Part 1

Nelson Abbas was still feeling light-headed a half hour later when Brady Hayes spotted him sitting on a folding chair in the beach sand outside the makeup trailer. He rubbed his temples and winced at the strange ache coming from his butt. Why is my asshole sore? Did I sit on something? he wondered, feeling queasy. He was certain that something profound had just happened but was unable to remember any of it. Gah! Why can’t I remember? I can’t forget it! I know it was really important! Unbelievable even! But try as he might, he drew a blank.

“You Ok, bro?” Brady asked, leaning against the trailer and stretching a calf muscle. It was a gorgeous morning on the beach and the rising sun limned his rippling muscles. Looking up at him, it was easy to see why he’d been approached by Sports Illustrated to be in the latest Body Issue; Brady Hayes was the quintessential American quarterback: Tall, lean, blond and handsome. With sparkling blue eyes, a reddish beard that underscored his fox-like features, an easy smile and confidence that verged on cockiness, everyone wanted to be near him. Even though Nelson was straight, he wasn’t blind–or deaf, for that matter. He could see how the girls (and guys) swooned over his friend when he strode into a room…and he could hear their screams from the stands whenever Brady jogged onto the field.

“Are you still asleep?” Brady prompted when he didn’t reply.

Nelson cracked an eyelid, still feeling a little ill and creeped out by his aching butthole. “Nah, dude, I’m awake. Juss a little sleepy, I guess. You ready to get, uh, ‘dressed’ for your photoshoot?”

Brady nodded, angular face breaking into a grin. “Fuck, yeah! I can’t wait! Let’s go!”

Nelson shook his head, glad it wasn’t him who would be featured in the photo spread. When SI had informed Brady about their plans for the gender-bending issue, Brady hadn’t hesitated. His brother was gay and he liked to support the LGBTQIA+ community. “Plus, I kinda like the attention I get from the gay bros,” he confided to Nelson, flexing provocatively. Nelson rolled his eyes; in addition to being an elite jock, Brady was also a notorious narcissist.

Brady opened the door to the trailer and started to go inside. He hesitated, though, when Nelson remained seated. “Hey, bro?” he called out. “You comin’ in? I’m not doin’ this alone.”

Nelson sighed, pushing his big frame up off the chair and grimacing at the dull throb down there. Brady might be narcissistic but that didn’t mean he wasn’t insecure. When he’d found out that he’d be ‘trapped’ alone and mostly naked in a small trailer with two gay stylists, he’d pleaded, ‘Bro, ya gotta be with me! I can’t do it alone!’ ‘Dude,’ Nelson had complained, ‘why don’t ya have Alyssa tag along instead? She’s yer gf after all.’ Brady’s eyes had narrowed. ‘Trust me, bro,’ he replied. ‘You’ll understand once ya see what they’re gonna do to me. There’re juss some things Alyssa should never see.’ Nelson had wondered what those things might be but Brady forestalled the question, begging, ‘Aw, c’mon, bro! Do it for me! Please!’ Dreading what he was getting himself into, Nelson had reluctantly agreed.

All too soon, he found out what he’d walked into.

Upon entering the little trailer, the stylists told Brady to strip naked and lie down on a padded massage table. While one led Nelson over to a folding chair, Brady pulled off his t-shirt and bent over to yank down his shorts over his tiny, tight ass. He was soon standing before them in all of his lean and sinewy glory. 

Brady’s body was not just lean but also ripped and covered with a liberal coating of fuzzy brown hair. As proud as he was of his physique, though, his pride and joy was his big cock. That fat, uncut sausage dangled over a pair of hairy low-hangers, momentarily rendering the stylists breathless. Nelson wrinkled his nose in distaste; he was used to this show, he’d seen it countless times in the locker room and was sick of Brady rubbing his big cock in everyone’s face. Furthermore, as a Muslim of Iraqi descent, he found the sight of his buddy’s long, slack foreskin distasteful.

There was something else, too. Something he hated to admit: Brady’s big piece made him incredibly envious. Why did he have to win the ‘cock lottery’? he wondered bitterly. It’s not fair that he got the prize and I’m stuck with a tiny pecker! I mean, he’s already got everything a guy could want. He doesn’t need a big dick, too!

Nelson cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked away from Brady as he examined the folding chair. Partly, he wasn’t thrilled to sit down again with his butthole hurting the way it did and partly he wasn’t sure it would hold his massive frame. As a beefy linebacker, he’d destroyed his share of furniture and didn’t want to collapse onto his ass when he sat down. He reached out and rattled the chair and, deciding it was sturdy enough to hold his weight, sat down gingerly.

The ache in his nether region distracted him for a while but all too soon ignoring Brady’s nudity proved to be impossible. His chair was positioned directly behind the massage table and, when Brady lay down upon it and spread his legs, Nelson had the perfect view of his buddy’s furry taint and slightly parted ass cheeks. When Brady repositioned his enormous cock and balls in the gap between his legs, Nelson’s cheeks colored.

“You Ok back there, bro?” he called out, clearly enjoying himself.

Nelson was so busy hating his buddy at that moment that it took him a moment to speak. Finally, he managed to croak, “Now I get why ya didn’t want Alyssa to come along. This is just gross!”

“For you maybe,” one of the stylists replied drily as he leaned over the supine quarterback, applying strips of something sticky to his furry little buns. Moments later, he ripped it off, eliciting a pained yelp from Brady as the wax removed a strip of hair, leaving a patch of pale, smooth skin in its place.

Not one inch of Brady’s hirsute body was spared from the waxing. Nelson nearly crawled out of his chair when the stylist told Brady to spread his legs so he could wax his butthole. Very unwillingly, Nelson was forced to see his buddy’s asshole in all its puckered ‘magnificence’. The stylist seemed to take evil glee out of prolonging this part of the procedure, looking up and grinning at Nelson as he spread Brady’s butt cheeks and exposed that furry manhole. Brady didn’t help, arching his back and pushing out his butt provocatively.

“Like what ya see, bro?” he teased as the stylists giggled.

Nelson wanted to be sick and cursed his friend under his breath. Why the fuck had he allowed Brady to talk him into this?

After more than an hour of torture (for both Nelson and Brady, but for different reasons), the only hair left on the jock’s body was on the top of his head and his eyebrows. When he stepped off of the massage table, Nelson gaped; the transformation was nothing short of stunning. Even Brady couldn’t help gawking down at himself, gyrating his hips to take in his hairlessness from every angle.

“Jesus, bro!” he crowed, proudly pushing out his denuded pubes and cue-ball smooth balls. “I look even bigger now!” He waggled his floppy equipment, provoking more admiring stares from the stylists (and making Nelson swallow bile.)

Nelson started to roll his eyes but froze when the jock turned his back to him. The full view of those newly hairless buttocks and long, sculpted legs, caused him to shift uncomfortably in his chair. (His shoulders are so wide! And his hips are so slim!) As much as he hated to admit it, Brady’s ass was kind of hot. Jesus! It looks bigger than before! Is that just because it’s smooth now? he thought, shifting again. He’d seen plenty of man-ass in the locker room but never one like this.

Now, Nelson loved big butts…on girls, that is. He totally grooved on their shapely softness, so unlike the beefy, furry ones he saw in the showers after practice. Brady’s, however, was something new and he found himself captivated by it. Totally smooth and hairless, it was both muscular and curvaceous.  It jiggled slightly when he walked, making Nelson even more uncomfortable. It was the most bizarre sensation, this unexpectedly alluring view of his friend’s backside. 

With reddening cheeks, he realized he was getting turned on. He gave a start of embarrassment when he glanced down and saw the noticeable bulge in his shorts. He hurriedly shoved his cock between his legs before Brady or the stylists noticed.

It got worse.

Next, the stylists made Brady stand with his feet apart, thighs spread before proceeding to spray on a blemish-reducer. Soon, the naked quarterback’s entire body was a soft, supple pink; his newly bare skin looked tender as an infant’s. Nelson sat there, trying and failing to resist looking at Brady’s parted ass cheeks. He grimaced, feeling his cock throb when he realized something: Brady’s body had changed…or maybe it was just the way he was standing now that made him look different?

Forgetting about everything else, even his throbbing butthole, Nelson covertly examined his buddy’s physique. No, he wasn’t imagining it: Brady was definitely beefier. And it wasn’t just his butt. His waist wasn’t quite as narrow as before; he had filled out markedly around the middle. His shapely legs were now bulkier. And his upper body had filled out, too. His arms were bigger, sticking out more from his sides. Even his chest was wider.

C’mon! Get a hold of yerself, Nelson! he thought, repositioning his still throbbing cock. Yer juss imagining things. There’s no way Brady put on weight in the last couple minutes! Juss ignore him.

His attempt to look away didn’t last, though. His attention was quickly stolen by the reappearance of Brady’s butthole. The jock’s legs were spread so wide that the cleft of his beefy–Is it even beefier than a moment ago?–ass was clearly visible. Now that Brady was hairless, if Nelson leaned in a little, he could catch a glimpse of the dude’s delicate pucker. It was pink and tender, the skin almost glistening. 

The sight of that pucker hidden in cleft the dude’s admittedly big butt drove him crazy for inexplicable reasons. And those butt cheeks were decidedly heavy and full–and getting heavier and fuller all the time. When Brady had first stripped down, he’d had a tiny, pert quarterback’s ass. Now, though–Fuck! It was a lot bigger! It was rapidly approaching linebacker size…if a linebacker shaved his ass, that is.

What the fuck is wrong with me?! I must be seeing things! I’m not gay and Brady’s butt isn’t getting fatter! I’m only turned on because he’s as smooth as a girl. Yeah, that must be it! He’s confusing my hetero brain! His cheeks colored as his cock throbbed yet again, this time painfully. He was forced to release it from its prison between his thighs, sighing as he did so. He placed his hands protectively over his crotch, hiding the growing evidence of his arousal.

When he looked back up at Brady, he nearly choked. The stylist had made the jock turn to the side, giving Nelson a clear view of his profile. Nelson stared in disbelief as the impossible happened:  Brady’s abs began fading away! He blinked. When he reopened his eyes, though, he realized he wasn’t imagining it. 

A little ripple ran down Brady’s taut belly, erasing all evidence of those perfectly etched abdominals and leaving a distinct layer of fat in its place. The same thing happened to his ass, only it was even more pronounced. Nelson gaped as Brady’s perky ass became suddenly less perky, jutting out behind him before settling heavily again. While still bubbly, it could no longer be described as anything close to pert. There were still the ghosts of muscles visible at the top of that big ass but, down below, his new, heftier cheeks were distinctly round and full.

Nelson felt feverish. His mind was spinning and his cock was aching. He dropped his head in his hands and massaged his temples. What the fuck was going on? And why was he the only one who seemed to notice what was happening? The whole while, Brady and the stylists kept up a pleasant banter, completely oblivious to the increasingly obvious changes befalling the formerly svelte jock’s physique.

Paralyzed with indecision, he did nothing. He just sat there, watching Brady’s body engorge with muscle and fat. His shoulders grew even wider and he became obviously barrel-chested. His thighs grew thicker and his quads became massive. His calves doubled, then tripled in size. Curiously, his pecs didn’t inflate much and he remained relatively flat-chested.

He didn’t look like a bodybuilder, Nelson decided. No, this wasn’t the body of a gym bunny. Gym bunnies had over-developed upper bodies but Brady was obviously bottom heavy, almost pear-shaped. His mass was concentrated around his legs and butt, especially that butt! Bodybuilders had massive muscles and lean body mass. That wasn’t Brady! No, even though his arms were beefier and his shoulders wider, his torso wasn’t sculpted at all. His muscles were less defined and more utilitarian…like a linebacker’s.

In the space of ten minutes, Nelson watched Brady transform from a long, lithe runner into a very husky jock who was verging on overweight. He’s now a corn-fed Midwestern farmboy! Nelson thought, realizing it was an apt description. Growing up in the Midwest, he knew the type: Hefty German stock. There was a seemingly endless supply of big-boned blond boys with hulking, powerful bodies and broad, open faces. Their bodies were shaped from laboring on the farm, riding around on tractors all day and gorging on steak and potatoes at night. These were the kind of guys who filled out the defensive line on the football field, not at all suited to be a quarterback who had to be fit and fast and agile.

Nelson gave a start when he realized that Brady’s body now looked a lot like his own. Nelson was a defensive tackle, a wall of muscle clocking in at nearly three hundred pounds and standing over six and half feet tall. Brady was now just as big as he was, albeit with a much bigger ass and quite a bit more padding.

He stared, skin prickling at this incredible transformation and thinking he must be hallucinating. This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening! Why am I the only one who notices?

It got worse.

Nelson’s downfall as a straight man came when the stylists helped Brady into his provocative ‘uniform’ for the photoshoot. This was the heart of this controversial edition of the Body Issue: Dressing traditionally masculine athletes in gender-bending attire. The contrast of big, male bodies clad in skimpy, feminine garments was the point, to make people rethink their ideas about gender and sexual identity when it came to sports.

All that couldn’t have been farther from Nelson’s mind, though. By this point, his focus was one thing and one thing only: Big Brady. He nearly experienced a spontaneous orgasm when they handed this friend the flimsy piece of bright yellow fabric and instructed him to put it on. 

He squinted. What is that? Holy fuck! It’s a thong! Is he really gonna wear a thong?!

He stared, breathless, as the hulking Brady accepted the miniscule garment and bent over, pushing his voluptuous, meaty ass outward. 

He was almost unrecognizable now. His neck had all but disappeared into his shoulders. His modest pecs sat on top of protruding belly. His pink nipples were big, fat and puffy. His gut was both soft and firm at the same time, evidence of the massive musculature under a generous layer of padding. His thighs were truly giant. His calves were nearly as wide as his upper legs.

And he was completely smooth.

Soft skin.

So tender.

So flawless.

The nubile quality of his skin and halo of blond hair made him look really young and yet his body was so bulky that he was obviously a full grown man. It was such a stunning juxtaposition that it left Nelson delirious. He’d long since stopped thinking about his throbbing asshole, pulsing cock and aching balls and given in to the sheer forbidden pleasure of lusting after his friend. 

Brady turned and grinned mischievously at him as he stepped into the ridiculously tiny thong, pulling it with difficulty up his massive thighs and over his big, fat ass. When he straightened, he looked down at himself, a wave of confusion passing across his chubby, boyish face.

Here it comes! Nelson thought. Now he finally sees what he’s become! He braced for the inevitable outburst of horrified shock.

It didn’t come.

Or at least not in the way that Nelson expected.

Settling his package into the pouch of the thong, Brady hopped up and down (a feat that made his massive butt jiggle alluringly.) Puzzled, he pulled on his package, trying to stretch it out. Turning to face Nelson, he complained, “Dude! This thing makes me look so small!”

Small? WTF? Why does he think he looks small? He’s big as an ox! Nelson didn’t understand until he saw what Brady was talking about: His formerly fat salami and engorged nuts looked distinctly boy-sized encased in the tiny triangle of fabric. Maybe it’s because his body is so much bigger? Nelson wondered. Maybe it just makes his package look small? But, no, that wasn’t it. When he studied it, he realized that Brady was right: His cock did look really small.

“Nonsense!” one of the stylists interjected before Nelson could reply. “It’s designed for compression. Don’t worry, hon, you look like a totally hot, big man!”

This seemed to reassure Brady and shrugged his massive shoulders, rumbling, “If ya say so.” Even his voice was different now, Nelson realized. Deeper, slower. Truth be told, it wasn’t an improvement; Brady sounded kind of dumb. 

“Well?” Brady prompted, wiggling his fat butt back and forth. “Whaddaya think, bro? Am I like, uh, gender-bendy enough?”

Nelson gaped. The tiny string bikini really set off Brady’s huge buttocks, drawing even more attention to their incredible size and heft.The thong string rode up his ass crack, disappearing in the deep cleft before emerging again in a whale tail at the top.

“Um,” he stammered, wiping a little rope of drool from the corner of his mouth with one hand while he tried vainly to conceal his tented shorts with the other. “Yeah, I mean, you look good, bro. If ya were a chick, I’d totally bone ya.”

“Hahaha! Good one, bro!” Brady guffawed, sounding like a total dimwit. “Guess that means it’s doin’ what it’s ‘sposed ta!”

Brady’s ensemble was complete when the stylists pulled his mesh football jersey over his head. Nelson blinked, realizing immediately that the jersey had been modified. The colors were the same–bold yellow, black and white–with Brady’s number and last name emblazoned on the front and back. But the length was different; it had been shortened to expose his bulging midriff. Long gone was his tapering waist. He now sported a drooping muffin top and his soft, smooth belly pushed out before him. 

It was a true linebacker’s belly, padded but shapely at the same time, not yet sagging under the weight of gravity as it would soon do if Brady continued to pack on the pounds. When he moved just right, Nelson caught a glimpse of his puffy, pink nipples with their immensely swollen areolas. It was disorienting to say the least.

When they applied eye black beneath his lower eyelids and styled his hair in a boyishly feathered cut, Nelson scarcely recognized his buddy. Brady Hayes was more cute than handsome. Yeah, cute in a bovine sort of way. His face was wider and his cheeks fatter. His blue eyes looked blissfully carefree and were wide-set in his broad, smooth face. Nelson felt dizzy looking at him and rubbed his temples in the vain attempt to calm his rattled nerves. His cock and balls were in agony after such a prolonged period of arousal without release.

“Well?” Brady prompted, clutching a football under one bulky arm and holding out the other to display his big, bloated body. “Do ya like?”

Nelson gave him a lopsided grin. “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, you really look different. I guess they were right about it being a total gender fuck…among other things.”

“Haha! I know, right?” Brady said, winking. He stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, lifting his eyebrows. “I kinda like it.” Even as he said this, Nelson noticed that he was tugging self-consciously on his shrunken package. “Maybe I should wear this to practice everyday?”

Nelson’s ears went red and he cleared his throat, stammering, “I d-d-don’t th-th-think that’s a good idea, bro.”

He was about to say more when one of the stylists interrupted him, saying, “Now it’s your turn, Nelson. Let’s get you ready.”

***

“I’m not taking it off!” Nelson protested, clutching the bathrobe more tightly around his middle.

The stylist sighed. “C’mon, dude. Brady’s gone. It’s just you and me now. And you can trust me: I’ve seen it all in my line of work by now. Didn’t you just watch me wax yer buddy’s asshole?”

“You are not waxing my butthole!” Nelson stated firmly, backing away from the overly eager stylist. In addition to being humiliating, the prospect of doing that to his still-sore pucker was truly alarming.

“Relax,” the dude soothed, reaching out to remove Nelson’s hands from the drawstrings of his robe. “No waxing for you.” He jerked his head over to a pile of gear lying on a nearby chair. “You’re the butch one in the photoshoot. The director wants to keep you hairy.”

Nelson nodded approvingly; the last thing he wanted was to lose his precious body hair, not to mention have some dude wax his hole. “Good but I still don’t like it. I mean, this was ‘sposed to juss be about Brady. I didn’t sign up for anything!”

The stylist pressed his lips together. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll make you look good. Now let’s see what ya got hiding in there.” 

Gritting his teeth and convinced this was a bad idea, Nelson closed his eyes and let his hands fall down to this side, allowing the man to untie the sash. Under the robe, he was just wearing a pair of ratty old boxers that hung down well past his knees.

Seeing the boxers, the stylist tsked under his breath, “Straight bros! Why do they insist on wearing bloomers!”

“Hey! No commentary!” Nelson hissed, annoyed. He was already dreading the inevitable. As soon as the dude saw how tiny his pecker was, he would laugh out loud. Sadly, he wouldn’t be the first person to do so. More than one chick had taken one look at his tiny manhood and lost it in a fit of hysterical laughter. Dreading the inevitable, Nelson reluctantly let the robe fall to the floor and allowed the man to tug down his boxers.

Silence.

When the silence stretched for too long, Nelson cracked an eyelid, prompting, “Well? What’s wrong? Never seen a dick like mine before?”

The stylist’s mouth was hanging open. He shook himself, stammering, “N-N-N-No, actually I haven’t. It’s…it’s…Fuck! Now that’s a cock!”

“Har har har,” Nelson muttered. “You don’t have to tease me. I already know how small I am. ‘Big muscles and a tiny dick.’ That’s me all the way. Just get over it and cover me up.”

The stylist straightened and, setting his jaw, took Nelson by the shoulders and forcibly turned him toward the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. “Tiny? You?” he demanded. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? That’s a world-class cock you got there, bro!”

Nelson started to bridle; he hated being teased about his small pecker. But when he looked in the mirror, his jaw hit the floor. “HOLY FUCK!” he shouted. “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DICK???”

The monster dangling nearly down to his knees had to be prosthetic; there was no way a guy’s cock could be that huge. The only penis he’d seen that could compare belonged to the bull he’d watched mating with a heifer at the county fair as a boy. The behemoth was so big that it was heavy. Heavy enough to make his legs bow out.

And his balls!

Holy shit, they were huge! And even heavier than his cock! Bigger than a pair of softballs, they slapped his thighs in their stretched-out sack. 

It was official: He was hung like fuckin’ bull!

There was just one thing that made his stomach curdle: He’d mysteriously regrown a part of him that had been removed when he was child. There was now a huge, slack, dark brown foreskin lolling down off his new bulbous cockhead. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose and wondering about the foul odor filling the air. It smelled like ripe mushrooms. Only later would he learn what it was: The scent of smegma emanating from his uncut dick. That huge, moist foreskin was a fertile breeding ground for all sorts of odor-producing bacteria. It was disgusting! What the fuck?! he thought with revulsion. I hate it! Fucking hate it!

He’d been so preoccupied with Brady’s transformation that he hadn’t noticed his own. But now that he thought about it, he realized that something had felt off…down there…for a while and it wasn’t just his mysteriously aching butthole. It had been subtle at first but his shorts had grown increasingly tighter and his package had slowly begun to ache furiously the longer he sat there watching Brady. At the time, he’d blamed it on blue balls but now he realized the torture was partially due to the fact his shorts were crushing his enormous man meat like a vise.

It was too much for his brain to handle and he felt dizzy. He would have staggered if the stylist hadn’t caught and steadied him. “Easy, dude,” the guy soothed. “It’ll be Ok. I’ll figure out how to dress you somehow.” He paused, putting his finger to his chin for a moment, pondering. After a while, he shook himself and looked up at Nelson brightly. “Actually, this is even better. The director’s gonna be thrilled when he sees you!”

Nelson barely heard him. He was too busy noticing his other changes. All traces of fat had melted away from his body, leaving only absurdly bulging muscles clearly outlined against his mocha skin. His black body hair was a forest but it did nothing to conceal the godlike nature of his physique. He was just as tall as before but now his waist was slender and his abs were like a ladder climbing up his stomach. His shoulders were immensely wide and his deltoids looked like bowling balls. His arms were replete with muscles, jutting out from his sides. His lats were so big, they were visible even from the front, pushing out from his back like a pair of wings. His pecs were huge and perfectly square, his dark nipples jutting outward like manly bullets. His face was lean and rugged and his black beard accentuated his strong chin.

In short, he was handsome. Incredibly so. Charisma dripped from his very pores, having an immediate effect on the stylist whose cheeks were flushed. His eyes worshiped Nelson even as they zeroed in on his giant manhood.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Nelson swaggered out of the little trailer a whole new man. The stylist had done his job masterfully. Nelson’s beard was trimmed and his thick, black hair was shiny and styled. His body hair was still present but the guy had trimmed it to accentuate his perfect muscles. His dark skin was lustrous, almost luminous in the light of the sun.

He wore only a pair of shoulder pads and football tights…barely. Even after soaking them in a cooler filled with ice water, Nelson’s cock and balls were so swollen that the stylist couldn’t cinch the drawstring on the tights. Finally, he gave up and left them untied, the lacing straining to contain his oversized manhood. Underneath the tights, he wore an old-fashioned jockstrap but it did little for modesty. The wide waistband was clearly visible over the top of his narrow waist as were the upper three inches of his substantial man ass. The tights were pulled down far enough in the back to reveal an inch or two of the straps on the side. His package jutted out before him like a tumor. It was so huge that it was the first thing anyone noticed about him…and that’s the way it would be for the rest of his life.

All eyes were on him.

He dipped his head bashfully as he took in the throng of waiting people and the mass of camera and video equipment. From the looks of things, more than just the Sports Illustrated team was present; there were trucks in the nearby parking lot with satellite dishes. Was that a local television crew? Oh, fuck! he thought, panicking. How could I be seen like this in public? I’m not decent! No one seemed to mind, though. In fact, people started cheering as soon as he emerged and he was met with a sea of cellphones as people recorded his grand entrance. As he stood uncertainly, the director stepped away from the crowd, coming over to shake his hand.

“Mr. Abbas,” he said, surveying Nelson’s body approvingly. “You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

Nelson flushed, his gaze drifting over the director’s shoulder to meet Brady’s innocent blue eyes. His friend was staring at him with a mystified expression, almost as if he was looking at a stranger. Brady swallowed and his big Adam’s apple bounced up and down. And then he looked down at his feet like an awkward schoolboy.

“Your job’s gonna be easy,” the director was saying, oblivious to the silent communication going on between the two friends. “All you need to do is toss the ball to Brady. He’s gonna be running toward ya down the beach. When he gets close enough, throw him the ball and he’ll do the rest. This shoot is all ‘bout him, got it? Yer just there to anchor the frame.”

Realizing that he was waiting for his reply, Nelson nodded his head. “Got it. It’s all about Brady.”

“Good man!” the man said, clapping him on the back. “Yer the anchor, just like on your football team.” He paused thoughtfully before adding, “Yeah, that’s a good way to think of it. As the quarterback, you’re the leader. Everyone on the team is relying on you, Mr. Quarterback. Most importantly, Brady is relying on you. Now get out there and take care of him.”

Nelson mouthed the words, ‘Quarterback? Me?,’ as Brady glanced up shyly from studying his feet. His cheeks were rosy and his big, soft body was quivering with excitement.

***

The day was glorious and warm with a gentle breeze. The surf lapped against the shore and the beach was empty (because the SI team had cleared it for the photoshoot.) The ocean spread out before them like liquid sapphire as gulls circled lazily overhead. If Nelson turned away from the burgeoning camera and lighting crews, he could almost believe it was just he and Brady, alone together on the beach tossing the football back and forth. It was an activity they had enjoyed countless times before in the park back home.

But never quite like this.

Nelson’s mind was spinning and his greatly altered body felt weird. His balance had shifted upward as his center of gravity had risen and his power-to-weight ratio had changed. He found that he moved much faster now and with far more grace…as long as he kept one hand on his massive package at all times. Walking without holding it in place was difficult enough; his cock and balls were so big that they possessed their own inertia and flopped painfully back and forth with each step. Running was impossible. There was no way he would ever run down the field again unless he devised some method of fastening down his mutant package.

And then there was his ass.

Oh, yes, he hadn’t been spared back there. His ass had suffered nearly the same extreme fate as Brady’s. His hairy buttocks now formed a hefty shelf behind him, wide and heavy and muscular. His ass was a lot tighter than Brady’s and not nearly as fat, but it made little difference. His bodacious ass was nearly as remarkable as his honkin’ manhood. When he looked down at himself, he despaired. It was bad enough before when I was a 300-pound linebacker but now there’s no way I’ll ever blend into a crowd. My cock and ass are the only things people are gonna see!

Such concerns were in the future, though, and he didn’t have the luxury right then of dwelling upon it. Maybe this is all a dream? he thought feverishly. And I’ll wake up to find everything is back to normal.

Yes, he would worry about how to adapt in the future. Right then, Brady needed him.

Brady needed him to be strong.

His newly hulking friend stood before him, staring down at his big feet. He looked quite simply ridiculous in the string bikini. His body was so huge, so fleshy and so pink that the thong nearly disappeared into the soft rolls of flab around his middle. As Nelson examined his friend, he realized he looked like a Fernando Botero sculpture. He’d seen the artist’s work at a museum once when he was a boy and the massively inflated forms with puny genitalia had made an impression on his nascent sexuality.

“C’mon, bro,” he urged, pitching his voice to sound confident. “You can do this! We’re a team, right?”

Brady lifted his head and fixed him with those wide, bovine eyes. His lower lip was quivering. “B-B-B-But I can’t!” he wailed, dropping his gaze down to his pathetic crotch. “I-I-I-I’m so shrimpy! Wh-Wh-What h-h-h-happened ta me?”

Nelson sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

Making sure that the self-assured smile never left his face, he gripped his package firmly in his left hand and waddled over to his friend, feeling his big, square butt-shelf swaying behind him. He reached out and placed a hand on his big guy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Brady,” he ordered. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, his friend tore his gaze away from his boi-sized package and looked into Nelson’s eyes. He was on the verge of tears. 

Nelson took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. He knew the pressure he was under. Everyone was watching them. The director was pacing restlessly back and forth in the sand nearby, looking aggrieved. He heard someone snicker. The constant snap of camera shutters was distracting. If he didn’t get this right, Brady would crumble under the pressure and the photoshoot would be over. (And maybe that’s not such a bad thing?)

Squaring his big shoulders, he pushed everything away except for Brady Hayes. Staring into his friend’s guileless blue eyes, he felt his heart melt. It was such an unusual feeling that it gave him pause. Why? he wondered. Why am I feeling this way about him?

And then he got it.

He remembered everything from the night before.

As the memories cascaded down upon him, suddenly the whole bizarre, crazy, fucked-up and impossible situation made sense.

“Brady,” he said, leaning in close enough to rest his brow against the jock’s forehead, “it’s time to fight. We’re warriors, you and me. But we don’t fight to hurt or kill: We fight to love. No matter what anyone else thinks about us–even what we think about us–we’ll never give up. And we will always be together.”

With that, he kissed his friend and soon-to-be lover.

***

Brady was amazing.

Nelson’s kiss reawakened his old fire and determination. He no longer worried about how he looked or what he was wearing. As soon as Nelson’s lips left his, he was a new man. He lifted his chin and met Nelson’s gaze with a resolution that never wavered.

And then he proceeded to charge through the exercises like a plump, pink tank. He was unstoppable and even possessed a strange sort of beauty. His big, bulky and jiggly body had its own style, a ballet of sorts, and it took Nelson’s breath away. He watched Brady dodge and weave and spin with growing admiration…and lust. He couldn’t get enough of watching that huge ass and those mounded thighs wobble, shake and jiggle. And the fact that Brady was basically naked only made it that much enjoyable. 

Nelson threw the final pass and Brady leaped into the air, defying all odds and gravity, to expertly catch the ball. His face broke into a happy, proud grin and then Nelson was running, running, running as fast as he could. He didn’t care about his big ass and massive package as they flopped ignominiously with each stride. All he cared about was Brady.

Brady met him halfway, laughing and smiling, and Nelson halted, widening his stance and bending his knees to catch his friend. Brady collided with him like a cow meteor, nearly knocking him down in the sand. But Nelson was equally as big as Brady and even stronger. His big, new muscles strained under the onslaught but he didn’t topple. Instead, Brady’s corpulent mass folded around him and they united in a sweaty full-body hug.

“I fuckin’ love you, Brady!” he shouted, not caring who heard. “And I wanna fuck you so bad I can’t stand it–” his voice broke off as he let out a little moan of pain. Brady was a lot heavier than he remembered and, even with his new muscles, the dude was putting serious strain on his lower back. “But before I do that, let’s take this into the ocean where you’ll float.”

***

He carried Brady into the waves and proceeded to fuck his tender rosebud raw. They were so overcome with passion that neither gave a fuck about the watching crowd. Nelson dove down in the water and came out with Brady’s thong between his teeth. He spit it out into the waves and they kissed as Brady wrestled off his tights and jock, liberating his giant member. Fully engorged, it measured over two feet long and more than four inches in diameter.

Fucking a giant cock under water without lube was a challenge but Brady was equal to it. Never taking his eyes off Nelson’s, he wrapped his beefy arms around his neck and arched his back, opening his hole. Nelson grasped the mutant appendage that had somehow sprouted on his crotch and marveled at its sheer size and heft. His cockhead was so fat that he doubted he’d ever succeed in penetrating Brady without some serious stretching exercises. Brady was nothing if not determined, though, and after a good half hour of panting and gyrating and moaning, Nelson was inside his best bro’s hole.

He pushed him up onto the beach and fucked him like a stranded whale, hammering down on him from behind and driving the full immense length of his shaft deep into that hot, tight hole. He smacked his thighs against Brady’s butt, sending shockwaves through his soft, full body. Brady wailed like a walrus when Nelson climaxed, emptying his load deep inside him. He lay on top of Brady afterwards, chewing his ear and feeling his cock thrum with the longest orgasm ever. Being a good lover, he flipped the big dude over and went down on the boi-nub between his giant thighs, working his tongue through the tiny folds of his foreskin and tickling his micro glans.

“Ungh!” Brady gasped. “I’m sorry, bro–Unnnnngh!–but I don’t even got a clit down there no more.”

Nelson chose to use his tongue to demonstrate just how much he didn’t care about the size of Brady’s little cocklet. Soon, he had him yodeling so loudly that the glass vibrated in beach houses a mile away.

***

Nelson awoke to discover that Brady was gone. He was alone and naked on the beach, lying on his back on a towel. His legs were spread wide to accommodate his oversized nuts and giant sausage. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. It was past sunset and the beach was deserted. The camera crews and throngs of people were long gone. (He would learn later that Sports Illustrated filmed their lovemaking, licensing it and putting it behind a paywall. The video earned the magazine millions over the next few months but neither Brady nor Nelson saw a dime of it. They were college athletes after all and not permitted to make money off their sport.)

“Brady left. He flew home.”

Nelson gave a start at the sound of the voice and looked behind him to find a young guy standing there. The dude looked sort of familiar but it took him a while to place him.

“Don’t you recognize me without my giant cock and balls?” the kid asked, smiling as he took a seat next to Nelson on the sand. He was probably only nineteen or twenty years old and quite handsome. “I was next to you on the airplane,” he prompted when Nelson didn’t respond. “I had to pay for two seats in order to fit, remember?” He laughed, adding, “Guess that’s yer problem now.” He reached out and fondly patted Nelson’s humongous appendage as he said it. “Not that I’m gonna miss it. Now yer stuck with my big dick problems.”

Nelson closed his eyes and moaned at the touch. His cheeks reddened as he felt the monster sleeping between his thighs stir. The young guy snickered as his cock lengthened and fattened, becoming hard as a rock in almost no time. Soon, it was protruding out before him like a fence post.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna miss that,” the kid continued. “Getting hard at the slightest touch. It’s yer curse now, bro. I’m glad to get rid of it even if I am stuck with yer pathetic knob now.” As he spoke, he unzipped his jeans and shimmied them down his shapely thighs, showing Nelson his tiny but urgent erection. His little dick was dark-skinned and circumcised and maybe three inches long. His balls were all but invisible in the black forest of his pubes. Nelson knew that cock and balls intimately; they had been between his legs until just a few hours ago.

“Do ya regret it? Our trade?”

Nelson grimaced, looking away from his former package now mysteriously attached to another man’s crotch. “A little,” he admitted. “I was drunk and stupid. I never would’ve agreed if I’d been sober.” He sighed. “‘I’ll trade ya my cock for yer heart’s desire. All ya gotta do is lemme fuck ya with this,’” he repeated, shuddering. “Now it doesn’t seem like such a fair trade.” He fixed a gimlet eye on the ugly foreskin hanging more than a foot off the blunt head of his new cock, adding, “And as soon as I get back home, I’m having the doctor cut that revolting thing off! I can’t stand foreskins!”

“Good luck with that!” the guy replied, smirking. “The reason it’s so long is that I tried cutting it off once already. It regrew the next day even longer, slacker and stinkier. If you do it, you’ll regret it. Trust me!”

“I hate you!” Nelson spat. “I fucking hate you!”

If anything, his hatred only served to amuse the boy even more. He threw back his head and laughed loudly. It was a full-body sort of laugh, the laugh of someone who was finally free for the first time in a long time. Nelson watched him with narrowed eyes, waiting until he’d recovered enough to gasp, “But why do you hate me so much when ya got what you wanted? A huge cock and yer heart’s desire…even if you didn’t know what it was until I made Brady into yer perfect man.”

“My perfect man?!” He meant it to sound cold but the words came out unexpectedly warm. His anger and hatred melted away at the memory of Brady’s innocent face, corpulent body, giant ass and micro penis. “Yeah, I guess he is. He’s perfect. Just perfect. I had no idea I even swung that way.”

“You swing all ways now, dude. That’s the curse. Yer dick will get hard all the time from now on. There will barely be a moment when you don’t have a raging hardon.”

Nelson glared at him. “Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot for telling me that. I feel so much better.”

“Good!” the kid said, grinning. “Glad to help! And, just ‘cuz I’m feeling generous, I’ll offer to help you deal with that thing. Just this once as a parting gift.” He stood and shucked his jeans in one fluid motion while extracting a big bottle of lube. As Nelson watched, slack jawed, the dude squatted down and slathered his little, pert bottom with it and then poured the rest over Nelson’s giant erection.

“UNGH!” Nelson gasped, eyes rolling back in his head. He had just enough wherewithal before that hot, tight hole enveloped his member to ask, “W-W-W-Will this break the curse? If I fuck you? Will the cock go back to you?”

“Haha! You wish!” came the chipper reply. “The victim has to agree to the trade or it won’t work and I’m not agreeing to anything other than riding your big, fat dick!”

***