Chapter 1

Something happened to Dustin’s big brother, Scully, when he was with his friends. And it wasn’t just him; his best bros, Skye and Scout, turned into total assholes, too. Individually or in pairs, they were fine and Dustin enjoyed it when they were around. But when the three guys were together, everything went south and Dustin hated it.

“Hey, fag,” Scully called out to him from the driver’s seat, “Gimme me a shoulder rub. Put those girly hands to use!”

Dustin crossed his arms and sat back in the seat behind his big brother, scowling. Under his breath he muttered, “Fuck you.”

Or at least he thought he’d said it under his breath. Scully’s hearing must have been better than he’d thought because, barely a heartbeat later, the old Ford Bronco skidded to a halt on the dirt road. Dust filled the air as the inside of the car went ominously silent. Dustin’s skin broke out in a sickly sweat.

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you little faggot,” Scully growled, “gimme a fucking back rub!”

Skye snickered from the passenger seat while, beside him in the back seat, Dustin felt Scout suppress a chuckle. On the far side of the back seat, Mahal–the only one of Scully’s friends who didn’t turn into a total fucker when the gang was assembled–let out a low whistle. “Scully,” he warned, “lay off him.”

This was the wrong thing to say because Scully took the admonishment as a challenge to his alpha dog status. With exaggerated slowness, he turned to stare at Mahal, a feral look in his light hazel eyes. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Lard. Ass,” he barked. “Yer nothing but a stupid, short-dicked cunt.”

Now trembling, Dustin turned to see Mahal clench his jaw, his face growing dark as his sensitive eyes went cold. His pronounced adam’s apple dipped down once. Twice. Three times. Then…

Nothing.

Mahal closed his eyes and turned toward the window.

With this act of submission, the tense atmosphere inside the car dissipated and Dustin watched Scully’s eyes flash with triumph in the rearview mirror. “Hands on my back now, faggot,” he ordered, catching and holding Dustin’s gaze, an evil glint in his eye.

Dustin sighed, hating his brother with a smoldering passion. But, of course, he had no choice; he did as he was commanded and obediently raised his hands and commenced rubbing his back. After a few moments, Scully pressed down on the accelerator and the Bronco roared off down the road.

Scully had just shown everyone he was the undisputed master.

***

When they had reached their destination at the backcountry campground, Scully turned to Dustin and Mahal and commanded, “You two faggots gather firewood while us menfolk set up camp.”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed. After the incident in the Bronco, Scully was even more full of himself than usual. He was standing in front of the car, hands on his hips, flanked by Skye and Scout. Dustin bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at them, realizing as he did so that, even though Scully fancied himself the big badass of the trio, there really wasn’t much difference between them. All three guys were essentially interchangeable; even their names were alike. 

To distract himself from his seething hatred, Dustin began to mentally list all of the ways the three friends were alike. As the list grew longer, it became almost ridiculous. Did they, he wondered, go out of their way to look the same? Was it Skye and Scout trying to imitate their leader, Scully, or was there something else going on?

Careful to keep his expression neutral, he smirked inwardly as he reviewed the similarities. 

They were dressed the same; each wearing a baggy pair of cargo shorts, a red t-shirt, leather hiking boots, and a Cubs baseball cap. They stood the same height (six feet), shared the same hair color (sandy brown), the same eye color (hazel), and the same abundance of body hair: Dense, black-brown hair curled out from under their shirt collars. The same, thick hair covered their legs. 

Standing as they were with their crotches thrust proudly forward, there was no disguising another trait they held in common: Ample endowments. Dustin had only seen Skye and Scout naked a couple times but Scully took every opportunity to show off his huge dick. Every day that summer he’d rolled out of bed at noon and strutted around the house, wagging his morning wood conspicuously while his much littler brother gritted his teeth and looked the other way. No matter how, ahem, hard he tried to ignore him, this ostentatious display had the intended effect: It left Dustin feeling inadequate and envious.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Dustin forced his thoughts away from his brother’s thick cock and back to listing the trio’s likenesses.

All three had dense but neatly trimmed beards in contrast to the shaggy hair poking at odd angles out from underneath their backward-turned baseball caps. All three sported broad chests, wide shoulders, narrow waists, and powerful legs. All three played defense on the same college soccer team. All three, Dustin concluded reluctantly, were deadly handsome. Perhaps most significant in that moment, though, was the fact that all three were total assholes.

He looked down at the dirt before casting a covert glance over to Mahal. The tall guy was standing off to the side, looking unhappy. Like Dustin, he was probably wondering why the fuck he’d agreed to come on this camping trip in the first place. Unlike Dustin, though, Mahal had had a choice: He could have stayed home whereas Dustin had been forced by his father to go along. His father had insisted, explaining there was no alternative; he was going away on business and refused to leave his youngest son at home alone. Dustin and Scully (who didn’t want his kid brother tagging along any more than Dustin wanted to tag along) had argued vehemently but it was no use. According to their dad, at age fourteen Dustin was too young to stay home by himself.

“Well?” Scully prompted when neither Dustin nor Mahal showed any inclination of moving.

“You girls vamoose. Skedaddle. Get outta here.”

Mahal glanced at Dustin, his expression tortured. A brief, hopeful moment passed when it appeared that he would stand up to Scully. In the end, though, he acquiesced just like he’d done in the car. Turning without a word, he stalked off into the bush. Dustin’s shoulders slumped and, grabbing his book from the back seat of the car, he headed off in the opposite direction.

Behind them, the trio of identical assholes exchanged fist bumps.

***

Dustin had never been to this particular region in the national forest. It was further in than he’d gone before and had been harder to get to; Scully’s Bronco had been hard-pressed at certain points when the road narrowed down to a broken trail. After four hours of bouncing and jolting, though, they had finally arrived at the camping site and, unsurprisingly, had found it completely deserted.

Book in hand, he wandered up a wooded ridge that eventually brought him to the edge of a vast precipice. His breath caught in his chest as he took in the vista; the evergreen forest spread out below him like a verdant palace, reaching as far as he could see to the distant mountains. The sun was warm on his shoulders and the breeze ruffled his hair. The air smelled of pine and aspen. Overhead, a red tailed hawk circled. Despite his sour mood, he found himself smiling. If he was forced to spend the week with Scully and bros, at least he was in a beautiful place with plenty of room to get away.

To his left, the ridge continued upward and, lacking any particular plan other than to put distance between himself and Scully, he decided to follow it. The higher he went, the terrain grew more rugged with chunks of granite jutting like worn teeth through the carpet of fallen needles. Around him, the tree trunks grew gnarled and were spaced farther apart. A little further on, he came upon a small creek gurgling amongst the boulders. Barely more than two paces wide, it was crystal clear and inviting. He stopped and squatted down, feeling sweat trickle down his back. The summer day was growing warm as the sun rose high overhead and he splashed his face, shivering with delight as the frigid water refreshed his sunburned skin.

Straightening, he looked around and was surprised to discover the stream filling a small basin in the crevice of a bunch of nearby boulders. Lush ferns ringed the pool, the deep green leaves dripping with moisture from the spray of a small waterfall. Dustin smiled. Kicking off his boots and pulling off his sweaty socks, he padded over to the basin, settling down on the rocks and dangling his bare feet into the water. The pool was wider and deeper than he’d guessed from his vantage point downhill. The water was so clear that he could see submerged boulders and branches strewn on the distant bottom. Hovering above them, the ghostly forms of trout hung suspended, their shimmering bodies scattering rainbows of light.

Dustin lay back with a contented sigh and opened his book, quickly losing himself in the unfolding tale of a cursed prince and a wicked stepbrother.

***

Perhaps an hour later, he sat up gasping, tossing the book into the ferns as he thrashed about on the rocks. The dream had been so vivid, so unbelievable, so erotic, and so…disturbing that it took him awhile to realize it hadn’t been real. When he spotted Mahal, clad only in his boxers and wading into the pool before him, he let out a startled yelp.

“Mahal!” he cried, drawing his legs protectively in front of his crotch to hide the evidence of his arousal. (Not that he needed to bother; his still prepubescent penis had only barely begun to sprout.) “What–? I mean, how–?” 

His voice broke off as he found himself unable to finish the question. Skin prickling and cheeks coloring, he looked away. He couldn’t believe that the man he’d just been dreaming about was standing before him, almost as if he’d been conjured out of thin air. And, shit, what a dream it had been!

For his part, Mahal seemed amused by Dustin’s reaction and regarded him with a half smile on his handsome face. “You were so into your dream,” he commented wryly, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“H-H-How long have been you here?” Dustin stammered, cheeks flaming.

“Long enough,” came the unwelcome reply.

Dustin looked off to the side, trembling from both the embarrassment and residual arousal of the dream. He wished fervently that Mahal would leave but he showed no such inclination, continuing to wade deeper into the pool. When Dustin turned back to him, he promptly wished he hadn’t; the water had just reached the jock’s crotch, turning his loose, white boxers nearly transparent. There was no mistaking the outline of his fat cockhead, nor the dense, blackness of his woolly pubes.

“Join me?” Mahal invited. When Dustin cringed, he queried, “What’s wrong, Sport? It’s not like you’re the first kid to have a wet dream. Welcome to puberty, bro!”

“A wet dr–?” Dustin began before his voice broke off.

Then he felt it.

A telltale wetness.

And stickiness.

Feeling like the bottom had just dropped out of his world, Dustin’s gaze dropped downward and he flinched when he saw the spreading wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. Immediately, he dropped his hands to cover it, losing his balance on the rock in the process and nearly tumbling off. He managed to catch himself but only after he’d landed in a pile of decaying fern fronds. Sitting up, he plucked detritus out of his hair with one hand while keeping the other firmly over his crotch. Nearby, Mahal fought valiantly but eventually couldn’t contain his laughter and burst out with a loud guffaw that echoed over the water and carried off into the breeze.

Dustin scowled, shrieking, “Fuck you!” He wished his high voice was deeper and carried more authority. Instead, he sounded like a squeaky mouse.

It was here that Mahal showed his maturity. Whereas Scully would have mocked Dustin’s boyish tone, Mahal refrained. The tall jock merely smiled and gave him a sly wink, urging, “Come on, bro. You’re turning into a man. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that. Come in and rinse off that spooge!”

A chill of premonition ran up Dustin’s spine with these words. This was exactly how his erotic dream had begun…before rapidly escalating in some of the most bizarre and wonderful ways. When he hesitated, Mahal beckoned to him, lifting his hands and motioning with his fingers enticingly.

Dustin took a deep, shuddering breath and staggered to his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned his back to Mahal and unfastened his belt, letting his shorts fall down around his ankles. Still unable to believe what he was doing, he kicked them off and then clapped his hands over the crotch of his boxers. He winced as his fingers closed around the sticky material and his still-throbbing (tiny) cock but somehow managed to ignore the sensations as he took a tentative step toward the pool.

Standing on the rocky edge, his toes touched water and he shivered with delight at the crisp coolness. Before him, Mahal laughed, reaching down and splashing him lightly. Dustin cried out in protest, shoulders shooting up toward his ears but it didn’t stop him from creeping forward and stepping more fully into the water.

Here he halted, unwilling to wade in deeper. He didn’t want to get his white boxers wet because he didn’t want Mahal to see how inadequate he was. He hated his scrawny chest, stick-like arms and legs, and nonexistent cock. Scully was a god in comparison to him and Dustin doubted his body would every develop into anything nearly as impressive. He was doomed to be a tiny mouse for the rest of his life!

In the dream, though…

In the dream, his body had been different.

“Um, Dustin?”

He jumped at the sound of his name and looked up to find Mahal watching him with a soft expression in his beautiful, dark eyes.

“Yeah?” he squeaked.

“You don’t got nothin’ I ain’t seen before. I have a kid brother, too, you know.” He paused, smiling down at the water as he admitted, “I was small when I was your age, too. Real small. But now look at me!”

For some reason, this made Dustin flush. He was about to say something in reply when he surprised himself by asking abruptly, “Are you gay?”

If Mahal was taken aback by the question, he didn’t act like it. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m gay.” Then he looked up and fixed Dustin with his unsettling gaze, asking, “What about you?”

His matter of fact answer and blunt question made Dustin blink. He couldn’t believe that Mahal was actually gay! He’d thought that Scully had just been being an asshole when he called Mahal a faggot. Finding out that the big, sexy jock was gay caused the gears to turn wildly inside his head, leaving him befuddled. After a while, he realized that Mahal was still waiting for his answer and he took a breath, opting to sidestep the question by asking instead, “Does Scully know?”

Mahal nodded again. “‘Course he does! Why do you think he said what he did?”

“So, he wasn’t…?”

“Nope, he wasn’t making it up,” Mahal conceded. Looking back down at the water, he continued in a low voice, “He was dead on. I am a faggot, a lard ass, and a short-dicked cunt.”

“Mahal!” Dustin cried out, shocked that the jock would repeat Scully’s taunting words. “Stop! That’s not true!”

The big jock’s mouth quirked. “Which part?”

“You’re not fat.”

Laughing, Mahal spread his arms and looked down at himself. “Really? Look at me! I’m built like a fucking tank!”

Uncomfortably, Dustin studied the tall jock’s naked torso, taking in his broad shoulders, bulging pecs, and rounded stomach. Sure, Mahal wasn’t ripped like Scully and his dumb bros but he wasn’t fat! Dustin could still see traces of the bumps and ridges of Mahal’s six pack underneath the padding. 

And then there were those big arms, wide hips, and powerful thighs. 

And loads of thick, black body hair. 

And the stylishly-sculpted, black hair on his head.

And his woolly beard.

And especially those big, brown nipples… 

Dustin shook himself, realizing his eyes were glazing over and his little dicklet was thrumming insistently beneath his hands.

Mahal seemed not to notice Dustin’s interested scrutiny as he prattled on, “I mean, I’m half Filipino and half Eastern European for chrissakes! I’m destined for rotundity! And hair! Have you seen how fat and hairy Polish men get?”

Before Dustin could formulate a response, Mahal floored him by yanking down his boxers. Dustin’s eyes went round as his gaze landed on the jock’s stout, fat cock and large, hairy balls nestled within an overgrown black forest of pubes.

“There,” Mahal announced, pointing both index fingers down at his little man. “That’s a short cock. And, trust me, I’m not much of a grower, either.”

Dustin didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was too busy gaping at Mahal’s magnificent manhood bobbing mere inches away. He’d led a sheltered life with an overprotective father who maintained stringent parental controls on the family computers and refused to allow Dustin to have a smartphone. This was practically the first time he’d seen a naked guy other his dad and big brother…and, at those times, he’d been careful to avert his gaze for fear of arousing any suspicions. 

Right now, though. Shit, Mahal was on full display. Right in front of him! And Dustin wasn’t looking away. Hell, no! How could he? And waste an opportunity like this? This was the one time when could openly check out the man of his dreams. (And what a dream it had been!) On its own, any part of the big stud would have been enough but taken together, the totality of Mahal’s potent masculinity was too much and Dustin was overcome by lust.

And then it happened.

The worst thing ever.

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!

Without warning, puberty struck again.

Convulsing, Dustin bent over and spontaneously shot another load in his boxers, all but toppling down into the water in a desperate attempt to hide. He sat crouched down there in the frigid water, knees drawn up to his chest and body vibrating with the most intense orgasm of his young life. His nerve endings frayed. It was a total pleasure overload. At the wrong time and in the wrong place. It was too much. Too much!

Belatedly, Mahal woke up to the effect his nudity was having on the poor Dustin and he abruptly pulled his boxers back up over his crotch. He stood there, hand poised above Dustin’s shoulder as he debated what to do. Finally, smiling reassuringly, he settled down on the rocky ledge next to the boy, careful to sit far enough away to give Dustin some space and a measure of privacy.

“Sorry, bro,” he murmured after a while. “That wasn’t cool. I forgot what it’s like to be your age. It seems like so long ago even though you’re only five years younger. A lot happens in those five years, though. Trust me. A lot.”

Dustin couldn’t have replied if he’d wanted to. His teeth were chattering and his dick was throbbing painfully as the spasms took forever to dissipate. He was beginning to worry that something was wrong when there was a final, painful throb and his cocklet stopped convulsing. He took a ragged breath and exhaled unevenly, mortified at this inexplicable loss of self control. (How was this even possible?) If this was puberty, he could do without it, thank you very much!

His mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to croak, “Mahal?”

The big jock tilted his head, arching an eyebrow inquisitively. “Yeah?”

“Will I be big like you someday? I wanna be big!” 

After he’d blurted out the question, Dustin cursed silently. Why had he said it? Why had he just revealed his most secret fear? Shit, almost his whole life he’d been obsessed with being small, hating his body, hating himself for being so tiny. Scully had always been bigger even when he was the same age as Dustin. Fucking Scully had rocketed into puberty with a growing body and lengthening dick to show for it. But Dustin? Not Dustin. Dustin’s body had been slow to change, slow to develop, slow to show any signs whatsoever of manhood. It was passing him by while every other boy his age grew big and strong. What was wrong with him? Why was he so small? Why?

Mahal considered Dustin’s question in silence for a long time before exhaling and leaning back on his elbows. When he spoke, his voice was low, tender. “You realize your dad is a total beast, right? And I never met your mom’s dad but Scully showed me pictures of him once. That dude was fucking stacked! And you know what else?”

Dustin shook his head, refusing to look over at the big jock. His grandfather had died when he was a baby and Dustin couldn’t even remember what he looked like. All he knew was that the man had emigrated from Spain and worked as a stevedore at a port in the city where his parents met. Other than that, the man was a mystery to him.

“You look just like him,” Mahal mused. “He was dark-skinned like you, had the same wavy, black hair, the same brown eyes. And big bones…just like you. You can always tell a guy’s gonna be huge by his bones.”

Blinking back unwanted tears, Dustin held out his thin arms, protesting, “But my bones aren’t big! Look at me! I’m a stick!”

Mahal chuckled. “Nah, man! You just haven’t put on any muscles yet. Just wait. When you do, yer gonna be twice as big as I am. Now, you might end up being on the heavy side ‘cuz your grandad wasn’t a skinny guy but you’ll definitely be big. Take my word for it.”

“I don’t care if I’m heavy as long as I’m big,” Dustin swore and meant it, even though he found it impossible to believe that Mahal could be right. Big? Strong? Muscular? Pffft. He looked down again at his narrow chest and reed-thin arms and frowned. There was no way. No way. He was going to be small and skinny for the rest of his life.

Mahal studied him thoughtfully, a wry smile touching his lips, as he watched these thoughts spin around in Dustin’s head. Finally, he sighed and slung a beefy arm over his shoulders, tugging him against his side. His heavy body felt warm and inviting and Dustin all but melted into him, causing Mahal to chuckle. “Aww, buddy!” he soothed. “Don’t worry. Scully might be an asshole but you’ll grow up even bigger and badder than him. Now let’s get cleaned up and head back to camp. I’m hungry!”

***

Chapter 2

Mahal took the lead on the way back to the campground. At first, Dustin was too worked up from the erotically charged experience at the spring to do anything but follow sullenly behind him. Before they’d left the pool (and while Mahal politely kept his back turned), he’d squatted down in the water and scrubbed his shorts and splashed water over the crotch of his boxers. He’d succeeded in getting rid of the cum stains but now his underwear and shorts were soaking and they itched like crazy. Even worse, they tightened up as they dried and soon his shorts were pinching in all sorts of places. 

He growled in frustration as he stopped to readjust himself for the hundredth time. Ahead of him, Mahal drew to a halt and looked over his shoulder questioningly. “You Ok back there, dude?”

Dustin was about to reply when he noticed the way that Mahal was standing. He was partially turned, his weight balanced over his left leg and his hip thrust outward. Jesus Christ! Dustin thought, another feverish wave washing over him. That’s an ass!

It was true.

Mahal had a beefy butt and it was even more obvious with his hip pushing out like that. Dustin was entranced, wondering why he had never noticed the big jock’s backside before. Had it always been that big? Shit! He really had it going on back there!

When he didn’t respond, Mahal turned and caught him staring. Dustin jerked, hurriedly looking away but his flaming cheeks betrayed him and Mahal’s face broke into a wolfish grin. “Aha! I knew it!” he crowed. “Yer a baby dom top in training, aren’t you? Ha! I can spot ‘em a mile away.”

Huh? ‘Dom top’? Dustin wondered. What the fuck is that?

Before he could ask what Mahal meant, the big jock continued, “If you were twenty years older and two hundred pounds heavier, I’d bend over and spread my hairy cheeks for you faster than you could blink an eye.”

“Ungh!”

The moan escaped Dustin’s mouth before he could stop himself. Down in the crotch of his soaking boxers, his cock spasmed and he felt another spurt of cum shoot out. This time, though, it stopped there and he wasn’t treated to another spontaneous orgasm…yet. He clamped his teeth down on his tongue to distract himself from the waves of desire washing over him and turned away from the tempting sight of Mahal’s big ass.

Behind him, he could hear Mahal chuckling. “Hey, buddy!” he called out. “I’m sorry for leading you on! My shorts are extra tight for some reason. I don’t know what’s going on back there but my ass isn’t normally this big. Not that I’m complaining, mind you!” When Dustin didn’t reply, Mahal exhaled and paced over, coming to stand in front of him. “Hey,” he said, taking Dustin’s chin in his hand and staring meaningfully into his eyes. “You don’t have to hide from me. Being horny is nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

Dustin looked away and nodded weakly. He really just wanted Mahal to stop touching him. It wasn’t helping to calm his state of arousal. When the big jock dropped his chin, he let out a long sigh of relief, saying, “I think it is better if I go in front from now on.”

With Mahal looking on in amusement, he lurched forward and led the way back to the campsite.

***

Scully, Skye, and Scout were nowhere to be seen when they reached the campground. They had set up camp, pitching the tents and setting up a small stove near the fire pit. A big pile of firewood was stacked nearby and the water jugs had been filled from the hand pump across the dusty parking lot but there was no sign of the guys.

“It’s a good thing those fuckers picked up firewood,” Mahal commented as he surveyed the campsite, “‘cuz we sure as fuck didn’t.”

“Where are they?” Dustin asked, casting about and pricking his ears in an attempt to pick up some indication of where the trio might have gone.

“Do you really care?” Mahal quipped, surreptitiously tugging on the back of his shorts. (His ass, Dustin noticed, looked even bigger than it had on the trail.) “As long as they didn’t take the food with ‘em, I say good riddance!” Rubbing his protruding tummy, he grabbed a bag of potato chips out of the car and then headed off to pull a couple beers out of the cooler. “You want one, buddy?” he called out.

Dustin was busy stretching out the neck of his t-shirt–It felt like it was strangling him! Why was it so tight all of a sudden?–and started to decline but Mahal had already tossed a can over to him. Somehow he managed to catch it, looking askance at the beverage, a little scandalized. He was only fourteen! And Mahal wasn’t old enough to drink, either. For that matter, none of the guys were of drinking age yet. Where had Scully gotten all the beer from?

“Dude,” Mahal drawled, popping the top of his beer and leaning back to take a long guzzle. “If ya wanna get big, ya gotta start drinking beer! No better source of carbs out there!”

Dustin made a face but nonetheless gamely pulled up on the tab of the beer and took a small sip. “Yuck,” he pronounced, handing the beer back to Mahal. “You can have it.”

Mahal laughed. “C’mon, it’s just one beer. I’m not gonna let you drink more than that. ‘Sides, nobody’s around to see us. Let’s cut loose!”

With that, he strolled over to a picnic table and plopped down on the top with his legs spread wide and feet resting on the bench. He looked, Dustin decided then, absolutely fucking delicious and it wasn’t long before he had settled down next to him, sitting so close their thighs were pressing together. He nursed his beer, casting an occasional worshipful glance over at the big jock.

“Shit, why’re my shorts so tight?” Mahal complained after they’d sat in silence for a time. He reached down and tugged on the waistband of his cargos, making an unhappy face. When he turned over to Dustin, his eyebrows shot up and he exclaimed, “Holy fuck! Your tits are practically bustin’ out of that shirt, buddy! Have you been lifting weights or sumthin’?”

Dustin started to say, “What? No!” but stopped when he hugged his hands against his chest. Looking down, he saw that the cotton fabric was stretched tight against his torso. He blinked. The unmistakable square outlines of pectoral muscles were bulging outward. Even more obvious were the twin points of his pert nipples. “I-I-I,” he stammered, unable to come up with a rational explanation for the sudden appearance of these muscles.

“S’alright, buddy,” Mahal drawled, bumping his beer can against Dustin’s. “Happens to the best of us. See?” He puffed up his chest and Dustin was momentarily captivated by his glorious pecs and huge nipples. Mahal winked, saying, “Welcome to manhood, bro. Welcome to manhood.”

***

Dustin was feeling tipsy after drinking half of his beer and Mahal was finishing up his second and still there was no sign of the missing trio. Mahal stretched theatrically on the picnic table next to him and grabbed the bag of chips from his lap, emptying the crumbs into his gaping maw. Wrinkling up the bag, he wiped the back of his hand across his face and brushed off his beard.

“Welp,” he said, sighing contentedly. “I ‘spose we need to find those fuckers, huh?”

Dustin nodded, staggering a bit as he stood up from the table. His clothes felt even tighter with his shorts biting into his legs and his t-shirt threatening to cut off the circulation to his arms. What the fuck was going on with his clothes today?

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Mahal laughed and slapped him hard on the back, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Ha!” he chortled. “You’ll get yer sealegs under ya after I’m done with ya!” He paused contemplatively a moment before adding, “Or maybe that’s ‘beerlegs’?” He snorted with laughter at this joke and hauled himself to his feet. Weaving a bit before he got his balance, he yanked on the back of his shorts and started off down the trail, calling over his shoulder, “C’mon, buddy! Let’s go get ‘em! I’ll bet they’re down at the ol’ watering hole.”

Bemused, Dustin watched the big guy (and his ever more prominent ass) lurching away for a moment before taking off after him.

***

He caught up to Mahal after a hundred yards or so but then realized his bladder was full and stopped to take a pee. “Hold on, Mahal!” he called out. “I gotta pee.”

Mahal halted, back stiffening as Dustin darted behind a tree to unzip his still damp shorts. “Oh, no, you don’t!” he yelled after him. “You get back here right now!”

Dustin stopped, looking back over his shoulder and asking, “Huh? What’s wrong?”

Mahal sighed loudly through his nose. “Dustin, it’s time you learned how to be a man. If you’re gonna be a dominant top, you gotta start practicing. Now, get over here.” 

Confused, Dustin stumbled over to the big guy. He shook his head, feeling dizzy from the beer. It was probably just the effects of the alcohol but for some reason Mahal seemed shorter than he remembered. Or was Dustin taller? He shook his head again, trying to clear it. When he drew closer to the big jock, though, he realized it wasn’t his imagination; his head was now even with Mahal’s ears. Just that morning, he was certain that the jock had been a head taller. Or had he? Dustin closed his eyes, feeling the world spin around him. It was probably just the beer…

“First lesson,” Mahal said when they were standing shoulder to shoulder, “you never say, ‘I gotta pee,’ OK? Only subs like me can say that. A top always sez, ‘I gotta take a piss, man.’ Got it?”

Dustin nodded, head still muzzy; he’d never even thought about it but it sort of made sense. Scully always said he had to take a piss and he was definitely dominant.

“Good,” Mahal said. “Now say it.”

Dustin cleared his throat and repeated, “Dude, I gotta take a piss.”

Mahal shivered with delight, all but purring, “Fuuuuuuuuck! You see? You’re a natural! Your voice already sounds deeper. You’re gonna be the best fuckin’ top ever, I can tell!”

Dustin beamed with the praise but Mahal didn’t let him bask in the warm glow for very long. Taking him by the shoulders, he ordered, “Push your shoulders back and widen your stance. A hung top always keeps his stance wide to accommodate his huge cock and swingin’ pair. Got it?”

“But, Mahal,” Dustin objected. “I’m not hung! I don’t got nothin’ down there!”

Mahal wagged his finger in front of his face, admonishing, “Shhhh! You’re practicing, remember? You might not have a big dick now but you will someday. In the meantime, fake it til you make it!”

Dustin nodded and solemnly spread his feet out wide and thrust his shoulders backward while Mahal smiled approvingly beside him.

“See! See! Ah, fuck! That’s it!” the big guy cheered. “I’m fuckin’ swoonin’ over here! Jesus! You’re getting me hard just watching you!”

Dustin grinned, heart bursting with pride. He loved Mahal so much in that moment. Why couldn’t Mahal be his big brother instead of that asshole Scully? In fact, why couldn’t Mahal be more than his brother? Why couldn’t he be his…? Cheeks coloring, he stifled the thought before he got too carried away. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough because his cock had already hardened inside his shorts; he could feel it pressing insistently against the scratchy, moist fabric of his boxers.

“Now, unzip and unleash the beast,” Mahal commanded, fighting to unbutton his shorts next to him.

“Uhhh, Mahal…?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

Dustin swallowed, cheeks growing hot. “I can’t do it right now.”

Mahal looked askance at him as he fished his stubby cock out of his fly. “Why not? What’s wrong?”

Dustin hung his head, unable to speak. Inside his shorts, his cock was throbbing almost painfully. He was uncomfortably aware that he was standing so close to Mahal that he could feel the heat emanating from the big jock’s body. It didn’t help his situation at all!

“Are you pee shy?” Mahal asked delicately.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Mahal inquired, turning to him with his big, blunt cockhead poking out of of his shorts. Dustin flushed a deeper shade of red and willed himself to look away but couldn’t take his eyes off of that beautiful, stumpy cock.

Dustin took a deep breath and gathered up his courage, finally making the fateful decision to be bold and act like a man. (If I’m gonna be a ‘dom top’, I gotta start acting like one!) Looking Mahal directly in his eyes, he stated evenly, “I can’t piss with a hardon, dude.”

Mahal blinked. There was a moment of startled silence before he burst out laughing. “That’s my man!” he praised after he’d collected himself. “Fuck! That’s my man! You’re a natural, Dustin! A fucking natural!”

Gaze sliding back to Mahal’s fat cockhead, Dustin smiled slowly and then did the unthinkable. He reached down and unzipped his (too tight) shorts and pulled out his throbbing cock. It all but burst forth, thrusting out hard and proud before him.

“Whoa,” Mahal breathed, eyes dropping downward to take in his exposed glory. “That’s some piece ya got there, man. And you said ya ain’t got nothin’ down there! Looks like puberty’s already in full swing, dude.”

Giving him an insouciant smirk, Dustin looked down and then stifled a gasp when he saw his erection. “Fuck, man! I’m so big!”

“Uh, yeah,” Mahal drawled. “That’s what I wuz sayin’. You’re already bigger than me! Shit! Yer gonna be a fuckin’ hung top in no time! Fuck, like I’ve been sayin’, if only you were twenty years older and a couple hundred pounds heavier, you’d fuckin’ be my daddy!”

Dustin’s smirk faded as he contemplated Mahal’s words. He knew that the jock was all grown up and that he himself was years away from being ready to pursue a relationship with someone like him but he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. Oh, how he wished for Mahal to find him attractive!

Beside him, the big jock had turned and started pissing, his thick stream of urine splashing loudly on the ground between his feet. Dustin sighed, realizing that his erection was already subsiding as the disappointment settled over him like a wet blanket. Rather than letting it get him down, though, he opted to put on a brave face. Squaring his shoulders and thrusting out his hips, he pissed like a fucking racehorse.

***

They found Scully, Skye, and Scout asleep on the rocks next to a steaming sulfur spring about a half mile from the campsite. The water of the spring was stained a brilliant yellow, looking more than a little like a big vat of piss and the rotten egg smell was atrocious. Dustin had covered his nose well before they arrived at the basin.

Mahal was in front of him and stopped dead in his tracks as they rounded the bend, causing Dustin to nearly run into him.

“Hey, dude!” Dustin shouted. “What the fuck?!” 

He was feeling his oats after displaying his erection to Mahal. He still couldn’t believe how big his cock had grown. Maybe it was because he was so turned on? Did it stretch out the more turned on you were? Fuck, if that was the case, he’d have a huge cock in no time. Maybe he’d even be bigger than Scully?! A thrill ran down his spine and up his cock at the thought. In seconds, he was rock hard again. It had to be his thousandth erection that day.

“Shhh, buddy!” Mahal whispered, holding up his hand. “Take a look at ‘em, would ya?”

Curious, Dustin crept forward and peered over Mahal’s broad shoulder. When his gaze landed on Scully and his friends, his eyes went wide and he breathed, “Holy fucking shit!”

“I know, right?” Mahal murmured, pulling his iPhone out of his pocket. “I gotta record this for posterity. Fuckin’ Scully’ll never live it down!”

Dustin watched, mesmerized, as Mahal tiptoed up to the sleeping friends, pointing his phone and pressing the record button. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Scully, Skye, and Scout were completely naked and on display in the slanting sunlight. That in itself wasn’t so unusual; the three guys went skinny dipping frequently and weren’t self-conscious in front of each other. Why should they be? They were fucking muscle gods after all! 

What got Mahal and Dustin’s attention was the intimate way the three friends were lying together on the rocks. Scully was on his back with Skye’s head resting on his chest and Scout’s head draped over his feet. More scandalous were their obvious erections; each guy’s cock was a rigid pole pointing up over his belly. And even more damning was the unmistakable pool of pearlescent jizz gathering in the furrow of their bellybuttons. Clearly, the three friends had engaged in a torrid circle jerk before drifting off into a postcoital slumber.

Mahal’s camera panned over the carnal scene, zooming in and lingering on the men’s hardons and creamy cum, still moist and shimmering in the summer sun. When he was done, he pulled back and gazed upon the trio, shaking his head.

“Shit, I fucking wish there was cellular signal up here!” he exclaimed. “I’d fuckin’ send this to Scully’s girlfriend in a heartbeat. It’d serve the fucker right!”

Dustin’s feelings were more mixed. It made him uncomfortable seeing Scully spread out like that. Unlike the sight of Mahal’s naked body, Scully’s nudity did nothing for him. Perhaps it was because it was his brother? Or maybe it was because he felt like he was intruding? He shivered. Even the sight of Skye and Scout left him feeling uneasy. On the surface, it didn’t make sense. Their studly bodies were amazingly defined and their cocks were so hard they were beet red. Dustin had only caught a few glimpses of Mahal’s flaccid dick and it had gotten him all hot and bothered. Why didn’t he feel similarly about Skye and Scout’s hard poles?

And there was something else…

Something wasn’t quite right and it wasn’t the trio’s nudity or throbbing erections.

Something was off but what was it?

It took awhile but he finally got it. The three men looked different. It was probably the angle and the fact they were lying down but they looked…smaller. Diminished somehow. Their muscles didn’t seem quite so pronounced. And their cocks…well, how to put it? Even completely erect, their cocks weren’t very impressive.

They were kind of small.

And slender.

Dustin’s brow furrowed as he forced himself to study the naked guys. Shit, he’d seen Scully’s flopping morning wood every day for the past month and (even though he’d tried not to look at it closely) he knew it had been bigger. A lot bigger. And fatter. Scully had been hung like a fucking stallion even when he wasn’t fully erect. But…But now that his cock was as hard as a cock could get, it was sort of insignificant.

And what had happened to his body hair?

Squinting, Dustin realized that all three of the guys had less body hair than he remembered. Even their beards looked thinner. And their pubes… Unless they’d just done a severe bit of manscaping, they should have had more pubic hair than that.

It was unsettling.

Dustin was about to comment on his observations when Mahal pocketed his phone and marched to stand over the sleeping Scully. Calling out in a singsong voice, he said, “Wakey, wakey, Nakey Boiz!”

Groaning, Scully cracked an eyelid and shielded his face from the sun as he squinted up at Mahal. “Fuuuuuck,” he whined. “I’m tryna take a nap here.”

What’s wrong with his voice? Dustin wondered. He sounds different.

Mahal nudged him with his foot and Scully sat up on his elbows. If Dustin hadn’t been so unsettled, the dawning expression of horror and embarrassment on his big brother’s face would have been entertaining. Shrieking in an almost girlish fashion, he leapt up and clamped his hands over his erection. Skye and Scout, rudely awakened when their heads clunked down on the hard rock, sat up and looked around sleepily. It took them a few moments to become aware of their aroused states but, when they did, the forest echoed with their plaintive cries.

“Heh,” Mahal chuckled, watching the three naked guys jumping around like excited frogs. “Maybe this trip is gonna more fun than I thought?”

***

Chapter 3

Dustin had a good vantage point to sit back and observe the melee. While Skye and Scout darted around collecting their discarded clothing, trying vainly to get dressed while keeping their still-throbbing cocks covered, Scully gave up all pretense of modesty and lunged at Mahal, grabbing at the iPhone in his outstretched hand. Mahal, for his part, was having the time of his life. The big jock laughed heartily as he held his phone over his head and taunted Scully. Foremost among his taunts, of course, was a promise to send the homoerotic footage to his girlfriend but Mahal didn’t stop there. He came up with all manner of devious plots to expose Scully and his friends to the online world.

Scully jumped and jumped but Mahal kept the phone dangling just out of his reach. Even brute force failed because he wasn’t strong enough to wrestle it away. Mahal was just too big…and sneaky. He fought dirty and used Scully’s nudity against him, seeking to fondle and grab the guy’s private parts whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was quite often given how desperate Scully was.

Dustin watched the scene with interest, not out of enjoyment–although part of him did savor seeing the tables turned against Scully and his bros for once–but for another reason entirely. He was astonished by how much the three friends had changed. When Skye and Scout finally managed to get dressed, their formerly tight-fitting shirts hung loose and baggy off their diminished frames. Skye’s belt didn’t have enough notches to properly tighten his shorts and they kept slipping down and exposing his tiny, flat buttocks. Even the guys’ formerly muscular legs had thinned down leaving their knobby knee joints wider than their upper legs. They looked like a couple of gangly preteens.

Dustin shook his head, skin prickling. What was going on? Was he still drunk? Had he been out in the sun too long? Hallucinating?

Shaking his head, he turned back to Mahal and Scully, still locked in combat over possession of the iPhone. Scully was just as skinny as his friends and his cock–still obviously erect–appeared even smaller than moments ago. But that wasn’t what captivated Dustin’s attention.

No, it was Mahal.

Mahal.

Shit, Mahal!

He was a fucking beast!

The big jock had always been broad but now he was even beefier. His thighs were heftier and his shoulders were broader. His neck was corded with muscle. His t-shirt and shorts were stretched to capacity, making his changes appear more exaggerated  Even his face was wider, fuller, more mature. His black beard was denser, longer, fuller…sexier.

Unlike the trio of friends who seemed to have grown younger, Mahal looked older. Dustin wasn’t very good at estimating ages (everyone over the age of fifteen looked old to him) but he guessed that Mahal looked to be  at least five years older. As impossible as it was to believe, Mahal had grown up in the space of an afternoon, going from a stocky jock in his late teens to a fully developed man. Dustin’s knees went weak just looking at him and his cock did the opposite, going rigid with excitement. He reached down and massaged it thoughtfully, giving a little start when his fingers touched something far too big and hard to belong to him. Confused, he looked down and gaped at the big bulge tenting out his shorts.

Fuck!

Was that really his cock?

But…how?

Before he could do any further investigation, he was interrupted by an enraged shout. It took him a moment to realize it was Scully because the timbre of his voice had changed so much.

“I hate you! HATE YOU!” he screeched at Mahal, voice breaking pathetically. “You’re so MEAN!”

With that, he turned and stormed into the underbrush, leaving a bemused Mahal behind him. Dustin met Mahal’s gaze and the big stud shrugged his great shoulders, a smug look on his face.

“I’ll handle this,” Dustin growled, his voice crackling with newfound authority that gave him pause. (Was he coming down with a cold or something? Why was his voice so deep?) A startled howl from Scully, however, meant that he didn’t have time to ponder the mystery right then; he needed to help his brother! Marching past Mahal, he ordered, “You look after Skye and Scout. I’ll take care of Scully.”

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” Mahal teased, standing at attention and giving him a mock salute. “I gotta say it’s super hot watching you take charge.” He paused to wink at him, adding, “Best. Top. Ever.” 

Dustin flushed but before he could make a reply to this, Mahal turned to the pair of sullen boys, calling out cheerfully, “Let’s go, kids! Momma’s gonna make dinner now. Y’all hungry?”

***

Scully had become entangled in a briar patch not far from the sulfur springs. By the time Dustin reached him, he’d made the situation worse by flailing around and his naked skin was scored with welts and scratches.

“Hold still!” Dustin commanded, his voice settling permanently into a lower register. “Let me help you.”

Scully jumped at the sharp crack of his voice but then went still. He looked mournfully over his shoulder at Dustin, eyes red-rimmed. Dustin waded gingerly through the brambles, heart softening when he saw how thoroughly caught Scully was.

“Awww, buddy,” he soothed. “Here, I got ya.”

While Scully stood there, body trembling and blood trickling down his chest, butt, and legs, Dustin worked diligently to free him. It took him awhile but he eventually succeeded. When he was done, he straightened and looked down at his handiwork. A wave of disbelief washed over him when he realized he now stood a head taller than his ‘big’ brother.

This…can’t…be…happening! he thought, mind racing frantically.

But it was true.

He was taller than Scully.

And that wasn’t all.

From his vantage point, he had a clear view of Scully’s body and that view was disorienting to say the least. Nearly all of the hair had disappeared from his body; only a few delicate strands of pubic hair clung to the base of his decidedly smaller cock and balls. (His dick is the same size as mine now…or at least the size mine was this morning before all this, this–whatever!–started happening!) There was no sign of hair on his legs or arms.  The same was true of his formerly glorious beard; only a tiny bit of down adorned his upper lip.

He’s my age now.

The realization left him dizzy and breathless. He reached up and mopped his sweaty brow and was lowering his hand when he felt something on his cheeks.

Hair?

Was that hair on his cheeks?

He tugged on it and realized he was imagining it; there really was hair on his face now. Not a lot of it, mind you. Just a bit here and there. Not enough to be considered a beard yet but it was a start.

He was growing facial hair!

“Dustin,” a wavering voice called out, startling him out of his revery. “What’s wrong?”

He glanced down to find Scully watching him, a worried look on his young face. He looked terrible with blood still welling up out of numerous cuts and abrasions on his naked body. Dustin shook himself and smiled reassuringly as he replied, “Nuthin’, bud. Let’s get you outta here, Ok?”

He started to kneel down but stopped when he felt his shorts give way back and he straightened again abruptly. Looking down at himself, he did a double take when he saw the obvious outlines of muscles protruding against his skin tight t-shirt. And his much beefier legs were threatening to bust his canvas shorts wide open. In the viselike confines of his shoes, his cramped feet were screaming in pain. He’d been so focused on helping Scully that he hadn’t noticed the misery his clothing was inflicting on his poor body. He was being strangled to death by his clothes!

Fuck! What the fuck is happening to me?

Taking a deep breath, he forced his confusion and growing alarm aside in order to deal with Scully. There would be time to figure out what was going on when they got back to the campground. There had to be a rational explanation. There had to be!

“Here,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You take my shorts and shirt. They’ll fit you better. I’ll pick up yours when we get back to the spring.”

This was easier said than done. It took a herculean effort to extract himself from his shorts and shirt without shredding them in the process. When he was finally free of the torturous items, he breathed a sigh of relief as he handed them over to Scully. While the boy gingerly stepped into them, Dustin tried hard to ignore the way his formerly loose-fitting boxers were now barely decent. He wasn’t about to remove them and give them to Scully, though. His body might have changed but his modesty was still intact. For practical reasons, he opted to keep his shoes, reasoning they would do more good on his feet than Scully’s.

Once his little, big brother was dressed, Dustin carefully squatted down, urging, “C’mon, bud. Get up on my back! I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Scully’s round face broke into a grin and he leapt up on Dustin’s shoulders, hugging his arms around his neck and whooping with delight when Dustin staggered to his feet and made his way carefully through the brambles.

***

Mahal was busy cooking up hamburgers on the grill when they arrived back at the camp. He held a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other, a smoldering joint hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Like Dustin, he’d stripped down to his boxers, revealing his stunningly hairy physique. With his massive arms and round yet muscular belly, he looked like one of those heavyweight Olympic wrestlers that Dustin always lusted over. Nearby, Skye and Scout hunched together on a picnic table, looking on forlornly, their bony legs pulled up to their chests. 

“Ho-lee shee-it!” Mahal called out when he spotted Dustin emerge, still carrying Scully on his back. “Would ya look at you? What a stud!”

Dustin looked away, cheeks reddening as he knelt down. Scully screamed with delight before hopping off and scampering on gangly legs over to his friends. The boy had demanded that Dustin carry him the whole way even after they’d stopped by the springs to retrieve his discarded clothes. Carrying his formerly hulking older brother with relative ease was a surreal experience for Dustin.

“Here,” Mahal said, holding out a beer. “You look like you could use this.”

All of his former reluctance to drink alcohol disappeared as he gratefully accepted, tilting his head back and guzzling down the beer. “Christ!” he swore when the can was empty. “Mahal, what the fuck is happening to us?”

In reply, Mahal handed him the joint, saying, “Take a good, long drag on this. Everything will become clear.”

Lifting a skeptical eyebrow, Dustin held the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply, taking the acrid smoke into his lungs. He managed to let it linger there for some moments before being overtaken by a coughing fit. When he’d finally recovered, he stared over at Mahal balefully, complaining, “And how exactly is that ‘sposed to help?”

Mahal shrugged. “Just wait for it to kick in.”

Dustin gave him a hangdog grin, still fighting the urge to cough, and paced over to Scully’s backpack, lying in the dirt next to the tents. He reasoned that his brother’s clothes would now be a good fit for his new, inexplicably bigger body.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he announced after pulling out some clothes. His head was beginning to spin as the marijuana flooded his system. “Won’t be but a minute.”

“Take yer time, bro,” Mahal replied. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”

The delicious aroma of the cooking meat wafted past Dustin’s nostrils then and his stomach growled, reminding him that he was starving. He gave Mahal the thumbs up and staggered unevenly over to the rustic, solar showers on the far side of the campground. Maybe when he was clean and well fed, things would go back to normal? He could always hope…

***

Mahal was right; the marijuana did help.

When he stripped out of his boxers and beheld his larger cock and heavier balls nestled in a tiny but spreading nest of black pubic hair, he grinned. Maybe this ain’t so bad! he thought, reaching out to catch his balance on the shower stall. He stroked himself hard as he waited for the water to warm, amazed to see his cock now surpassed the width of his palm. What is that? Five inches? Shit! I got a whole five inches of man meat!

And he was thick!

His cock was thick for the first time in his life!

He waggled it, watching it sway back and forth with pride kindling in his chest. I’m growing up finally! I’m finally becoming a man!

There was more.

A few strands of curly hair had emerged in the center of his chest and the fuzz on his cheeks was more pronounced than it had been just a while ago.

I’m growing hair! I’m gonna finally be hairy!

And muscles.

He had muscles!

Pronounced ridges of abdominal muscles and defined pecs. Bigger biceps and triceps. Noticeable deltoids. Quads! He had quads! Even the sharp diamonds of calf muscles pushed out from the back of his lower legs. He slid his hands down his waist and cupped his butt cheeks, glowing with happiness when he realized he had an ass for the first time in his life. It wasn’t nearly as big and impressive as Mahal’s but it was an ass nonetheless.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This is amazing!!!

It wasn’t all good news, though. There was one change that alarmed him. He had stepped into the spray and started to lather up when he noticed the skin on his arms. Furrowing his brow, he stared down in alarm. What was that? A bruise? No, not a bruise. It was too big and regular to be a bruise. A stain, then? Yeah, it had to be a stain. When he rubbed soap over himself and the stains didn’t wash off, though, he freaked out.

“SHIT!” he yelled. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Overwhelmed by panic, he bolted out of the shower, still covered in soap. He had to find Mahal! Mahal would help him! Mahal would know what was going on!

***

“Hmmmm,” the big man murmured as he surveyed Dustin’s outstretched arm. Dustin was still dripping wet, his arm quivering in Mahal’s grip. “Looks like sleeves to me, buddy.” He glanced up, smiling as he nodded with certainty, repeating, “Yep. Definitely sleeves.”

“S-S-S-Sleeves?”

“Yeah, and, hey, look! They’re getting darker as your skin dries off!”

Dustin stared in horror at his arms, realizing that Mahal was right. The stains were rapidly darkening on his skin. Soon, the muted colors had grown bright, vivid and unmistakable.

Tattoos.

His arms were covered with tattoos from the back of his hands all the way up to his shoulders. In a distant part of his mind, he appreciated the artistry and color of the designs. His left arm was covered with bold, geometric patterns with sharp edges and fierce colors. His right arm was stenciled with flowing, soft, delicate images of lush green leaves and brilliant flowers. A hummingbird graced his deltoid. A butterfly spread its gossamer wings over his wrist.

“They’re pretty fuckin’ hot, if you ask me,” Mahal declared. “You look badass.”

“I don’t feel badass,” Dustin said unhappily. “I feel like a freak.”

“Whoa,” a small voice breathed beside him and Dustin looked down to see that Scully had crept over from the picnic table and was staring with wide eyes at his tattoos. “That’s SO cool! Wow! Can I get tattoos like yours? Huh? Can I?”

Dustin flushed, realizing belatedly that he was still completely naked. It didn’t help that, when he turned to look behind him, he discovered that Skye and Scout were gaping at him. He dropped his hands down and covered his crotch self-consciously and took a step backward. His whole body felt feverish and his brain was on the verge of exploding. He couldn’t take any more of this! He couldn’t!

Mahal noticed his impending freakout and took pity on him. Producing another joint, he held it up to his lighter and puffed on it until it was good and lit. “Here,” he said, thrusting it into Dustin’s mouth. “Go get rinsed off and toke on this. You’ll feel better. I know I do!”

***

Despite the day being one monumentally long mind fuck, that evening was the happiest of Dustin’s life. Pleasantly blitzed on beer and pot, he and Mahal fell into an easy rhythm and enjoyed the sort of camaraderie that Dustin had always longed for with another guy. Mahal took good care of him, treating him to a delicious meal and even cleaning the dishes afterward.

“I gotta feed my top,” he joked as he scrubbed the pans. “A good bottom always puts his top first.”

Feeling extra bold, Dustin grinned, quipping, “Ya know what else a good bottom does for his top…?”

“Shhh,” Mahal warned, holding his finger to his lips and looking over at the three boys sitting at a picnic table nearby, munching contentedly on their burgers. “Not in front of the children!”

“Later then,” Dustin said, only half in jest. “After they go to bed.”

Mahal fell silent at these words. When Dustin looked over at him, the big man was eyeing him speculatively, an unfamiliar expression on his face. Slowly, he met Dustin’s gaze before looking away again. Dustin’s cock twitched in (Scully’s) shorts. He was getting ready to hold open his arms and beckon Mahal into them when the silence was rent by a loud tearing sound. Dustin looked around in confusion, trying to identify the source of the noise.

“Oops,” Mahal said, grimacing and clapping his hands behind him. “Methinks I just got too big for my britches!”

He quickly disappeared, making a beeline for his tent but not before he treated Dustin to a stellar view of his world class, hairy ass hanging out the back of his shredded boxers.

***

Chapter 4

Scully woke Dustin in the middle of the night crying plaintively, “I gotta pee!”

Dustin groaned and rolled over in his sleeping bag. He had a pounding headache and felt like his brain was stuffed with cotton. When Scully shook him, he groaned, “Fer chrissakes, Scully! We’re in the middle of the fuckin’ wilderness. You can go out and piss wherever you want!”

There was a pause and then, “But I’m scared.”

Dustin cracked a sleepy eye. Christ, his head hurt! It even hurt to think. “Argh, Scully!” he complained, stopping to cough and clear his throat. Jesus, he must be coming down with a major cold or something. He sounded like a fucking baritone! “There’s nuthin’ out there that’s gonna hurt ya.”

“There is something out there,” came the weak reply. “I heard it!”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Dustin opened his eyes and then closed them again when he realized the darkened tent was spinning around him. Fuckin’ Mahal! he thought. That’s the last time I let him talk me into smoking pot and drinking beer! He was about to reply when he realized something. Turning in the direction of Scully’s voice, he demanded, “Hey! What’re you doin’ in here anyways? I thought you were sleeping in Skye and Scout’s tent.”

There was a stifled sob and then, “They kicked me out.”

“Jesus!” Dustin swore, sighing through his nose. “Don’t let ‘em push ya around, Scully. Go kick their asses!”

“I can’t!” Scully whined. “I’m too little!”

Dustin collapsed back down on his sleeping pad and, turning over onto his side, harrumphed, “For fuck’s sake, Scully! Leave me alone. You can take a piss and deal with Skye and Scout on your own. You don’t need my help.”

If he thought this would work, however, he was sorely wrong.

Barely five seconds passed before Scully started crying loudly, “But, you’re my DADDY! I need my DADDY!”

Daddy? WTF?! Had Scully been smoking dope, too? Or was this some sort of twisted joke? Scully didn’t give him long to ponder this, though. When wailing didn’t work, he commenced sobbing, burrowing against Dustin’s shoulder and crying pathetically. If he was joking, he was doing an excellent job of pretending.

Finally, Dustin couldn’t stand it any longer and he sat up, sighing, “Alright! Alright! Jesus! I’ll go outside with you so you can pee. Happy?” He rubbed his forehead, feeling like his head was about to explode. Fuck, he felt terrible!

“Can I sleep in here with you, too?”

Dustin threw his aching head back in resignation. “Sure. Yeah, whatever. Just don’t keep wakin’ me up, Ok?”

“I promise.”

Groping around blindly for the tent zipper, Dustin somehow managed to heave his aching and heavy body outside. He’d worn a pair of Scully’s old boxers and t-shirt to bed and he could’ve sworn they’d been loose when he put them on. Now, though, they felt like they were three sizes too small. Fuck! Why was everything such a pain in the ass? Literally. His ass felt like it was going to break through his boxers at any moment.

He waited for Scully to emerge and was surprised when the boy tucked his hand inside his own. Reflexively closing his fingers around it, he marveled at how little it was. Didn’t Scully have big hands? He was his older brother after all? He shook his aching head, feeling his beleaguered brain sloshing around.

“Here,” he said gruffly after stumbling over to a nearby shrub. “Go on. Piss.”

Scully dropped his hand and Dustin waited for the telltale trickling sound. When it didn’t happen, he looked over. It was dark so he could only see the vague outline of his brother but even so he blinked when he realized that the top of Scully’s head barely reached his elbows. Dustin closed his eyes, reaching up to massage his forehead. Jesus! He had to be dreaming all of this!

When a minute had passed and Dustin still couldn’t hear Scully pissing, he barked, “What the fuck is taking you so long! Just do it! I wanna go back to sleep.”

There was the sound of muffled sniffling followed by this meek reply, “I-I-I-I can’t! Something’s wrong. It’s just leaking out.”

Dustin snorted in exasperation, saying, “Did you pull back on your foreskin? How many times do I have to remind you to do that?”

“F-F-Foreskin?” Scully stammered. “I don’t got no foreskin!”

Dustin stopped, confused. Why had he said that? His parents had both Scully and him circumcised at birth…or had they? He shook his head again, trying to clear it. His parents…his parents…his parents. 

Fuck, who were his parents?

Images of different people spun around inside his head. There was his dad, a big shot business executive who worked in mergers and acquisitions. His mother lived in California and had remarried. Scully and Dustin barely ever saw her. And then there was his other father. (Other father?) A welder who worked in industrial construction and who was nearing retirement. His mother ran a daycare inside their home.

A chill ran up his back and he clenched his buttocks, feeling even sicker than he had moments ago. What the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t get a handle on his thoughts. And his memories were all jumbled up. 

Who was he?

Beside him, little Scully was crying in earnest now and Dustin shook himself. Taking a deep breath, he softened his tone as he coaxed, “Your foreskin, Scully. Just pull it back and aim for the bush. You can do it.”

Scully stopped crying long enough to try and Dustin was rewarded a moment later with the distinct tinkling sound of the boy’s stream pattering off the nearby leaves. While he was standing there waiting for him to finish and he realized he had to piss, too. Groggily, he slipped his hand inside his boxers to fish out his cock. 

When his fingers touched it, though, he yanked them back as if stung, shouting, “FUCKIN’ SHIT!”

He must have scared Scully because the boy screamed, “What, Daddy? What’s wrong? Did you see a bear?”

“More like a snake,” Dustin muttered before he could stop himself. 

Scully, thinking he was serious, shrieked, “A SNAKE! THERE’S A SNAKE!”

Dutrin cringed and desperately tried to shush the kid before he woke everyone up. He was too late, though. Mahal called out sleepily from his tent, “Would you two fuckin’ keep it quiet out there? Jesus. I’m tryin’ ta sleep!”

Dustin clapped his hand over Scully’s mouth, hissing, “Shhhh! I was just kidding. There’s no snake. Now gimme me a sec. I gotta take a piss.” 

Scully nodded and Dustin dropped his hand. Steeling himself, he reached down once again and, biting the inside of his lip, pulled out on his cock.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

Finally, after many breathless seconds, he liberated it from the confines of his boxers and the firehouse flopped down, slapping painfully against his kneecaps.

FUCKING SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME????!!!!

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!

THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE!!!

No man has a cock this big!

Only fuckin’ horses have cocks this big!!!

Keenly aware that Scully was right next to him, he turned away, hoping to hide the evidence of his mutant cock. He was so glad that it was almost pitch black and not just because he was modest about displaying his equipment to his brother. He couldn’t bear looking at it. He did not want to see it!

He closed his eyes, almost forgetting his advice to Scully from moments ago. Fortunately, he remembered at the last second and, reaching way, way down, slid his voluminous foreskin back off his glans. Then, holding the sagging monster in both hands, he let loose with a monumental torrent of piss. (Jesus Christ! It really is a fuckin’ firehose!) 

Urine gushed out, slamming into the foliage and soaking everything before him for at least ten yards. After his bladder was finally empty, he heaved a sigh of relief and wagged his freakish monster dry. Then it was time to haul the massive schlong back into his boxers, something much easier said than done. He gritted his teeth the whole time, trying desperately to think about puppies, kittens, rainbows, unicorns…anything but the cock that could not possibly belong to him.

This is a dream, Dustin! It’s only a dream! Yer gonna wake up in the morning and everything will be back to normal! Yer gonna be a fourteen-year-old with a small prick and an asshole for a big brother. It’s just a–

“Carry me, Daddy!”

He opened his eyes and looked down to find the hazy form of Scully imploringly holding his sticklike arms up in the air. He smiled in spite of himself. His young son could be a real pain in the ass at times but he made up for it by being awfully cute. He squatted down and swung him up in his arms, carrying him back to the tent.

***

The smell of frying bacon drifted through the tent the next morning, filling Dustin’s nostrils and reminding him that he was ravenously hungry. He sat up, smiling to himself. He fuckin’ loved Mahal! Mahal was such a good husband!

Huh?

Husband?

Mahal wasn’t his husband; he was just a friend of his older brother.

Brow furrowing, Dustin lay there, waiting for his sleepy brain to wake up. He must have been dreaming. Yeah, that was it. As much as he would love for it to be true, Mahal wasn’t his husband. He sat up and looked out the fly of the tent.

And stifled a yelp of surprise.

Mahal was standing at the cook stove, his back turned to Dustin. Smoke rose lazilly into the luminous morning air before him, carrying with it the delectable aroma of bacon. It was what Mahal was wearing–or, rather, what he wasn’t wearing–that got Dustin’s attention.

Mahal was clad in a white jockstrap and nothing else.

Stifling a moan, Dustin chewed on his knuckles as he beheld the bountiful beauty of the big jock’s backside. His ass was beyond huge, bubbling out like a fucking muscular balloon behind him. The beleaguered straps of the jock were strained to capacity in their attempt to hold it back from exploding.

And the hair!

Oh, that glorious hair!

Mahal’s magnificent ass was carpeted with so much thick, black, curly, pillowy goodness that it was all Dustin could do to resist the urge to bury his face in it right then and there. He gazed upon Mahal with reverent worship. The man’s body was the perfect balance between rugged muscularity and enticing softeness and this was nowhere more apparent than in his ass. 

Prominent and receptive. 

Bold and giving. 

Robust and delicate.

Just like Mahal.

His Mahal.

Still oblivious to Dustin’s interested scrutiny, Mahal turned to tend to the fire in the pit nearby. Then, with his back still to Dustin, he forever altered the trajectory of Dustin’s life with a simple movement.

He squatted down.

A long, tortured moan escaped Dustin’s lips as his eyes beheld the most delectable sight ever encountered in his young life. As those massive, fuzzy globes descended toward the earth, they spread languorously outward, parting to reveal a hidden treasure.

Dustin’s mouth went dry and he sat up, squinting eagerly, trying to get a better view of the shadowed glory.

He licked his lips.

Something foreign, heavy, and…hungry…stirred in his groin.

And he acted.

He had unzipped the tent flap and closed the distance between himself and that ultimate temptation, that divine entreaty, that secret gateway of desire, before he knew it. He grabbed hold of Mahal’s hips and pulled him upward, taking him into his arms and smothering his neck with passionate kisses. He ground his crotch against the man’s hulking buttocks, growling in frustration when he realized that his sleeping bag was still wrapped about his midsection and, no matter how hard he tried, he was not nearly potent and powerful enough to thrust his way through it.

“Well, good morning to you, too!” Mahal said, laughing as he turned around and returned Dustin’s embrace. “How’s my big, studly top this morning?”

Dustin chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that was both familiar and alien to his ears. He was dimly aware that he now towered over Mahal which meant that he was at least six and a half feet tall. He didn’t waste time thinking about that, though. He was too busy devouring Mahal with his eyes…and his mouth.

They met in a fit of hungry passion, Dustin wrestling for dominance until his tongue vanquished Mahal’s and the big stud surrendered, allowing himself to be taken completely. This didn’t mean that he became passive, though. No, he engaged in lighthearted tongue play, teaching Dustin the art of subtlety in kissing. Soon, they were lost in a delirious game of oral cat and mouse that left Dustin panting and on fire. He grabbed Mahal’s massive cheeks in his hands and kneaded them, savoring their heft and softness. His ass was so malleable that it enveloped his fingers almost without resistance but then Mahal tensed and his glutes firmed up again. Dustin sighed. A muscular and giving ass! What could be better?

 Mahal stopped him, though, when he started to rip off his jockstrap.

“Whoa, dude! This is the only piece of clothing that fits me now! Don’t shred it!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care!” Dustin growled. “I want you naked! NOW!”

Mahal seemed about to say something when his eyes clouded. A moment later, he shook himself, a look surprise on his handsome, bearded face. “Dustin? Little buddy?” he exclaimed, bushy eyebrows rising in confusion. “I barely recognize you!”

“It’s fucking me alright,” Dustin grunted, resuming his efforts to tear off the offending jockstrap.

“Shit, Dustin, hold on for a sec!” Mahal complained. “Let me have a look at you.” He stepped back and gave Dustin the once-over, examining him from head to toe, his eyes growing wide. When he was finished sizing him up, he reached up and mopped his brow, shaking his head. “Incredible. Fuckin’ incredible! I swear you were just a kid yesterday…” His voice trailed off and he looked down at himself, seeming to become aware of his own increased size and heft for the first time. “Holy shit!” he breathed, holding out his bulky arms and staring down at his massive chest and tree trunk thighs. “I’m huge! And…old!”

“Yer not old!” Dustin protested. “Yer only five years older than I am!”

“And how old is that?” Mahal pressed, eyes narrowing. “How old are you, Dustin?”

“Twenty-four.”

“No, Dustin! You’re fourteen. Fourteen years o–” his voice broke off and he shook his head. When he looked back at Dustin, his eyes were unfocused. “I-I-I, I mean, you’re right. You are twenty-four and I’m twenty-nine. I dunno what I was thinking.”

Dustin shrugged. “I dunno, either. Now let’s get back to…” He reached out to take Mahal in his arms but once again the big man stepped away.

“Hold on!” Mahal shouted, recovering himself. “We gotta fight against this! This isn’t who we are!”

“Mahal…” Dustin warned, growing tired of his husband’s strange behavior.

Mahal waved him away and padded over to his tent. A moment later, he returned carrying a little pocket mirror. “Here,” he said, thrusting it into Dustin’s hand. “Look at yourself. Is this really who you are?”

Sighing, Dustin took the mirror and glanced down at his reflection. He started to say, “Yeah, that’s me alright,” but then stopped in confusion, leaning in closer to examine himself.

A dark-skinned, bearded man with thick, wavy, black hair, a slim face and strong cheekbones stared back at him. Prominent tattoos adorned his neck, curling all the way up to his ears. He turned and moved a stray lock aside, revealing three gold rings pierced through his upper ear. Hands shaking, he lowered the mirror and looked down at his torso, doing a double take when he beheld his muscular chest etched with colorful, abstract tattoos. Every sinew was perfectly delineated underneath his inked skin. His pecs were huge and so were his heavily-tatted arms but his waist was slender, almost willowy. Above all, though, he was hairy. Neatly trimmed but still dense, black hair covered his chest, sweeping all the way down to the sleeping bag that was still wound around his lower body.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

Mahal nodded. “See? That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. We gotta stop this! We gotta–”

Dustin cut him off, face spreading into a wolfish grin, “Look at me! I’m a fucking stud!” 

“Dustin!” Mahal chastised. “This is serious! We have to–”

Silently, Dustin let the sleeping bag fall away from his waist, revealing that he was quite naked underneath.

Quite naked and hung.

Really, really, really, really hung.

To underscore just how massively hung he was, he wagged his hips, making his serpentine schlong sway languidly against his ankles.

Mahal’s jaw dropped and not just because of his eye-popping size.

There was more.

The tattoos didn’t stop at Dustin’s waist.

No, they continued down.

Lower.

Much lower.

In fact, they covered every square foot of his massive cock.

His cock had been tattooed into the likeness of a ferocious snake. And not just any snake.

An anaconda.

The largest snake in the world.

***

Chapter 5

“There’s no way that thing is real,” Mahal stated, staring down at Dustin’s ridiculously huge cock. “That’s gotta be fake.”

Dustin smirked, saying, “Oh, yeah? Look.”

Slowly, the behemoth bobbing between his legs rose up, up, up, up. Mahal was forced to back away in order to make room as Dustin’s anaconda lifted rigid and pulsing before him. Defying gravity and several laws of physics, it stood proudly erect. Mahal’s mouth fell open.

“And that’s not all,” Dustin bragged. “Watch.”

Acting on instinct, he took his monster in both hands while contracting pelvic muscles he didn’t realize he possessed until that moment. Slowly, he pulled back on his swollen cock, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. 

Mahal’s eyebrows shot up as Dustin’s cock shifted and changed. “Jesus,” he swore. “Is that even possible?”

Dustin nodded, dropping his hands. “Yeah, it’s my superpower.” He wagged his newly shortened (but still incredibly long) cock, a silly smile on his face. His cock was now half as long but twice as fat. It thrust out before him like a true third leg. Reaching out to pat it fondly like a pet dog, he added, “And now it’s time for you to show me your superpower and take all of me inside you.”

Face going white, Mahal backed away from him, holding up his hands, stammering, “N-N-No! No way my hole can take that thing!”

“Awww, Mahal,” Dustin coaxed, stepping forward and drawing him into his arms while simultaneously squatting down to push his massive cock between the big man’s thighs. Mahal moaned, a deep sigh escaping from his barrel chest. “Don’t worry,” Dustin continued, “I got this. I’ll be gentle. We’ll take it slow. It’s better like that anyway.” To underscore this promise, he lowered his lips and kissed his husband sweetly on the lips, savoring the way their thick beards commingled. Mahal went slack in his arms, body thrumming with desire.

“I…I…I,” he said, resistance faltering. “Dustin, I can’t say no to you.”

“Good.”

“But,” Mahal amended, opening his half-closed eyes and meeting his hungry gaze, “I won’t say yes until you agree to do something for me in return.”

Dustin blinked. “Sure, babe. Anything for you.”

Mahal flashed him a quick smile. He pushed his weight back onto his feet but was careful to remain in Dustin’s sheltering embrace. “I will agree to be your faithful husband if you agree to go back to that pool we waded in yesterday and dive in one last time.”

“Pool…?” Dustin wracked his brains but couldn’t remember anything about a pool.

“Yeah, the pool I found you sleeping next to yesterday,” Mahal explained patiently, as if he were talking to a small child. “Back when you were still a scrawny, fourteen-year-old boy.”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” Dustin demanded, confused. “I haven’t been scrawny since I was a kid!”

Mahal shook his head. “You were a kid, Dustin! Yesterday, you were fourteen and I was nineteen and you can’t tell me otherwise. Something changed when we went in that pool. Something that made us older…and screwed with our bodies and sense of reality.”

Dustin was getting tired of this nonsense. His cock was throbbing, aching for release. Being wedged between Mahal’s generous thighs, mere inches from his most desired target, was driving him crazy. At that point, he would agree to anything just to get Mahal to ride him like a bitch in heat. Shit, he’d fucking jump off a cliff if it meant he’d score that delectably huge ass on the end of his fuck-trunk!

“I see you’re too far gone to understand what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Mahal observed, eyes narrowing. “But that’s Ok. You’ve probably forgotten about my promise, too, right?”

Dustin nodded, tongue hanging out of his mouth. He truly had no clue what Mahal was prattling on about. He pulsed his massive cock, forcing Mahal’s legs apart, and pushed in deeper between his thighs. He had to fuck that hot, hairy hole! NOW!

“Bear with me a sec,” Mahal pleaded, body going damp with sweat. He was, Dustin realized then, just as eager to fuck as he was, perhaps even more so. “This is important. Yesterday, I told ya that if you were two hundred pounds heavier and twenty years older, I’d be yours. That’s still true. Right now, you’re only a hundred pounds heavier and ten years older. You still have another decade and a hundred pounds to go.”

“Ungh.” Dustin’s eyes rolled back in his head. Lust hazed his vision, lust coursed through his veins, lust filled his monster cock. Lust. Lust. Lust.

He barely heard Mahal’s final words. “A quick dip in that pool should fix things. Go up with me and jump in. Then me and my hole will be yers!”

The magic words! Those were the magic words he’d been longing to hear! Dustin opened his mouth, preparing to throw back his head and let loose a triumphant howl when they were interrupted by a small voice calling out from one of the nearby tents.

“Poppy!” the young voice wailed. “Is breakfast ready yet? I’m HUNGRY!”

Mahal’s eyes went wide as he looked up at Dustin, mouthing the word, ‘Poppy’?

Dustin didn’t reply. He was too busy scooping up his discarded sleeping bag and wrapping it around their joined waists, hiding their nudity. He wasn’t a moment too soon. As they turned in the direction of the tent, Scout’s head appeared behind the screen window. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he paused a moment before asking quizzically, “What’re you and Daddy doin’? Are you kissin’ again? Ewwww!”

Mahal looked from Dustin to Scout and back to Dustin again, his lips sealing in a tight line. “Daddy? Poppy? WTF?” he grumbled. “I’m blaming you for this!” 

Dustin lifted his shoulders, grinning apologetically, and Mahal huffed. Pulling away, he wound a portion of the sleeping bag around his waist before turning to stir the bacon. Dustin yelped, frantically fighting for enough of the sleeping bag to keep his nudity away from Scout’s prying eyes. He was about to reply when pathetic sobbing erupted from his tent. He and Mahal swiveled to see Scully emerge from the opened fly, wailing at the top of his lungs. It didn’t take long to figure out why he was so upset: The front of his pajama bottoms was soaking wet with urine.

“Daddy!” Scully cried, holding out his arms to Dustin. “I wet myself!”

Dustin looked over to Mahal to find the big man glaring at him with crossed arms. He opened his mouth to apologize but, before he could utter a word, Scout laughed rudely. “Dude!” he called back to the still-sleeping Skye. “Wake up! Scotty did it again! He pissed the bed!”

“Scout!” Dustin commanded, his deep voice booming across the campground. “That’s enough! He can’t help it!”

Next to him, Mahal harrumphed indignantly. “That’s it! I give up!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “We’re marching up to that spring after breakfast and you’re diving in! If I’m gonna be the ‘Poppy’ to three little brats, you’re gonna be my big, gay daddy.”

***

“Here,” Mahal ordered, thrusting a wadded up piece of fabric into his hand. “I don’t know where these came from but they’re clearly yours.”

Keeping one hand on the sleeping bag still wrapped around his midsection, Dustin held out the piece of fabric and let it unfurl. It was a pair of men’s underpants, size medium. His eyes widened when he understood how Mahal knew the underwear belonged to him: The pouch was super-sized, built to contain a monstrous package like his own. “B-Y-G,” he read aloud from the label on the waistband. “Yeah, these are mine alright.”

Mahal rolled his eyes and turned back to rummaging through the backpack on the tailgate of the old Ford Bronco. Behind them, Scully–Er, Scotty! Dustin corrected himself. His name is Scotty!–sniffled impatiently.

“Hold on, bud,” Dustin soothed. “Lemme get dressed and then we’ll get ya cleaned up.”

Mahal handed him a pair of shorts and a tank top before pulling out another backpack and extracting larger-sized clothing that was clearly meant to fit his wider frame. Together, the two men executed a complex balancing act as they kept their private parts shielded from view while getting dressed. It took a while and both were sweaty from the effort but finally they were decently clothed.

Well, mostly.

There really wasn’t much that Dustin could do to hide the prominent bulge in his shorts. Even though the cargos were tailored for a well-endowed man and Dustin did his best to shove his swollen equipment deep into the crotch, he flushed when he looked down at himself, breathing, “Jesus.”

Beside him, Mahal was unsympathetic. “Ya wanted to be a hung top, didn’t ya? Well, ya got yer wish. Enjoy!”

With that, he marched off to serve breakfast to Scout and Skye who were proclaiming their hunger at the tops of their lungs.

Dustin watched him go, mouth hanging open. He shook himself a moment later when Scotty hollered, “Daddy, Daddy! Pick me up! Pick me up!”

“Ok, bud,” he said, crouching down to scoop his littlest son into his arms and planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Daddy’s gotcha. Now let’s go.”

***

After grabbing their towels and toiletry bag from the back of the car, Dustin carried Scotty to the showers where he deposited him on the cement floor and pointed to a nearby stall. “Go in there and wash off. And take this soap,” he ordered. Scotty took the proffered soap, looking down at it uncertainly. “Go on,” Dustin urged. “You’re a big boy now. You can get undressed and clean yourself on yer own.” When Scotty balked, he pointed behind him, saying, “Daddy’s just gonna be over there in that stall. See?”

Not waiting for Scotty’s reply, he turned and stepped into his chosen stall, carefully closing the door behind him for privacy. He waited for the telltale trickling of water from across the room, indicating that Scotty had turned on his shower, before turning the spigot of his own shower. The water was solar-heated and only tepidly warm at that early morning hour and he shivered, reluctant to strip naked. As it warmed, though, he was finally tempted and carefully removed his clothing. He smiled with pride as he beheld his beautifully tatted chest and arms, replete with rigid muscles. And then there was his narrow, toned waist. (I’m fuckin’ ripped!) His smile deepened, gaze inevitably drawn down toward his protruding bulge.

Still unable to believe how big he was, he giddily shimmied out of his underwear, a thrill running up his spine when his cock and enormous balls flopped out. Even flaccid, his dick was still huge, dangling past his knees. He admired the artistry of the tattooist who had turned his beloved schlong into a serpentine masterpiece. Reaching down, he pulled on it, unconsciously clenching his buttocks with delight and moaning. His cock was so sensitive! So big and so sensitive! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

It didn’t take long for him to get aroused and soon his cock had grown long enough to slap languidly against his ankles. Christ, he loved his beautiful cock! He couldn’t get enough of it! Mahal was in for a real treat later! Ha! He’d make sure Mahal would never walk the same after he was done with him!

Smirking, he stepped into the spray and savored the sensation of water sliding down the incredible length of his trouser snake. It was the most delirious, delicious feeling in the world! He was a big man. A big, studly man. With a huge cock! What would be better?

Ungh.

He was so carried away that he almost didn’t hear the creaking of the door behind him. Just in time, though, he whirled, grabbing his towel and throwing it in front of him. He was glad that the towel was so long because it was just big enough to hide his monstrous cock.

“Scotty!” he yelled. “Daddy’s showering!”

Standing frozen at the door to Dustin’s shower, Scotty was staring at him with saucer eyes. As Dustin watched with angry surprise, the boy’s gaze traveled the length of his father’s towering, muscular body before dropping down to do the same with his own much shorter, smaller form. He froze, lower lip quivering, when his eyes landed on his little penis.

“W-W-W-What happened to meeee?” he wailed, eyes locked on his tiny peanut. “W-W-W-What did ya do to meeeeee?”

Dustin’s brow furrowed. (What is up with everyone this morning? First Mahal and now Scotty! Must’ve been something they ate last night.) Taking a deep breath, he fought to keep his tone even as he queried, “Whaddaya mean, little buddy? I didn’t do anything to you. You wet the bed, remember?” While he waited for the boy to reply, he tried to wrap the towel around his waist. He gave up, though, when he realized that the only way he could keep his dick covered was by draping the towel lengthwise in front of him.

Scotty shook his head furiously, shrilling, “No! No! No! Not that! I-I-I used ta be BIG! I used to be yer big brother!”

Dustin stared at him, the hair standing up on the back of his neck. This was too creepy! “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout, Scotty?” he demanded. “I’m your daddy, not your brother.”

“Scully!” Scotty corrected him. “My name’s Scully!”

Dustin shook his head, confusion growing. He started to take a step toward Scotty but the boy backed away from him fearfully. “Scotty,” he cajoled, “C’mon, buddy! Did you have a bad dream or something’? It’s me! Your daddy!”

“Yer not my daddy!” the boy protested, taking another step backward. “Yer my little brother! I am the big one. I am the man! Not you! Yer just a little, stupid faggot!”

“SCOTTY!” Dustin roared, forgetting all sense of modesty as he dropped the towel and lunged at his little son. “THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU’RE A BAD BOY!”

He wasn’t quite fast enough. Scotty dodged away from him and, darting out of the shower stall, turned tail and ran across the room. In his haste, though, he forgot about the wet floor and slipped. Windmilling his little arms, he tumbled backward and landed on his butt and elbows. Dustin emerged from the stall in time to witness his son’s fall. His heart twisted as Scotty’s agonized screaming echoed through the cavernous shower room.

“Hey, hey, hey! Easy!” he soothed, closing the distance between them in two, great steps. He bent down and scooped up Scotty in his arms. Blood oozed from the fresh abrasions on his elbows and tears welled up in his eyes as he buried his head into Dustin’s chest, sobbing pitifully. Dustin squeezed him reassuringly, murmuring, “It’s Ok. You’ll be Ok. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Scotty turned and looked up at him with a serious, almost adult expression before scrunching up his face and burrowing into Dustin’s side again, his little body shaking miserably.

***

“Will I be big like you someday, Daddy?”

Dustin smiled, looking up from wrapping bandages around Scotty’s elbows. “Sure, Scotty,” he murmured. “Sure.” He was just glad the kid was acting normally again after that bizarre episode in the shower. He had never seen his son behave like that before; it was unnerving.

“I mean really big,” the boy clarified. “I wanna big pee-pee like yers!”

Dustin froze, eyebrows shooting upward. “Don’t talk about that, Scotty,” he muttered uncomfortably, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “It’s not polite.”

The boy shifted on the stool where he was sitting while Dustin squatted down beside him, bandages in hand. Dustin was suddenly grateful that they were both clothed again and that a towel covered his lap, hiding his monstrous bulge from Scotty’s view.

“I mean it, Daddy!” Scotty pressed, unwilling to let the subject go. “Will I be as big as you are?”

Dustin paused, throat moving up and down uncomfortably as he debated how to respond. Finally, he made up his mind and, looking his son squarely in the eyes, said truthfully, “No, Scotty. You won’t. You won’t ever be big like me. You have a condition that affects your penis.”

Scotty blinked up at him in confusion, repeating, “C-C-Con-di-shun? W-W-Wha does that mean?”

Dustin exhaled, giving his son reassuring smile. “It’s called a ‘micro penis’, Scotty. It means your penis will always be small. It is possible, though, that the doctors will be able to fix it someday. It will never be normal-sized, though.”

Scotty absorbed this information in silence. As the silence stretched, Dustin resumed wrapping his wounds, wondering if he’d done the right thing telling his son the truth. It was something that Scotty had to know someday, though. Wasn’t it better to tell him now so he could come to terms with it? He shook his head, wishing that Mahal was there. Mahal always knew the right thing to say!

When he looked back at Scotty, his heart sank. Tears were running down his puffy cheeks and he refused to make eye contact with Dustin. And then the keening started, the high-pitched sound building deep in his little chest and growing in volume until Scotty was crying at the top of his voice.

“I WANNA BIG PEE-PEE!” he cried. “I GOTTA HAVE A BIG PEE-PEE! I WANNA BE BIG! I WANNA BE A BIG MAN WITH A BIG PEE-PEE!”

Dustin let him cry like that for a while, realizing that such an expression of grief and outrage was perfectly normal and justified after hearing such devastating news. After a time, though, he stopped the boy, hugging him against his chest as he soothed, “Scotty, c’mon. A big penis is great and all but it is not what makes you a man.”

Scotty stopped crying long enough to look up at him questioningly. “Huh?”

Dustin smiled. “It’s true. You can be the tallest guy with the biggest muscles and biggest penis and still be a total loser. It’s not the size of your penis that makes the man, it’s the size of your heart.”

***

“You sure you want to do this?” Mahal asked, watching him with crossed arms.

Dustin was gazing into the crystal clear waters of the pool, feet on the rocky ledge. He could have sworn he’d never been here before and yet something about the place seemed familiar. Out of sight down the hill, he could hear the boys playing hide and seek in the forest. 

Mahal had given them stern instructions to leave Daddy and Poppy alone; even drawing a line in the pine needles. ‘You are not to cross this until we tell you, Ok?’ he’d warned. Scotty and Skye had nodded but Scout had lifted his head and given his dads a knowing look. As the oldest and closest to puberty, he was beginning to understand the secret code his parents used when they wanted some alone time. ‘Don’t worry, Poppy,’ he’d replied, giving them a wink. ‘We’ll stay away. Have fun!’ With that, the trio had scampered off, leaving Mahal shaking his head behind them.

“Well?” Mahal prompted, bringing Dustin back to the present. “You don’t have to do this. We could make the boys jump in here instead and then you and I could head down to the sulfur springs. As unbelievable as it is, the two springs seem to have opposite effects.”

“This will really make me older?” Dustin asked, still staring down at the water. It looked so inviting! And deep.

“Yep,” came Mahal’s gruff reply. “It’s like a fuckin’ ‘Fountain of Youth’ in reverse!”

“Weird.”

“I know, right?” Mahal murmured, joining him to stare contemplatively into the still waters. He was careful, though, not to let his toes touch the water. After a few moments, he looked up at Dustin, saying, “I’m serious, though. We could go back to the way we were. You could be a skinny fourteen-year-old again. And Scotty could be your older brother.”

“My brother?” Dustin couldn’t imagine such a thing. There’s no way his littlest son could possibly be his brother!

Mahal snorted. “Yeah, and what an asshole he was, too! Shit, maybe I don’t want to go back to that after all.” He looked down at his big body, covered in hair and muscles, and smiled. “Maybe it was worth losing ten years of my life? I dunno…”

“I’m ready.”

Mahal gave a start. “Are you certain?”

Dustin nodded. “I’m sure. I want you as my husband, Mahal, and I would do anything for you. Aging a decade is nothing if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He didn’t need to look over to know that Mahal was blinking back tears. “Dustin,” he choked, his voice thick. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Mahal.”

With that, he jumped in.

***

The icy cold water enveloped him, sending a million little shocks through every part of his body. It was almost electric and he broke the surface, whipping his head back and letting loose with a loud whoop. Christ, he felt so alive!

He skimmed quickly across the surface back to the rocky ledge and pulled himself up out of the water. He stood there, steaming rising off of his naked body in the sunlight.

“Did it work? Am I older?” he rumbled, coughing.

When Mahal didn’t answer, he turned to him, repeating, “Well?”

In wordless answer, Mahal pulled his tank top over his head and tossed it aside. Then he unfastened his belt and bent over, letting his shorts slide to the ground. Finally, while Dustin’s eyes widened eagerly, he yanked down his boxers. He straightened again, holding his arms out wide, proudly naked and aroused. His stout, little cock with its huge head was rigid and dripping. 

Mahal’s beautiful, almond-shaped eyes sparkled as Dustin devoured him with his gaze. He was the epitome of stocky male perfection with massive legs, a generous belly, and wide shoulders. Every inch of him seemed to be covered with dense, black hair. And nowhere was this more apparent than on his face and on his crotch; his thick beard was trimmed neatly but his pubes were an untamed forest. Just the way Dustin wanted it.

Giving him a sly wink, Mahal lowered his arms and turned, folding down onto his knees. While Dustin’s mouth watered in feverish expectation, he fell forward, catching himself on his hands and looking coyly over his shoulder. With exaggerated slowness, he pushed backward.

Dustin goggled.

That ass!

That huge, hairy ass!

God, it was divine!

It was delicious!

It was…

At that moment, Mahal’s giant ass cheeks separated as he continued to shove his butt up and back. And then…

And then…

And then…

The moment Dustin had waited a lifetime for had finally arrived.

Mahal’s tender, surprisingly nubile and pink hole popped out. Nestled in a thicket of black hair, it shone like a beacon, a target, a heavenly destination. The invitation could not have been plainer had it arrived on stenciled, gold-leafed paper.

Mahal was offering his world, his life, his body, and his soul to Dustin.

On fire with delight, Dustin pawed the ground with his foot and did a surprisingly good imitation of a stallion’s whinny, tossing his head in the air and shaking his head, spraying water in every direction.

He lowered his head and charged.

Before he could take Mahal from behind, though, his husband stopped him. Grabbing something from the grass, he tossed it back to Dustin who caught it without thinking. “Drench yourself with that first, babe!”

Dustin looked down at the object in his hand, smirking when he saw it was a bottle of lube.

He popped the top and was preparing to drizzle it over his monster when he stopped, looking down at his body in surprise.

“Holy fuck!” he boomed. “Look at me!”

He barely recognized himself.

He was HUGE!

Gone were his slim hips and ridges of abdominal muscles. They’d disappeared from view completely, replaced by a burgeoning belly that rivaled Mahal’s in size.

His arms and legs had exploded with new muscles…and padding, distorting his fading tattoos.

And hair.

He had lots and lots and lots of hair!

Everywhere!

He was fucking fur beast!

And his skin.

Tanned extra dark, his skin was noticeably weathered, the skin of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. 

His cock was the only part of him that didn’t seem to have changed much. Or maybe it had? He squinted, examining it closely. It was hanging noticeably heavier and lower between his mammoth legs, suffering from the inevitable effects of gravity. Likewise, his giant, hairy balls now swung past his knees. Breathlessly, he set aside the lube and reached down with both hands to grip his pole, massaging it. He was a little disappointed by how long it took to get hard. It used to stand up instantaneously on its own accord! No longer. His proud anaconda was looking a bit on the bloated side, still impressive but also kind of freakish now that age was taking its toll.

But he was only 34 year old!

Thirty-four was still young! 

Well, youngish, anyway!

“Hey, babe,” Mahal prompted, still on his hands and knees with his ass thrust backward, waiting for him. “What’s wrong?”

Dustin tore his gaze away from his body, transformed by age, and was immediately captivated once again by that tantalizing ass. Roaring to life in his hands, his anaconda reared its colossal head and he bellowed with triumph. He scooped up the lube and squirted it liberally over his beast and then lowered himself behind Mahal.

“You ready, stud?”

Mahal laughed. “Just take it easy, Ok?”

Dustin did. He sort of didn’t have a choice. His cock was temperamental and he had to work to keep his erection hard. Fortunately, Mahal was not only a skilled lover, he was also patient. He pushed Dustin on his back and straddled him. Together, they took their time, working together to slowly ease Dustin’s hulking beast into Mahal’s hole. Tears of happiness filled Dustin’s eyes when he slipped inside at last.

The warmth.

The tightness.

The delicious friction as Mahal gently pushed himself up and down over Dustin.

It was the most amazing feeling in the world and he was so glad he’d waited for it.

Twenty years and two hundred pounds?

Totally worth it!

He’d give another twenty and two hundred more for this taste of this oneness, this exquisite union, this excruciatingly divine bliss of being inside Mahal.

After an hour of thrusting, moaning, kissing, writhing, and laughing, Dustin came inside his husband’s now vacuous hole. Mahal folded himself into his arms as Dustin whimpered in release, cock pulsing with waves of orgasm. They lay together for a long time before Dustin returned the favor, treating Mahal to a long and languorous blowjob that left the big stud gasping.

Lying on their backs on the forest floor, listening to the distant whoops and yelps of their cavorting children, the two lovers smiled. The pathway that had led them to this point was twisted and more than a little bizarre but it had ultimately succeeded in rewarding them both.

They were happy.

They were truly happy.

***

Epilogue

When they arrived back at the parking lot, they discovered a hulking, black Ford F-150 pickup truck had taken the place of the old Bronco. The driver’s side door had been stenciled with a sign that read, ‘Dustin Scully, Arborist.’

Mahal regarded it with amusement, shaking his head. “Guess it’s done now, huh?”

Dustin looked over, holding open the rear door while the boys clambered inside. “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout, Darlin’?”

“Our past,” Mahal mused. “It’s been completely rewritten.”

“Whatever ya say, Darlin’,” Dustin rumbled, shrugging his massive shoulders as he hauled himself up into the driver’s seat. He sighed with relief as he settled his overgrown package into the special furrow cut into the seat. Without that modification, he wouldn’t have enough room for his legs! Looking over to Mahal, he asked, “Ya ready?”

Mahal smiled up at him, nodding. “Yep, we’re all packed up. This vacation really flew past! I could use another week alone with you.”

“What about me?” Skye called out from the back seat.

“And me!” Scout added.

“And MEEEEE!” Scotty whined, the top of his little head barely visible in the rearview mirror.

Dustin and Mahal laughed.

“We’d never leave you guys behind,” Mahal teased, settling into the passenger seat beside Dustin. “You’re our precious little angels!”

“Seriously, though,” Dustin said, turning to the handsome man he was blessed to call his husband. “If ya wanna take another week, let’s do it! Yer brother can hold down the business til we get back.”

This was greeted by a chorus of cheers from the back seat as the boys screamed, “Yes! Yes! YES!”

Mahal smiled back at him, eyes dancing. (Dustin’s heart melted a little every time Mahal smiled at him like that.) “Really?” he queried. “You sure?”

“Fuck, yeah!” came Dustin’s enthusiastic response. “Let’s do it!”

“Ok,” Mahal agreed, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a topographical map. “But, if we’re gonna stay, I wanna check out this area right here.” He held his finger over a particularly rugged area. “It’s a three-hour drive but the hot springs are ‘sposed to be amazing!”

“Sounds good to me,” Dustin said, starting the truck and backing out of their parking space. “Let’s do it!”

“YIPPEE!” Scotty chirped from the backseat, pulling himself up behind Dustin. “Daddy,” he asked, putting his little hands on Dustin’s corded shoulders. “Can I give you a back rub? Can I? Huh?”

Dustin smiled, leaning backward. “Sure, little buddy! Go right ahead.”

God, he loved his family!

***

They stopped after an hour so Scout and Skye could take a pee. Mahal and Dustin waited patiently while Scotty amused himself in the back seat. Dustin couldn’t keep his eyes off of Mahal and finally reached over and worked his big, calloused inside his lover’s shorts. Mahal shot him a warning look, glancing behind them to make sure Scotty couldn’t see, but didn’t resist when Dustin slid his fingers in deeper, finally scoring access to his (already throbbing) cock.

“Ungh,” Mahal moaned, batting his eyelashes at Dustin. “I have the best daddy in the whole world!”

“Darn right!” Dustin growled. “Just wait til I get ya alone in my tent tonight!”

Mahal shivered and was about to reply when the boys returned and Dustin hurriedly yanked his hand away. He was waiting for them to close the doors when Scout cried, “Scotty! What are you doing?”

In unison, Mahal and Dustin turned, their eyebrows shooting upward. “Christ!” Dustin exclaimed. “What the hell, Scotty?”

Their youngest son looked up at them innocently with his light hazel eyes. There were colorful marking pens scattered around him on the back seat. He had peeled off his shirt and drawn clumsy designs all over his skinny arms and narrow chest. As they stared, he popped the cap off a red marker and lifted it to his chest.

“These are ‘toos just like Daddy’s,” he explained, as if it were patently obvious. “I’m gonna be just like Daddy when I grow up. I’m gonna be big and tall just like Daddy. And I’m gonna have the biggest muscles just like Daddy! But most of all I’m gonna have the biggest–”

“Oh, god, here it comes,” Mahal drawled, looking over at Dustin and his bulging crotch reproachfully. “I hope you’re proud of yours–”

“–the biggest heart,” Scotty concluded, holding the red pen to his chest and drawing a big, red heart-shaped design over his smooth, bony sternum.

“That’s my boy!” Dustin sighed, reaching back to pat Scotty on the head. “That’s my boy!”

***