Chapter 1

Davis Baxter woke up with a splitting headache and a sore ass. Of the two, the hangover was expected. He’d been out late celebrating with his teammates after winning the college hockey championship. It was the first time in the university’s history that the hockey team had won and a little carousing (well, Ok, a lot!) was to be expected.

What didn’t make sense was the throbbing ache emanating from deep within his buttocks.

He groaned and shifted in bed. Jesus, had he pulled a muscle or something during the game? It wasn’t unusual for him to discover injuries after the adrenalin of competition wore off but he’d never experienced an ache this bad before.

He was lying on his belly with his face plastered against the mattress. His skin felt sticky and he thought he smelled vomit. Christ, the throbbing in his head and butt was almost unbearable! He groaned again and tried to turn over onto his side but a massive weight prevented him from doing so. A massive weight and a massive pain! Fuck, why was his ass killing him? And what the fuck was lying on top of him? It wasn’t a person–Heh, he’d remember that! –but if someone wasn’t lying on him then what…?

Suddenly panicking, Davis tried to move again, this time putting all of his might into rolling over onto his side. He cried out in agony as he did so but was successful in dislodging the heavy weight holding him down and flopped heavily over to his side.

Thank god! he thought. Now I just need some fuckin’ painkillers!

Opening his eyes, he looked around the room. At least he was at home in his frat house. The place smelled like stale beer and body odor, but no worse than usual. His roommate, Carver MacDougal, was asleep on the floor next to his bed, mouth wide open; a cavernous snoring rumbled deep within his barrel chest. Carver was notorious for his snoring. It was the reason he and Davis were roommates; none of the other guys in their frat could stand the sound. For some reason, though, it didn’t bother Davis because he could sleep through anything.

Davis’ brow furrowed as snippets of the previous night’s exploits surfaced in his memory. There was the bar crawl and then the party at the sorority where he’d met that bewitching young vixen. His modest-sized dick plumped up at the memory. Man, was she hot! Wearing nothing but a lacey bra and panties, she’d invited him into her room and then they’d…

His cheeks colored as he remembered.

She’d been a kinky little bitch, into all sorts of naughty stuff, and had talked him into going to a fetish club after they’d fucked their brains out. Normally, Davis wasn’t into kinky shit but he’d been drunk and she’d been so fucking hot. How could he resist?

Ass play.

That’s it.

She’d been way into ass play.

‘Mmmmmm, hockey boys have the best asses,’ she’d purred in his ear as she peeled his jeans off of him. ‘I love a guy with a big butt.’

He’d laughed it off. After all, Hockey players did have big butts and his ass was more sculpted than most. Not overly huge but definitely substantial. He liked the attention it brought him from the ladies. Besides, he needed something to impress them since his cock was so little. Having big muscles, a tight body, and a nice butt definitely helped overcome that limitation!

But then another memory surfaced, one that brought him chills.

“…just for fun, baby. Nothing permanent. Just a little extra…”

Bracing, he struggled to sit up but the weight that had been holding him down was still there, this time in back. It was like he had a boulder or something strapped back there. Panic returning, Davis fought to sit up, fought to free himself from the massive weight holding him glued to the bed. The pain was excruciating and he cried out even as he succeeded in sitting up. The mattress springs squeaked and the bed sagged beneath him as something big and wide flopped over beside him.

What the…?

Then he noticed his thighs.

“FUCKING SHIT!” a voice screamed inside his head and he blanked out for a moment. “No way! No way! NO FUCKIN’ WAY!!!”

He came to in the midst of trying to leap out of bed but was prevented from doing so by the inordinately heavy weight behind him. At another time, it might have been comical watching himself scramble ineffectually, clawing at the mattress, frantically trying to gain the leverage necessary to heave himself upright. He was in no mood for frivolity, though. Not when his…

It was late. He wanted to leave but the girl wouldn’t let him.

‘Just a few more cc’s, baby,’ she cooed from the stool nearby.

He was lying on his stomach with his butt in the air. His bare butt in the air! He struggled to get up but she held him down. It wasn’t difficult because he was so drunk and…high. He vaguely remembered taking some pills she’d handed him back at the fetish club.

Something kept jabbing him in the butt. He could them sticking needles or something in each cheek. And in his thighs. What was it? What was going on? And where was he?

He looked around. They were in a grungy room with peeling paint. A sickly fluorescent light flickered overhead. The air reeked of antiseptic. There were empty chairs nearby with steel tables and strange looking machines. He tried to turn his head but couldn’t because he was being restrained. He cried out and struggled anew but the girl shushed him.

‘Almost there, baby. We’re gonna have so much fun…”

It took him a long time to work up the nerve but Davis finally was brave enough to reach behind him and touch himself…back there. When his fingers touched…what had become of his ass…he wailed in disbelief. Jerking his hand away, he bent over and held his head in his hands, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

What did she do to me? What did she do to me? What did she do to me? What did she do to me?

He was crying like that, feeling the massive new heft of his thighs hang down over the edge of the bed and feeling the alien mass of his profanely amplified ass sagging into the beleaguered mattress behind him, when he heard Carver stir. His roommate snorted awake, propping himself up on his elbows and staring blearily around. When he spotted Davis, a big, goofy smile spread across his face, exposing his missing front teeth. (Carver’s front teeth had been knocked out during a brawl on the ice a year ago and he hadn’t bothered to get them fixed.) Davis panicked, terrified that his roommate would see him like this and he hastily tossed a blanket over his lap, concealing his lower body. He was in luck; Carver was either too hungover or too sleepy to notice.

“S’up, brah?” the dude rumbled in a voice that was deeper than usual, probably due to the incredible volume of alcohol he’d imbibed the night before.

When Davis remained silent, he yawned and stretched theatrically, flexing his powerful arms and opening his mouth to emit a deep, throaty roar. Davis took the opportunity to wipe furiously at his eyes before reaching over to snag a hockey magazine from the bedside table. The last thing he wanted was to engage in conversation with his idiot roommate. Maybe if he ignored him, he would get up and leave? He needed to be alone right now. Alone so he could figure out what the fuck happened to him and how he was going to fix the damage that fucking bitch had done to him and his…his…his… He couldn’t finish the thought and squeezed his eyes shut to prevent a fresh bout of tears.

Oblivious to Davis’ cold shoulder, Carver finished stretching and exclaimed, “Shee-it, brah! Can ya believe we’re the champs! The fuckin’ champs, brah! We won the fuckin’ conference!”

Davis scowled and refused to look up from the magazine. Victory was the furthest thing from his mind right then, especially when he was choking on the bile of humiliation and defeat. When he realized Carver was waiting for his reply, he forced himself to choke out, “Uh, yeah. Really cool, isn’t it?”

Carver staggered to his feet and, wrapping his sheet around his nakedness, lurched over to Davis. He stood there, looking down at him for so long that Davis finally lifted his head and demanded, “What do you want, Carver? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Carver’s puffy face broke into a toothless grin as he parroted Davis’ words, “‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’” He did such a good job of imitating his tone that Davis had to suppress a smile. “I can see yer busy, brah. But not like ya were last night when ya were real busy with that smokin’ hot little piece of pussy!” He paused to whistle before concluding, “The only thing I don’t understand is why yer not pounding that pussy right now. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you even bother coming home last night when you had her waiting for ya?”

Davis pulled a sour face. “I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.”

Carver sighed, idly scratching a hairy armpit. “I ‘spose I should be askin’ myself the same question ‘cuz you weren’t the only lucky fucker last night. I snagged myself a piece of delicious boy pussy and fucked the shit out of him in the back of my pickup.”

“Hey, I don’t wanna hear ‘bout it, Ok?” Davis protested, dropping the magazine and holding up his hands. “Keep yer gay escapades to yerself!”

Carver pretended not to hear him and commenced waxing poetic. “The boy had the biggest ass I’ve ever fucked! And he was into some really kinky shit, too. He took me to this crazy club where the guys were all dressed in–”

“Carver, I said, ‘SHUT UP!’” Davis’ skin prickled at mere the mention of a fetish club. It was too reminiscent of his own experience.

His roommate looked down at him, pushing his lower lip outward in a mock pout. “Awww, brah,” he cooed, preparing to sit down on the bed next to him. “Whatsa matter, huh? C’mon. Make some room for yer lil’ Carvey-Warvey and tell me all about it!”

Davis froze as Carver started to settle down next to him. Belatedly springing into action, he shoved back, desperately attempting to fend his roommate off. He couldn’t risk Carver discovering his–

Too late.

Giggling like a little boy, Carver slapped his hands away and plopped down on the bed next to him. He had started to sling an arm over Davis’ shoulders when his leg pressed down upon a massively bloated thigh. Instantly, he sat up straight and fixed Davis with a shocked stare.

“What the fuck is that, brah?!”

“Nothing!” Davis shouted, pushing Carver away. “Get the fuck out of here! I wanna be alone!”

Carver didn’t budge. Instead, he did something unexpected. Turning to face him, he said in a suddenly sober voice, “No, Davis. Tell me what happened. I’m your friend, remember?” When he reached out and placed his hand on his shoulder, Davis was shocked to find himself sagging into his friend’s grip. Slumping forward, he took his face in his hands and massaged his aching forehead. He was so hungover and so confused! He didn’t know what to do.

“Th-Th-Th-That sorority chick d-d-d-did something to me!” he whined. Tears trickled out of his eyes when Carver made a soft sound of concern and started massaging his shoulder lightly. “She took me somewhere and they…” His voice broke off. He didn’t have the balls to complete the sentence.

Carver was silent for a long time before he finally stirred. Letting his hand slide downward, he gently touched the top of Davis’ ballooning buttocks through the blanket. “She…did this to you?” he asked in a low voice. “She had yer ass injected with fillers?”

Davis looked up at him, repeating, “F-F-Fillers? What’re they?”

Carver nodded solemnly. “It’s…well, let’s just say it’s a thing with some gay guys. They inflate their asses to…” his voice broke off as he took in Davis’ reaction to his words. Shaking his head, he murmured, “I’ve never heard of a chick being into it! I guess everyone’s got their kink, though.”

“She said she liked guys with big butts,” Davis sobbed, unable to stop the tears from rolling down his face. “I didn’t think she would–Oh, Carver, it’s not permanent, is it? I’m not gonna be stuck like this for the rest of my life, am I?”

In answer, Carver put his arm around Davis’ shoulders and pulled him close. Davis wanted to resist–Just because he had a huge ass didn’t mean he was gay!–but his buddy’s furry chest was so warm and inviting that he couldn’t resist the urge to bury his face in it. Carver lowered his chin over the top of his head and let him sob. 

When Davis had cried out his misery, taking one last deep shuddering breath before straightening, Carver said, “Crying helps. Doesn’t it, brah?” 

Davis nodded, accepting the Kleenex his buddy offered him and blowing his nose. When he spoke, his voice sounded reedy and forlorn. “What do I do now?”

Carver sighed and pushed himself off the bed. As Davis stared up at him questioningly, he extended his hand, saying, “Now we get you cleaned up and go to the doctor.”

“WHAT?! NO!”

“Aww, c’mon, brah!” Carver coaxed, motioning with his hand. “Just let yer ol’ buddy handle everything, ‘K? All ya gotta do is stand up and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Davis’ face went pale and he held up his hands, leaning away from his friend and complaining, “No! I won’t let you see me like this!”

In the end, he gave in and allowed Carver to help him off of the bed. He staggered to his feet and would have toppled over if Carver hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him. He cringed as he felt his newly inflated bubble butt slosh from side to side behind him. Between that and the way his giant thighs rubbed against each other, jiggling like twin Jello molds, he nearly collapsed in despair. Somehow, though, he managed to wrap the blanket around himself, draping it so that it covered his lower body from view, and let Carver lead him into the bathroom.

***

“Drop it. Drop the blanket, brah.”

Carver started to put his hands on his hips in defiance but lost his balance and had to grab at the sink to catch himself. “No! Not with you in here!” He pointed at the door. “Get out!”

Carver crossed his beefy arms and shook his head. “No can do, brah. Yer in no shape to shower by yerself. What if ya slip and fall in there? You could end up in the emergency room. You don’t want that, do you?”

Davis lowered his head. “No.”

“Then lemme take off the blanket. It’s time we saw what we’re working with here.”

Davis set his jaw but acquiesced, holding out his arms. He screwed his eyes shut as Carver unfastened the blanket from around his waist. Soon, it was sliding to the floor at his feet and Davis felt a cool breeze caressing his, er, man bits.

Carver was quiet for so long that Davis finally cracked an eyelid to see what was up. His buddy was standing before him, the sheet still wrapped around his middle and an expression of awe etched across his features. His mouth was hanging open but he closed it with a snap when he caught Davis watching him. Davis’ cheeks colored as his friend leaned over and craned his neck, looking behind at his inflated buttocks.

“Geezus, brah!” he exclaimed. “She really did a number on ya, didn’t she? I didn’t think it was possible to–”

“Carver,” Davis warned. “Shut up! Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we get to the doctor, the sooner this fuckin’ nightmare’ll be over!”

Carver straightened, chastened, and reached behind him to turn on the shower. Davis stood with his arms crossed, steadfastly refusing to look down at himself until his friend guided him into the stall. Then he made the mistake of glancing at the mirror across the room and was immediately overcome with horror and grief.

“WHAT THE FUCK!? I’M A FUCKIN’ FREAK!!!!”

It was worse than he’d thought. His butt was beyond big, beyond even giant. It jutted out behind him like an immense shelf…a very saggy shelf because it was so huge that gravity inevitably took its toll and pulled his giant cheeks downward. It looked like he had two bloated bags hanging off of him, like a flesh version of those crazy dresses rich women wore back in the 19th Century. This effect was exaggerated because of the contrast with his thin waist. He possessed a figure those 19th women would have envied, all the more because he achieved his wasp waist without the aid of a corset.

And then there were his thighs.

Not to be outdone by his gargantuan buttocks, his hairy thighs stuck out like massive saddlebags, holding the equivalent of several ripe watermelons. No wonder he was in so much pain! It was incredible that his skin hadn’t burst apart with the gallons of ‘filler’ that had been injected into him. Amazingly, his skin accommodated the glut of gooey shit filling up his lower body, the awful stuff that had turned him into a (barely) walking freak. The effect was disorienting and nausea-inducing, to say nothing of humiliating. 

Unconsciously, he turned to face the mirror and blanched when he saw his cock and balls. Tiny to begin with, his little cocklet appeared downright miniscule now that it was sandwiched between the hulking slabs of beef that were his new thighs. It looked like it was about to be swallowed whole, leaving him with nothing but a crease.

Once again, Carver pulled him back from the brink by guiding him into the warm spray of the shower. Davis stood there, hanging his head and feeling miserable, as his buddy stepped back and started to unfasten the sheet around his waist. Davis was only just beginning to put two and two together–Was Carver planning to join him in the shower???–when he heard his yelp of surprise.

He looked up sharply, demanding, “What? What’s wrong?”

Carver wouldn’t look at him. His head was lowered and he was gazing fixedly at his crotch. He clutched the sheet, strategically covering his genitals. As Davis stared, his friend’s chest flushed a deep crimson. Mystified, he watched as the crimson gradually crept up Carver’s neck, finally reaching his cheeks.

“Carver, tell me what’s wrong?” he pleaded. “Are you Ok?”

His buddy shook himself, glancing up at him briefly before looking away in embarrassment. When he spoke, his voice was thick as if his tongue was stuck in the back of his throat. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to croak, “It looks like yer not the only one who had a wild night last night.”

With that, he carefully lowered the sheet, letting it flutter down around his ankles. 

What the fucking hell? NO WAY! 

Davis jumped, startled and horrified, but try as he might, he couldn’t make himself look away. He goggled at the sight of his friend’s nudity, mind refusing to comprehend what he was seeing. When Carver shimmied his hips, causing the monstrosity dangling between his thighs to sway back and forth, he finally understood that the bloated sausage–fatter than a fucking firehose and longer than a baseball bat–was what had become of his buddy’s manhood.

“I’m just like you, brah,” Carver was saying, still mindlessly swinging his fat monster cock back and forth. “‘Cept instead of my ass, they got to my junk. Fuckin’ shit! Would ya look at that!”

Davis couldn’t stop gaping at it. There was something almost hypnotic about that ridiculously long, fat schlong. The sight of it filled him with both envy and revulsion. On the one hand, there it’s sheer size: Nearly as wide and long as a man’s leg, it was a truly trophy-sized cock! On the other hand, it was grotesque. Carver’s monster resembled an overstuffed sausage. The shaft was cottage-cheesy and blotchy due to the uneven distribution of the filler. And it was heavy! The ridiculous snake sagged down like a defeated python, listless and exhausted.

If Carver was unhappy with his new appendage, he didn’t act like it. In fact, he seemed downright giddy as he wagged his hips, whooping with delight at the way his new anaconda writhed. 

“Look at my balls, brah! I got cojones like a fuckin’ stallion! Fuck, they’re even bigger than a stallion. Bigger than a goddamned bull elephant!”

As Davis gaped, his buddy hefted his firehouse of a cock, lifting it up to reveal a mind-blowing pair of balls. He realized dimly that they must have injected his nutsac with the filler, too. The results were stupendous, making him look like he had twin bowling balls for low hangers. Heavier than his cock, they sagged nearly down to his knees.

“Shee-it! Look at me, brah! I’m the fuckin’ MAN!” Still swinging his hips, he grinned and flexed, hamming it up in the mirror. “I gotta take a selfie and post this on Instagram,” he announced before pausing. “On second thought, make that Twitter. I’m sure those fuckin’ prudes on Insta would report me…”

“Carver! Hey, Carver!” Davis yelled, annoyed. (Why had Carver gotten a huge cock while he’d been cursed with a giant booty? It wasn’t fair!) He crossed his arms and glared. “Can we focus here? I need to get to the doctor!”

Carver froze, casting a sheepish look in his direction. “Uh, sorry, brah. I guess I got carried away…” His voice trailed off as his gaze alit once again on Davis and his crazily enhanced booty. As Davis watched, Carver’s blue eyes flashed and a vulpine grin spread across his face. He took a confident step forward, murmuring, “Oh, hey, turn around, would ya? I wanna get a better look at ya.”

Suddenly uneasy, Davis shrank away, dropping his hands self-consciously over his crotch and turning his butt toward the back of the shower. It was so big, though, that he misjudged and his jutting cheeks slammed into the door, throwing him off balance. He windmilled his arms desperately and would have fallen if–

“Got ya.”

He looked up and found himself lost in Carver’s limpid gaze. As he stared, his buddy lifted his chin and smiled disarmingly. In the back of his mind, Davis realized this was the same expression Carver probably wore when he was on the make and he looked quickly away. He straightened and pushed himself out of those big, strong arms that had saved him from what would have been a very painful fall.

“We need to get going,” he said, hating how hesitant he sounded. He was starting to turn away when it dawned on him that they were naked in the shower together. How the fuck had that happened? Puffing up his chest, he turned back to Carver and tried vainly to make his voice sound deep and authoritative. “And get out of here! You can shower after I’m done!”

Carver’s smile never wavered. “Let’s save some water, brah. ‘Sides, we shower together all the time after practice.”

“That’s different!” Davis protested, hating how much taller Carver was. The big brute towered over him. It made him feel like a shrimp.

“How so?” Carver asked, nonchalantly reaching behind Davis to grab the bottle of shower gel. Squirting some into his palm, he reached up and started rubbing it into Davis’ hair. “Ya got the nicest hair, brah,” he murmured. Then, when Davis tried to pull away, he scolded, “Hey! Stop squirmin’! Geezus, brah! Yer actin’ like such a whiny lil’ bitch.”

“Carver! I’m not–”

“Shhh, brah. Nothin’ to worry about here. Just let yer buddy take care of ya, Ok?” His sudsy hands drifted down to Davis’ shoulders and he carefully spun him around until he was behind him. (This proved to be a very difficult feat of gymnastics given the confining shower stall and the size of Davis’ massive ass.) He clenched his teeth and tried to ignore it every time Carver’s monster sausage slapped against him. He knew it was wrong, he knew that Carver was gaslighting him, but he just didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to make him stop. He let his shoulders fall in resignation as Carver ran his big, calloused hands over his torso, lathering him up.

He drew the line, though, when Carver worked his way down to his giant ass cheeks. Grabbing his hands and moving them away, he shouted, “That’s enough, Carver! I can wash myself!”

“Ok, Ok!” his buddy replied, chuckling. “Suit yerself. Ya sure ya don’t wanna repay the favor and soap up my junk? I don’t think I can reach all the way down–”

He never finished. He found it difficult to speak with Davis’ hands wrapped around his throat.

***

Chapter 2

“I feel ridiculous wearing a skirt.”

Carver exhaled impatiently beside him. “It’s not a fuckin’ skirt, brah. It’s a kilt. The proud MacDougal tartan no less! ‘Sides, it’s the only thing that will fit us now.”

Davis stared down at the sidewalk in embarrassment. He still couldn’t believe he’d let his friend talk him into wearing a kilt in public! It would have been bad enough under normal circumstances but with his thighs and ass threatening to start an earthquake each time he took a step, it was beyond humiliating. The green and red kilt was barely big enough to cover his giant bottom. Certainly, it did nothing to conceal his freakishness; every pedestrian he waddled past stopped to stare at him.

And Carver wasn’t in much better shape.

His unbelievably augmented manhood hung down past his knees, requiring him to pull his kilt down so far his ass was hanging out the back. Even so, the tumescent head of his bloated anaconda still bobbed about, greeting the world with its one-eyed, sideways stare. Davis jerked his head away when he caught sight of it again. This was fucking ridiculous!

“Hey, dude!” a deep voice called out. “Yer girlfriend’s hot! Think she’ll lift her skirt and lemme at that phat ass?”

He looked over his shoulder and stared daggers at the beefy frat bro behind them. It was Dane Harvey, a member of a rival fraternity. Dane played on the football team and thought he was the biggest man on campus. He was partially right in that, Davis thought sourly; he was certainly the biggest douche on campus.

Davis was opening his mouth to shout an obscenity when Carver dropped his hand down to Davis’ booty and, to his undying embarrassment, lifted the kilt to expose his massive, hairy globes for Dane’s inspection. “Boo-yah,” he growled. “Her angel food cakes are mine!”

Present with those monstrous, sagging globes, Dane blanched and scurried away even as Davis swatted his buddy’s hand away, hissing, “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Carver was undeterred and clapped his meaty paw back over Davis’ bottom, crowing loudly to anyone within earshot, “Look, y’all! I know yer jealous I got a girlfriend with such a thicc booty but ya can’t have her! She’s MINE!”

It was Saturday morning and the campus was mostly deserted but even so Davis was keenly aware of several pairs of eyeballs swiveling in their direction. Furious, he confronted Carver, standing up on his tiptoes to get in his face and threatening to disembowel him if he so much as placed a finger on him again.

Carver watched him, blue eyes dancing with merriment as he very calmly and deliberately lifted a finger and placed it on the tip of Davis’ nose, drawling, “Yer so cute when ya get all pissy with me, brah.” With that, he tweaked his nose and stepped around him, brazenly replacing his hand on Davis’ bottom and urging him onward. To his utter confusion, Davis obeyed and soon he found himself walking along beside him, hefty buttocks swaying from side to side. Carver’s hand burned like a brand through the woolen kilt onto his sweaty ass beneath.

***

The health clinic was mostly deserted when they arrived with only a few students filling the chairs in the waiting room. If he hadn’t been so distraught, Davis would have been bothered by the stares they received when they waltzed in. Carver hadn’t removed his hand from his butt the whole way to the clinic. Even weirder, Davis had given up resisting and had allowed his friend to keep touching him like…like he belonged to him. Like Davis was his…

“Can I help you?”

He looked up to discover they were standing at the window to the reception desk. An older woman sat behind the glass, holding a pen poised over a crossword puzzle. She looked annoyed at the interruption.

Carver took charge, announcing in a booming voice that made Davis cringe, “We gotta see a doctor, ma’am. Something happened to me and my friend here.”

“Something happened…” the woman began, tapping her pen against the desk. “Can you be more specific?”

Davis looked up to see Carver’s lips curl into a wolfish smile and a wave of sick premonition washed over him. He opened his mouth to warn, “Carver, don’t–” but he was too late. He could only watch helplessly as his friend raised his kilt, exposing the grotesquely inflated organ dangling between his muscular thighs.

Carver thrust his hips forward as he stared proudly down at his swollen manhood, asking, “Is this specific enough?”

***

The waiting room cleared out quickly after they came in and took their seats. Davis barely noticed, though; he was in such a state of shock and humiliation. The whole morning was surreal. His mind had worn itself out grappling to make sense of his predicament. And then there was Carver and his mutant cock…and the strangely possessive way he was behaving. It was confusing, befuddling, and overwhelming. The wild orgy of celebration–State Hockey Champs! Sexy girls throwing themselves at him!–from the night before seemed like a million years ago. It was like that life belonged to someone else and he’d awoken into a nightmarish new reality. He was a different man now, if you could even still call him a man.

He looked askance at the chairs, realizing with bleak resignation that they were too small for his vastly expanded ass. There was no way he could fit between the arm rests! He sighed and was preparing to lean against the wall when Carver pushed a stool over to him and motioned for him to take a seat. Davis sank down, cheeks coloring when he felt his huge bottom sag over the cushion. He hung his head. Even the simple act of sitting down was a fresh exercise in humiliation!

He sat there, stewing in his misery until a movement caught his eye. He looked up to see that Carver had taken a seat directly across the room from him. His friend was sitting there with his leg spread wide, allowing his monster cock to hang out in front of him. It was so distended that his huge cockhead nearly dragged on the carpeting. As Davis stared, Carver winked and his cock bobbed before him.

“Look, brah,” he whispered. “I can still get hard!”

It was true.

Davis watched with uneasy fascination as that hideous beast gradually swelled even bigger. The long sleeve of Carver’s slack foreskin shrank backward even as his glans engorged, growing round and plump and shiny as a king-sized apple. He only forced his attention away when the firehose grew sufficiently firm to rise up off the floor. He cleared his throat, cheeks aflame, and wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. The last thing he wanted was to see Carver’s ugly erection!

“Pssst! Yer turn! Show me yer cunt!”

Davis blushed furiously, looking away and closing his eyes. He couldn’t resist for long, though. A moment later, he cracked an eyelid and flushed deep red when he saw the burning look of desire written so plainly across Carver’s face that you’d have to be an idiot not to recognize it. Well, he might not be an idiot but he was definitely confused. Was this really what he wanted?

But Carver was so handsome!

(Wait! Handsome? He never thought guys were handsome! He wasn’t gay! He wasn’t–)

“Ungh.”

Carver guffawed when that sound of lust escaped Davis’ lips. Davis’ eyes went wide. What was wrong with him? He didn’t find Carver attractive! Not at all! Carver was so…so…so…so…

Fucking studly.

With his thick, brown beard and wide, blue eyes. Those full lips and shaggy hair. That big adam’s apple and strong hands. Hid pumped arms and broad chest. The fur spilling out the top of his t-shirt. His trunklike, hairy thighs. Not to mention his rapidly hardening…

Davis shifted on his stool, feeling his cock come alive. A trickle of precum ran down his thigh. Yes, there was no more denying it: He was turned on and he was hot for a guy. And not just any guy.

Carver.

Carver MacDougal.

Later, he would wonder at himself for being overtaken by such a foolish, risky whim. In a public waiting room, no less! At that moment, though, he didn’t waste time wondering. He acted. With trembling hands, he lowered his vast bulk off the stool and knelt down on the carpet, facing away from Carver. He knelt like that for a long while, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage and his cocklet throb between his meaty thighs. Behind him, he could feel Carver’s eyes burning into him like lasers. 

Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and, taking a deep breath, forever surrendered his heterosexuality by leaning forward and thrusting his bum backward. He was shaking with desire and shame and excitement when he took the fringe of his kilt in hand and peeled it upward, exposing his mountainous buttocks for Carver’s inspection. He pushed back further and moaned as his huge cheeks parted and the cool air brushed against his taint and eager asshole.

Eager for cock, he realized with amazed disbelief.

He was eager for Carver MacDougal’s cock!

***

Carver was behind him, holding him by the hips. He leaned forward. Davis writhed with excited expectation when he felt twin puffs of warm air on his skin. Carver’s face was so close to Davis’ moist cleft that he could almost feel it.

“You really want this, brah?” His buddy’s voice was cocky, self-assured; he was teasing him.

“Yes,” Davis sighed, quivering. “Yes. I want you. And I really want yer cock!”

Behind him, Carver’s eyes flashed. “Ha! Straight boys are always such eager little sluts!”

Somehow Carver managed to lift him up because the next thing Davis knew, he was straddling Carver’s waist, squeezing his torso between his giant thighs. Carver squatted down and thrust upward, hugging Davis tightly. Below and behind, Davis could feel his bare ass hanging out of his kilt…and the blunt club of Carver’s cock pulsing inside his spreading cheeks. He looked down and caught Carver devouring him with his gaze, face suffused with a potent mixture of triumph, lust and arrogance. His blue eyes sparkled and his mouth quirked. He didn’t need to speak; Davis knew exactly what he was thinking.

Davis Baxter was his bitch.

His cockslut.

His whore.

Carver smirked and lifted his chin, teasing Davis’ lips with the hint of a kiss. Davis lowered his mouth and was preparing to welcome his buddy inside when someone cleared his throat. Their heads swiveled to find the doctor standing behind them, a shocked expression on his face.

Carver didn’t miss a beat as he turned and carried Davis past the startled physician. He pushed through the open door, saying over his shoulder, “We’ll be with ya in a few minutes, Doc. Right now, we gotta take care of some urgent business in yer exam room. There’s an overripe cherry I gotta pop.”

***

Carver locked the door behind them and plunked the overwrought Davis down on the exam table. While Davis lay there, breathless and dazed, he rummaged through the drawers of a nearby cabinet for a few moments before pumping a fist in victory.

He held out a tube in front of Davis’ face, explaining, “KY Jelly, brah!”

His kilt was down around his legs in record time and soon he was slathering his mutant pole with a prodigious amount of lube until it shone greasy and pink in the fluorescent light. He then turned to Davis and guided him onto his belly, instructing him to reach back and grab his feet. Davis braced as his buddy drizzled lube into his gaping cleft. His fingers were rough and calloused when he reached inside and massaged the ointment around.

“God, yer tight! This is gonna be so much fun!”

Carver was not gentle with him. He hopped up behind him and forced his bulging thighs apart. Davis gasped in pain, clutching his ankles and trying to spread his cheeks wider. He yelled out in surprise when he felt Carver’s girth-stick drill deep down, easily gaining access to his most private and sacred spot: The forbidden fruit of his heterosexuality, the one place he vowed would never be touched by another man, much less another man’s cock. 

Carver didn’t give him long to ponder this former impossibility, though.

There was white-hot, searing pain and Davis’ eyes rolled back in his head. He opened his mouth and squalled like a stuck heifer as his formerly pert, virgin rosebud of an asshole shredded under that vicious onslaught. And then the pain evaporated and he was riding high in a delirious, pink haze of sweet and salty torment. Carver pounded his manpussy into submission, thrusting his behemoth up to the hilt only to yank it out and slam it into him again. There was an inhuman slapping when his buddy’s thighs collided with his inflated bubbles.

It felt like heaven.

As he drifted away in his sex-induced fog, he realized something critical, a truth that had evaded him until that moment but one that was never far from his mind from that day forward: Taken separately, his buttocks and Carver’s cock were a curse, a scourge that would doom them to a life of ostracism and freakdom. But taken together, those buttocks and that cock were a blessing, the lock and key to divine bliss. For as long as they were together, they were assured of enjoying a pleasure so potent and orgiastic, it made the price they paid for being freaks bearable. Fuck, it was more than bearable; it was a total fuckin’ blast! 

And so it went for over an hour as the hapless doctor pounded angrily on the door to the exam room, his knocking in curious sync with Carver’s thrusts. When it was over and Davis’ insides were indelibly creamed with his buddy’s rich spunk, he lay there gasping on the exam table. He’d climaxed at least five times during the ordeal and the paper beneath him was slippery with cum. Carver lay heavily atop him, breathing in his ear. Their bodies were redolent with sweat and man musk.

When he felt Davis stir, Carver chuckled and pulsed his cock. “Welp, brah, whaddaya say we take this back to the frat? I’m hungry and wanna eat some boy pussy for breakfast.”

Davis was opening his mouth to respond when they heard the sound of keys turning in a lock and looked back to see the campus police burst into the little room.

***

Epilogue

Carver managed to talk their way out of an arrest. While Davis cleaned up at the little sink, his buddy pulled the cops aside and muttered something that Davis didn’t quite catch. Whatever he told them must have been convincing because the two officers let them go without charges.

Davis asked him about it after they left the clinic and Carver smirked, dropping his hand down onto his buttocks as he bragged, “I tole ‘em I’d give ‘em each a free ride on daddy’s pole, brah. Easiest thing ever.”

Davis smiled at this and didn’t complain when Carver’s hand slipped inside his kilt. He couldn’t blame the police officers; he would do anything to ride that magnificent cock again, too!

They walked along in silence, Davis enjoying the simple pleasure of his best bro’s hand on his big, beautiful butt. Gradually, he became aware that Carver was staring at him. When he turned and looked up at him questioningly, his friend shook his head.

“Would ya look at us, brah?” he rumbled. “We got so busy fuckin’ that we totally forgot to see the doctor!”

Davis thought about this for a moment, face breaking into a slow smile. “Yer right, man. And I don’t fuckin’ care anymore. I’d grow my ass twice this size as long as I still got to be yer little cockslut!”

“Hmmm, don’t tempt me,” Carver rejoined. “I think I can find that clinic where ya got yer ass injections. Maybe we could make a followup appointment for tonight?”

***

The frat house was remarkably quiet when they arrived. It was late enough that their brothers should have been up and about, even considering the wild partying from the night before. Davis knew something was terribly wrong when they entered the darkened living room and discovered a bunch of the guys slouched miserably in the various chairs and couches. The big-screen television was turned off. No one said a word. An eerie silence filled the room.

“Hey, guys,” Davis called out. “What’s goin’ on?”

The frat president, Matt, lifted his head and fixed him with a baleful stare before glancing meaningfully downward. Davis followed his gaze and noticed there was a thick blanket wrapped around his midsection. He turned from him to the guys sitting nearby and realized they were similarly wrapped in blankets. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he was overcome by a sick realization. He knew exactly why his frat brothers were so verklempt! 

Carver must have come to the same realization but had a very different reaction. Stepping forward and placing his hands on his hips, he thrust his crotch forward, letting his giant monster cock flop proudly out from beneath the kilt. 

“C’mon, boys! Don’t be shy!” he bellowed, erection already bobbing heavy and full before him. “I got the medicine to cure what ails ya! Crack open those giant peaches and lemme at yer spunky man-cunts!”

***