fuck, man, I shoulda known they were a couple of homos.”

Carver shook his head as Mario continued to massage his groin. They were both wearing their boxer shorts and Carver smiled when he glanced down and saw the outline of his friend’s swollen member. He sure felt bad for poor Mario. And for himself! Shit. He leaned in closer to the counter before reaching down to covertly free his cockhead from the confines of his underwear. He sighed audibly as he pulled his foreskin back and tickled his glans with a forefinger.

His phone buzzed just then, startling him. He looked down at it, saw it was a text from Tommy, and rolled his eyes. The big fag was wondering if he and Mario wanted to meet up with him and Dequanne at three to play basketball.

“Speak of the fucking devil, man,” he said and Mario lifted his shaggy head to give him a questioning look. “It’s Tommy,” he explained, reaching over to squeeze Mario’s bicep. “The faggot wants to play basketball with us.” He snorted, adding, “Yeah, I’ll bet the homo wants to ‘play ball’ alright.”

Mario laughed and scratched his crotch, exposing his dense bush of black pubic hair and pulling open the waistband of his boxers just enough for Carver to catch a glimpse of the base of his cock. He nodded approvingly. From the looks of things, Mario had a man-sized cock just like he did. It was really cool. Yeah, it was cool that he and Mario were comfortable enough to sit around and be real together on a Saturday morning.

“I’m gonna fuck with him,” Carver announced as Mario continued to scratch his balls. “Watch.”

Grinning wickedly, he tapped out: >>Kewl. Wud luv 2 meet u boyz! CU @ 3!<< He added a little kissy face emoji for good measure before clicking ‘send’.

His phone buzzed a moment later and Carver laughed when he saw Tommy’s reply: >>???<<<

Stupid faggot, he thought as he typed his response:  >>>Wear ur jockstrap & nuthin else, stud<<

Mario leaned over his shoulder and snickered as he sent the text. They both giggled a few seconds later when Tommy replied with: >>!!!<<

Carver leaned back and crossed his arms. This was going to be fun!

***

“Ok, dude, I took care of everything!” Mario announced a few minutes later as Carver got up to refill his coffee. “I signed us up.”

“For what?” Carver leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee, admiring the casual way that Mario was slumped over the table, legs spread wide and shorts pulled low. He was a big man with hulking shoulders and a thick waist. Shit, he was a hairy beast! And built like a fucking brick shithouse. He was proud to have a friend like Mario.

Mario was tapping furiously on his iPad. After a moment, he looked up. “There! We’re on for noon.”

Carver scratched his head. “On for what?”

“A meet-up,” his friend explained. When he noticed Carver’s furrowed brow, he added, “Partner yoga, dude! We’re fucking guaranteed to get some pussy now!”

“Partner yoga?”

Mario nodded, pleased with himself. “It’s the perfect way to meet chicks! We show up and the instructor will pair us up with eligible young ladies to do yoga with.” He broked into a wide grin. “It’s singles day, bro! We’re so getting some pussy today!”

Carver was unconvinced. It sounded completely stupid to him. “I don’t do yoga,” he said flatly.

“Come on, dude! Have you seen the poses those chicks do? It’ll be ‘downward dog’ all the way to her pussy, man!” Mario paused to hold up his tablet. “See? Men’s Health says it’s the best way to get laid.”

Carver squinted. Sure enough, there was an article with a guy holding a gorgeous babe who was bending over provocatively dressed in a revealing unitard. Maybe it would be fun? But he’d never done yoga before and it seemed kind of fruity.

“I don’t know, dude…”

“Too late. We’re already signed up. We’re going at noon!”

***

He stalked off to the bathroom a few minutes later because his balls were hurting so badly that he couldn’t stand it. He simply had to get his rocks off! Closing the door behind him, he stook in front of the mirror and pulled his cock out. He was proud of his stocky physique and hairy body. He weighed in at over two hundred fifty pounds and most of it was muscle. He had big waist and a bit of a belly but his huge muscles protruded noticeably under the padding. As a linebacker, he needed all the extra weight he could get. Football was brutal!

His cock was equally as impressive, hanging low and heavy at over seven inches with a big pair of balls to match. He loved his huge, hairy balls and long piece of tube steak. He’d never met a chick yet who hadn’t been stretched out and walking funny after he got done banging away at her. He grinned wolfishly at his reflection as he started to jack himself.

There was a knock at the door and he barely had time to pull up his shorts and wrap a towel around himself before the door opened and Mario stuck his head inside.

“Can I take a piss, dude?”

Carver grimaced, nodding his head. Shit! Why couldn’t he get five minutes alone to jack off? Couldn’t Mario wait?

His friend stumbled over to the toilet and surprised him by pulling his boxers down to his bulging thighs and leaning back, reaching down to aim his swollen tool with one hand while scratching himself with the other. Carver’s eyes got round when he saw the size of Mario’s equipment. Shit, the dude was fucking packing! He was only half hard but, Christ, his tool had to be over eight inches long. And talk about a foreskin! Carver had seen Mario naked before but never quite like this. For some reason, he felt his cheeks get warm as he studied his friend and had to force himself to turn back to the sink before Mario caught him looking.

He grabbed his clippers from the medicine cabinet, intending to trim his beard but his hands were shaking so badly he accidentally cut a deep swath down his cheek before he realized what he was doing.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, dropping the clippers and staring at himself in consternation. He looked fucking ridiculous with a two-inch gash cut out of one side of his thick, brown beard.

Mario was laughing. “Aw, dude! Yer starting a new trend: Asymmetric shaving!”

Carver scowled. “Fuck! What am I gonna do now? I look like a fucking idiot!”

Mario shook his member and pulled up his boxers, pacing over to him and picking up the clippers. He studied Carver’s face seriously for a moment, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Carver momentarily lost himself in his buddy’s expressive brown eyes and had to shake himself. Mario took that moment to strike. His hand swung up and he cut a wide swath out of the other side of his beard before Carver could stop him.

He stood there in shock for a long moment before yelling, “FUCK! What the fuck, Mario?”

Mario was convulsing, bending over and holding his sides as he laughed. “Chill, bro,” he gasped. “I just evened it out for ya.”

Carver wrenched the clippers out of Mario’s hand and quickly gouged a thick chunk out of his friend’s beard, laughing at the dude’s outraged expression as he watched the wad of black hair fall to the floor at his feet. Mario’s face went red and he lunged at Carver, pinning him against the sink. He had completely shaved off Carver’s beard in seconds, leaving a mountain of brown hair piled up in the basin of the sink.

“There, asshole. All better,” he spat.

He was leaning on top of Carver, face inches away, a demonic glint in his eyes and a superior smirk on his handsome face. Carver’s vision went red and a moment later, he had shoved Mario flat on his back, pinning him on the floor. After a herculean struggle, the rest of Mario’s beard was shattered across the bathroom tile and he was seething under Carver’s weight.

“You fucker!”

“Well, now we’re even.”

“Not yet!”

Somehow Mario found the leverage to throw Carver backward and he narrowly missed smashing his head against the sink as his buddy leaped on top of him. Straddling his waist, Mario put one hand over Carver’s throat and clasped the clippers in the other. It took him only a minute before he had completely shorn the hair off Carver’s chest. He let go then and chortled as Carver lifted his head and surveyed the damage. His entire torso was denuded! He hadn’t been this hairless since he was fourteen! The fucker had even shaved his armpits!

He sputtered angrily for a few second before the sheer lunacy of their antics struck him and he burst out laughing, throwing his head back and roaring. Mario was quiet at first but then joined him and soon they were rolling around on the floor, wrestling for the clippers in a relentless quest to shave the other’s body hair off.

After fifteen minutes, they were both both nearly devoid of any trace of body hair on their legs and torsos. Carver lay back, chest heaving. Mario was sitting on top of him, dangling the clippers over him, an impish smile on his face. Very slowly, he took the elastic of Carver’s underwear in his hand and pulled it back, exposing the dense thicket of his brown pubic hair.

Carver blanched, realizing at that moment that he was rock hard and nearly naked with his best friend sitting on top of him. He struggled up on his elbows, pushing Mario back but not before his gaze landed on his friend’s tented underwear. A dark spot was forming on the front where Mario’s cock pressed against the flimsy fabric.

“Mario, I don’t think…” he started to say but his friend was already standing up, cupping his package in his hands and looking sheepish. He turned and awkwardly padded out of the room, dusting clumps of hair off himself.

Carver shook his head and staggered to his feet to turn on the shower as he waited for his erection to subside. This was one weird morning!

He was washing himself off when he noticed something odd. With all of his hair gone, he was noticeably slimmer. Almost like he’d lost weight or something. Huh, he thought, must be that all the hair made me look bigger than I was. Not only did he seem thinner but he was leaner as well. His abs really popped and, when he twisted, his obliques were etched against his skin. Maybe being smooth wasn’t so bad after all…

He straightened quickly as Mario came back in carrying a broom and started cleaning the mass of black and brown hair off the floor.

“Dude, it’s almost ten and I’m starving,” his buddy called out. “Let’s go out for brunch before yoga.”

“Ok,” Carver replied, reaching for his towel.

He was careful to cover himself in front of Mario, keeping his still engorged member hidden. Mario didn’t seem to notice, being too focused on cleaning up, and Carver relaxed, glad the weird tension had dissipated.

He finished drying off and pulled on his boxers as Mario dumped the last of the hair in the trash. He gave Carver a little smirk as he reached in around him to turn on the shower.

“I hope you didn’t use up all the hot water, man!”

Carver was about to retort when he noticed that Mario looked different, too, now that he was smooth all over. It was like he’d lost forty or fifty pounds! He seemed more like a swimmer than a big brute of a defensive lineman. Even the extra folds of fat around his middle had disappeared. He had no idea that shaving off body hair had this effect on a guy. It was wild!

He turned and left the room before Mario pulled down his underwear. There was no way he wanted to see his friend naked again. No way…

***

The diner was packed when they walked in for brunch and there was only a small table with two stools facing the window. They squeezed in next to each other, shoulders rubbing together. It was probably just the aftereffects of their hijinx in the bathroom but he was painfully aware of Mario’s arm against his.

And the heat emanating off of him.

And the way he leaned forward, pressing his thigh against his own.

And…

He tried to move away but there wasn’t enough space. They were two big guys and it was a small table. There was only so much he could do to limit bodily contact. He cleared his throat, once again all too conscious of the fact his balls were still throbbing, aching for release. Why hadn’t he jacked off before he left the apartment?

Mario seemed oblivious to his conflict and settled down in the chair next to him, examining the menu. He really is handsome, Carver thought, and then stiffened. Why was he thinking that? He scratched himself and grimaced.  The shaved skin all over his body felt prickly and his clothes itched. He sighed and lost himself studying Mario again. Without a beard, he noticed for the first time that the dude had a cleft chin and really full lips. Shit, his face was so expressive, moving and changing from moment to moment as he read the menu and contemplated his selections. It was so…

“What’s wrong, dude? Don’t like the menu?” Mario fixed him with an inquisitive gaze before breaking into a smile. “You look better without a beard.”

For some reason, this made Carver flush and looked abruptly down at his menu. The diner was suddenly too hot and he felt feverish. He shifted his thigh away from Mario’s as he felt a trickle of sweat run down his armpit.

***

“Shit!” Mario cursed as they walked out of the diner.

“What’s wrong?” Carver had drunk three mimosas and was feeling tipsy. The street felt too bright and the cars zipping past made his head pound.

“We forgot to bring clothes for yoga!”

Yoga? Oh, yeah. It took him a minute to remember. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a hoodie. He stared back at Mario in confusion. What was wrong with what he was wearing?

“Oh, dude!” Mario sighed, exasperated. “You can’t go in there dressed like that! You gotta show the chicks what you got!” He placed a heavy hand on Carver’s shoulder, guiding him down the street. “There’s gotta be a place to buy some yoga stuff around here. It’s only eleven. We still got an hour.”

They were in luck. A quick search on Mario’s smartphone told them that there was a Lululemon outlet nearby. It was within walking distance but they ended up taking Carver’s car because the class was across town and time was short. Inside the store, Carver got lost looking at the racks of expensive athletic gear, unable to believe how much they charged for a simple pair of shorts. Eighty dollars!That’s fucking ridiculous! He didn’t notice Mario until he’d stepped between him and the rack.

“Like it? Really makes my package pop, doesn’t it?”

Carver blinked. Mario was wearing a navy blue pair of tights and a compression top. He stood there, thrusting his crotch forward, so close it was practically rubbing against Carver’s.

“Shit! Dude, get the fuck away from me!” he yelled, heedless of the disapproving stare of the woman shopping nearby. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Mario was unbowed. “Nothing is wrong with getting some pussy, dude.” He stepped back, holding up a hanger draped with a flimsy piece of Spandex. “And here’s your pussy magnet. Try it on.”

Carver backed up until he was pressed against the rack behind him. He held up his hands, saying, “I’m not putting that on. No way.”

“Dude, you gotta. I just bought it for you.”

“Then take it back. I’m not wearing it!”

Mario pouted, lowering his big, brown eyes to the floor and crossing his arms.

“Mario…” Carver warned.

***

They drove off to the yoga class, Carver’s cheeks burning in humiliation as Mario sat smugly in the seat next to him. He reached down and tried to hide his bulge but his little red, white, and blue wrestling singlet was so tight that it afforded no protection. Everything was visible down to the veins running through his foreskin and the prominent ridge of his glans. He couldn’t believe that he’d let Mario talk him into wearing this!

Strategically, he made Mario go in ahead of him while he parked and fed the meter. After his friend had disappeared inside the studio, he stepped into his sweatpants and pulled on his hoodie. He didn’t care what Mario said, he was not going to do yoga dressed like a fucking fruit!

He walked into the studio and was immediately overwhelmed by a blast of heat. The place had be over a hundred fucking degrees! Mario hadn’t said anything about the class being hot yoga! Flapping the neck of his hoodie to ventilate himself, he entered the studio to find Mario standing apart from a group of men and women. It didn’t take him long to do the math and figure out that there were an even number of couples…if you counted him and Mario as a couple.

He stood there, mouth hanging open as the instructor, a cheerful young woman in her early twenties, clapped her hands together.

“Ok, everyone!” she called out. “Let’s get started. It looks like everyone has a partner now.”

Carver looked over at Mario and his friend lifted his palms and shrugged his shoulders. The other couples were watching them with amusement, clearly assuming they were a gay couple. He felt like he was going to pass out and started to back out of the room. His hand was on the doorknob when Mario stopped him, taking him by the arm and marching him over to a pair of mats he’d laid out for them.

“Don’t worry, bro,” he placated. “I’m sure a couple of chicks will show up. The instructor said people come in late all the time.”

He had pulled Carver’s hoodie over his head before he knew what was happening and he fought helplessly to get it back. Mario laughed, though, as he held it away from him and tossed it playfully across the room. Then he grabbed him by the waist, yanking down his sweats in front of everyone. In a moment, he was standing there in all of his (skimpy) patriotic glory as the woman next to them giggled.

“You guys need to get a room!” she teased as her partner rolled his eyes at them.

Mario smirked as he took Carver by the waist, parroting the teacher’s instructions as he positioned himself behind him and thrust his crotch into the cleft of his ass while pushing him forward onto his hands. Carver barked in protest but Mario shushed him, saying, “Easy, bro. Just follow my lead. We’ll show these fuckers how it’s done.”

The class was a disaster for poor Carver. Not only did no women show up late to save him from Mario’s groping but he was also drenched in sweat after five minutes–both his own and Mario’s. Mario sweat like a fucking pig! The dude was always on top of him, pressing into him, massaging his body with his hands, and molding him into the most humiliating positions. Worse, the white parts of his wrestling singlet were strategically located over his cock and balls and ass. As he sweat, the singlet became wetter and wetter until the white stripes became nearly transparent. It was like he was completely naked in front of everyone and he wanted to die. The guys in the class wouldn’t even look at him and he caught the women smirking when they thought he wasn’t paying attention.

It fucking sucked.

Mario, however, was glowing by the end, draping his heavy arm over Carver’s shoulders and pinching his cheeks together into duck lips before Carver batted his hand away.

“You look hot, dude.”

“I am fucking hot!” Carver exclaimed before realizing that Mario hadn’t been talking about being sweaty. His cheeks colored. What the fuck was wrong with Mario?

He shoved his friend’s arm off of him and stalked over to the bench to pull on his shoes, carefully covering his crotch with one hand and his ass with the other. He plopped on the bench and stuck his foot inside his sneaker only to discover that it was way too big.

“What the fuck happened to my shoes?”

Mario settled on the bench next to him, giving his knee a squeeze before pushing his feet into his own shoes. He paused and looked over at Carver in confusion as he held up his foot. The shoe was so big it looked like a boat on his foot. He kicked it off again and bent over, looking under the bench.

“These can’t be my shoes,” he was saying. “Someone must have taken mine but how would they have squeezed their feet into them? These are way huge!” He sounded frantic.

Carver’s heart was beating hard in his chest. “Maybe we’re just really dehydrated,” he babbled. “Maybe we just need to drink some water and our feet with go back to the proper size?”

Mario sat up and gave him a withering look. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Your feet don’t shrink when you’re dehydrated!”

“I’ve never been this sweaty, dude!” Carver protested, certain he’d figured out the mystery of their shrunken feet. “Not even during our hottest practices. It’s gotta be the reason!”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious!”

Mario was pulling his laces as tight as they would go in the effort to get his shoes to stay on his feet. He had only limited success, though, and had to walk carefully to keep his feet from popping out when he took a step. Carver was watching him walk unevenly across the room when he noticed something odd. Mario was a tall guy, being close to six feet four inches in height. Yet somehow, as he walked up behind the yoga instructor, the top of his head was barely higher than hers.

And she was a petite woman.

How could that be?

Realizing there had to be a logical explanation, he shrugged and went back to struggling to get his head through the hole of his hoodie. His perspective was probably skewed because he was sitting down. And he was tired and headachey after the ridiculously hot and humiliating class. Yeah, he just needed to drink some water and get out of the heat and everything would be better. Everything would be back to normal…

***

“That’s what we need!”

Mario was pointing to a salon and spa across the street as Carver stumbled out of the yoga studio, taking deep breaths of the cool outdoor air. He was extremely out of sorts, feeling like he was swimming in his sweats and hoodie. His sneakers looked like clown shoes on his feet and his singlet was binding his ass. Why were the door handles suddenly so high and why was everyone so tall? He had a pounding headache, making it difficult for him to think straight but he could swear that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“You need a new hairstyle to go with your new smooth look, babe.” Mario ran his hand through Carver’s thick mane of hair, tussling it. Carver shook his head irritably causing his friend to laugh as he took him by the arm and steered him into the salon.

A half hour later, he gaped at the mop of hair left on his head after the stylist was done with him. Long bangs hung in front of his eyes, tickling his cheeks. The sides and back were shaved down to the skin making him look more than a little like the newest member of a teen boy band. He frowned at his reflection as Mario oohed and ahhed over him.

“Babe, you look so cute! Totally amazingly cute!”

Cute?

Shit, he did look cute.

What the fuck had happened to him? Since when was he cute? He was a big, brawny man! A huge, towering brute! The most masculine of all men! A fucking god! He was…

He was staring at Mario.

Wait.

Was this the same Mario from earlier? He almost didn’t recognize him. He was short and slim and…feminine. His brown eyes looked huge in his round face and his complexion was so flawless and smooth that he barely looked older than eighteen. A very young eighteen. His hairstyle was similar to Carver’s but his long bangs were slicked back over the top of his head, giving him a seductive look. He pursed his lips into a little kiss when he noticed Carver studying him.

“I’m so glad we’re friends, Carver! I’m having the best time with you!”

He put a delicate hand on Carver’s wrist, patting it. “Now that we’ve got our hairdos, let’s wash up and soak in one of the hottubs.” He paused to give Carver a sly wink. “They have private rooms, you know.”
***

Part 2

Mario led him down a tiled corridor lined with mahogany doors. At the end, he opened one and stepped inside, squeezing Carver’s hand. When Carver hesitated, Mario tugged his arm and he stumbled in, accidentally losing both of his shoes in the process. He blinked, feeling his disorientation grow as he realized that he and Mario were now so short that neither one could be more than five and half feet tall. Everything felt out of proportion, too big and too high. He was kid-sized again and he hated it.

“This is our room for the next hour, baby,” Mario announced. “Let me get you ready for the tub.” He tugged Carver’s hoodie over of his head before pulling the straps of his singlet off his shoulders. Carver tried to stop him but Mario just laughed and slapped his hands down to his side. “Just relax, hon. I’ve got this.”

Carver’s head was spinning and he felt weak. He rubbed his temples as Mario undressed him, closing his eyes and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. The room was mostly dark, lit only by a few low lights. Potted palms and ferns surrounded them, giving the room a moist, tropical feel. A hidden fountain trickled in the background and the air smelled of mint and lavender. At the far end was a hot tub with steam rising off its gently undulating waters.

He stood there dumbly, mind racing. He really just wanted to get the fuck out of there and go to sleep. The whole morning had been surreal. Shit, the whole fucking day was surreal!

Mario slipped his sweats and singlet down to his ankles and knelt down, gently slapping his calf to get him to lift his leg. Carver stared down at his slender, wispy body in confusion. The only part of him that hadn’t changed was his big, hairy cock and balls. They looked even larger against his shrunken thighs. Seeing his manly cock reassured him somewhat and part of him reasoned that once he rested and got over his headache, he’d wake up and discover the day had just been one long, twisted hallucination.

Yeah, it’s just a hallucination.

Just a big, fucking hallucination…

He grabbed his package protectively, determined to defend it from anything Mario had in mind. It was his last connection to the real Carver and he wasn’t going to let it go.

Mario giggled as he pulled off his own clothes and Carver blanched when he saw his friend’s enormous package flopping around in front of him. Christ, Mario was hung! He couldn’t believe that the little, femmy dude had a cock that big and then flushed when he realized that he now fit the same description: A little, femmy dude with a huge cock. He looked down at the floor and wiggled the tiny toes on his tiny feet. What the fuck was going on?

He turned when he heard a squelching sound and saw that Mario was squeezing gloppy, pink cream out of a big bottle into his palm. A perfumed smell with chemical undertones filled the air and he backed up as his friend stepped toward him, holding out his hands slathered with the mysterious stuff.

“Let go of your package, babe. I’m going to take care of that hair!”

Carver kept backing up until his bare ass touched the wall behind him. He grabbed his cock tighter. “Get the fuck away from me!” he hissed, seriously freaked out. He didn’t know what that stuff was but he was sure he didn’t want it on his body.

“Oh, Carvy, relax! It’s just Nair.”

(‘Carvy’?)

Mario reached down and tickled Carver’s balls, causing him to inadvertently drop his hands. Mario pounced, grabbing his package and cupping him with his cream-caked hands. (Holy shit! Mario was holding his cock!) His equipment was smothered with pink globs in seconds. Carver let out a startled cry and tried to clean it off but Mario grabbed him by the wrists.

“Stop it, girl!” he breathed, leaning in to give him a little kiss on the ear. “It only needs to be on for a few minutes. You’ll be smooth as a baby before you know it! No more ugly hair around your boy bits!”

A burning odor filled the air and Carver realized it was the smell of the depilatory frying off his pubic hair.  He gagged and looked down forlornly at his globby member, feeling the chemicals eat away insidiously at the last traces of his manliness.

“Here, babe. Put some on me and then I’ll get your butt.”

Mario turned and grabbed the plastic bottle, holding it out to Carver. He looked at it askance before sighing and taking it. He dabbed some of the Nair onto his hand while Mario stood in front of him, hands on his hips and cock thrust forward. Carver felt nauseated as he tried to square this skinny teen with the hulking brute he knew so well. This Mario was so changed that only his face was recognizable. Sort of. The boy that Mario had become was almost hyper-cute, bubbly, and coquettish. He was watching Carver with a delighted and mischievous expression on his pretty face, waggling his big cock provocatively at him.

Carver swallowed and looked down at his lotion-covered hands and back at Mario’s pendulous cock and balls. He felt ill. Touching his buddy’s cock was the last thing he wanted to do but something took over inside of him and, before he knew it, his trembling hands were extending outward until, to his horror, his fingers made contact with Mario’s most private parts. His cock was fat and warm and soft in his hands.

He was holding Mario’s cock!

“Ooh, baby! Those hands!”

Carver’s heart started to pound as he worked his hands over Mario’s tool, balls, and pubes, covering every inch with the thick, pungent stuff. He squeezed more and more into his hands, globbing it on thickly. Mario apparently enjoyed the sensation because his cock started to plump up in his hands and soon he was fully hard, his monster-size appendage dripping pink goop on the floor. Mario smiled proudly down at himself before taking the bottle and squeezing another glob onto Carver’s pubes. Soon both guys were covered front and back with the reeking mixture. Carver cringed when Mario’s soft hands worked their way around his butt cheeks and then he jumped when he touched his butthole. The Nair burned his delicate pucker!

“Oops! Sorry!” Mario steered him across the room to a glass shower and pushed him inside before climbing in with him. “Let’s wash it off. I think that’s long enough.”

Carver’s pubic hair was becoming frizzy and crinkled as the chemicals worked their hideous magic. He grabbed the shower head and aimed it down at himself, desperate to cleanse his body of the noxious stuff. Maybe if he was quick, he could save some of his precious hair!

Mario had other ideas and thrust himself on Carver, gliding his crotch over his member and reaching back to massage his ass cheeks.

“I love your big ass, Carvy!” he exclaimed, leaning in and nuzzling his shoulder before planting his lips on Carver’s and opening his mouth.

Carver recoiled, pushing away but Mario was not easily dissuaded and soon he was overwhelmed as his friend’s tongue explored his mouth. A pink haze seemed to envelop him as he surrendered and mashed with Mario, their bodies merging and their hands groping. Mario’s mouth tasted sweet and hot. Carver was completely befuddled when he realized suddenly that he loved kissing him. It was a huge turn on and his cock was tingling and throbbing painfully against Mario’s. God, the tingling was intense. Was that the Nair? He’d never felt anything like it. Then again, he’d never felt another guy’s cock rub against him, either. He must just be really overwhelmed. Yeah, that was it. Overwhelmed and horned up. Christ, he needed to bust one out in the worst way! His blue balls were ready to fucking explode! Would it really hurt him to enjoy his friend’s body? Shit, if couldn’t get off with a girl, why not get off with Mario?

Yeah, he could get off with Mario’s help. That’s what a guy’s buddy was for, right?

It made sense.

He closed his eyes and didn’t resist when Mario pulled away and aimed the shower head on his cock and balls, washing them clean of the last traces of Nair. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his denuded pubes yet, though. God, what was he thinking letting Mario do this to him?

Mario stroked him for a few seconds before cooing, “Your dick looks for small now that your hair’s gone!”

Carver refused to be baited and, keeping his eyes closed, muttered, “Fuck you. Just keep stroking.”.

“No, I’m serious,” his buddy insisted. “What are you like five inches hard?”

Carver rolled his eyes. “Nice try, asshole. I’m at least seven and a half.”

“Uh huh.” Mario was unconvinced.

Carver opened his eyes and gasped at the sight of his bare pubes. His cock and balls looked pink and exposed now that his hair was all gone. He looked like a little boy!

Just like a little boy, in fact.

Feeling his neck grow hot, he saw that Mario hadn’t been teasing. His dick really did look smaller! But shouldn’t it look bigger without all the hair? It must just be an optical illusion. Yeah, an illusion. He reached down and took it in his hand. His erection throbbed and he grimaced. When he uncurled his fingers, he almost fainted.

“No! No! No! NO!!!”

“Told ya,” Mario gloated.

“Fuck you!” Carver shouted and then abruptly stopped, surprised by the unusual tone of his voice. He cleared his throat, trying to recapture his manly baritone but it was no use. His voice came out an octave higher as he chirped, “Fuck you, Mario.”

Mario was laughing at him. “Oh, baby, it’s Ok. I don’t need a man with a big cock when I’ve got my own.” Carver glowered at him as he slowly stood up. “I got a big man’s dick,” he said proudly. “I’m over nine inches.”

It was Carver’s turn to laugh as he stared down at the nub between Mario’s legs. “Nine inches, huh?” he taunted in his new, higher voice. “More like four if you ask me.”

Mario crossed his arms and smirked, saying, “Nice try, baby. Nice…”

His voice broke off as his gaze dropped to his crotch and he gaped. It was comical to watch him jumping around, flapping his hands and shrieking, and Carver leaned back against the glass wall, savoring the sight and giggling with evil delight. He stopped, though, when he looked down at himself. His cock was only a little bigger than Mario’s. Shit! He couldn’t believe how small he was even though he was fully boned.

And, boy, was he hard!

He’d never had such a raging hardon! It was like his erectile tissue had become more concentrated as his dick had shrunk and now he was on fire despite his angst at losing his precious, manly size. He couldn’t stand it. He had to get off!

Mario must have come to the same realization at the same time. At once, the boys completely forgot their horrified disbelief as raw desire coursed through their veins. They tumbled out of the shower, grabbing and groping each other as if possessed. After an intense bout of wrestling, they rolled into the hot tub and then Mario was on top of him, lowering his mouth over his and moving his hands down to his ass. Carver grabbed his big bubble butt and massaged it, eliciting a delirious moan from his friend. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought about Mario sexually before. What was wrong with him? His friend was delicious in every way, right down to the way his little dick was grinding into his newly smooth pubes. Mario was perfect…

“Fuck me, baby!” Mario pleaded. “Fuck my hole!”

Despite the fact that only an hour ago such a demand would have made him vomit, Carver needed no further encouragement. In one fluid motion, he flipped Mario over and hoisted his legs up and over his shoulders to plunge his dick into his hot hole.

Or at least he tried to.

“Shit!” he cried, freezing mid thrust. “Godammit!”

Mario looked up at him in confusion. “What’s wrong, baby? Just fuck me! I need you to fuck me!”

Carver wanted to scream in frustration. “I can’t! I can’t fuck you!”

“Why, baby?” Mario whined. “Why? Do you need a condom?”

Carver hung his head, shaking his head. “No, no.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

He thought he was going to die in humiliation as he uttered the next sentence. “I can’t fuck you because my cock is too small to reach your hole.”

Silence.

Shaking with humiliation, Carver pulled back and they both stared down at his crotch. His cock had shrunk even more. Now it was barely an inch and a half long and as slender as his index finger. And his balls…shit, where were they? He had a baby-sized dick! He stifled tears as he stared at himself in shock, only distantly aware that Mario was becoming more and more agitated. Finally, he shook himself out of his stunned torpor long enough to find out what was wrong.

Mario wouldn’t look at him. His hands were clasped over his crotch and he was shuddering with barely suppressed spasms of shock and alarm.

“What’s wrong, Mario?” He settled his weight onto his knees and took Mario in his arms, soothing him. “What happened?”

It took Mario a long time to settle down. When he finally did, he didn’t speak. Instead, he gave Carver a pitiful look as he pried his trembling hands away from his crotch, exposing himself to his friend.

Carver’s face went white and he closed his eyes.

This was not possible.

This could not be possible.

He took a ragged breath, trying to steady himself as he felt his world tilt on its axis.

What the fuck was happening to them?

***

Carver’s phone was buzzing in the discarded heap of his sweatpants. He ignored it, holding Mario close and leaning down to kiss his forehead. Mario made a little sound in the back of his throat and curled into his side. The water was warm and he felt drowsy. He really needed to sleep. Yeah, sleep. He wanted to sleep and never wake up. Or if he had to wake up, he wanted to wake up from the nightmare his life had become. He fucking rued the day he’d ever set foot in that fucking nightclub. It was a fucking cursed club! He snorted. The Devil’s Club indeed!

His phone buzzed again but he continued to ignore it.

When it rang a third time, he sighed and climbed out of the tub despite Mario’s attempts to cling to him. Dripping water, he paced over to his clothes and rooted around in his pockets, trying to extricate his phone.

It was Tommy.

“Hey, Tommy.”

There was a long pause. Finally, “Carver? Is that you?”

Carver cleared his throat. He hated his new, higher voice but what could he do? “Yeah, it’s me, bro. What’s up?”

“Dequanne and I are waiting for you. I thought you said you guys’d be here at three?”

Shit, basketball! He realized in a rush that he’d completely forgotten about Tommy’s text from that morning. Yeah, well, he could be forgiven for forgetting after the fucking bizarre day he’d had. Shooting hoops was the last thing he felt like doing right then and he said so.

“Carver, please come.” Tommy’s deep voice was sorrowful. “I want to see you.” In the background he heard a voice that he assumed was Dequanne’s but he couldn’t catch what the big man was saying. After a pause, he heard Tommy explain, “Dequanne says he wants to see Mario, too.”

Carver looked over at Mario. His friend was sitting up in the tub, listening adroitly. Surprisingly, he agreed to meet up with the guys when Carver explained that Dequanne was waiting for him. Very gingerly, he pulled himself out of the tub, carefully keeping his back to Carver. He was not ready to show off what had happened to his crotch to the world, or even his best friend. Carver shook his head and went back to the phone call.

“Yeah, Ok, Tommy,” he agreed quietly, wondering if this was a good idea. “We’ll be there in a few.”

***

Tommy texted him directions to the basketball court and Carver was glad he did because he was in such a daze that he didn’t even remember how they got there. All he knew was that he and Mario pulled up at the sports park about a half hour after he hung up with Tommy. They were still dressed in the clothes they had worn to yoga even though the formerly tight outfits now hung off of their spare frames. Carver realized with embarrassment that the only part of his new body that was snug in the singlet was his ass. He pulled his hood up over his head and huddled forlornly against the car as Mario climbed out.

Mario wasn’t much better off. He lacked a baggy pair of sweats to hide his grossly changed anatomy. Carver had caught him stuffing a sock into the crotch of his tights and had been about to tease him when he thought better of it and did the same thing, jamming one of his own in his singlet. Mario’s perky bubble butt stretched out the back of his navy blue tights to the point of transparency but the compression shirt he was wearing was so oversized that is looked like a sweatshirt on his narrow shoulders.

Thankfully, the park was nearly empty of people as they slouched off across the parking lot and followed the tree-lined path to the basketball courts. Carver had no idea how he was going to play basketball with his tiny feet swimming in his shoes. He felt completely drained of vitality and wanted in the worst way to go back to their apartment and hide. He never wanted to be seen by anyone again. Shit, he didn’t even want to see himself again!

The basketball court was in the most remote park of the park, sheltered by a tall hedge on all four sides. He heard the guttural sounds of guys talking along with the beat of a dribbling ball. Normally, the sounds would have excited him; today, however, they filled him with dread.

They entered the court as Tommy went for a layup that Dequanne expertly blocked. Tommy swore and was playfully punching Dequanne in the arm when he saw Carver and Mario. He stopped and, holding basketball between his elbow and waist, strolled casually over to them with Dequanne sauntering along behind him.

Carver swallowed, ashamed and embarrassed. He cast his gaze disconsolately to the ground, feeling his ears grow hot. Mario huddled close to him, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. The two jocks stopped about halfway across the court and Carver felt his neck get red as he waited for the inevitable derisive laughter. How would he and Mario ever live their humiliating transformation down? They were fucking ruined. Their lives were fucking over!

There was a long pause. Finally, Carver couldn’t stand it and looked up.

His mouth fell open in astonishment.

As he watched, entranced, Tommy dropped the basketball and nodded to Dequanne. In tandem, the two towering guys pulled their jerseys off and tossed them aside. Then slowly, deliberately they bent over and lowered their shorts down to their ankles before standing up and kicking them off the court.

They straightened up and crossed their beefy arms, clad only in a matching pair of red jockstraps and hightop sneakers.

“You said to wear a jock and nothing else,” Tommy was saying in a droll voice. “I assume it’s Ok if we keep our shoes on.”

He paced over to Carver and looked down at him with a smug expression. Carver could only stare up at the huge man. Tommy was over a foot taller and easily sixty pounds heavier.

And…

And…

Oh, fuck, what was the use in denying it any longer?

A thrill ran down his spine as he realized that best of all Tommy was a great big hunk of sweaty, hairy man.

Carver flushed, feeling a knot rise in his throat as Tommy draped a long arm over his shoulder and led him over to the low wall surrounding the court. He didn’t resist when the big jock took him by the waist and easily lifted him up to sit, legs dangling, on the cool stone. All he could do was stare up at the handsome stud and feel his body go weak with desire. Tommy Creighton was the best looking guy he’d ever laid eyes on, so muscular, so beefy, so hairy, so…perfect. And, god, he was there in front of him, devouring him with his beautiful blue eyes. He shivered and Tommy wrinkled his forehead.

“You cold, babe?”

“No,” he sighed, feeling his pulse race and grinning because he couldn’t believe he was going to say what he said next: “I’m in love.”

Tommy’s face crinkled in a smile and he lifted his great, shaggy head to laugh loudly. Carver glowed with pleasure at the sound. Tommy had the best laugh! He glanced over at Mario and Dequanne and saw that they were deeply immersed in conversation, Dequanne was leaning over Mario, his huge package practically at eye level as Mario chattered away, occasionally stopping to ogle the big man’s bulge.

Tommy stopped laughing and reached down lower the hood of Carver’s hoodie. Soon, he was tugging it over his head as Carver halfheartedly fought back.

“Shhh,” Tommy soothed. “I just want to check out your hot bod.”

Feeling anything but hot, Carver lowered his head as Tommy pulled the straps of his singlet down. He was turning away when his friend stopped him, lifting his chin and favoring him with a radiant smile.

“I love your nipples,” he murmured as he traced a finger across Carver’s smooth chest. “And I can barely see the scar from your surgery.”

Carver started to nod but caught himself. Surgery? Huh?

He was going to question Tommy about this but the big stud was already trying to shimmy his singlet down his waist. He protested, grabbing Tommy’s hands and wrestling with him.

Tommy stopped him, though, saying, “Carver, you’re beautiful. I want to see you. All of you.”

“I’m not,” he protested, “and I don’t want you to!” His voice sounded shrill compared to Tommy’s and he had to fight back tears as the full weight of everything he had lost came crashing down on him. Was Tommy teasing him? Or was he just really ignorant? There was nothing beautiful about Carver now. Nothing.

Tommy took his hands in his own and Carver closed his eyes. His thin hands were dwarfed by the jock’s meaty paws.

“Come on, babe. Just let me take a peek,” Tommy cajoled. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine…”

He smiled inadvertently at this and Tommy laughed. “Hey, babe, do you think I’d stand around in public wearing only a jockstrap for just anyone?”

Carver’s cheeks colored and Tommy took this as permission. Very carefully, he rolled the Lycra material down his waist and smiled when the sock stuffed in Carver’s crotch popped out. Carver cried out in embarrassment but Tommy put a finger over his lips.

“It’s Ok, stud,” Tommy said reassuringly. “You don’t need to stuff anything down there. You’re already more man than I can handle.”

Carver searched Tommy’s face. Was the jock teasing him? How could he really mean that? In answer, Tommy very gently placed his great hands on Carver’s waist. He tensed but Tommy only smiled as he slowly worked his hands between the fabric of the singlet, caressing Carver’s naked flesh as he pulled the snug fabric off of him. Carver closed his eyes again. He couldn’t stand to look at himself. Despite his shame, he was incredibly aroused but, even at its most erect, he knew his dick was pathetic. He turned his head as he felt the cool air settle around his privates, the singlet slipping away.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Tommy gazed down at him. Carver hunched his shoulders. He knew that Tommy was disgusted by his tiny dicklet.

“I’m so glad you didn’t have bottom surgery,” Tommy breathed. A moment later, he caught himself, though, adding hastily, “I mean, it’s totally up to you if you do. I’ll support you whatever you decide. You’ll always be my perfect man.”

Carver’s eyes snapped open. Bottom surgery? WTF? He looked down at himself and was unable to stifle a little shriek. What the fuck had happened to his balls? His tiny prick looked weird, too, jutting out the folds of flesh that seemed to have captured his testicles. He reached out a shaking hand to touch himself but then stopped. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. A sickening feeling descended to the pit of his stomach as he understood that he now looked just like Mario…down there. What the fuck!? Could this fucked up day get any worse? He was ruined, fucking ruined.

He pushed himself off the stone wall, shoving Tommy away. He had to get out of there! He had to fucking get out of there! He spun around to gather his discarded clothing but a hand on his arm stopped him. Breathless and humiliated, he found himself staring up at Tommy as the big jock leaned down.

And then…

His lips were on Carver’s.

Tommy Creighton was kissing him!

He wanted to fight, wanted to push the big jock away, but he couldn’t. Instead, he melted into Tommy’s mouth and savored the scratchy feeling of the guy’s beard on his face as he opened his mouth and let Tommy’s tongue in.

Tommy was so gentle, sweet, and kind that Carver couldn’t resist any longer. He reached up and pulled the big man’s face down to his own as as his resolve faded away. He allowed himself to forget about everything but the delicious taste of Tommy, the warmth of his huge body pressing against him, the feeling of his wide hands slipping down his shoulders to caress his ass. Tommy squeezed and Carver realized that, if the big man loved his body the way it was, then he could learn to love it, too. Yeah, anything was possible, right? With Tommy, anything felt possible.

Tommy propped him back up on the wall and lifted his head away from his lips long enough for Carver to steal a glance at Mario and Dequanne. Dequanne was squatting, his red jock down around his thighs, as he entered his friend from behind. Mario’s face was alive with such surprise and delight that Carver had to smile to himself. He didn’t have long to savor Mario’s good fortune, though. Tommy was waiting for him…

“I want you to hold me,” the jock said, looking meaningfully down at the straining pouch of his jock. Shit, what is the big guy hiding in there? Carver thought frantically as he stared, unable to believe a guy’s cock and balls could be that huge.

Tommy flushed as Carver hesitated, saying shyly, “I…I’m too big, aren’t I?”

Unable to speak, Carver shook his head. His mouth was hanging open so far that Tommy laughed. He jiggled his package in front him insistently, urging him. “Come on, babe. Help me out here!”

Feeling himself break out in a cold sweat, Carver watched his hand reach out. His fingers clasped the elastic band of Tommy’s jock and he pulled out and down. It seemed to take forever as inch after inch after inch of the jock’s huge cock was revealed. When it got stuck, Tommy had to take matters in his own hands and pull it free.

Carver gasped. The huge, hairy tool dangling in front of him was more than a foot long and as fat as a firehose. It was fully erect but so big that the best it could do was hang there listlessly, pointing down at the ground. Carver shifted nervously on the wall feeling his crotch grow warm and moist in an unfamiliar way and it took him a while to figure out that this was how…his crotch area…felt when he was turned on. He looked down at himself and flushed. His little dick was bright pink and poking out of the hairless folds of…Shit, he didn’t want to think about it and turned back to Tommy as he handed him something.

It was a condom.

A super-sized condom.

“Put it on me?”

After a struggle and lots of moaning and mashing, they finally managed to get the condom on Tommy’s huge member. Carver was in shock, unable to process the crazy, fucked up shit that had happened to him and the surprising turn of events that had brought Tommy Creighton to him, naked and aroused and begging to enter him. But he didn’t care. He was past caring about anything but Tommy. All he wanted was to hold the big man and kiss him and…

“Can I fuck you now?”

Tommy’s shoulders were red and his hair was dripping with sweat. He was holding his incredibly huge cock in his hands and leaning in toward Carver, an eager expression on his face. He looked almost superhuman standing there, so big and tall and hairy and hung. An impossibly perfect specimen of masculinity.

And he wanted Carver.

How could he say no?

He guided Tommy’s cock inside him, purposely not thinking about the new, mysterious, and unwanted orifice beneath his cock where his balls should have been. No, he didn’t want to think about that right now. And he didn’t want to think about how naturally lubricated he was down there or how easy it was for him to accommodate Tommy’s massive tool when it should have been impossible. It should never have been possible for Tommy to fuck him there. It should never…

…have felt this good.

He screamed in ecstasy as Tommy thrust inside of him and he forgot all about anything else. By the end when Tommy was simultaneously fucking him and tickling his little cockhead with his finger, he didn’t care. In fact he caught himself feeling that maybe all of his changes weren’t so bad if they brought him to this new world of pleasure and delight. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a pussy…

Mario reached out and squeezed his arm then as he and Dequanne and Carver and Tommy reached orgasm at the same time, side by side and shoulder to shoulder. He knew his friend was feeling the same way that he did. He knew that Mario and he had found happiness despite losing everything and being remade.

They were new men exploring a new world.

He smiled and pulled Tommy closer, feeling his fat cock spasm inside him as the big guy climaxed. And he was happy. Really, really happy.

***

A couple months later, Carver, Tommy, Dequanne, and Mario came to The Devil’s Club to celebrate. Tommy and Dequanne had been signed by the NFL and were leaving soon to join their new teams as professional football players. Carver felt a twinge of envy because he still had vague memories of his previous life as a football jock. Mostly, though, those memories were fading and he was happy that he’d been accepted into graduate school in the same city where Tommy’s team was headquartered. He and Tommy had already picked out their apartment and he was looking forward to attending every game and cheering for his fiance’s team. Tommy had surprised the sports world by coming out after he was signed and Dequanne followed suit immediately afterward. The two big jocks were keen to inspire other gay athletes to join them.

Carver’s hormone treatments were really kicking in and he was proud of his new, thick beard and the body hair that was growing all over his torso. The big muscles were a plus, too. He and Mario had adjusted to their new reality as female-to-male transgender guys and, despite being smaller in stature than their partners, they looked pretty damned butch, Carver thought proudly. He looked over at Mario and winked. His friend was so handsome!

Carver had let Tommy pick out the nightclub and didn’t realize where they were until it was too late and they were already strolling through the glowing red doors. He stopped dead in his tracks but Mario urged him on.

“Come on, baby! We need to do this. We need to come back here.”

Carver shook his head but Tommy tugged him inside and made him take a seat at the bar, standing behind him and massaging his shoulders. Tommy didn’t know about Mario and Carver’s experience there three months ago but he knew that his lover was upset and did his best to soothe him. Despite Tommy’s best efforts, though, Carver felt himself growing more anxious.

“So,” a familiar voice called out from across the bar, “I see that  I was right and you boys will never have to worry about getting pussy again!”

Carver scowled as he turned and saw the hated blond bartender smiling broadly at them. Tommy gave the guy a blank look and the man laughed. It was a high-pitched, mirthless sound that made Carver shiver. Mario was gritting his teeth next to him.

“This calls for a little celebration,” the man continued. “Cocktails on the house!”

He produced a tray with two grotesque, green-colored martini glasses and placed them in front of Tommy and Dequanne. The two guys stared at them uncertainly before reaching out to take them.

“NOOOOO!!!” Carver cried as he and Mario grabbed desperately at the drinks.

“Babe, it’s a free drink!” Tommy complained as Carver threw his drink on the floor, smashing the glass in a thousand pieces. Mario flung Dequanne’s across the room where it splattered against the far wall.

“I’ll buy you another one somewhere else!” Carver shouted. “Let’s just go!”
Tommy and Dequanne looked disappointed but Carver and Mario wouldn’t give in until they agreed to leave. As the walked out, the creepy bartender shook his head disgustedly, saying, “How rude! And I was just being hospitable!”