Note: This story follows two very different transformations. One is already in progress at the beginning but the other will unfold more slowly as the story progresses. I think you’ll enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Logan Harris’ friend Trent Davies returned from the weeklong diversity retreat a changed man. Very changed. Logan just about spit out his beer when his pal announced he was gay and coming out of the closet.

“It won’t change anything between us. Will it, Logan?” Trent asked, looking meaningfully over at him from his lawn chair. The pair were hanging out on the dock at Logan’s parent’s house, drinking beer and watching the moon rising over the lake. It was beautiful late August evening and the lake was quiet except for the pleasant chirp of crickets.

Logan set down his beer, trying not to look freaked out by this crazy news. It had been surprising enough when Trent showed up clean-shaven. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his bro without his signature dense, brown beard. He opened his mouth and searched for the right words. He knew that what he said next would affect his friendship with Trent for the rest of their lives and he didn’t want to get it wrong.

Before he could reply, though, Trent nodded sadly, saying, “You’re in shock. I get it. I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I–”

“I’m fine with it, man! Really!” Logan lied, reaching across to awkwardly clap his friend on the arm. “I’m just kinda surprised is all. I mean, you were always such a pussy hound! Last I checked, ya had racked more than a dozen of the hottest chicks on yer scorecard…”

Trent looked down, cheeks reddening. “It was all just a game. I faked every single one.”

“Every one?” Logan challenged. “Dude, I fuckin’ watched you bang two chicks at once in the hot tub in Vail that one time. You call that fakin’ it?”

“I stole my dad’s Viagra,” Trent admitted sheepishly. “Trust me, Logan. I did everything I could to be convincing but it was all just a ruse.”

“‘It was all just a ruse,’” Logan parroted, shaking his head. “Man, yer even talkin’ like a homo now. What the fuck happened to you at that retreat? Did they turn you gay or sumthin’?” He broke out laughing but stopped when he realized Trent was sitting in stony silence. He watched chagrined as his friend pushed himself out of his lawn chair and prepared to leave.

“You know what?” Trent spat. “This was a mistake. And I thought I could tell my best friend in the whole world and he would be supportive. I guess I was wrong!”

“Dude, wait!” Logan pleaded, reaching out to grab his friend’s arm. When Trent tried to pull away, he reeled him in, standing up to take him into a guy hug; i.e., chests touching but no contact below the waist. “I’m sorry, bro! Ya gotta cut me some slack, Ok? It’s just a lot to take in.” 

He patted Trent on the shoulders and tried to push him away but was surprised when his bro melted into his embrace, leaning his head on his shoulder and snuffling. When Trent wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed against him, Logan began to feel uncomfortable but knew he was already on thin ice and resigned himself to enduring this awkward show of affection. It was supremely weird to have his best bro crying on his shoulder like a whiny little bitch. Trent had always been such a macho tough guy. Logan couldn’t remember ever seeing him shed a tear much less get choked up before. 

He stood there, patting his friend’s back and waiting for him to stop crying. After a long time, Trent took a long, shuddering breath and stammered, “I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry! It’s just been weighing on me for so long. I have felt like such a fraud, pretending to be someone I’m not. I finally realized at the diversity retreat that I just couldn’t do it any longer. I had to come out!”

Logan sighed, trying really hard not to roll his eyes. “S’Ok, dude. S’Ok. I get you. You’ll just have to give me some time to adjust. I mean, I don’t know no other fags.”

“Gays,” Trent corrected, stiffening in his arms and pushing away. “We’re called ‘gays,’ Logan. Not fags. Don’t ever use that word again.”

“Whoa, dude! My bad! I’m sorry!” Logan soothed, holding up his hands placatingly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise I’ll think more carefully about how I say shit in the future.”

Trent hesitated, gazing unnervingly into his eyes for so long that Logan noticed he’d plucked his eyebrows. The dude’s brows were more perfectly sculpted than a chick’s! And then there was that super tight haircut. Trent’s normally ragged, sandy blond hair was perfectly coifed in a new style that, Logan hated to admit, looked super gay. He shook his head, marveling at how different the guy was. And he’d thought he’d known him…

When the silence between them had stretched well into the uncomfortable range, Trent cleared his throat and, dipping his head in an unfamiliar (and very faggy) way, said, “Thanks, Logan. I know you’ll do your best to be a good friend and I appreciate it. We’re still besties, right?”

“Fer sure, bro! Fer sure!” Logan replied a little too forcefully. “You an’ me are bros til the end!”

Trent’s face broke into a wide smile and his blue eyes sparkled in the fading sunlight. “That makes me so happy, Logan! You are the best friend a boi could ever have!” With that, he tugged his tank top over his head and tossed it aside before unbuttoning his shorts, saying, “Now let’s take a dip in the lake! I’ve been dying to swim here ever since I got back from diversity camp!”

Logan smiled and was starting to pull off his t-shirt when Trent shocked him by yanking down his shorts, revealing the bright pink Speedo he was wearing underneath. Logan goggled, jaw dropping open, as his friend leapt off the dock and into the water with a small splash.

Trent Davies had really changed!

***

Logan avoided Trent for the next several days, claiming to be busy with the final week of his summer job before leaving for college. The more he thought about Trent’s gay revelation, the more it bothered him. He now seriously regretted their decision to share an apartment in the fall because it meant he’d be stuck in close contact with Trent for the next nine months.

Was Trent going to start hitting on him? Would he jump all over Logan if he said the wrong thing? What about if Trent started dating? Was he going to have his boyfriends sleeping over all the time? He gritted his teeth, imagining listening to his friend getting fucked up the ass through the paper-thin walls of their apartment.

And then there was the football team.

How the fuck would the rest of the guys on the team take the news that their wide receiver was a big homo? And would they assume that Logan was also a homo because he and Brent were living together? Shit, he thought, there goes my cred with the dudes! I’m gonna catch so much shit for this and it’s all because fuckin’ Trent decided to fag out. Fuck.

Unfortunately, he could only avoid Trent for so long because the fall semester was starting in a week and their apartment was ready for move-in; he’d promised his buddy that he could use his pickup truck to haul this shit. On Saturday morning, he rolled up to Trent’s house and honked the horn, rolling his eyes when his friend emerged from within. Trent was wearing a pair of mauve clam diggers and a white polo shirt with a gold necklace hanging down the front. Everything about the dude screamed GAY GAY GAY!

When Logan jumped out of the truck to pull open the tailgate, Trent didn’t even bother with a hello. He glowered at him, stating flatly, “You’ve been avoiding me.” It was weird; his voice sounded different. Softer, sort of lilting and a bit lispy. In short, gayer.

Logan looked down at his feet, trying to think of a suitable response but all that came out of his mouth was, “I, um, I mean, I…I didn’t mean to…”

If he hoped that Trent would be forgiving, though, he was sorely mistaken. His friend sighed disgustedly, saying, “Jesus, Logan! Do you know how hard this has been on me? My parents aren’t talking to me, my church group kicked me out and my brothers all hate me. I need you right now. I really need you!”

“I-I-I’m sorry, bro.” Logan swallowed and, taking a deep breath, looked up and met his friend’s gaze. Trent’s eyes held such anguish, though, that he had to look away but not before he noticed the dude had pierced both ears, twin diamond studs twinkling on each lobe. “I wanna be, you know, supportive and all but this is hard on me, too. I…I mean, I feel almost like I don’t know ya anymore, dude. Yer so different!”

“I’m still the same!” Brent protested. “I haven’t changed! I’m just more me now, that’s all.”

Logan shook his head. “Nah, it’s more than that. You really are different.” He looked back up and forced himself to maintain eye contact. “Yer voice is higher and yer wearing weird clothes. Not to mention that haircut, yer plucked eyebrows, those new earrings and that fuckin’ pink Speedo you were wearin’ last week! The old Trent never woulda in a million years–”

“Those are all just externalities,” Trent pointed out, inadvertently underscoring Logan’s point with the use of the word ‘externalities.’ “Inside, I’m still the same.”

“Are you, Trent?” Logan challenged. “Are you still the same?” He paused, wrestling with his conscience which was telling him to be easy on his friend and his desire to be honest. In the end, honesty won out and he said sadly, “I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.”

***

The ride to the city was painful. Trent cried most of the way while Logan clenched his jaw, staring straight ahead and driving mechanically. Things improved slightly when they arrived at their new apartment and the two friends slipped into a companionable rhythm, helping each other carry boxes upstairs and setting up their new place. They kept the conversation casual and gradually the tension between them eased.

“Beer break?” Logan asked, holding out a frosty can of Budweiser to his friend.

Trent looked at it askance before reaching past him into the fridge and pulling out a White Claw, explaining, “Sorry, Logan. Gotta watch my carbs.” He popped the tab on the fruity drink and clinked the can against Logan’s beer before lifting it to his lips and taking a delicate sip.

Logan smiled wanly and shook his head. This was yet another example of his friend’s changes; the old Trent was a Bud man through and through. He set this thought aside, though, in the interest of maintaining domestic peace and took a deep gulp of his beer. He almost spit it out, though, when he turned and saw Trent taking off his shirt.

“Dude!” he exclaimed. “You shaved yer chest?”

Trent looked down at his denuded chest and shrugged. “It’s not shaved. I got electrolysis.”

“Elect-what-o-sis?”

Trent’s delicate eyebrows drew together. “Electrolysis. I had the hair permanently removed.”

Logan closed his eyes, mind spinning with this news. Brent used to have one of the hairiest chests on the football team. Not quite as hairy as Logan’s but definitely furry. Now he was completely smooth and his pale skin had an almost porcelain-like sheen. Even more, his bulked-up football player physique had melted away and his torso had softened…a lot. Trent’s once beefy body was now slight and formless, more closely resembling a young teen boy’s than a burly man’s. His perky nipples stood out like little pencil erasers and he sported a small but distinctly rounded belly.

Logan had to turn away. He just couldn’t take any more of this! The strange stabbing ache he’d felt back at Trent’s parent’s house when he’d admitted that he felt like he’d lost his best friend came back with a vengeance. He staggered over to the sofa they’d just heaved up the stairs and plopped down, staring out the window where his gaze was drawn to the athletic field across the street. A couple of big, beefy guys were tossing a football back and forth in an easy, companionable silence. That should be me and Trent, he thought forlornly, but I can’t imagine doing that now. He’s so different!

***

That night, they ordered pizza and set up their bedrooms while they waited for it to arrive. Logan plastered his walls with posters of naked chicks and proudly displayed his football trophies on the shelves over his dresser. He lay back on his bed, listening to his stomach growl as Trent rummaged around in the room next door. The now familiar ache in his chest was still there and try as he might, he couldn’t ignore it. Finally, he gave up fighting and admitted he was missing his old friend.

Trent Davies had been like a big brother to Logan even though they were the same age. He’d taught him how to shoot a bow, fly fish and ride an ATV. It had been Trent who played wingman back in tenth grade when Logan got laid the first time. Trent had convinced him to try out for the middle school football team all those years ago. Fuck, it had even been Trent who convinced him to apply for the football scholarship!

Trent had been the epitome of macho, a barrel-chested bro with a crude sense of humor and a cocky swagger. He was legendary on campus for his attitude and animal magnetism with the babes. Every other guy wanted to be him, including Logan.

Not now, though.

This new Trent was a pale shadow–No, a cruel joke!–compared to the friend that Logan knew and admired. How could he have changed so much? Could he really have been hiding in the closet, pretending to be a tough dude the whole time? Was his old self really a coverup for who he really was?

He shook his head. Something didn’t add up. He couldn’t believe Trent had been faking it all this time. He’d never once picked up on any queer vibes from him. Logan had known him for more than ten years; they had done everything together, shared so many heterosexual experiences that it boggled his mind to consider that it was all a hoax.

The question was, though, what could he do about it? If Trent wanted to be a fag, Logan couldn’t stop him.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he sighed with resignation. He had no choice but to take what Trent told him at face value because there could be no other explanation for his rapid transformation. After all, what guy would make himself into an object of ridicule and risk so much rejection from his family and friends if he weren’t truly a homosexual? Trent was now a gay man and an effeminate one at that. There was nothing Logan could do but try to be a good friend to this new, girly Trent.

If he were in the same situation, he knew that Trent would be there for him. The old Trent might have been crude but he was also caring and loyal. He never let his friends down, no matter what. Logan owed it to him. Yeah, he owed him. He would stick by his friend because that’s what friends were for. Logan had never known a gay guy before. Maybe this was a good opportunity to learn something?

Yeah, he would try. He would try to be friends with Trent and see what happened.

The ache eased in his chest a bit with this decision but it didn’t go away.

***

“Pizza’s here, bro.” 

Logan stood in the doorway of Trent’s bedroom, watching his friend arranging pair after pair of brightly-colored undies in the top drawer of his dresser. “Wait,” he said, unable to stop himself, “Are those panties?”

Trent stopped and turned to him, a shy expression on his face as he admitted, “Yeah. They’re hella sexy, aren’t they?” He paused and held one up, unfurling the tiny, bright orange garment for Logan’s inspection. It was just like a pair of women’s string panties with only a microscopic pouch sewn in the front.

Logan stared at it, unnerved. Somehow, though, he managed to remember his pledge to try to get to know this new Trent and he didn’t mock him like he so badly wanted to do. Instead, he choked, “Uh, so, bro, how do ya, er, manage to stuff yer junk in that thing? Doesn’t it, ya know, sort of spill out?”

“That’s not a problem anymore.”

Logan blinked. A ‘problem’? Anymore? What’s he mean by that? Part of Trent’s legendary status as alpha male was his massive package. The dude was famous–or infamous, rather–in the locker room for strutting around, his long, dangling cock and bull balls swinging proudly between his legs. Logan’s growling stomach prevented him from clarifying further, though, and he shrugged and, turning toward the kitchenette, said, “Let’s eat bro. I’m starvin’.”

***

Chapter 2

Trent had already left for football practice when Logan got up. He shuffled into the bathroom and took a piss, shaking his head in disbelief at the myriad of skin care products lined up on the sink. On the way back to his room, he paused in the doorway of his friend’s bedroom and took in the Ariana Grande posters and pride flags covering the walls. Gone were the monster truck posters and dirty clothes piled up in every corner. Trent’s room was now spotlessly clean and very colorful. The dude had even had a canopy bed with a delicate pink chiffon coverlet.

Jesus, he thought, feeling queasy. It just keeps gettin’ weirder.

***

Logan arrived late to practice and walked into the locker room to find the whole team sitting on the benches, listening closely as Coach Spinner made a speech. Logan stopped in surprise when he saw that Trent was standing next to Spinner, the coach’s arm draped over his slender shoulders. Trent’s head was lowered but, even standing behind them, Logan could tell that the tips of his ears were pink.

“…and remember our team is inclusive of all colors, gender identities and sexual orientations,” Spinner was saying, hand reflexively squeezing Trent’s shoulder as he spoke. “Trent Davies has taken a big risk today by sharing their news with us, boys, and I expect y’all to be supportive of them…”

Logan was so busy puzzling out the coach’s use of ‘their’ and ‘them’ when referring to Trent that it took a moment for the full impact of Spinner’s words to filter in. When they did, he just about shit. Holy fuck! he thought, Trent just fuckin’ came out to the whole team!

“…an’ if I hear any of ya sayin’ anything negative, yer ass is mine!” the coach finished, punctuating his point with a crude gesture. 

Logan watched as the rest of the team nodded. Their expressions were uniformly friendly and most of the guys were smiling. Are they just pretending, Logan wondered. Or are they really Ok with Trent being queer?

“Ah, there you are, Mr. Harris!” Coach Spinner called out, startling Logan out of further reflection. “Yer the man of the hour! Trent has been telling us all how supportive you are. They say yer the best straight ally anyone could have!”

Logan swallowed, feeling his cheeks flush beneath his beard. “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled. “I’m real supportive of, er, them. He’s, I mean, they’ve been…real brave an’ all.”

“And you have stuck by them like a true friend,” Spinner finished for him before turning back to the rest of the team. “I expect y’all to follow Harris’ example. Nuthin’ but fuckin’ positivity, boys! Hear me?” There was a chorus of grunts from the assembled team and they started to stand, preparing to undress for practice. Coach Spinner wasn’t finished with them yet, though. “Remember to enroll in the online Diversity, Equity and Inclusion module before the end of the day, Ok? Yer all required to complete the intro and enroll in an exercise of yer choice. It’s University policy.”

***

“So, Logan,” Trent was saying as they got dressed in the locker room after practice, “I signed you up for a DEI course. I think you’re gonna like it. Can I have your phone?” He…or they, Logan reminded himself as they held their hand out and wiggled their fingers. Almost without thinking, Logan pulled out his iPhone and handed it to them.

He was still in a state of disbelief from the surreal experience on the practice field. Try as he might, he couldn’t get the sight of Trent prancing around with that big, round bottom bouncing salaciously behind them. Since when had Trent’s butt gotten so big? (I just saw them at the lake a week ago and I swear their ass wasn’t that big then!) The straps of the dude’s bright yellow jockstrap were clearly visible through the straining fabric of their football pants. It was almost obscene! Logan had tired hard to ignore the sight but it was impossible to do so. When he closed his eyes, the image of that huge, perky bottom framed by the neon yellow straps was burned into his mind. He felt sick.

“There,” Trent said, handing the phone back to him. “I’ve downloaded the module and the exercises. I think you’re gonna like it!”

Logan shook himself, looking up from the bench as Trent resumed primping in front of the mirror. Their lips seemed fuller than Logan remembered, almost pillowy. And, wait, had they sprinkled themselves with glitter? He looked away, stomach churning, and glanced down at his phone. Trent had installed a new app. “‘The Himbo Challenge,’” he read aloud, scrunching up his face. “What’s that mean?”

Trent shrugged. “It’s sooooper fun! Trust me.”

“Huh. I dunno.”

Trent stopped primping long enough to glance down at him. “Just listen to it when we get home. You’ll see.”

Logan was unconvinced but didn’t feel like getting into it with Trent again. “Sure, Ok. I’ll listen to it but I’ll download a different one if I don’t like it.”

“Sure, babe,” Trent replied happily. “You do you.”

***

Logan fell asleep almost as soon as he plugged his earbuds in and tapped on the ‘Himbo Challenge’ podcast app. He couldn’t tell if it was the lulling background music or the somnolent tone of the speaker’s voice as he introduced the listener to the first module. Psychedelic colors undulated across the screen as the man droned on and on. Within a few seconds, Logan’s eyelids were drooping and he was having trouble following the monotonous speech. Soon, he yawned and stretched, giving up on listening and lying back on his pillow.

Trent was standing over him when he awoke. “So, what’d you think? Cool stuff, isn’t it?”

Logan blinked sleepily, a half-remembered mantra repeating itself in the back of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t quite make out the words. “Uh, yeah, it was great,” he lied. “I learned a ton.”

“Good. I knew you would!” The smile on Trent’s face was infectious and Logan found himself grinning in response. “Are you ready for the first challenge?”

Logan paused, uncertain what he meant until he glanced down at his phone and saw the words, ‘Himbo Grooming,’ blinking on the screen. “What’s that mean?” he asked, completely confused.

“Don’t worry, hon,” Trent chirped. “I’ll show ya. C’mon! Let’s go shopping!”

***

Chapter 3

Only with great difficulty was Logan able to talk Trent out of going shopping downtown that evening. In the end, he pleaded out of it, telling his friend that he was too tired from football practice and he needed to rest. It was only a slight exaggeration. He was groggy after listening to the DEI module and his brain felt foggy. Worse, though, was his hardon. His cock was twitching painfully in his boxers and it took all his resolve not to reach down and massage it while he was talking to Trent. He all but ran into his bedroom and slammed the door shut afterward, yanking down his jeans and grabbing his already hard cock in his hand. He braced, pressing his bare buttocks against the door and inhaling sharply as a wave of euphoria swept over him. Jacking off had never felt so good!

He came in a volcanic climax, spewing hot cum far and wide across this room. The orgasm left him dazed and bemused. (I did that? Shit! That was awesome!) He didn’t have much time to savor the experience because his cock was already hardening and soon he was ready for another go. Four more orgasms like the first one followed in rapid succession and Logan was spent. He let his drained hose flop down between his hairy thighs and smiled to himself.

I’m a fuckin’ stud! he thought before shaking his head. A stud who really needs to get laid. Geezus, how long’s it been? A month? Two? Maybe I should go out tonight?

Mopping up the big puddle of cooling cum off the floor with his discarded boxers, he stepped into a pair of sweats and stuffed his still hard member inside. His foreskin was retracted and the friction against the fabric made him moan until he reached inside and tugged his skin back over the glans. He considered asking Trent if they wanted to hit the bars with him but quickly discarded the notion. In their current fagged-out condition, Trent was not wingman (wingperson?) material. He frowned, once again missing his good ol’ reliably heterosexual friend.

In the end, he texted a couple of football buddies, arranging to meet up with them for a beer. They quickly agreed and he sneaked out of the apartment without telling Trent where he was going. He was disappointed, though, when he arrived at the bar. University classes didn’t begin for another week and the place was almost empty. He considered leaving and going back home to jack off some more (his cock was swinging heavy and full in his sweats) but his big bro, Antwan Jackson, walked in just then and there was no backing out. In the end, he ended up nursing a couple beers with Antwan and Carlos while subtly checking out the bar for any interested ladies. When none materialized, he took his leave and trudged back home with his blue balls throbbing painfully with each step. This was torture!

***

By the time he got back to the apartment, his bladder was ready to burst from all the beer. The only problem was Trent was in the bathroom. Logan stood outside the door, crossing his legs and chewing on his tongue as he waited for his friend to finish up. When he heard a soft splash from the other side of the door, though, he groaned. The dude was taking a bath!

He considered pissing off the balcony but the apartment was right in front of a streetlight and there was no way he could do so without being spotted. He folded his arms, thinking furiously. When his gaze landed on the kitchen sink, he had already staggered halfway across the kitchenette before he stopped himself. This was crazy! He never would have hesitated taking a piss in front of Trent before so why should he care now? Was it just because the dude was a fruit and he was worried about them ogling his dick? He snorted at his prudishness. If the faggot wanted to stare at his cock, let them!

Squaring his shoulders, he turned and marched up to the bathroom door, banging on it with his fist. “Dude, I’m coming in. I gotta piss!”

He didn’t wait for a reply before barging in. Inside, Trent was taking a bubble bath and reading a romance novel. They had on a pink showercap and a dozen rubber duckies bobbed in the sudsy water around them. They looked startled by the interruption but didn’t react and quickly went back to reading the book. Logan shook his head; by this point, he was becoming inured to Trent’s faggy behavior. And besides, he had to piss!

Stalking over to the toilet, he pulled out his dick and commenced pissing like a fucking racehorse. Relief flooded over him and he stood there for a long time, waiting for his stream to abate. It took forever and he started to feel self-conscious because he knew that Trent had a clear view of him. It didn’t help that when he was finally done, he looked over to find his friend’s eyes locked on his dripping cock. He shook it off and, slicking down his foreskin, stuffed it back inside his sweats.

He was turning to go when Trent cleared their throat. “Um, aren’t you going to wash your hands?”

Logan halted. (Who the fuck washes his hands after taking a piss?) He was tempted to ignore the admonition but instead sighed and stepped over to the sink, turning on the faucet and waiting for the water to warm. He was obediently washing his hands when he heard Trent heave themself out of the bathwater. Before he could stop himself, he had lifted his gaze to the mirror and was staring at his friend’s naked body.

Trent had their back to him as they reached down to drain the tub and turn on the shower. Logan watched with a mixture of fascination and revulsion at his friend’s greatly changed body. Trent’s formerly tight, muscular buttocks had disappeared entirely and they now sported twin globes of such massive size that it boggled Logan’s mind. They were round and full and heavy, swaying languorously as Trent leaned into the spray of the shower and arched their back. Logan swallowed thickly as he watched the soap bubbles trickle between his friend’s slender shoulder blades, down the furrow of their back before funneling into the deep cleft of their buttocks. Their skin was smooth and supple and completely hairless. So smooth…so smooth…

That ass is bigger than a chick’s! Logan thought, willing himself to look away. For some reason, he found he couldn’t and continued to stand there, holding his hands under the hot water and letting the faucet run. Trent’s ass was completely mesmerizing. Logan had never seen anything like it on a guy…or whatever Trent was now…and knew he should be revolted by the sight.

But he wasn’t.

Far from it!

He blushed bright pink when he realized his cock was standing at attention in his sweatpants, pressing luridly against the material. He glanced down and realized he could see the thick veins of his man sausage standing out against the material.

I…I…I really need to get laid, he thought, unable to keep his eyes from returning to those spectacularly round, ripe, plump butt cheeks. It’s only ‘cuz their ass looks like a girl’s that I’m turned on. Yeah, that’s it! It’s just because they’ve got a big ol’ girly butt! I’m not queer or nuthin’!

Just then, Trent turned, exposing their front for the first time and Logan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“Dude!” he shouted without thinking. “What the fuck happened to yer balls?!”

If Trent was surprised by his outburst, they didn’t show it. Casually cracking open an eyelid, they glanced down at their crotch and shrugged. “I had them removed.”

Logan gaped. He stood there, fish-mouthing and frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the supremely disorienting sight of his friend’s shrunken penis hanging limply over a completely empty nutsac. Trent’s pubes were shaved smooth, a fact that only served to make their destroyed manhood much more obvious. It was freakish and disturbing and left Logan gasping for air as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.

The essence of nonchalance, Trent finished rinsing off and, tugging the showercap off their head, commenced toweling off. They made no effort to hide their neutered state and even thrust their crotch forward as they wiped dry. It was almost as if they were challenging Logan to keep staring at them.

With great effort, Logan managed to croak, “But why, Trent? Why would you do that to yerself?”

“I like myself better like this,” Trent explained in a small voice. “I feel like I’m finally the boi I was meant to be.”

Logan opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to comprehend what he’d just heard. Finally, he stammered, “L-L-Lemme get this straight. Y-Y-You think cutting off yer balls makes you more of a man, er, boy or whatever?”

“Well, it doesn’t make me any less of one, does it?”

“‘Course it does!” Logan barked. “Without balls, a man isn’t a man anymore! He’s a fuckin’ freak!”

Trent sighed. “I’m not a man; I’m a sissy boi. This just makes it official. Do you think I’m a freak because I don’t have testicles? I’m taking testosterone, just not a lot of it. I like what I am now. I feel free. More alive. And my mind is clear for the first time in my life.” They paused to spread their arms wide, inviting Logan to take in the full sight their soft, hairless body and shriveled, ball-less cock. “This is who I am, Logan.”

***

Chapter 4

Logan didn’t sleep well that night. The image of Trent’s lifeless cocklet and empty ballsac was seared into his mind and he lay awake, reliving the surreal experience over and over. It didn’t help that his cock was rock hard the whole time, demanding attention and muddying the horror with the potent haze of desire. Jerking off to videos of naked women didn’t help. His dick would go limp as soon as he pressed play but then would start throbbing painfully again the moment he put his phone away. Finally, he gave in and masturbated furiously while visualizing those huge, voluptuous buttocks swaying back and forth while Trent looked over their shoulder at him and bent over, spreading their legs and exposing their tiny dicklet, smooth taint, and…

He exploded in orgasm, showering his chest, face, and bed with a torrent of cum. His cock convulsed in his hand, spasming and spasming and spasming until he whimpered in agony. Only after a long time did it abate, leaving him spent and full of self-loathing.

What the fuck was wrong with him getting off on Trent’s freakshow body?!

***

Logan watched Trent carefully at practice the next day, noting how his friend was very careful when changing in the locker room. They went out of their way to hide their penis and waited until the rest of the guys were finished cleaning off before showering. Logan felt strangely touched by this shyness. Trent had been very upfront with him about their castrated state but hid it from the rest of the team…which meant they trusted Logan. They value my friendship, he thought as he watched Trent changing under a towel. They trust me not to make fun of them or expose them in front of the team. 

He felt his chest soften with this realization. He didn’t know why exactly but later he would look back at that moment as the beginning of his new friendship with Trent Davies. Going forward, he and Trent never again regained their former broey bond but the one that was forged in its place was somehow even stronger.

He waited for Trent outside the locker room, slipping in beside them and nudging them with his shoulder. 

Trent looked up at him and smiled, asking, “Are you ready for the next challenge? I have the rest of the afternoon free.”

Logan thought about this. He’d been so worked up over Trent’s missing balls to think about the diversity challenge. It seemed like forever ago that he’d listened to the strangely stupefying podcast.

Lifting his shoulders, he agreed. “Yeah, let’s go back to the apartment for lunch. I’ll listen to the next part and then we can head out.”

“Deal.”

***

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

“Logan, did you listen to all of it, hon?”

Logan’s eyes snapped open and he looked up to find Trent standing over him. Their arms were crossed and they were smiling.

He groaned, sitting up on his elbows and pulling out his earbuds. “Uh, yah, I guess so. I mean, it was super cool, ya know. I learned a ton.” The truth was he barely remembered anything after he pressed play on the first module (‘Himbo Grooming’) of the Himbo Challenge app. The screen on his iPhone started undulating with surreal colors and then a man’s guttural voice echoed through his ears. His eyelids had grown heavy and he was out of it until Trent woke him.

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

He became aware of his erection just as Trent’s eyes dropped down to his crotch and he scrambled off the couch, hurriedly covering his huge bulge with his hands and fleeing to his room.

“I’ll just wait out here while you take care of that, big guy,” Trent called out as Logan slammed the door shut behind him. “Then we can go out.”

Logan barely heard him. He was too busy yanking down his shorts and beating off. He shot a huge load, splattering it across his room and moaned loudly before he realized Trent could hear and he choked off the sound. His cock was already hard again, though, and he was forced to jack off three more times before his erection finally went down…sort of. He had to stuff his cock into the tightest pair of boxers he owned to make it presentable in public. When he was satisfied that the outline of his fat boner wasn’t visible to everyone he met walking down the street, he staggered out of the bedroom. 

“Feel better now?” Trent asked, a smirk on their face. Logan grunted and they headed out for the first exercise in the Himbo Challenge.

***

Doctor Isao owned a clinic on the heart of the gay district downtown. Logan didn’t realize where he was going until Trent guided him to the parking spot right in front. The sign on the front of the building read, Extreme Makeover Clinic.

“Trent, this ain’t some kinda gay thing, is it?” he demanded, crossing his arms and glaring mutinously at his friend as several homos strolled past the truck, peering inside and smiling flirtatiously at him. “‘Cuz I didn’t sign up for no gay bullshit. This is a diversity challenge, not a fuckin’ Queer Eye homo thing!”

Trent rolled their eyes and got out of the truck, saying, “You wanna succeed at the challenge, right? This is the first part. If yer gonna be a himbo, ya gotta look the part.”

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

Logan opened his mouth. He didn’t even know what a himbo was, much less if he wanted to be one. Somehow, though, when Trent stated it like that, he found himself agreeing with him. It was a diversity challenge and he definitely wanted to win! If nothing else, Logan Harris was intensely competitive. He was gonna be the best goddamned himbo out there!

A tall, thin and smartly-dressed older man, Dr. Isao met them in the waiting room, smiling when he saw Trent. “Ah, Mx. Davies!” (‘Mux’? Logan wondered. What the fuck is a ‘mux’?) “I am glad to see you again. What can I do for you today?”

Trent looked over at Logan before sitting up in the chair and beginning, “I’m here for my friend. He just started the diversity challenge and needs some help.”

Dr. Isao nodded, glancing over at Logan and smiling kindly. “I can see that. My son, Seiji, should be able to help him get started.” He paused, looking Trent up and down before asking, “But what about you, Trent? Are you really here just for your friend or is something else? What can I do for you?”

Trent colored slightly, glancing around the waiting room where several young guys, obviously fags to Logan’s jaundiced eye, were sitting and cleared his throat. “Uh, maybe we can talk about this inside?”

Giving a slight bow, Dr. Isao motioned toward a stainless steel door next to the receptionist’s window and ushered them inside.

***

The doctor’s son, Seiji Nakamura, found Logan a few minutes later in the private salon where Dr. Isao had led them. Logan was waiting in a barber chair, looking around and trying not to act nervous. He wasn’t very successful because his hands were clammy and he kept shifting around in the chair, unable to get comfortable. Seiji’s appearance, however, helped to calm him somewhat; the young guy was the epitome of normal (in Logan’s view), being about twenty years old and wearing casual attire. Of medium build and sporting stylishly trimmed black hair, he would have blended in easily with any group of college students. He was handsome in a boyish sort of way (not that Logan paid any attention to that sort of thing) and the corner of his mouth was perennially lifted in an expression of wry amusement.

“Lemma guess,” Seiji muttered, looking Logan up and down critically. “Yer here for the Himbo Challenge.”

Logan didn’t hear him at first. He had just caught sight of Dr. Isao and Trent in the mirror and was unwillingly captivated. The doctor had asked Trent to strip naked and Trent was standing with their back to Logan, giving him an exemplary view of those ample buttocks. The doctor examined Trent’s body as Trent prattled on about something. Logan wasn’t following their conversation, though; he was too busy watching those voluptuous ass cheeks swaying back and forth. Realizing he was sporting a massive erection, he shifted quickly in the chair, forcing his cock between his legs.

He looked up at Seiji chagrined, stammering, “Uh, yeah, that’s right. How’d ya guess?”

Seiji didn’t reply to this but his sardonic expression spoke volumes. Sighing deeply, he prompted, “Top, bottom or vers?”

Logan stared at him, mouth falling open. He had no idea what the question meant.

When he didn’t reply, Seiji drawled sarcastically, “Vers, then. Excellent choice. The best of both worlds. C’mon, bro, let’s get this over with.”

Logan wondered what he meant by ‘vers’ but soon figured out that a haircut was part of the deal because Seiji spun him around so he was facing a mirror and pulled over a small table with clippers and combs and scissors of various sizes. He draped an apron over Logan’s shoulders and tied one of those scratchy strips of paper around his neck before grabbing the clippers and shearing off most of his thick brown hair. Logan opened his mouth to stop him but it was too late. In a few minutes, his formerly out-of-control facial hair was shorn down to a short, dense beard and the thick thatch of hair on his head was tamed on the sides while still retaining some of its shaggy charm on top.

He was sitting there, blinking in amazement at how different he looked when Seiji surprised him by pricking his face with a syringe, aiming around his eyes, nose and cheeks.

“Ow!” he yelped, trying to swat him away. “What the fuck is that?”

Seiji set the syringe aside and pushed Logan’s hands down, explaining, “It’s the usual himbo vers shit. You signed up for the full treatment, didn’t ya?”

Logan’s face was burning where the liquid had been injected and his eyes were watering. Before he could ask more questions, though, he was startled by the sudden changes happening to his face. He lifted his eyebrows in amazement. “I look…so…”

“Cute but dumb?” Seiji finished, mouth quirking. He laughed, adding, “Well, ya already had the dumb part pretty well down.” He grinned apologetically when Logan glared at him, continuing, “I tole ya it’s the versatile himbo look, dude. Vers himbos gotta appeal to the broadest possible demographic, ya know.”

Logan was too busy gaping at his rapidly changing face to make much sense of these words. By the time the mysterious chemical in the syringe had finished its work, he was almost unrecognizable. His formerly broad nose had shrunk and was now pert and upturned. His chin and cheekbones had become more angular and his brown eyes looked both duller and bigger. He blinked, realizing the stuff made him appear younger and naive but there was also something about his expression that was sly and mischievous. He opened his mouth just as Seiji grabbed his lip and injected it with a viscous liquid. Before he could holler out in pain, though, the guy had done the same with his lower lip. When he was through, Logan’s lips were fuller, almost…luscious.

He was left staring back at the face of a strange…boy? Man? Both? It was a surreal experience for poor Logan who moments ago had been the epitome of a macho jock. Now, however, he was something else and he couldn’t quite figure it out. He sat there, eyeballing his reflection, so engrossed that he didn’t resist when Seiji prompted him to stand and then proceeded to strip him naked, throwing his clothes down a chute.

His new face was a study of opposites, boyish and masculine. There were his big, brown eyes with their long lashes. They were soft and innocent and yet somehow saturnine, as if he was both eager and cynical at the same time. His cheeks were full and fresh and his lips were sensuous, almost pouty. His formerly out-of-control chestnut locks had been tamed into a tight hairstyle with the brushy mop on top made him look like a freshly-recruited soldier who had just rolled out of bed.

He still had a beard–and a thick one at that–but somehow it didn’t do much to make him look more grown up. Quite the opposite! His beard, a traditional hallmark of manhood, now made him seem like he had grown it to appear more mature than he was. Like he was pretending to be a man. He shook his head, unable to figure out exactly how he felt about his new face.

While he was ogling his transformed features, Seiji had been busy rubbing numbing lotion over his genitals and buttocks. He didn’t realize the guy was injecting his shaft with a strange coagulant until he felt a tugging down there. In a fog, he started to protest–the fucking fruit was touching his junk!–but Seiji forestalled him.

“Relax,dude,” he soothed. “It’s safe.”

Logan’s brain was spinning and he was having trouble formulating coherent thoughts. He didn’t remember signing up for anything like this! What was Seiji doing to him? And why? Nothing made sense! Just as he was about to lose it, though, the mantra from the Himbo Challenge podcast rang through his head and he felt himself relaxing.

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

He exhaled and mumbled, “Uh, what is that shit anyway? It’s makin’ my dick look weird.”

“This,” Seiji informed him, not bothering to look up, “is just filler. Ya already got the necessary length for a himbo but yer lackin’ girth. This’ll give ya a big, thick sausage. And this,” he jerked his chin over at another pair of syringes lying on the nearby tray, “will counteract the effects of the ‘roids I’m about to give ya. Once I shoot those babies into yer boys, you’ll have a swinging pair of bull balls that’ll never shrink.”

‘Roids? Did he mean steroids? And what was wrong with his dick the way it had been? Logan’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton and he had difficulty pronouncing the words he so desperately wanted to say. Was there something in the drugs Seiji had given him that was affecting his mind? His thoughts were sluggish and everything felt washed in a red haze. He could hear the rush of blood in his ears; it was so loud it almost drowned out everything else…everything except for the mantra (‘A himbo sez yes to everything!’) which kept echoing through his skull, building in intensity and filling him with the most bizarre and unnatural urges.

In the end, he just stood there unmoving as Seiji filled his cock shaft with multiple syringes of the weird stuff that burned as it expanded, bloating his manhood to stupendous proportions. Soon, his big dick was hanging heavy and full between his thighs, easily bigger around than a beer can. The skin seemed to relax as it filled, causing his already sizable foreskin to sag down further until it slumped listlessly off his fat, round glans. The net effect was that Logan was now incredibly hung, sporting a cock that would have been the envy of even the largest of male pornstars.

When the young guy jabbed a long needle into his balls, stars exploded in his head and he almost passed out. Seiji managed to steady him in time, though, and held him up until his vision cleared and the throbbing pain in his testicles abated. Whatever drug was in the syringe worked quickly because he goggled as his already man-sized balls swelled even further, hanging nearly down his knees and rivaling ripe oranges in size.

Seiji stepped back to survey his work, nodding with approval at what he saw. “Yep, my ole man’s a fuckin’ genius alright,” he murmured, cocking his head at Logan’s greatly expanded and enhanced equipment. “He spent years perfecting this shit. Yer gonna be the best fuckin’ himbo in town!”

Logan was speechless, more because the rush of blood in his ears made it difficult for him to concentrate. In shock, he wiggled his hips and gaped at the behemoth lolling like a soporific anaconda between his legs. And his balls were so heavy! Shit, they made him fucking bowlegged!

“Now for that ass and body hair,” Seiji said, slipping behind him to jab yet another pair of syringes into his buttocks. “That,” he commented as he emptied the first syringe deep inside Logan’s ass muscle, “is a steroid developed exclusively by my dad,” he explained. “It’ll build muscle back there and has the added benefit of coaxing the fat in other parts of yer body to migrate to your ass cheeks.” He reached up to pinch the sizable spare tire that Logan sported around his middle. “Yer gonna have killer abs in no time, bro. Just watch!”

What happened next left Logan even more stupefied than all of the other changes he’d witnessed so far. First, a vibration spread outward from his buttocks, causing his body to thrum. The strange sensation quickly coalesced around his belly. He convulsed, doubling over and clutching his stomach as the vibration turned into a severe cramping. The pain abated almost as soon as it began, though, and he straightened, inhaling in disbelief as he watched his big, proud football linebacker belly liquefy and leach away. The fat beneath his skin drained out and he could feel it trickle downward to pool around his buttocks. He looked over his shoulder in time to see the liquefied fat gel and reform, pulling in on itself before inflating both of his hairy ass cheeks. They plumped and swelled, pushing backward into a perfect bubble that still retained a certain muscular blockiness.

Logan Harris had a bubble butt!

His ass had always been substantial but now it verged on obscene. He flushed as he realized that it was now so huge that he would never be able to conceal it. For the rest of his life, his butt would be the one part of him that everyone noticed…well, not exactly, he thought with embarrassment. His butt was matched only by his magnificently swollen junk. 

He hung his head. From now on, it didn’t matter whether he was facing toward or away from someone. Either way, they couldn’t fail to notice his freakish endowment or juicy bubble butt.

He was fuckin’ ruined!

“And now those pubes, pits and crack,” Sieji said, startling Logan out of the morass of his humiliation. 

Unable to do anything but stand there helplessly, he watched the young guy pull on a pair of latex gloves and squeeze a black lotion onto his palms. He rubbed them together then stalked behind Logan, instructing him to raise his arms and spread his legs. He did so woodenly–somehow the idea to resist never occurred to him–and Seiji smeared the pungent gel onto his armpits and into the cleft of his ass. Squeezing more into his hands, he finished by caking it all over Logan’s dark brown pubes.

Almost immediately, the air was filled with the acrid odor of burning hair but rather than burning away his hair, Logan was shocked to see it had the opposite effect. His butt crack, armpits, and pubes started crackling and itching as his short hairs thickened and coarsened, growing ever denser and kinkier until he looked like he was sporting a thicket of black Brillo pads under each arm and over his giant, dangling cock. He could tell the situation was equally dire behind as the hair in his crack grew curly and scratchy, irritating his tender manhole. By the time Seiji wiped the gloppy gel away, Logan’s man zones had sprouted like an odiferous forest and the ripe scent of man musk filled his nostrils.

Inhaling deeply, Seiji laughed, “Ahh, himbo pheromones! Nothing quite like it. Yer gonna have the guys beating down yer door–yer back door, that is–from now on whenever you go out. Get used to being in demand!”

Logan nodded dazedly. Nothing really computed anymore. He could only stand there dumbly looking down at himself. The skin around his formerly round belly was tightening, pulling backward to reveal abdominal muscles he hadn’t seen in years. His waist thinned and his muscles rippled under the pelt of hair carpeting his stomach. His newly narrowed hips served to accentuate his thighs; they looked hulking now and even hairier than he remembered. And, of course, there was the alien appendage that had once been his precious cock and balls. Now capped with an explosion of black pubes, it hung ridiculously fat and girthy over the heaviest pair of testicles Logan could imagine.

When he looked up and took in his sly, boyish face and doe eyes, he felt disoriented. A guy was never supposed to look like this: Hypermasculine and seductively innocent at the same time. A boy’s face on a man’s body. And then there was his huge, new ass pushing out like two ripe melons behind him. He could feel its new heft and the way his cheeks swayed with the smallest movement. He grimaced, looking back at it. While really big, it was different from Trent’s massive girly butt. No, this was too hairy and bulky to be considered feminine but it wasn’t exactly manly, either. Men didn’t have asses like this!

Seiji had pulled out the clippers and was trimming his furry chest and stomach. He was careful to leave plenty of hair but cut it short enough to accentuate his muscles. He left Logan’s bush, ass, and armpits alone, though, saying he didn’t want anything to interfere with his musk production. “Make sure not to shower too much or wear deodorant,” he advised. “You don’t wanna do anything to take away yer himbo scent.”

Logan nodded dumbly. What else could he do?

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

“And let’s do sumthin’ ‘bout those nips of yers. They’re way too small for a himbo!”

Nips? Did he mean nipples? Logan looked down at his chest where his tiny nipples barely poked out of the thick hair carpeting his pecs. Seiji brandished a tiny vial of ointment before popping the cork and dabbing it carefully around each nipple. The scent was heady and rich, not unlike the musky scent emanating from his pits, crotch, and ass. His sensitive skin tingled as Seiji rubbed it in but it wasn’t unpleasant. He had almost started to relax when the young guy pulled out two suction cups and clapped them over each of his nipples. When Seiji pulled back on a tiny lever, the cups grabbed on, sucking his little pert nipples inside with a small pop. Logan’s eyes rolled back in his head as the suction grew stronger, pulling his entire areola inside and stretching them fiercely with an ever increasing vacuum. Just when he was about to cry out in pain, though, Seiji released the suction and popped off both suction cups.

“Presto!” he said proudly. “Man tits.”

Logan’s tongue stuck in his mouth. His tiny nipples had swollen and grown, depending from his chest like a pair of bullets. And his areolas! Shit, what the fuck?! They were huge! Bigger than silver dollars and the skin was dark chestnut brown. He lifted his head and gaped at his reflection in the mirror. There was no mistaking it. He now had a serious pair of tits!

He hung his head, unable to stomach the sight. Why was this happening to him? Why was he letting Seiji ruin his body like this?

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

The mantra had an instant steadying effect on him. He didn’t know why but it soothed him and he relaxed. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. This was the Himbo Challenge after all. If he was going to win it, he needed to do his very best to excel. And that meant saying yes to whatever was required of him. He was gonna be the best fuckin’ himbo on campus!

He didn’t have much time to relax, though, because Seiji was already moving on.

“One last thing before we get ya get dressed,” the young guy announced, holding up another syringe. Logan flinched (Not another fuckin’ syringe!) and Seiji smiled deviously. “Yer hole, dude. A vers himbo’s gotta have a tight hole no matter what. This stuff’ll turn ya into a perpetual ass virgin.” 

(Ass virgin? Huh?) 

Logan’s mind blanked. Well, Ok, it already was pretty blank but it emptied even further as fear turned it into a vacuous wasteland. Nothing Seiji was saying made any sense but he was too far gone and the blood pounding in his ears was too insistent for him to argue. Dumbly, he allowed Seiji to bend him over and he reached back and spread his massively fat ass cheeks wide open when prompted. The syringe jabbed into his tender manbud suddenly and he winced but soon it was over and he could feel his sphincter contracting. Just as Seiji had predicted, he now possessed the tightest of tight holes.

Seiji completed the session by laying out a bunch of new clothes for him, saying, “This is yer himbo wardrobe. Don’t ever wear anything else.”

Logan swallowed, taking in the colorful pairs of mesh shorts, tank tops, midriff-baring t-shirts, tube socks, and jockstraps. Tossing down several pairs of Converse All Stars, Seiji motioned for him to get dressed. The blood rushing in Logan’s ears increased and his breathing became shallow as he reached out and picked up a jockstrap and bent over, stepping into it. The pouch was huge but even so just barely accommodated his mutant package. And the straps strained against his burgeoning ass cheeks. Seiji nodded approvingly and Logan selected a pair of red shorts, frowning when tugged them on and realized they were barely decent. In front, his monster endowment jutted significantly before him, his newly-grown and incredibly dense thicket of pubes pouring over the top of the jock. A glance behind confirmed his worst fears: The thick waistband of the jock and a generous portion of his perky cheeks peeked out the top of the shorts while his hairy ass hung out the bottom, framed perfectly by the straps of the jock.

He stared pleadingly at Seiji but the young guy merely nodded, smiling. “Yeah, that’s it. One hundred percent versatile himbo right there!”

Logan sighed and pulled on a crop-top that was designed to look like a football jersey, although no football player in his right mind would ever wear such a garment. It was tight across the chest and his huge tits poked out salaciously against the material, obvious to anyone who saw him. He wanted to tear it off and throw it away but there was no stopping him and he continued dressing in the embarrassing outfit. Soon he was wearing white tube socks with bright red bands that pulled up to his knees and a pair of red tennis shoes, too. Seiji pronounced him done when he placed a Chicago Cubs ball cap backward on his head and tilted it slightly askew.

He turned Logan toward the mirror and he balked at the overly hung, hairy muscle boy-man staring back at him. His jock-encased bulge thrust out luridly against the mesh shorts, made all the more obvious by his huge bull balls. Everything about him screamed hypersexed; it was like his body had been remade before his eyes. He was now a gay fantasy of a jock, not a serious football player with a future in the NFL. How could he even show himself at practice looking like this?

“I’d say the first part of yer himbo challenge is done,” Seiji announced, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yer ready for part two, Himbo Training.” As Logan’s thick head struggled to understand what that meant, Seiji handed him a business card, saying, “Be at this gym tomorrow at 4pm but make sure to listen to the next episode in the himbo podcast first.”

***

Chapter 5

Trent and Dr. Isao were finishing up when Seiji led him over before taking his leave. Patting Logan on the back, he whispered, “Go get ‘em, Himbo!” and saunted off without a backward glance. 

The doctor and Trent were so engrossed in what they were discussing that neither took notice of him. Logan didn’t know whether to feel relieved or offended and realized he felt both. Part of him wanted to die of shame. He felt completely ridiculous in this new bizarrely distorted body that had only minutes ago been a source of so much pride. He loved his big, beefy football player body! Shit, he even loved his big belly! It made him feel like a real man. Solid, powerful, strong.

Now, though…

Shit, now he didn’t know what he was. His head was swimming and his thoughts were turbid. The blood rushing through his ears was both distracting and soothing. Like it was telling him something, whispering words that he could barely understand but yet reassured him in some way. 

He took a deep breath and looked down at himself. What if this was who he was meant to be all along? In a way, Seiji’s ministrations had only served to enhance his body, bringing out the potential that had always been there but had never fully been expressed. He puffed out his chest and looked at his impressive pecs and the big, erect nipples tenting out the front of his cut-off jersey. His abs were striated. His hips were narrow and his waist was wide. His thick, bushy pubes served to draw attention down to the immensity of his bulge stretching out the mesh shorts. And then there were his beefy, hairy thighs and huge calves. Not to mention the truly man-sized ass cheeks hanging off the back of him like twin, furry boulders. 

He sucked on his pillowy lips, realizing he kind of liked the softness. His lips had been rather thin before. Maybe he hadn’t known what he’d been missing? Was it really so bad having kissable lips?

Reaching up to scratch idly at his armpit, he marveled at the profusion of dense hair spilling out from under his arm and filling the air with his rich, musky scent. He lowered his hand and, glancing over to make sure neither Trent nor Dr. Isao was watching, he cupped his big ass cheeks, lifting them up and then dropping them. Their incredible heft sent shockwaves through his body and he was surprised to find himself smiling. Fishing a finger under the waistband of his jock, he twirled it around, grinning with satisfaction at the thick, kinky hairy filling up his crack. Shit, if you were gonna have a huge man ass, you might as well have lots of fur, too, right?

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t as awful as he thought? With some work, he might even grow to like his new body. Anything was possible!

(A himbo sez yes to everything!)

He smiled to himself and straightened his shoulders, turning away from the mirror. He felt a bit better.

“…will dissolve the erectile tissue completely. Is that what you really want?” Dr. Isao was saying as he looked down at Trent’s crotch. Trent was still butt-naked with their back turned to Logan. They nodded at the doctor’s words and whispered something that Logan couldn’t quite make out. Curious, Logan edged closer, grimacing when he felt his inflated ass cheeks sway heavily from side to side with the movement. (This is gonna take some getting used to! I hope I can still run on the football field!)

Logan was close enough to feel the heat emanating from Trent’s body and he felt an unfamiliar urge wash over him as the rushing in his ears grew louder. His gaze was so riveted on that huge, soft, silky smooth ass that he didn’t want to look away but then he caught a glimpse from the side of Trent’s pubes and he halted, jaw falling open.

Dr. Isao had bent down and was inserting a needle into Trent’s shrunken member. It was barely a pale shadow of its former glory as Logan’s mind inadvertently filled with images of his bro’s huge schlong from before their transformation to a sissy boi. He’d always tried to look away when Trent strutted around the locker room but couldn’t resist sneaking a quick peek at his friend’s massive tool. It had been incredibly long and fat, maybe not as fat as the crazy sausage Logan now had dangling between his legs, but it was easily a good ten inches flaccid. He didn’t like to admit it but part of Logan’s pride in his friendship with Trent was knowing that his best bro was super hung. It made Trent even more of a superstar in Logan’s mind, imbuing him with godlike status. Trent Davies was a fuckin’ god!

Or he had been.

Now Trent was no longer a ‘he’ but a ‘they’ and now their cock was only a meager four or five inches and very skinny, drooping down listlessly over their completely empty nutsac. Logan guessed it had shrunk due to the fact that Trent was only taking a small dose of testosterone but even so he judged it was still a little bigger than an average flaccid cock. (Not that he was an expert or anything!)

Not for long, though!

Logan stared in shock as the mysterious liquid in the doctor’s syringe worked its way into Trent’s penis and triggered an almost instantaneous effect. Before his eyes, Trent’s dick convulsed and pulled in on itself, shrinking even further. Logan’s mouth went dry. He willed himself to look away but couldn’t. Beside him, Trent whimpered in pain and Logan had to fight the urge to reach over and shake them, demanding to know why they would do this to themselves. He didn’t move, though, and continued watching as Trent’s dick shortened from five to four to three to two and finally to one inch while shriveling from forefinger to pinky to pencil size in girth. Trent sucked in their lips and chewed, tears streaming down their cheeks as their cock disappeared, becoming ever smaller until it was micro-sized and would have been tiny even on an infant. 

When it was complete, Trent’s penis was basically gone and they sported only a meager flap of skin depending over their empty sac. It was shocking to Logan and he felt his gorge rise in his throat, only belatedly becoming aware that his monster cock had awakened in its confining pouch and was threatening to burst free. He flushed, reaching down to hold it in, almost recoiling in horror when his hand touched the enormously swollen beast. (How the fuck can that belong to me?!) He was forced to admit that, as revolting as it was to watch his friend’s dick shrivel up to nothing, it also turned him on to no end and he had to exert Herculean will to stop himself from peeling down the waistband of his jock and letting his monstrosity flop free. He wanted to beat off in the worst way!

“It’s gone,” Trent murmured dazedly, staring down at their crotch. “I can’t believe it’s really gone.”

Dr. Isao nodded thoughtfully. “Are you sure you made the right decision, Mx. Davies?”

Trent hesitated a moment, considering the question. Then they brushed the tears out of their eyes and took a shuddering breath, answering, “Yeah, it feels right. I hated my dick.”

Logan didn’t realize the strangled sound was coming from his own mouth until Trent turned and saw him for the first time. His friend’s eyes went briefly round before their lips curled into a warm smile and they exclaimed, “Logan, you…you look…I mean, wow! You’re amazing!” 

Logan watched as Trent’s nose twitched at his musky aroma and soon they were clapping their hands and jumping up and down, treating Logan to an incredibly titillating show of those beautiful, voluptuous ass cheeks bouncing and jiggling with wild abandon. He had to close his eyes and chew the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from shooting a load right there.

Trent’s arms were around him and his friend was hugging him tightly. Stunned at first, Logan finally reciprocated and pulled Trent against him. He was careful to keep the little dude (was he still a dude?) from touching his groin area, though, because he didn’t trust himself. If he didn’t jack off soon, he was going to explode!

“Congratulations to you both!” Dr. Isao was saying behind them. “My clients never leave unsatisfied.”

***

Chapter 6

Logan was in a haze the whole way back to the apartment. He didn’t notice that heads turned whenever he went or how even the straight dudes who passed by turned to stare at him. Pretending to be disdainful, they nonetheless couldn’t stop from watching him and feeling a disturbing sensation wash over them. When the potent odor of his musk touched their nostrils, they became glassy-eyed and their vision fogged. Any taunt or rude comment they may have been tempted to hurl at him died on their tongues….and they were hooked. It was the himbo curse. Or was it a blessing?

Only when he had locked himself in his room and was presented with the nearly insurmountable challenge of jacking his ridiculously bloated cock did the reality of his situation dawn on him. How the fuck was he supposed to manhandle a club like this? He could barely get his hands around the base of his stump! He felt a wave of disorientation wash over him as he watched the behemoth begin to grow and swell as he became erect, making it even more difficult to wrap his hands around.

It took an hour but he finally managed to jack himself to a mind-numbing climax. He roared as cum gushed out of his firehose, drenching his face, chest, and most of his room with torrents of jizz. He collapsed onto his knees, clutching his throbbing fuck-cannon and moaning with a mixture of disbelief and pride as his pendulous balls contracted. More jets of cum splattered his face and filled his mouth. He swallowed, surprised that he actually enjoyed the bitter saltiness of his seed. He’d never tasted his cum before!

When his giant was finally quiescent between his legs, he sagged back on his generous buttocks and stared down at his naked body with renewed wonder. Yeah, so maybe he looked freaky but the crazy, mind-blowing ecstasy of that fuckin’ orgasm was totally worth it! He smiled proudly as his new pet anaconda slumped down over his overripe balls.

The volcanic climax left him spent but happy. He only stirred when his drying cum started to glue his huge butt cheeks to the floor. And then it took him forever to scrub himself and his room clean. By the time he was done, the odor of his man musk saturating the bedroom was overpowering and he staggered to his feet and grabbed his towel. Time for a shower!

Trent was nowhere to be seen when he emerged from his room. He shuffled into the bathroom, realizing the alien weight of his butt and junk were going to take some getting used to. He didn’t mind too much, though, and soon was happily washing himself off (without soap per Seiji’s instructions) in the warm shower.

When he exited the bathroom, the sun was setting, staining the small living room area in the apartment golden red. Much to his consternation, his towel was too small to wrap around his ass and he clutched at it, feeling the cool air caress his bare cheeks. He blushed and scurried into his room when he noticed Trent sitting on the sofa, party to the full view of his big butt hanging out the back of his towel. His friend only smiled wanly at the sight, though, something that Logan found slightly irritating. What was the point in having a giant ass if no one looked at it?

After a thorough search of his wardrobe–he refused to wear the ridiculous clothes Seiji had given him back at the clinic–he managed to find a pair of shorts big enough to handle his increased proportions and squeezed into them, adjusting his package with difficulty to keep it from flopping out through a leg hole. The shorts clung to his butt, leaving nothing to the imagination, but Logan didn’t care too much. He was starting to get the hang of this new body and kind of liked it.

A few minutes later, he strode proudly out of his bedroom and was heading to the fridge for a beer when he heard sniffling. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Trent was crying. Taking a deep breath, he extracted a Bud Light and cracked open the can before pacing over to the sofa.

Trent looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes when he settled down next to them. Pretending to be nonchalant, Logan took a sip of his beer and swallowed. “What’s wrong, bud?” 

“Do you think I’m a freak, Logan? I mean, you said yourself that a guy without balls is a freak. And now I don’t even have a dick anymore.”

Logan took another swig of his beer and swished it around thoughtfully as he spread his legs wider to accommodate his inflated junk. He didn’t know why but it took an abnormal amount of effort to think. His mind felt sluggish and he was having trouble remembering anything. Had he really told Trent they were a freak? Finally, he realized he had to say something fast or Trent was going to be mad so he grunted, “Uh, well, ya know, it is sorta weird what ya did to yerself but, uh, nah, I don’t think yer a freak. A little weird, maybe. But not a freak.”

His answer seemed to mollify Trent slightly because they relaxed next to him. Smiling over at him, Trent said, “Thank you, Logan. I know I can always count on you to be straight with me. You’re a good friend.”

For some reason, Logan flushed, feeling his pulse pound in his ears with this praise. He smiled slowly, his face breaking into a goofy grin. He was about to reply when he noticed something: Trent was wearing only a low-cut top and a bright fuschia pair of string panties. The microscopic underwear made their missing junk even more obvious. Logan stared at his friend’s empty crotch and the way their soft, smooth belly draped over their pubes and hips. Their chest was clearly outlined by the tight top. Whoa, Logan thought, Trent’s growing titties!

That was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration but it was true that Trent’s muscular chest was gone. It had softened and they’d developed a small amount of breast tissue due to their lower level of male hormones. So, not exactly breasts but not the square, rock-solid chest that Logan was accustomed to seeing on his friend.

The silence between them grew as Logan became mesmerized by Trent’s new body. For their part, Trent didn’t seem to notice his scrutiny because right then their phone buzzed and they lifted it to read a text. Logan shifted, realizing his crotch was beginning to pinch because he was getting hard. What the fuck is wrong with me? he wondered, reaching to grab a pillow and place it protectively over his swelling junk.

Just then, Trent stifled a sob and threw their phone across the room before burying their face in their hands.

Logan shook himself. “Hey, bud! What’s wrong? Why’re ya so upset?”

Trent refused to answer and Logan sat there, frantically trying to jumpstart his brain. He knew he needed to do something but it was hard to concentrate on anything but his throbbing erection. Finally, though, he managed to force his attention away from his crotch and, hoping furiously he was doing the right thing, draped an arm over Trent’s narrow shoulders. He expected his friend to shake it off but was pleasantly surprised when they leaned against him, turning their face and burrowing into his armpit. Logan’s heart swelled nearly as large as his giant cock and he tightened his hold on his friend, leaning down to plant a kiss on top of their head. Trent’s hair smelled fresh, almost flowery, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent.

They sat in silence like that for hours, the sunlight dimming and the shadows growing as night descended on the apartment. Logan was unaware of anything besides the warmth of his best friend pressing against him and their softly beating heart. He felt content in a way he’d never imagined feeling before, especially not with his best bro. Man, he fuckin’ loved Trent Davies this way! It was hard to believe he’d ever preferred them any other way.

***

Logan awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. He stumbled into his bedroom at some point during the night and had fallen asleep in a wad of blankets. He stirred, squinting in the morning light pouring through his window and smiled. He’d never felt so happy or so alive!

The feeling only grew stronger after he listened to the next episode of the Himbo Challenge. Just like before, he zoned out as soon as he pressed play but awoke at the end, hearing the barely audible refrain echo through his increasingly empty head. He couldn’t understand the words but it didn’t matter; the sound was reassuring and he knew everything was right with the world. He was a vers himbo! What more could a guy want?

Trent was still asleep when he got dressed, putting on a faux baseball jersey Seiji had given him that read ‘Pitcher’ on the front and ‘Catcher’ on the back. Logan had no idea why the jersey would list two different positions but he liked the way it set off his beefy arms and impressive chest. He left it unbuttoned, allowing his furry chest and pecs to peek out. Squeezing into a jock and a pair of blue, skin tight shorts proved more difficult but Logan wasn’t a quitter and he didn’t give up until he’d forced his huge bubble butt and man-sized package inside. Donning knee-high socks and trainers, he inspected himself with satisfaction in the mirror. He was on the way out of the door when he realized he’d forgotten his baseball cap and slapped it on backwards, tilting it at a jaunty angle and grinning to himself. He felt so damned good!

His good mood only improved as the morning progressed. Everyone was so friendly! He’d never experienced so much positive attention before. Wherever he went, guys went out of their way to make eye contact with him, greeting him in the most friendly manner and complimenting him on his clothing choices. Most would emphasize their appreciation by patting him on the butt or fondling his crotch. At first, this intimate touching threw him but he quickly realized it was only meant to demonstrate affection. Soon, he found himself responding in kind; after all it seemed only polite to return the gesture.

The barista at Starbucks insisted on paying for his mocha, telling him that he could have all the cream he wanted for free, too. Logan grinned as the dude reached out and pinched his cheek. And then there was the guy at the sporting goods store where Logan went on his quest to find a new cup. Like most football players these days, he didn’t normally feel the need to wear a cup but now realized that it was necessary equipment, given his greatly increased package. The problem was that none of the cups on display in the store were big enough for him.

“May I help you, sir?”

He turned to find a tall young guy smiling at his shoulder. Logan felt embarrassed at being caught studying cups so openly but relaxed when the dude put a reassuring hand on his arm. The guy took a breath, going slightly glassy-eyed as he inhaled. Logan opened his mouth, trying to find a way to verbalize his conundrum. After struggling for a while (Why was it so hard to think?), he managed to stammer,  “Uh, I mean, yeah, bud. I do need help. I, ya know, got a problem with my junk.” When the young guy looked at him blankly, he glanced down at his giant bulge, clarifying, “It’s too big to fit in these tiny things!”

The young guy’s mouth was hanging open and there was a long pause before he shook himself and cleared his throat, offering, “Don’t worry! I can help you with that.” And before Logan knew what was happening, the dude had guided him into one of the stalls in the changing room and proceeded to undress him.

At first, Logan protested but the guy just laughed and assured him that undressing his clients was just one way he provided top-notch customer service. Logan smiled, realizing that made sense, and allowed the dude to strip him bare. As he stood there butt-naked, he became embarrassed when his cock started to stand up but the young guy was already on it. Literally. In no time, he was helping Logan out by jacking his giant to an explosive climax that had him spewing cum all over the place.

“I, uh, whoa! I mean, uh, sorry!” Logan stammered, looking down with chagrin at the puddles of cum on the floor. His embarrassment was magnified by shame as he slowly awakened to what he’d just done.

For some reason, the young dude didn’t seem concerned and waved off Logan’s apology. (Despite his attempts to deny his feelings, Logan had to admit the guy was super cute. He had the prettiest brown eyes and thickest black hair.) Winking slyly, the guy soothed, “No problem, man! I couldn’t measure you for a custom-sized cup when you were hard anyway.” He paused, dropping Logan’s dripping member reluctantly to shake his hand, adding, “I’m Sanjay, by the way.” 

Logan returned the handshake, pondering Sanjay’s words as he did so. At first, he was bothered because it seemed weird for a retail sales associate to undress and jack him off but the more he thought about it, the more he had to admit that Sanjay’s explanation made sense: How indeed could he be measured for a cup if he had a hardon? He grinned at his stupidity and was preparing to get dressed when Sanjay shocked him by dropping to his hands and knees and licking the floor clean of every last drop of Logan’s spilled jizz. Now here was a level of customer service he’d never encountered before!

It took awhile (Sanjay had to use a 3-D printer to make several cups that fit him) but Logan left the store carrying a pack of extra-large cups and jocks. Before he went, Sanjay tucked his cell phone number into Logan’s back pocket, patting his big ass and telling him to call him up later for another ‘fitting session.’

***

Logan was a few minutes late for football practice and entered the locker room after most of his teammates were out on the field. He was surprised to find Trent still at their locker, flanked by the quarterback, Ted Markel, and the center, Tobias Evans. He groaned inwardly. Ted and Tobias were his least favorite members of the team.

Tall, broad-shouldered and extremely lean, the quarterback, Ted Markel, was also incredibly smart. He was fond of telling anyone who would listen that he would have made it into Harvard if only he’d been black or Latino. (“This is bullshit. Everyone knows that whites are the new blacks,” he’d mutter under his breath when Coach Spinner lectured the team about the importance of diversity, equity and inclusion.) Despite his complaining, Ted didn’t seem to have suffered much due to the ‘liability’ of his race. He was the undisputed big man on campus, holding the chair of student government and serving as president of his fraternity. With his wholesome good looks, icy blue eyes and thick blond hair, he was in demand for his stud services, too. Logan had never seen him without a babe on each arm when he strutted across the diag between classes.

The center, Tobias Evans, shared Ted’s imperious attitude but he was less concerned with his looks and intelligence than his status as alpha male. He worked out religiously and sported enormous muscles as a result. A member of the campus ROTC, he was slated for officer training in the Marines after graduation and had the lantern jaw and buzzed hair to show for it. His favorite insult was to call the other guys ‘pussies’ and it was well known that he’d been accused of sexual assault more than once. Somehow, though, his accusers always ended up dropping their charges, perhaps due to the fact Tobias’ father was a lawyer. Standing over six and half feet tall, even Logan admitted that he found the dude intimidating…and handsome. There was something about his chiseled features, chestnut hair, golden eyes and cleft chin that even the most heterosexual of guys found appealing. This comeliness was so seductive that it somehow helped to blunt the full force of his bullying.

That bullying was on full display when Logan approached the trio. Tobias’ beefy arms were crossed and his face was twisted in a sneer as loomed over Trent, spitting, “Is that lipstick, dude? Are you fuckin’ wearin’ makeup now?”

Beside him, Ted snorted, “‘Diversity camp’?! More like freak camp if you ask me. They turned you into a freakin’ faggot, Davies!”

Trent looked from one to the other, seemingly unconcerned, pursing their lips (which did look unusually red in Logan’s estimation) and rolling their eyes. They were opening their mouth to respond when Coach Spinner’s voice boomed out from the back.

“Evans! Markel! How come yer the only two guys on the team who haven’t signed up for a DEI course yet?”

Logan turned to find the coach glowering behind him. Spinner ignored him, though, and instead fixed his burning gaze upon the hapless quarterback and center. Logan watched with satisfaction as Ted and Tobias blanched and backed away from Trent like a couple of scolded pups.

Ted was the first to speak. Clearing his throat, he sounded decidedly meek as he said, “Er, yeah, sorry about that, Coach! I’ll make sure to sign up today.” Beside him, Tobias nodded, too ashamed to meet Coach Spinner’s gaze. 

The coach smiled coldly, grunting, “Make sure that you do.” He paused as if daring the pair to challenge him. When they remained mute, he concluded, “Now get yer asses out on the field. There’s a practice goin’ on!”

It was almost amusing watching the arrogant jocks scramble to get out of the locker room as fast as possible and within a few seconds Logan and Trent were alone with the coach. Rather than scolding them as well, though, he gave Trent an encouraging smile, asking lightly, “Is that cherry red, Davies?” He shook his head appreciatively, adding, “One of my favorite shades of lipstick. You sure got good taste.”

***

Chapter 7

Football practice turned out to be a whole new experience for Logan who quickly found himself the center of everyone’s attention. The guys were all over him, cheering him, patting him on the butt, grabbing his crotch, and otherwise showing how much they valued and appreciated him. At first, he was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of masculine affection coming his way but he soon learned to go with it and gave as much affection as he got. He grew to love the physical closeness, pressing together with a bunch of hot, sweaty guys. The man smells, the dirt, the tackles, the play fighting, the way everyone always seemed to be on top of him…Ungh! It was great fun and he was glowing with happiness when it was over. He was part of the best goddamned team in the world!

He was in such a pleasant daze that he didn’t notice the water boy–Er, I mean sports medicine intern, Logan corrected himself mentally–Alejo Céspedes, until he was right at his shoulder.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Harris?” the boy asked, looking up at him with an expression of pure adulation. “I was wonderin’ if I could, um, you know, ask a favor?”

Logan smiled, noticing how cute Alejo looked that day. Dressed in sweats and a team jersey that was too big for him, the boy had slicked back his straight, black hair. A dusting of whiskers graced his chin and cheeks, setting off his big, brown eyes. Yeah, super cute, Logan thought, wondering why he’d never noticed this before. Batting the boy playfully on the arm, he said, “‘Course I’ll help ya but only if ya call me ‘Logan’ and not Mr. Harris.” Alejo looked down abashed. When he lifted his head again, though, he was smiling. He opened his mouth but then froze, cheeks reddening, until Logan prompted, “Whatcha wanna ask me, bro?” Alejo swallowed, casting a nervous glance at the other players. Even though Logan was pretty dense, he instinctively understood that the kid was too self-conscious to ask his question in front of the team and pulled him aside. 

They were standing just outside the entrance to the locker room and the late morning sun was pleasantly warm on their shoulders. Logan had his helmet slung under one arm and scratched idly at an armpit while he waited for Alejo to speak. Overhead, puffy clouds billowed and the breeze carried with it the hint of late afternoon rain. Logan watched the clouds drift by, lifting his fingers absently to sniff his musky scent. Inhaling deeply, he leaned against a nearby tackle pad before reaching down to reposition his pinching cup. Beside him, Alejo’s gaze followed the movement, eyes going round.

When he was certain the rest of the guys were out of earshot, Logan asked, “Now what’d ya wanna ask me?”

For a moment, Alejo appeared as if he was going to bolt but then steadied himself, taking a deep breath and plunging ahead. “Me an’ Kofi were wonderin’ if you’d, um, ya know, show us some of yer moves.”

“Show ya my moves?” Logan repeated, taking a moment for this sink into his thick head. When he understood, he grinned, exclaiming, “Fuck, yeah! I’d be fuckin’ happy to show ya my moves! Why the fuck were ya so ‘barrassed to ask me?”

Alejo looked off the side. “Um, you know…Yer one of the players an’ Coach sez we’re not ‘sposed to–”

Logan laughed, reaching down to muss the kid’s hair, soothing, “Aw, dontcha worry ‘bout it, Alejo! I won’t tell him. Ya know I’m always happy to help ya out. When’d ya wanna do it?”

Alejo beamed at these words and even leaned into Logan’s hand a little before pulling away. When he spoke again, Logan noticed his eyes were slightly unfocused. “Um, I was hopin’ we could do it, uh…” His voice trailed off before he hurriedly added, “NOW!”

Logan blinked. “Right now?” Alejo nodded, looking up hopefully and Logan paused, considering. It was only noon and he didn’t have anything on his schedule until 4pm when he had that appointment at the gym downtown with Seiji. His stomach was grumbling with hunger but he figured he had a good hour before he really needed to eat. Plus, Alejo looked so eager; it seemed a shame to say no to the kid. Finally, he shrugged his big shoulders, saying, “Sure, why not? Let’s do it!”

Alejo let out a loud whoop, surprising Logan by slapping him so hard on the ass the sound echoed across the practice field. When Logan looked up from rubbing his stinging butt cheek, Kofi Stevens, the other sports medicine intern, had appeared at his elbow. He gave Alejo a high five and both boys were grinning. They turned their gazes toward Logan and for some reason he found himself flushing red in the intensity of their gaze. A moment later, though, the intensity was gone and Kofi and Alejo were back to their usual awkward and somewhat goofy selves. Logan shrugged, thinking he must have imagined it.

***

“Can I stop now?” Logan complained. “I thought ya wanted me to show ya some moves not do jumpin’ jacks all day!”

He was drenched in sweat. The boys had made him do so many jumping jacks that his butt and crotch were sore from all the bouncing.  While he grunted and sweated, the pair watched from the shaded sidelines, feet propped up on a cooler, sipping energy drink. Logan was still dressed in his full gear including his helmet, shoulder and hip pads and felt like he was going to pass out from hunger and heat.

In response to his plaintive plea, Alejo stood up and placed his hands on his hips, yelling, “DID I TELL YOU TO STOP? DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY!”

He sounded so fierce that Logan had already dropped and commenced doing push-ups before it even occurred to him to question the fact that a sixteen-year-old boy was ordering him around. He stopped mid push-up, looking up to find Alejo and Kofi standing over him, laughing. He grimaced and propped himself up on his knees, gratefully accepting the Gatorade and energy bar that Kofi handed him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, dude,” the kid said, still giggling. “We just wanted to make sure you was warmed up.”

Tearing off his helmet, Logan devoured the bar and gulped down the beverage, tossing the wrapper and empty container aside.  “I already was warmed up, man!” he protested, shaking the sweat out of his hair. He was still smarting at letting a couple of boys boss him around.

“Yeah, I can see how hot and sweaty you are,” Kofi murmured, extending his hand to pull Logan up. “You need to cool off.”

Logan stood and was brushing himself off when Korfi startled him by reaching out and unlacing his pants. Behind him, Alejo had jumped up on the cooler and was tugging Logan’s practice jersey over his head. Within moments, he was standing there nearly naked, dressed only in his cleats, hip pads, jock and shoulder pads. He stared down at himself in disbelief as the boys tossed his clothing onto the sidelines.

Looking around wildly, he protested, “But I could be a-a-a–” his voice broke off as he struggled to find the word before finally settling on, “‘rested!”

“Relax, bro,” Kofi said, the essence of nonchalance. “There’s nobody out here but us!”

“But–”

“It’ll be fine,” Alejo whispered in his ear. “No one’s gonna notice. ‘Sides, yer not naked. Ya still got on yer cup and pads!”

Logan opened his mouth to reply but realized the boy was right; he wasn’t completely naked. And the football practice field was empty. They were the only three people in sight.

Seeing Logan waver, Kofi cajoled, “C’mon, dude! Trust yer sports medicine interns to look after ya. We’re just tryna keep ya cool so ya don’t get heatstroke!”

Logan thought about this, realizing it made sense. If he couldn’t trust the interns, who could he trust? He lowered his shoulders, relaxing. When Alejo put a hand on his shoulder and guided him over to the zero yard line, he didn’t resist.

“I think we’re ready for ya to show us yer moves,” the boy said. “Aren’t we, Kofi?”

***

A few seconds later, Logan stopped in confusion when the boys tried to guide him into a position on the offensive line, handing him the football and ordering him to bend over. “But, guys,” he protested, “I’m a defensive linebacker, not a center!”

“Just shut up and bend over,” Kofi ordered behind him, taking up the quarterback’s position. “Get ready to snap the ball to me. And don’t let Alejo sack me before I get a chance to throw!”

“But–”

“Listen, Harris,” Kofi growled. “Yer not a quitter, are ya?”

“Hell, no!”

“Then do what yer fuckin’ told!”

He put his hand on Logan’s back and pushed him forward until his butt was sticking up in the air. Still confused, Logan accepted the football from Alejo and placed it on the ground beneath him. He’d never played center before but he knew the basics and spread his knees wide, pushing his ass backward and leveraging the ball for a powerful snap.

Behind him, Kofi knelt forward and edged closer, so close that Logan could feel twin puffs of air from his nostrils on his ass. And then…

“Hey! What’re ya doing back there?” Logan demanded when he felt something soft and wet caress his butt crack. He looked over his shoulder to find Kofi pressing in so close his face was buried in his ass.

Kofi’s reply was so muffled that Logan could barely understand him. “What the fuck do ya think I’m doin’? I’m tastin’ yer sweat, tryna tell if yer dehydrated. Now hold still and spread those legs wider!”

What? Logan wondered, thoroughly confused by this answer. He’d never heard of tasting someone’s sweat before, much less in the crack of their ass. But, then again, Kofi was a sports medicine intern and obviously knew more about these sorts of things than he did. He shook his head, complying when Kofi reached up to spread his ass cheeks. The boy wasted no time burying his face between them.

“UNGH.”

Logan flushed with embarrassment when he realized the deep, guttural moan echoing across the practice field was coming from him. He closed his mouth with a snap, obediently allowing Kofi to do a thorough ‘tasting’ of his sweat, his tongue executing a very comprehensive exploration of Logan’s tight manbud in the process. 

Logan was squirming from the effort of trying to hold still and keep quiet when the kid finally lifted his chin away, smacking his lips and drawling, “Hmmmm, not quite sure. I think I’ll have to do some more tastin’…”

“Kofi! That’s enough!” 

Logan looked up to find Alejo standing before them, hands planted on his hips. He looked pissed. 

The boy pointed at the ball. “Focus, Harris! Now, get in position!”

Behind him, Kofi sheepishly squatted down while Logan bent over and gripped the ball, preparing to snap it backward on the boy’s cue. In front of them, Alejo likewise crouched down, doing a good job of looking like a real offensive lineman.

Sweating and eager to show the boys that he knew what he was doing, Logan waited breathlessly as Kofi called out, “One…two…three…SNAP!” 

He snapped the ball backward into Kofi’s waiting hands and propelled himself upward, ready to protect his quarterback from Alejo’s attack. 

He didn’t get very far.

“Got ya.”

Logan froze, looking down to find himself firmly in Alejo’s grip. His tiny brain struggled to make sense of this unexpected maneuver and he furrowed his brows, grunting, “Uh, ain’t ya ‘sposed to go after the quarterback? He’s, uh, ya know, the one with the ball.”

Alejo smiled. “Oh, I got the ball alright. Both of ‘em.” 

To accentuate his point, he tightened his grip, making Logan’s eyes roll back in his head.

It was true, Logan realized. Alejo’s hand was shoved down into the pouch of jockstrap and he had Logan’s balls in a vise grip.

Logan opened his mouth to point out that the boy was going after the wrong ball but was interrupted by Kofi tackling him from behind, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist and pressing against him. Logan’s eyes widened when he felt something hard and significant pressing into the cleft of his buttocks.

“What do ya think, Alejo?” Kofi asked slyly. “Should we take him inside and show him some moves of our own?”

***

Bemused, Logan allowed the boys to lead him by the hand into the locker room where they stripped him out of his soggy equipment and dragged him into the showers. He watched in befuddlement as they helped each out of their clothing, tossing everything in a corner of the shower room before turning to face him. 

Logan gaped.

They were not only naked but very aroused.

He’d never been close to another guy sporting an erection. It was weird and disconcerting, not the least because a quick glance downward confirmed that his giant was standing tall and proud. He stared in surprise as his long foreskin drew backward, revealing the incredibly bulbous head of his cock.

He blinked, still unable to believe the beast belonged to him. Seiji really had changed him!

He wasn’t the only one mesmerized by his huge hardon. When he looked up, he saw the boys’ eyes were locked on his crotch. Their mouths were hanging open and almost unconsciously their hands dropped to grab each other’s erections. 

Logan’s cock spasmed at the sight and he swallowed, tongue sticking to the back of his throat as he realized that Alejo and Kofi were both very cute. A budding linebacker, Kofi was taller and broader than Alejo…and his cock was bigger, too. He sported short dreads pulled back into a tiny knot on the back of his head. This had the effect of accentuating his narrow face, full lips, and pointed chin. Catching Logan staring at him, he crossed his arms and looked down at his hefty, uncircumcised cock being massaged lovingly in Alejo’s hand.

Elbowing his pal, he said, “Hey, bro, I call tails.” In case there was any doubt of the meaning of his words, he craned his neck to the side, taking in the full view of Logan’s huge booty.

“That’s cool with me,” Alejo replied. “Ya already know how much I love pole vaulting.”

Kofi laughed at this, tugging at Alejo’s stubby erection. Unlike Kofi’s, the boy’s cock was short and fat and his balls were pulled up tight in their sac. He’d trimmed his black pubes down to a tiny patch, something that only served to make him look more boyish. Compared to Kofi, he was slight but lithe muscles were clearly outlined under his smooth, brown skin. Logan could tell he would mature into a runner’s build and make for a lightning fast running back or wide receiver.

In a moment, both boys advanced upon him and pushed him under the spray of a waiting shower. He staggered backward, still uncertain exactly what was going on. The boys didn’t stop to explain themselves and commenced slathering soap over his beefy body, leaving no crack or crevice untouched. By the time they were finished, he was on the verge of exploding and his giant cock was defying gravity as it pointed upward toward the ceiling.

“Now do us.”

He looked over to find Alejo and Kofi standing expectantly beside him. Kofi glanced significantly toward the soap dispenser and jerked his chin. Logan was thick-headed but even he could understand what the boy was asking him to do and he reached out with shaking hands to squeeze several pumps of soap into his palm. Heart pounding, he rubbed his hands together and proceeded to lather up Kofi’s taut, naked body with so much soap he was covered in suds by the end.

“You forgot something,” Kofi reminded him, thrusting his crotch forward and waggling his big erection.

Logan blushed. He’d purposely avoided touching the boy’s junk. He wasn’t gay after all! Realizing that Kofi wasn’t going to let him off easily, he jerked into action, saying, “Oh, yeah, sorry!”

Soon, he was rubbing that hot, pulsing manpole (boypole?) in his hands, making sure to cover every inch with soap. Kofi moaned, throwing his head back and undulating his hips until he was nearly rabid with excitement. Logan was mostly in shock. He couldn’t believe he was actually touching the boy’s hard cock!

He was saved from further turmoil by Alejo…sort of. Tired of waiting his turn, the boy inserted himself between Logan and Kofi, pressing his lithe body against him and rubbing up and down. Logan gasped and stars exploded in his head. The friction of the boy’s crotch against his own was enough to make him nearly pass out.

Just before he shot his load, though, Alejo halted, announcing, “There! I’m all soaped up. Now let’s rinse off and get down to business.”

Exerting more self-control than Logan possessed, the boys showered off, working together to rinse all traces of soap from Logan’s body. Then they toweled him dry and led him by the hand into the massage room. Kofi pushed him belly first onto the massage table (which had a strategically large hollow in the center to accommodate his greatly enhanced junk) while Alejo fetched a bottle of oil. Soon the boys were straddling him, drizzling warm oil all over his naked body…and each other. 

When he was thoroughly greased up, Alejo slid off and stood in front of him, placing his hands on Logan’s shoulders and massaging his aching muscles. On top, Kofi slid backward until he was straddling Logan’s bulging thighs. Leaning forward, he placed one hand on each beefy buttock and squeezed, kneading and rolling and pushing, working his hands deeper and deeper. Logan moaned when those hands parted his butt cheeks.

His moan turned into a startled bellow when the boy took his well-oiled thumbs and pressed them against Logan’s manbud. His eyes shot open and he struggled to get up but Kofi shushed him and pushed him back down.

“Easy, boy,” he soothed. “This is the newest form of massage we recommend for all of the sluts–I mean, players. Just relax and let yer sports medicine intern take care of ya.” With that, he resumed working his thumbs against Logan’s butthole, gradually parting it and inserting them millimeter by millimeter, praising, “Wow, now that’s a tight little hole ya got there, bud! Yer an ass virgin if I ever felt one!”

Logan’s eyes were wide and he began to whimper, partly out of embarrassment–What was Kofi going to do to him?–and partly out of surprise. He’d never even thought of having his hole massaged and had no idea it could feel this good!

Alejo didn’t let him dwell on this for long. Tapping him on the forehead, the boy prompted, “Eyes up here, dude!” Logan lifted his head to find himself staring directly at the boy’s fat erection. No more than four or five inches long, it was incredibly girthy and looked like a stubby sausage…dripping with pre. Alejo thrust forward, pressing his little fucktool in his face. Logan opened his mouth to object and Alejo took the opportunity to ram his cock inside his mouth. Soon Logan’s eyes were swimming as he tasted a man’s (well, boy’s) cock for the first time in his life. “Like that don’t ya, slut?” Alejo teased, thrusting in further and forcing Logan’s jaw to open wide to fit his thick organ. “Suck it good. Get me good and ready!”

Ready for what? Logan was wondering when he let out a startled yelp. Behind him, Kofi had managed to insert most of his index finger into Logan’s butthole. Soon, he’d worked it all of the inside him and Logan nearly passed out with bliss when the kid’s fingertip tickled his prostate.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Kofit breathed, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “But ya know what feels even better?” Logan shook his head, completely flummoxed by what was happening. Kofi didn’t leave him hanging for long, though.

In wordless answer, the boy withdrew his finger and pulled back slightly. Logan was just beginning to relax when he bawled like a frightened heifer.

“GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

What the fuck was doing to him?! It felt like he’d just stuck his entire…

“Pop! goes the cherry!” Kofi crowed behind him, accenting his ‘point’ by driving his huge cock balls deep inside Logan’s hole. “How’s it feel, you dumbass himbo slut? And I mean that in the best way possible!” He laughed, thrusting even deeper and making Logan inadvertently bite down on Alejo’s fat cock.

“Careful!” the kid barked. “I don’t got much to begin with. If ya chew it off, I’ll have even less!”

Logan braced, heart pounding. His entire oil-slicked body was pouring sweat and his beleaguered virgin butthole was screaming with pain. He had no idea that taking a cock up the ass could be both so awful and so fucking delicious at the same time! He didn’t resist when Kofi urged him to stick his ass in the air and soon the boy had grabbed him by the broad hips and was fucking him with fervor. Logan writhed under the onslaught, learning quickly how to time his movements with Kofi’s thrusts to maximize their impact. He could feel his insides part and make way for that big cock. His prostate took the brunt of the boy’s battering ram…but that was just fine with Logan. He found himself grunting in ecstasy even as he slurped and sucked on Alejo’s cock.

It was difficult for him to concentrate on fucking and sucking at once but both boys weren’t shy about ‘instructing’ him. Alejo took him by the head and ground his cock into his mouth while Kofi’s thighs slapped loudly against his giant buttocks. He would have been more than happy for this to continue–he’d completely forgotten about his own cock even though it had swollen fatter than a baseball bat and was rubbing against his tummy–but the boys had other things in mind. Soon, Kofi was urging him onto his haunches while Alejo clambered up on the table before him. Logan had grown to enjoy the taste and feel of the boy’s cock in his mouth and was a little sad at its loss until Alejo turned around and presented him with his slender yet ripe backside. His mouth fell open when he saw those deliciously smooth butt cheeks part, revealing the unexpectedly gaping butthole nestled between them. As he stared at it, Alejo relaxed and his big, slack hole gaped even wider. Logan was very new to this (and none too bright) but even he recognized a butthole that was well used.

“Go on, you dumb himbo!” Alejo ordered. “Fuck it!” As if to underscore this point, Kofi slapped his ass so hard Logan jumped.

He got to work.

Alejo backed up and Logan lifted his oily cock, pointing it at that loose boyhole. With one quick hop, Alejo was on it and Logan’s mind exploded once again. He’d never fucked a guy before and was startled by how natural–and fucking amazing!–it felt. Alejo’s vacuous hole greeted his slicked-up monster like an old friend and soon Logan was just as balls deep inside Alejo as Kofi was inside him. He grinned stupidly as that wet-hot cavity contracted around him, taking him on a wild ride through ass-fucking paradise.

It took them a few minutes but their bodies eventually slipped into a happy rhythm with Kofi’s massive thrusts setting the beat. He would pound against Logan’s hairy manpussy, sending shockwaves through his beefy body and propelling him deeper into Alejo’s hole. Logan soon found he could simply relax and let them do most of the work and this freed him up to truly savor the experience. By the time Kofi’s thick rod exploded inside him, drenching his prostate with boy juices, he was ready to lose it as well and took Alejo by the slim hips and, yanking him downward, filled the boy with gallons of his pent-up seed.

Kofi wrapped his greasy hands around Logan’s middle and sagged backward, pulling him down until he was resting on the boy’s lap. He did the same with Alejo and the trio sat like that for a long time, waiting until they caught their breath while enjoying the slow fade of desire. Kofi’s cock was still planted deep inside him and his own fat fuckstick was still pulsing inside Alejo’s roomier ass. Cum trickled out of Logan’s stretched-out hole onto Kofi’s crotch and his juices were leaking out of Alejo, slathering his dense pubes with fragrant boy perfume. It felt so good that he couldn’t help grunting with laughter. Who would have thought that butt-sex could be so much fun with a couple of boys?

He would never look at the sports medicine interns the same way again.

And it was the same way with them.

“Hey, you dumbass himbo slut,” Alejo teased, squeezing his butt cheeks together and clamping down on Logan’s still-hard monster. “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Yeah, not too bad,” Kofi agreed, tickling Logan’s prostate with a well-timed thrust, “but ya still need work. Now let’s do it again but this time I wanna ride yer pony.”

***

Chapter 8

Logan arrived early for his meeting with Seiji at the downtown gym. He strolled in, still glowing from his…experience…in the locker room with Alejo and Kofi. He had no idea that the sports medicine interns were so talented! If he’d known what they were capable of, he would have asked them a long time ago for their special ‘treatments.’.

His butt was sore from taking Kofi’s huge cock…and from a guy who fucked him behind a dumpster on the way over here…and from that hot barista at Starbucks who took him into the breakroom and…he shook himself, grinning at the memories. Sure, he was sore down there but he didn’t mind. Shit, mind? He’d fucking loved every second and every inch of cock up his ass! Butt sex was so much fun that he should have switched over to ‘Team Gay’ years ago!

And then there had been the sublime experience of exploring Alejo’s vacuous hole. He smiled as he remembered the sensation of sliding his monster into that hot, moist boy butt and riding him like a stallion…

I’m a vers himbo, he thought proudly, finally understanding the full meaning of the term. He could give and take with the best of ‘em! He was so glad that Seiji had taken charge of his body and remade him into a whole new man!

The gym was crowded, nearly every piece of equipment was occupied. Logan looked around, realizing belatedly that there were no women to be seen. He shrugged. He kind of preferred it that way. He was beginning to feel much more comfortable with men and their positive attention. Indeed, everywhere he went these days, guys couldn’t keep their hands off of him. Even now, the guys were stopping their workouts to lift their heads and sniff the air, grinning broadly when they detected his potent musk. Their eyes lit up when they spotted the huge bulge in his shorts. In no time, he was surrounded by a bunch of guys offering to help him ‘work out.’ They encircled him like a pulsing wall of muscle, crowding each other and reaching out to fondle his crotch until he politely pushed them away. He was startled to realize that most of them were shorter than he was. A lot shorter! In fact, none of them appeared to be taller than five and a half feet tall. They made up for their short stature, though, by being stacked with muscle.

It’s a muscle gym, he realized dimly as he took in the short but nonetheless significant slabs of beef sweating and grunting around him. He’d heard of such places but had never visited one before. Now that he was here, though…well, he was intrigued.

His pulse started pounding as he allowed himself to savor the sight of the heavily muscled studs clad only in the most revealing attire. Their oversized muscles were uniformly swollen to eye-popping size. The white dudes’ skin was sprayed with fake tan until it glowed orange and the darker-skinned guys had oiled themselves until they shone like burnished bronze. All of the men wore tiny Lycra tights and string tank tops that clung to their bulging chests, accentuating their straining pecs, spreading lats and mounded traps.

And then there were their incredible glutes. Logan’s mouth fell open when he saw those supremely inflated buttocks, swollen like bloated watermelons but yet still visibly striated with muscle beneath their confining Spandex. He couldn’t believe it was possible for a guy to grow an ass that huge. And he thought his butt was big!

He was so overwhelmed by their huge muscles that it took him a moment to notice that, to a man, they lacked any noticeable bulge in the crotch of their tights. He blinked, realizing it wasn’t his imagination: Every guy sported just a tiny bulge. Ok, maybe they weren’t as small as Trent (whose bulge was basically nonexistent) but even so they looked like preadolescent boys down there. Logan couldn’t understand why they would wear such tight shorts. It was almost like they were proud of their boy-sized packages.

Maybe proud wasn’t the right word? Resigned might be more accurate but more on that later…

Logan might be a dim bulb but it soon became clear even to him that the guys were completely entranced and excited by his giant package. And they weren’t shy about letting him know how much they desired it. He turned around and gave a start of surprise when he found that all of them were going out of their way to show off their huge asses, squatting down and bending over and generally pushing their giant globes outward to entice his attention.

His breathing became even more labored when he inhaled the sweet-sweaty scent pervading the gym. The delectable odor had an almost instantaneous effect on him: His cock was straining against the cup of his jock, threatening to burst free at any moment. Between those mesmerizing asses and the insanely arousing aroma, he had to fight the potent urge to whip out his cock and jack off in front of everyone. He lowered his hand and started massaging himself…

He was saved by Seiji’s timely arrival.

“Down, boy!” the young guy teased, reaching up to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later but right now I need ya to break in a new trainee.” He motioned behind himself with his free hand, coaxing, “C’mon, bud. Don’t be shy. Logan is gonna show ya the ropes.”

Logan turned and did a double take. “Ted? Whatcha doin’ here?”

Of all of the people Logan expected to see, the cocky team quarterback, Ted Markell, was at the bottom of the list. The tall, arrogant jock with his lithe runner’s build and disdainful attitude wasn’t someone you would normally find at a muscle gym. Indeed, he seemed to be thinking the same thing as he swallowed nervously, looking around.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Seiji muttered to Logan when Ted seemed disinclined to speak. “He’s only just received his treatments and isn’t quite himself right now.”

Ted seemed not to hear him. He was too busy gawking at the humongously beefy fireplugs waddling around, thrusting their huge butts out at Logan. Aside from his lean physique, he stuck out from the crowd by towering over everyone present. At nearly six foot four, he was a couple inches taller than Logan and nearly a foot taller than the rest of the gym clientele. And then there was his bushy beard; all of the other guys (except Logan) were clean-shaven…and not just on their faces; there wasn’t a trace of body hair to be seen on any of them!

“Yo, bro? Ted?” Seiji prompted, waving his hand in front of Ted’s face. “How ‘bout you and Logan go in the locker room and get ready for your workout. Here,” he thrust a bag into Ted’s hands, ordering, “put these on.”

Ted absently reached out to take the proffered bag, tucking it under his arm and obediently following Logan as he made his way through the throng of adoring muscle boys to the locker room. The crowd parted reluctantly before them and Logan flushed at the overheated stares directed at his crotch. Some of the guys even licked their lips and moaned, their hungry eyes locked on his straining manhood. Kofi and Alejo had been demure in comparison to these worshipful beef cows!

Just before they entered the locker room, Seiji called out behind them, “And, Logan, I know it will be tempting but, whatever you do, don’t fuck him while you’re in there. Got it?”

Logan cast a glance over his shoulder and gave Seiji a thumbs up, saying, “Sure thing, Boss!”

***

The locker room was mostly empty when they entered. A couple guys were helping each other into their Lycra hot pants and one or two of the shower stalls were occupied. All heads swiveled in Logan’s direction as soon as he walked in, though, and he instinctively herded Ted toward a nook shielded from prying eyes by a large fern.

“Here, dude. Sit down and relax,” he urged, patting the bench next to him. He remembered vividly how disoriented he’d been after his appointment with Seiji. Had it really only been yesterday? Shit, it felt like years ago!

Ted mutely settled on the bench while Logan stripped out of his himbo street clothes. The quarterback stared dumbly at the bag Seiji had given him, eventually opening it and peering inside. His eyes went round and he grimaced with distaste as he extracted a flimsy garment from within. “Dude, I’m not wearing this!” he complained, thrusting the piece of fabric at Logan. “No way!”

Logan looked up to see Ted holding a fluorescent pink thong. He took the silken triangle of fabric from the horrified jock and held it up, admiring its frills and lace. If not for the miniscule pouch, he would have thought it belonged to a chick.

“It’s hella sexy,” he breathed, handing it back to Ted. “C’mon, dude! You gotta at least try it on!”

Ted looked up at him aghast, shaking his head. “No FUCKING way, bro! I do NOT wear thongs! Especially not girls’ thongs!”

“Ted,” Logan coaxed. “You gotta. Seiji’s gonna be pissed if ya don’t!”

“Who gives a fuck about…,” Ted’s voice trailed off as he looked up from the offending thong and seemed to see Logan for the first time. Logan had just finished stripping out of his clothes and was naked, rummaging around in his gym bag for a suitably tight pair of mesh shorts. His huge ass was hung out behind him like a swollen caboose and his giant cock and balls flopped languidly to and fro between his thighs. Even more eye-popping were his distended nipples sagging over his inflated pecs. Ted’s face went white and his mouth fell open. “L-L-Logan,” he stammered in a small voice that was far removed from his usual cocky tone, “wh-wh-what h-h-h-happened to you?”

Logan didn’t respond right away because he’d just succeeded in locating a neon orange pair of shorts and matching jockstrap. Exhaling with satisfaction, he yanked them out of the bag and was preparing to step into the jock when he realized Ted was still waiting for his reply. “Whaddaya mean?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the quarterback. “I’m a vers himbo! It’s part of that challenge Coach tole ya to sign up for this morning. Ain’t that why ya went to see Seiji?”

“A ‘vers himbo’?” Ted repeated, face wrinkling. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Logan sighed loudly. “Listen, Ted. It don’t matter. Juss get dressed before Seiji gets pissed with us.”

Ted took a deep breath and seemed about to protest when his nostrils flared at the scent of Logan’s man musk. It was almost humorous watching his eyes glaze over and his mouth fall open. Logan smiled; this was starting to become a familiar routine. Ted’s expression changed, his eyes becoming wider and jaw going slack. When he regained his composure, he stared up at Logan with big, hungry eyes.

“That’s it, bro,” Logan urged, lifting Ted up by the shoulders. “Let’s get ya dressed, Ok?”

Ted nodded absently and didn’t resist when Logan pulled his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it aside, pausing only briefly to admire the quarterback’s tight, lean form. Ted’s muscles were etched beneath his furry chest and flat belly. His abs were perfectly defined and he possessed the deepest set of Adonis lines that Logan had ever seen. Logan licked his lips as he fiddled with the drawstring on Ted’s shorts, pulling them slowly down to reveal the pair of black boxers underneath.

That’s a man’s body! Logan thought appreciatively, drinking in the sight of Ted’s tall, broad, furry frame. The hair on his head might be blond but his beard and body hair were dusty brown and very thick. He was so lean that when Logan viewed him from the side, he realized the jock was only about four inches wide from belly button to the small of his back. Even better, a pillow of thick, brown hair rested over the top of his firm, tiny buttocks, framing them nicely. Logan licked his lips, already looking forward to seeing what Ted was packing inside his boxers.

Ted didn’t resist when he grasped the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them downward. The dude’s dark brown pubes spilled out followed by the unbelievably thick base of his cock. Logan stifled a moan of appreciation as his own cock began to swell once again. He only belatedly realized that he was naked and Ted had a clear view of his pendulous manhood. The jock’s eyes were unfocused, though, and he scarcely seemed aware of what he was seeing.

The cock that eventually sprang free from the confines of those boxers rivaled even Trent’s former glory. Logan goggled at it, unable to believe he’d never noticed how incredibly hung Ted Markell was. The dude’s cock had to be at least ten inches flaccid and it was fatter than a beer can. Like Logan, Ted was uncut and his foreskin was long and tapering. It was a true donkey cock and Logan fell instantly in love with it. In comparison, his own cock seemed crude and ugly.

“I…don’t…feel…so…good.”

Logan looked up from his cock worship just in time to steady Ted before he toppled over. The studly quarterback fell into his arms, head lolling to the side. “Bud? Hey, bro?” Logan called out, shaking him gently. “You Ok?”

For a moment, the jock just lay there but then his eyes snapped open and he pushed himself indignantly out of Logan’s arms, cursing, “What the fuck, dude?! What are you, some kind of faggot?” Belatedly realizing both he and Logan were completely naked, his pale skin flushed crimson and he recoiled in horror. In his rush to cover himself up, he grabbed the first piece of clothing at hand…which happened to be the neon pink thong.

“I’m getting the fuck out of this fruity place!” he bellowed, stepping into the thong and stuffing his giant package into the miniscule pouch. It was so fat and floppy that it didn’t fit, though, and poured out of the tiny pouch, making it look even more obscene. Logan smiled to himself, amused that the arrogant jock seemed to have no idea what he was doing. “And you, Harris,” he continued, “you look like a fucking freak! How the fuck could you do that to yourself?”

He kept on like that, hollering and blathering, but Logan tuned him out, watching instead with rapt attention as Ted reached into the bag and withdrew a transparent pair of pink chiffon shorts and pulled them up his long, hairy thighs before removing a third and final item, the smallest and tightest pink string tank. In no time, Ted Markell was standing before him clad in perhaps the skimpiest and most ridiculous gym outfit that Logan had ever seen. Ted, however, seemed oblivious to what he was wearing, acting as if he was merely dressed in street clothes.

Ted was about to march out of the locker room dressed like that when a clump of brown hair fell off his face. He froze and looked down, following the trajectory of the little tuft as it drifted down to the floor at his feet.

“What the…?” he said, placing a hand on his cheek and pulling on his thick beard.

His hand came away effortlessly and he gaped at the wad of bristly hair between his fingers. Logan stared in surprise as Ted dropped the tuft of beard as if scalded. There was a long silence during which both Logan and Ted blinked at each other and then Ted was clawing at his face, howling in despair as his beard came off in big clumps. Soon his face was completely smooth; there wasn’t even a trace of hair left and his cheeks glowed like virgin skin, silky and soft as a baby’s bottom.

It made him look at least ten years younger.

Panicked, he raced over to the mirror and stared at himself in disbelief, unable to recognize the baby-faced boy staring back at him.

“But…But…how?” he stammered, looking from the mirror to Logan and back again. Logan shrugged. He realized he kind of preferred Ted like this. He welcomed anything that took the fucker down a notch. And this new, smooth-cheeked look definitely made him seem less imposing.

Ted’s misery was only just beginning, though.

As he leaned over the sink and peered at himself in shock, a steady rain of hair poured down. It took him a moment to notice and several more before he recognized the source: His chest.

The dense thicket of brown fur carpeting his pecs and belly was rapidly thinning.

Lifting his tank top and rubbing his hands over his chest only hastened the deforestation. In no time, his entire torso was bare of hair just like his face. Poor Ted pulled his tank top up and moaned in agony as the last tiny bits of fuzz floated down to his feet. He turned and cried out as the furry pillow on the small of his back detached and rolled like a dying rodent onto the shelf of his pink chiffon-clad buttocks.

It only got worse.

Ted pulled out the delicate waistband of his chiffon shorts and let out a pitiful yelp before yanking them down to let his long, fat tube steak and huge balls flop free.

The denuding of his body hair was accelerating downward and was now afflicting his pubes.

Ted grabbed at his kinky brown shorthairs and whimpered as they came off in his hands, leaving his monster cock looking like a plucked ostrich.

The hair on his legs sloughed off next and soon Ted Markell’s whole body was bare of any remnants of hair: It lay in a dirty brown pile around his bare feet. Ted might be frozen in shock but Logan was busy admiring his soft, smooth skin. He looked so nubile and tender and…fuckable! His cock started to plump up once again and he reached down to fondle himself, admiring Ted’s pink, hairless and toned body.

Ted had the opposite reaction. He stood there with his mouth hanging open and an expression of pure torment on his boyish face. He cradled his giant, hairless balls, shaking them as if he expected this would somehow coax the hair to grow back. Finally, he gave up and, dropping his manhood, took his head in his hands and bawled.

“Aw, hey, Ted,” Logan cajoled. “It’s just hair! Don’t worry–”

“WHAT THE FUCK, LOGAN?!” he cried plaintively. “WHAT THE FUCK???!!!”

Logan gave him a reassuring if somewhat patronizing smile, cajoling, “Just go with it, bro. It’s better if ya don’t fight it.”

“Fight what?” Ted demanded. “I don’t even know what the fuck is happening to me!”

“Yer treatments,” Logan explained in the patient tone one might use to address a child. “Seiji’s treatments.”

Ted tore his gaze away from his denuded body long enough to give Logan a confused look. “What treatments? All I remember is listening to a boring podcast and, the next thing I know, I’m here with you in this fruity gym.”

Logan lifted his heavy brows in surprise. “Ya really don’t remember?” When Ted shook his head, he debated what to say next and finally decided it would be best if Seiji took over from here. “Here,” he said, padding over to pull the tiny thong and transparent pink shorts over Ted’s crotch, “get yer shoes on and let’s go work out. You’ll feel better, I know it!”

He gently stuffed the quarterback’s overgrown sausage and hairless balls into the pouch (fondling them appreciatively as he did so) and then pulled the string tank down over his perfectly smooth belly. When he was done, he glanced up to find Ted was sucking on his lower lip. He seemed so fragile and innocent that Logan smiled. “Hey, big boy,” he soothed. “Dontcha worry ‘bout a thing! I’m here to take care of ya!” Ted’s gaze flicked to his face and he opened his mouth as if to object but then tears welled up in his big, blue eyes and his lips started trembling. When Logan straightened and opened up his arms, Ted instinctively folded against him, burying his face in his shoulder and sobbing uncontrollably.

They stood there for a long time like that, Logan caressing the back of Ted’s head as the jock cried into his shoulder. He felt only a little guilty at the liberties he took with the sexy quarterback’s body as he did so, pressing his giant crotch forward until he was rubbing up against Ted’s sleeping giant (which slowly woke up with the contact) and lowering a hand down to knead the jock’s tight buttocks. For the most part, Ted seemed oblivious to the erotic nature of their embrace until there was one terrifying moment when he went rigid in Logan’s arms and pulled back to fix him with a look of horrified confusion. Logan braced but the look disappeared almost as soon as it played across that adorable baby face and then Ted was opening his mouth and covering Logan’s lips with passionate kisses.

“Yer so pretty,” Logan murmured in between kisses. “Yer my beautiful baby boy! And so fuggin’ cute in yer pink panties!”

Ted pulled back and thrust out his lower lip in a pout. “I’m not a baby! And these are not panties!” His voice was so tremulous and petulant, though, that it made Logan laugh. When he realized that he was being made fun of, Ted let out a growl that sounded more like a whine and shoved Logan backward into one of the shower stalls, threatening, “I’ll show you who’s the baby boy around here!”

Still laughing, Logan let the quarterback flip him around and push him forward until he was doubled over and holding onto the faucet knob. He bent over, flaring his butt cheeks and all but inviting Ted to have at his eager, himbo hole…but nothing happened. Finally, he looked over his shoulder to find the hairless jock staring down at his big, beefy, hirsute body with a mixture of envy and worship.

“You’re…such…a…” he whispered in a small voice that trailed off. He looked down, naked cheeks flushing pink.

When Logan straightened and turned toward him, Ted’s baby blue eyes were so big and innocent that they melted Logan’s heart. “Aw, c’mere, lil’ thing,” he entreated, holding his arms out. “Lemme take care of ya.”

Once again Ted melted into his embrace, this time with an air of desperate need that Logan found incredibly arousing. He lowered his lips and they kissed again, more deeply and passionately than before. Cock rigid and blood coursing, Logan growled and thrust himself against Ted, shoving him into a corner of the shower and bearing down upon him like a rutting bear. Everything about Ted’s smooth, tender body and those soft, inviting lips turned him on. He was scarcely aware of how strange it was that Ted Markell, the team’s biggest, most arrogant jock, was writhing beneath him like a bitch in heat, begging Logan to fuck him senseless.

In his engorged and aroused state, Logan didn’t notice something weird until he squeezed Ted in his arms.

Huh? he thought. What’s goin’ on?

He squeezed again and realized he hadn’t imagined it: Ted Markell was softer than he’d been a few moments ago.

And shorter.

At first, Logan had to lift his head to meet the tall jock’s lips but now Ted’s lips were so far below his own that he had to hunch over to reach them. But, fuck, were they soft! Ted’s mouth was so small and his lips were so full that it set Logan on fire and he bore down on the young guy, making him whimper. When he pulled back to take in Ted’s changes, his big cock nearly spurted cum in a hands-free orgasm.

Ted Markell had shrunk at least five inches and appeared even younger than before. His formerly tight, lean body had both softened and filled out with muscle as his stature had diminished. His skin glowed pink and nubile in the light of the locker room and his hair…shit, his blond hair was now a thick, boyish mop on the top of his head. As Ted stared up at him with those huge, luminous eyes, a delicate curl fell down over his cheek, nearly driving Logan insane with desire.

The look of wanton lust etched across Logan’s face had a profound impact on poor Ted. Logan’s incredible power and dominance overwhelmed him, incinerating his hauteur and confidence. From that moment forward, his cockiness was replaced by a perennial air of uncertainty and wide-eyed innocence. Logan reveled in watching Ted lose his footing and grinned wolfishly as Ted blinked up at him, his long eyelashes drifting demurely down over those mesmerizing orbs.

His pouty lips lifted in a tentative, bashful smile. “Logan,” he breathed in a delicate voice, “what’s wrong? Are ya mad at me? Did I do sumthin’ wrong?”

When he swallowed and started to back away, hurt and embarrassment playing across his baby face, Logan reached out to take him in his arms, lifting him until the now diminutive Ted was forced to straddle his waist. Logan buried his face against Ted’s supple neck and rubbed his beard into him until he giggled.

“Wrong, Teddy?” he growled. “Never! Everything ‘bout ya is right!” He paused to appreciate the heft and softness of Teddy’s much bigger butt cheeks. Squeezing them, he added, “Especially yer big, fat bottom!”

Ted grimaced, a little bit of his old fire showing itself. “Take that back! Yer a liar! I don’t got a fat bottom!”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan challenged. “Look!”

He manhandled Teddy out of the shower stall and set him down squarely in front of the mirror, forcing him to take in his greatly changed body. When Ted straightened, Logan was shocked to see he’d shrunk even more and now was a foot shorter. He barely reached up to Logan’s pecs! And his body…

Shit, Teddy Markell was almost unrecognizable from the tall, lean, bearded quarterback of moments ago!

In his place now stood a small but compact young boy who barely looked like he was eighteen. Logan stalked around behind him, placing his hands possessively on his much lower shoulders as Teddy gaped at himself. He wiggled his butt, making those inflated cheeks sway tantalizingly against the tip of Logan’s dangling manhood. Logan moaned, instantly fully erect. He squatted down and kneaded that full, round, perky bottom, groaning in ecstasy as his tool spurted copious amounts of pre.

“W-W-W-What’s happenin’ to my pee-pee?”

Pee-pee? Logan thought, smiling at Teddy’s cute term for his penis. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from that beautiful backside and looked up at the mirror. He goggled, jaw falling open. Teddy had pulled his formerly hulking penis out of his thong and was fapping, desperately trying to make it grow bigger.

It was a fruitless effort. Logan could tell it was already hard as a rock…and less than half the size of minutes ago. Measuring perhaps six inches long but barely as girthy as a hotdog, even Teddy’s smaller stature didn’t do much to make his manhood appear bigger.

Just then, Teddy cried out, doubling over in pain. When he stood up again, his cock had shrunk even more and now barely poked out from his smooth pubes. His balls likewise shrunk up their sac, pulling up so tightly they disappeared. Teddy wailed piteously, lower lip quivering and baby blue eyes filling with tears. It didn’t make any difference. He was now just over five feet tall and basically a eunuch.

A baby face and a baby dick, Logan thought, perhaps a trifle unkindly. He didn’t know whether to feel amused or turned on and decided he felt both.Ted Markell, the big, arrogant fuck, was now little more than a prepubscent boy with a nub for a dick and a giant, ripe bottom. He gazed bemused down at the little feller, feeling his chest and dick swell. As a proud himbo, he knew what to do next and he was looking forward to it.

“C’mon, little guy,” he commanded, placing both hands on Teddy’s shoulders and pushing him downward. “Time to teach ya how to be a good lil’ pussyboi and break in that hole of yers.”

Teddy resisted at first but Logan was so much bigger now that he had no choice but to comply. Soon, he had dropped obediently down onto his hands and knees. He gazed hesitantly over his shoulder at Logan while pushing his giant, smooth butt cheeks backward and arching his back. Stars exploded in Logan’s head as he watched those magnificently swollen cheeks part to reveal the tiniest, tenderest boyhole, bisected delectably by the tiny pink string of the thong. Teddy’s skin was perfectly smooth and silky and his little hole was the prettiest shade of pink. It puckered and unpuckered invitingly as Logan drooled down at it.

He sank down behind the eager, little guy, pausing to appreciate the contrast of their bodies. His was so hairy, big and manly and Teddy’s was so smooth, pink and boyish. Logan’s muscles were taut and engorged while Teddy’s were soft and shapely. And…

Holy fuck, that hot!

Apparently impatient to get started, Teddy flared his buttocks as he lowered his hands onto the tile of the locker room, spreading his knees and exposing his taint along with his tiny package nestled in the frilly pouch of the thong.

“Fuck me, Daddy!” he cooed, wiggling his big butt and making those big cheeks jiggle. “I’ve been a very bad boy!”

Shit, the kid’s really got the hang of this! Logan thought. It was super cool of the little dude to embrace his new role so rapidly and he wasn’t going to keep him waiting. Letting out a lusty roar that echoed through the locker room, he pounced on Teddy, taking him by surprise when he wet his thick index finger and jammed it inside that hot, expectant hole.

“OWWWWWWW-WEEEEEE!” Teddy howled, initial shock turning into ecstatic glee as Logan followed the finger with two more and then pulled back to ram his hyper-charged cock deep inside.

Logan had been a quick study with Alejo and Kofi, quickly mastering the art of a fucking a boy. Teddy was the happy recipient of this mastery…and more…as Logan improvised, taking his fucking to a new level. He roasted and spitted Teddy on his huge pole, flipping him over onto his back and ripping his thong off. As he neared a mind-numbing climax, he tickled Teddy’s tiny nub with his pinkie, sending him over the edge. Soon he was spewing hot cum, coating Teddy’s insides with his potent seed and leaving his hole permanently gaping while the boy shrilled, a tiny jet of clear cum spritzing Logan’s finger.

“Shit, dude! I tole ya not to fuck him!”

They looked up to find an angry Seiji standing over them, hands planted on his hips and a deep scowl twisting his face. Behind him was a large crowd of gym bunnies looking on with envy.

When Logan merely stared blankly, Seiji sighed with exasperation. “God, Logan, you really are stupid, aren’t you? Don’t you know anything about pussybois?”

Logan’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth and he was gasping for air, giant tool still convulsing inside Teddy’s gaping hole. All he could do is shake his big head, eyes rolling upward in sweet release. He’d never realized that completely dominating another guy could be so fucking pleasurable. It turned him on to no end knowing that he’d single-handedly (single-cockedly?) brought Ted Markell down, permanently ruining his reputation as the big man on campus. It was such a sweet victory that he didn’t give a fuck what Seiji thought.

Seiji’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice, pronouncing each syllable slowly and crisply like he was talking to a complete moron…which wasn’t too much of a stretch, given Logan’s diminished IQ. “A pussyboi is driven by the need to get fucked by ever bigger cocks, you big, dumb idiot. By starting him off on your monster cock, he’s never gonna be satisfied until he finds an even bigger one…which is basically impossible ‘cuz your fuckstick is already super-sized.”

“Oops.”

Seiji slapped his hand to his forehead, groaning. Logan ignored him and continued to thrust his monster deeper and deeper, curious to see how far in he could go. He was still hard and extremely horny and Teddy was only too happy to oblige, driving his bottom down onto Logan and doing his best to clench his destroyed anal muscles. He purred contentedly, a sound that further ignited Logan’s passion. Soon, they were fucking with wild abandon, heedless of Seiji.

Seiji made one last attempt to get through. “Yo, Ted!” he called out. “Did you hear a word I said? You’re never gonna be satisfied by anyone’s cock again. Don’t you fuckin’ care?”

Teddy’s only response was a birdlike titter.

Seiji shook his head, turning on his heel and leaving them to it. “Suit yerself, Ted,” he muttered over his shoulder. “Yer now just as dumb as Logan and even sluttier, if that’s possible. Say goodbye to your chances of ever getting into Harvard. You’ll be lucky if you make it through himbo preschool now.”

***

Chapter 9

Tobias Evans, the center on Logan and Trent’s football team

Tobias awoke with a start, confused for a moment about where he was. My apartment, he realized finally, relaxing. I must’ve been dreaming!

He glanced at his phone and groaned when he realized it was 6:45. He was supposed to meet a bunch of his fellow ROTC cadets for a karaoke party at seven. He’d better get moving if he didn’t want to be late!

He pushed himself up on his elbows and stretched, surprised by how achy he was. Football practice and those army drills afterward he really kicked his butt! He shifted in his bed and pulled back the sheets, putting his feet on the floor and pushing himself up. He stumbled a little and had to windmill his arms to catch his balance.

That’s strange, he thought. I feel like I’m drunk or something.

He stood there, struggling to catch his breath and feeling uncomfortable in his own body for reasons he couldn’t quite identify. His clothes fit weird, for starters. His sweatpants felt both too tight and too loose. And his tank top was pinching in places it shouldn’t. He grunted, reaching back to tug on his sweats before stretching out his tank. It helped a little but he still felt off. 

The apartment was dark; his roommate and fellow ROTC cadet, Thien Nguyen, must have already left for the restaurant. He frowned, shaking off the memories of the eerie dream and ignoring his physical discomfort. It was nothing beer and some fun with the guys wouldn’t fix! He forced a smile and staggered over to his closet to get dressed. C’mon, Tobias! He chided himself. It’s Friday night and time to party!

He got dressed in the dark and felt better after he changed into a pair of jeans and muscle tee (attributing the way his ass strained against the jeans to drying them too long in the clothes dryer.) He didn’t need to look in the mirror to know he was a natural stunner. He towered over lesser men both in stature and demeanor and possessed an incredibly muscular physique that escaped no one’s notice. He loved strutting across campus and seeing chicks stop and stare when they thought he wasn’t looking. He grinned, running a hand through the thick, brown stubble of his military crew cut and reveling in his identity as an alpha Rot-Cee dawg. By the time he swaggered down the hall and out the door, he was convinced this was going to be his lucky night.

***

The other cadets were already at the restaurant, crowded into the little private room that Tobias had reserved for the party. It was one of those Japanese places with the bamboo floors, elegant rice paper partitions and kneeling tables. He kicked his boots off and left them on the mat in front of the room. Even before he opened the door, though, he could hear his friends raucous laughter. From the sound of things, the dudes were already pretty drunk.

Inside, the room was barely big enough to fit the low table and karaoke stand, much less a group of hulking cadets. His best friend, Chance Reyes, yelled, “TOE-BEE!” as he slid back the door and crawled onto the raised platform. A dozen red faces immediately turned in his direction and a chorus bellows rang out. Soon the whole room was chanting the shortened version of his name. He grinned, shaking his head, willing to set aside his dislike for the name ‘Toby’ because it felt so good to be with his buddies again.

He objected, though, when Chance yanked him down onto his lap and proceeded to flip him over and give him a loud smack on the ass. Chance merely laughed at his ineffectual efforts to free himself and gave him an even louder smack, yodeling, “YOWIE! NOW THAT’S AN ASS! I THINK I’M IN LOVE!”

Tobias flushed with indignation and struggled to get free but Chance had already passed him off to the next guy. Soon, he was being traded from lap to lap as his bottom was subjected to a series of spankings the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since he was a boy and his father had caught him writing on the walls of his bedroom with crayon. 

The experience grew progressively worse: Emboldened by his complaining, each guy became grabbier. By the time he’d made a full circuit of the table, he was red-faced and shaking. Unfortunately, nothing he did made any difference. If anything, the group seemed to feed off his outrage, taking liberties with his body that he’d never experienced before. Being groped by guys was bad enough but the tears that sprang to his eyes were even more humiliating. He shook his head, blinking them away, furious with himself for being such a pussy.

“That’s enough, guys.”

It was Thien.

Tobias looked up to discover he had been passed off to this roommate and was now seated in Thien’s lap. His buddy smiled and pushed him gently onto the small bench beside him. Careful to shield himself from the prying eyes of the other cadets, he took a napkin and dabbed at Tobias’s eyes, whispering, “Just ignore ‘em, bud. It’ll be Ok.”

Tobias took a shuddering breath, trying to find his normal confidence. He was so accustomed to being the alpha dog that he was unprepared for this experience. He tried to set his jaw and act cocky but he knew he didn’t fool anyone, much less himself. What the fuck was going on?

Chance wasn’t about to let him off the hook, either. Tobias groaned inwardly when he realized that he was wedged in between the arrogant jock and Thien. He bristled when Chance slung a heavy arm over his shoulder and swung his head boozily over, taunting, “We was just talkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Really?” Tobias’ voice could not have been chillier.

Chance grinned and belched in his face, snickering loudly. Tobias scowled and tried to pull away but the jock merely tightened his grip around his neck. “Yeah,” he continued, eyes dancing with malice. “We was just sayin’ that yer lucky ol’ Gorsuch saved yer big ol’ girly ass.”

Gorsuch? Tobias wondered briefly before he realized that Chance was talking about Neil Gorsuch, one of the justices appointed to the Supreme Court under President Trump. Tobias had been very pleased with his nomination but had no idea what Chance was referring to.

When confronted with his blank look, Chance goaded, “Don’t play dumb, bro. You know what I’m talkin’ bout! Gorsuch did an end run around Trump and welcomed t-boys like you back into the Marines.”

Tobias froze in confusion and shock. “‘T-Boys?” he repeated, trying to duck out of Chance’s headlock. “Like me? What the fuck are you talking about, Reyes?”

Chance’s eyes narrowed. “C’mon, Evans. Don’t pretend we don’t all know yer secret.” He smirked, pulling Tobias closer until their lips were mere inches apart. Tobias struggled to pull away but Chance was too strong. He could only stare in shock while his drunk buddy puckered and leaned in. Tobias’ nose twitched; Chance’s breath was redolent with beer. He cringed, trying to turn away. The last thing he wanted was to kiss Chance Reyes!

Above them, someone cleared his throat and asked, “May I get you something to drink, sir?” They looked up find the server, a delicate, young man with long, black hair and a solemn expression, looking down at them solicitously.

Tobias took advantage of Chance’s distraction to push him away. “I’ll have a Sapporo,” he answered gruffly, embarrassed by how flustered Chance had gotten him. He was bewildered by his friend’s behavior; he’d seen him drunk plenty of times before but the dude had never been this belligerent. In fact, he’d never witnessed Chance being anything other than a perfect gentleman. Usually it was Chance who admonished Tobias for crossing the line.

The waiter nodded and was turning to leave when Chance elbowed the guy next to him, chortling loudly, “Geezus, bro! Look at the fag they sent to wait on us. Watch out, guys! He’ll try to suck yer dicks if yer not payin’ attention!” He grabbed his crotch, shouting in a crude imitation of a Japanese accent, “Me love you long time! Me likey-likey for the nighty-nighty!”

The waiter flushed and skittered out of the room as everyone in the room burst out laughing…with the notable exception of Tobias and Thien. Tobias looked over at his roommate and saw Thien was clenching his jaw, staring straight ahead. The laughter continued for a long time, finally trailing off. 

When Chance noticed that Tobias and Thien were sitting in stony silence, he teased, “What’s got yer panties all in a bunch, ladies? Has it been too long since you had a real man between yer legs?”

His words fell like lead and the silence turned ominous as Thien sat up rigidly. When he spoke, his voice was steely. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Reyes.”

“Ooooh,” Chance taunted, “Whatcha gonna do, babe? Scratch my eyes out?”

Thien balled his hands into fists and was starting to stand when one of the guys called out, “Hey, chill the fuck out, you guys! This is ‘sposed to be a karaoke party, not a fuckin’ bar room brawl!”

With effort, Thien schooled his features and sat back down. Chance gave him a shit-eating grin and opened his mouth to taunt him but apparently thought better of it and turned away to talk to the guy next to him. Soon, he was regaling anyone who would listen with tales of his most recent sexual exploits. Wedged between Thien and Chance, Tobias breathed a sigh of relief, wondering at himself. In the past, he would have thought nothing of kicking the shit out of Chance for being such a goddamned bully but tonight…

“You Ok?”

He looked over to discover Thien watching him with an unreadable expression. As he stared, his friend smiled slowly, saying, “You look very handsome tonight, Tobias.”

Tobias blinked, mouth falling open. “Er, thanks, man. Um, you do, too.”

Thien dipped his head, eyes glowing, and Tobias was left astounded at himself, not so much for saying that his friend was handsome but because it was true: Thien really was handsome! His roommate had the requisite square jaw of all ROTC cadets but his demeanor was decidedly softer than most of the guys at the table. This didn’t mean he was a pussy, just more tactful and empathic, two qualities that made him even more attractive to Tobias right then. And, of course, there were his big, brown eyes with those long, elegant lashes, his sensitive lips and those adorable ears that jutted out from the side of his head…

He flushed, feeling heat creep up his neck and crotch. He was so flustered that it took him a while to realize the warmth in his crotch was accompanied by an unfamiliar moistening and he shifted, trying to get comfortable. Did he have to pee? No. His bladder wasn’t full. Then what…?

“Your Sapporo, sir.”

The long-haired server had returned and was lowering a beer onto the table before him. Tobias accepted it gratefully and took a small sip before setting it aside. He was turning back to Thien when he caught his roommate checking out the young guy’s backside as he left the room. Instantly, he felt a sharp stab of jealousy that left him gasping. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he care if Thien checked out another guy? He wasn’t a fag or anything!

“Don’t worry, Sweet Cheeks, I still think yer pretty.”

Tobias’ face flamed and he spun around to find Chance Reyes watching him. The sneer on his erstwhile friend’s face told him that Chance had read his thoughts precisely. Tobias struggled to think of something to say to defend himself or at least deflect Chance’s unwanted attention. 

Nothing came.

He could only sit there, wide-eyed with fear as Chance reached across and took a long, slow pull of Tobias’ beer. He lifted his eyebrows challengingly but Tobias was frozen. He could only stare back mutely, feeling his whole body break out in a clammy sweat.

“Yer a big, flaming pussy, aren’t ya?” 

Tobias willed himself to look away but he couldn’t move.

When he didn’t respond, Chance leaned back with a smirk. “S’Ok, Princess,” he drawled, setting the beer unsteadily back down and placing a heavy hand on Tobias’ leg, “I won’t tell anyone.” He kneaded his leg with that meaty paw, drawing close enough for Tobias to smell the alcohol on his breath once again. “That is,” he continued, “I won’t tell nobody if ya promise to give it up to me tonight.”

Tobias tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. “G-G-Give w-w-what up?” he finally managed to stammer, voice barely more than a whisper.

Chance leaned closer, lips curling in a confident smile. “Why, yer pussy, ‘course!” He laughed loudly as if this were the funniest joke ever.

His mockery had a catalyzing effect on Tobias and he finally regained his nerve. He pushed up from the low table and staggered to his feet, spitting, “Yer not getting anywhere near my pussy!” 

He froze after he said it, feeling like a total ass. Everyone knew that guys didn’t have pussies! Only belatedly did he realize that the room had fallen silent and all of the guys were looking up at him in startled surprise. Shit! he thought, panicking. They all heard me!

The silence stretched and Chance’s wolfish grin widened as Tobias frantically tried to figure out what to do. When nothing came, he decided his only option was get the fuck out of there. Turning on his heel, he threw open the sliding door and fled the room.

***

“Hey, man.”

Tobias looked up into the mirror to see Thien’s reflection. His friend was standing behind him at the sink. How did he get in here? he wondered. I thought I locked the bathroom door! 

Even though Thien’s expression was kind, he wasn’t in the mood for sympathy and pursed his lips, ordering, “Go away.”

Thien smiled faintly, reaching behind him to turn the lock. When Tobias remained silent, he took a tentative step forward, followed by another. Tobias stiffened when he placed a hand on his shoulder but he didn’t pull away. Thien laughed softly, commenting, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Reyes tonight. He’s being a huge douche.”

“You can say that again.”

“Listen, bro,” Thien continued. “Don’t let him get to you. He’ll sober up and tomorrow will be begging for your forgiveness. He’s a good guy…a little racist and transphobic, maybe…but a good guy nonetheless.”

For some reason, Tobias looked down at his hands, wondering why they looked so dainty. When he lifted his head and searched his reflection, he wanted badly to see his face as it always had been but couldn’t help thinking that his features looked different somehow. Less blocky. Narrower. Softer. More…feminine? Sure, he still had stubble. And his thick, brown hair was still clipped short in a standard military cut. But…his arms didn’t look as muscular and his chest lacked its usual definition beneath the skin-tight fabric of his t-shirt.

His gaze drifted downward.

What was wrong with his stomach and hips?

Steeling himself, he lifted his t-shirt and gasped when he saw the folds of soft, hairy skin hanging down over his belt.

And, about that belt…

Rather than cinched to its tightest, it was let out several notches. More notches than ever before. How the fuck could he have gained so much weight around the middle? His belly had always been perfectly flat and rippling with abs. And he’d always had cut, shapely legs, not these hulking thighs. He looked ridiculous!

His hands were trembling. He stepped back from the sink and gaped at the man staring back at him. He didn’t look nearly as impressive as the image of himself he carried around in his mind. It was as if he had shrunk and all of the muscular weight from his chest and arms had drained down into his belly, butt and thighs, turning into soft, fleshy plumpness.

No wonder his jeans were so tight! They were almost ready to explode!

What the fuck had happened to him?!

He folded over, letting out an inarticulate howl and covering his face with his hands. When he started sobbing, he felt even shittier as hot tears leaked out of his eyelids. Why was he behaving like such a fucking pussy?

“Awww, bud! C’mere.” Thien’s arms were around him and he was cradling Tobias, rocking him back and forth soothingly. Tobias barely noticed when Thien turned his lips and kissed his ear, murmuring, “Don’t worry, bro! I’m here. I got ya.”

He had only just begun to let himself melt into his friend’s embrace when he realized something alarming: He and Thien were the same height! What the fuck?! He’d always towered over his diminutive friend! This couldn’t be happening! He couldn’t be turning into a short, stocky guy! He couldn’t! He was an alpha dawg! An alpha–

He lost it, burying his face against Thien’s firm shoulder and sobbing like a baby. He didn’t even try to stifle the tears running down his cheeks. The whole evening sucked. Between Chance’s bullying, his inability to defend himself, and now his shrunken, fat body…he couldn’t take any more!

Thien cupped the back of his head in his hands, making tender sounds and generally giving Tobias permission to fall apart. He shushed him when he tried to choke out an apology, saying, “Shhh, that’s enough. Just let it all out, bro. You don’t gotta be a tough guy all the time. Even Rot-Cee dawgs gotta cry now and then.”

Tobias listened and let himself sob. It took a long time but his tears finally faded away, leaving him feeling hollowed out, empty. When he became aware his heart was beating in tandem with Thien’s, he smiled, sniffling, “Yer the best, man! Thank you!”

“Anything for you, Tobias.”

At any other time, his words wouldn’t have registered as erotically-charged but something about the way Thien said them made Tobias’ crotch grow hot. When moisture began trickling down his legs, though, he drew back in confusion. He was overwhelmed not only by these bizarre, gay urges but also by the alien sensation of his groin. His cock should have been tenting out his jeans but he could tell without looking that it wasn’t. He could still feel a certain amount of swelling…down there…but not like expected. A quick glance downward confirmed his suspicions.

No tenting.

Not even a noticeable bulge.

What the fuck was going on?

“What’s wrong, bro?” Thien asked, coming in for a light kiss. (Tobias flinched; the sensation of those warm, soft lips triggered another trickle of moisture in his crotch.) “Did I surprise you? I mean, I know yer straight but I just thought…”

“No, I’m not straight.”

Whoa, had he really just said that?! Could it be true? He’d never EVER thought about having sex with another guy before tonight. Never even felt the slightest tinge of attraction. Shit, quite the opposite! He had been a total pussy hound!

But now…

Now Thien and his dick were all he could think about!

Thien.

Thien Nguyen.

While he stood there in shock, Thien pressed his advantage. He took Tobias’ hand, moving it down and sliding it inside his jeans. Tobias flinched, stars exploding inside his head as his fingers touched his buddy’s sizzlingly hot, rock hard cock. It might be short but it was super fat. What would it feel like…? He flushed at the thought and his hand inadvertently convulsed, closing around that pulsing shaft. Thien’s long foreskin retracted, coating his palm with pre.

“That’s all for you, big boy.”

Tobias’ head jerked upward and he was instantly lost in the dreamy depths of Thien’s beautiful gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and he opened his mouth, moving forward to–

“YO, GUYS! WHAT’RE YOU LOVEBIRDS UP TO IN THERE???”

Startled by Chance Reyes’ loud bark, Tobias instinctively clutched at Thien, hiding in his arms. They both flinched when Chance started pounding on the bathroom door. Tobias looked pleadingly up at Thien, begging with his eyes to tell Chance to go away but it was no use. Thien shook his head and mouthed a wordless apology and Tobias watched in dread as he detached himself from their embrace and paced over to unlock the door. They had only a second to brace before Chance barreled inside.

In his drunken state, the big brute barely caught himself before colliding with Tobias but he windmilled his arms and righted himself just in time. When he took in Tobias’ indignant expression, his broad face broke into a self-satisfied leer.

“I knew it!” he crowed, turning to Thien. “Ya wanted his sweet pussy all to yerself, didn’t ya?”

Thien finished relocking the door and set his jaw. “You’re wasted, Chance. And an asshole. Why the fuck can’t you leave us alone? Tobias doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

Chance straightened and threw back his big shoulders. Tobias was shocked to see the dude now towered over him. He could have sworn that Chance Reyes used to be several inches shorter than he was! Or was he just misremembering? His poor brain was so overtaxed from the events of the disturbing evening that he was no longer certain about anything.

One thing, however, was imminently clear: Chance Reyes was a big man. Tobias took in the guy’s giant frame, stacked with muscles, and shrunk away in fear. Unfortunately, this only emboldened the drunk jock and he loomed over him, clumsily reaching down to unbuckle his belt. Tobias was horrified when he withdrew his engorged member and proceeded to wave it in his face.

“Go on, Sweetheart. Pull down yer panties and get yer wet-ass pussy ready fer my big cock.”

Tobias’s brain screamed at him to move, run or do anything he could to get away from Chance but instead he found himself unwillingly captivated by that huge, dripping tool. As he stood there, wavering, he felt the trickle between his legs turn into a steady drip. The warmth radiating from his crotch was almost unbearable…and led him undeniably to one very unpleasant realization: As much as he despised Chance Reyes, he also desired him.

A lot.

And he wanted nothing more than for the big, arrogant jock to fuck him.

Hard.

Furiously.

Until he was begging for him to stop.

And then he wanted Chance to fuck him even harder.

This final realization proved to be too much. He didn’t have the reserves to fight back against the perverse desires overwhelming his beleaguered system. He sank to his knees and stared up at Chance’s long, fat, dripping cock and, closing his eyes, opened his mouth obediently.

There was a long pause before Chance broke into a fit of laughter. Tobias had expected nothing less from the big asshole and lowered his head in shame. When his laughter was joined by Thien’s, though, his chest tightened and his eyes flew open. Why was Thien laughing at him?

He looked up to witness the unthinkable: Thien had slung his arm over Chance’s shoulders and both jocks were laughing uncontrollably. Their laughter filled the tiny restroom, reverberating against the walls until it hurt Tobias’ eardrums. As painful as that was, though, knowing that Thien was laughing at him was even worse! Why had he ever thought that Thien was his friend? He hated himself for being so fucking stupid! He should have known that Thien wasn’t really gay and especially that he wasn’t interested in being with him. Tobias wilted, shoulders sagging. This was the ultimate betrayal and it hurt him to the core.

The two ROTC cadets laughed over him for a long time until Thien finally managed to catch his breath. “You think we should tell him, bro?”

Chance rubbed the tears out of his eyes, gasping, “Nah, I say we let him stew in his pussy juices for a while yet.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Thien protested. “I think he’s suffered enough. Let’s tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Tobias demanded, voice shaking with indignation. He hated being made fun of under the best of circumstances but when he was so vulnerable…well, let’s just say he wanted to kill both of his so-called buddies.

“We wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine,” Thien replied, walking over to pull him up by the elbows. Tobias wanted to resist but instead found himself letting the jock raise him to his feet. “How many times have we watched you behave exactly like Chance did tonight?” He didn’t wait for Tobias to answer before answering,“Too many, bro. Too many. We planned this whole thing.”

“Yep,” Chance agreed, acting suddenly much more sober. “True dat. Thien and me wanted to show ya what it’s like to be on the, ahem,” he paused to waggle his still-hard cock at him, “receiving end of yer bullying.”

Tobias stood there looking from Thien to Chance and back again, searching their faces for any hint of bullshit but both guys merely nodded. He took a deep breath and was opening his mouth to yell at them when it hit him: They weren’t joking; he really had behaved exactly like Chance on more than one occasion. On numerous occasions, in fact. He closed his mouth and dropped his gaze, studying his feet. The back of his neck was hot and he could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks.

“I…uh, I mean,” he stammered. “It’s not like I–”

Chance cut him off. “Whaddaya say, Thien? Should we show him how a real gentleman treats a lady?”

“Hey! I’m not a–!”

He never finished.

His voice was lost in his throat when he saw a hungry expression transform Thien’s handsome face into that of a ravenous wolf. He took a step backwards, nearly falling over when his big, wide bottom ran into the sink. Chance’s eyes lit up and soon he and Thien were advancing on him, pulling out their hot, throbbing organs. Tobias looked from one to the next, feeling his crotch flame incandescent in his pants. His underwear was soaked by this point and he looked down to see a spreading wet spot on the front of his (strangely flat) jeans.

“Here,” Thien was saying. “Lemme help you outta those things.”

Tobias watched helplessly as his roomie reached down to unbutton the fly of his jeans. Thien paused, inhaling with appreciation as he breathed, “Super fuckin’ hot panties, bro! I was hoping you’d wear ‘em tonight!”

“Hey!” Chance protested. “I’m the one who picked ‘em out!”

Tobias scarcely heard him; he was too busy staring down at the lacey pair of pink panties that mysteriously adorning his crotch. Where had they come from? He would never wear panties! Never!

Yet there was no denying the fact that he was wearing them now: The frilly waistband of the women’s undergarment was clearly visible beneath the overhang of his soft, hairy belly. His mouth fell open and he tried to swat Thien’s hands away but his buddy merely laughed and continued to work the jeans down his broadened hips and bigger thighs. Unable to look away from the humiliating trainwreck that now passed for his lower body, Tobias was forced to acknowledge yet another ugly truth: Beneath his soaking wet panties, he lacked any noticeable bulge.

But…how?

He had a big dick! (Well, Ok, it wasn’t as big as Chance’s monster but it was significant nonetheless.) His proud man should have been bulging out like crazy from the crotch of the hideous panties.

But there was nothing.

Was his dick crammed between his legs or…

“We were honored that you asked us to pick you up after your doctor’s appointment today,” Thien’s deep voice rumbled in the background.

“Yah, super thrilled,” Chance agreed. “And I picked out these cute, little panties to celebrate yer coming out.”

Huh? Tobias thought, mind blanking. Doctor’s appointment? Coming out? What are they talking about?

“I mean, you coulda told us years ago, bro,” Chance continued, “and we woulda understood. Being trans is nuthin’ to be ashamed of. Shit! Ashamed? It’s a fuckin’ badge of honor! I mean, what could be better than a guy with a pussy?”

Tobias felt like his friends were speaking another language. None of their words made any sense.

Oblivious of his inner turmoil, Chance drawled, “I mean, I hate to think what it musta been like for ya. I ‘spose ya musta felt like ya had to compensate by hitting on chicks…or maybe ya was just tryna throw us off yer trail. But, really, bro, we don’t think any less of ya. Yer just as much of a man as we are…even if ya do have a cunt between yer legs.”

“A c–?” Tobias’ mouth had gone dry. He was frozen, staring down at his crotch with a growing sense of foreboding. What the fuck was Chance saying? He didn’t have a–

“What did ya look like when ya were a girl?” Chance pressed, clearly enjoying Tobias’ discomfort. “I mean, did ya have big titties? And what was yer name before? Wait! Lemme guess. Was it ‘Tiffany’ or maybe ‘Tanya’?” When Tobias merely gaped up at him, he stepped forward and boldly lifted up his t-shirt, demanding, “C’mon, bro! Show us the scars from yer top surgery! We wanna see ‘em!”

Tobias tried to bat Chance’s hands away but his buddy had already worked the shirt far enough up his chest to reveal faint but undeniable scars curving beneath his pecs. He looked down at them in disbelief. Where the fuck had they come from?

“Chance! Hey, bro!” Thien shouted, shoving the big guy off of him. “You can drop the asshole routine, Ok? You’re not pretending to be Tobias anymore!”

Chance lowered his head, chagrined. “Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled. “It’s just, you know, kinda fun being a douche. I kinda get why ya like bein’ a bully so much, Tobias.”

Tobias barely heard him. Realizing his mouth was hanging open, he closed it with a snap. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and he felt feverish. He looked from Chance to Thien, uncomfortably aware of both how ridiculous and hot they looked with their hard cocks jutting out from their opened jeans. Seeing those pulsing cocks, though, reminded him of his strangely absent bulge and he lowered his eyes back down to his panty-clad crotch.

“Go on,” Thien urged softly, brown eyes glowing with the light of desire. “It’s Ok. Show us. Let us worship it.”

Tobias’ mind steadfastly refused to understand what Thien meant by ‘it’ but he nonetheless found his shaking hands drifting inexorably downward until his fingers were poised on the delicate string waistband of the panties. Both Thien and Chance leaned in closer, smiles broadening into wolfish grins. All three men stared in rapt attention, Tobias with rising dread and Thien and Chance with growing lust, as that tiny triangle of pink lace slid down centimeter by centimeter, revealing Tobias’ thick bush of brown-black pubes.

So far, so good, Tobias thought, shoulders relaxing. Those are a real man’s pubes!

He started to breathe a sigh of relief when the small but unmistakable head of his penis pushed outward, snagging momentarily on the waistband of the frilly underwear. Whew, he thought, it’s smaller but I still got a dick! This relief; however, proved to be short-lived when his ‘dick’ sprang into view a second later.

“Awesome!” Chance exclaimed. “Now’s that a man-sized clit!”

Tobias couldn’t speak or move or even think. All he could do is stare down at his once-proud cock and try to square it with the bizarre, shrunken nublet sticking out from between two of the hairiest, fleshiest cunt lips he’d ever seen. He finally had to look away when his gorge rose in his throat, threatening to spew Sapporo and the acidic remnants of his lunch all over the washroom. Closing his eyes didn’t help; the image of his transformed groin was seared into his mind and all he could think was, ‘My dick has been turned into a clit. My dick is now a fucking circumcised clit!’

***

He came to a few moments later, collapsed on his knees. When his eyelids fluttered open, he was staring up into Chance’s tender gaze. (He really is a handsome man, he thought dazedly. And so masculine!) His buddy smiled and squeezed his big arms around his chest. It took Tobias a while to realize that he was lying back on his friend’s lap and Chance’s huge cock was very erect and jutting against the small of his back. He moaned then as his body and mind were flooded with an unbelievably intense cascade of ever-increasing pleasure. He felt like his entire being with pulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy swept over him. 

Barely able to think, he looked down to see his panties pulled down around his knees and Thien going down on his crotch. His buddy’s tongue was executing an insanely arousing dance over every part of his gaping pussy. He had to shut his eyes again at the sight of himself down there but that didn’t stop the pleasure from building in intensity until he was rabid. When the orgasm came, it was the most intense experience of his life, radiating outward from his new pussy and overwhelming his nervous system. He cried out as tears streamed down his cheeks. In a far-off corner of his mind, he realized they were both tears of agony and rapture and somehow this made the denouement even more poignant.

“Awww, Tobias,” Chance breathed, lowering his lips to kiss him tenderly. “That’s just the beginning, bro. Thien an’ me are gonna blow yer mind. You got no idea what yer in for!”

That turned out to be no exaggeration. While it would be a stretch to say that Tobias learned to embrace his new pussy by the end of the evening, at least he didn’t despise it quite so much. Thien and Chance were exuberant and dedicated teachers, intent on showing him the superior level of fun a guy could experience with a pussy. While the desperate ache he felt at the loss of his big cock would never completely go away, he gradually was forced to admit having a cunt wasn’t all bad.

The guys took turns going down on him, leaving him in a quivering state of arousal that never seemed to diminish even after more than a dozen, mind-blowing orgasms. When he was on the verge of passing out, they carried him back to the karaoke party and proceeded to order beer after beer until he was roaring drunk. He quickly learned that alcohol was the only thing that distracted him from the gaping wound where his manhood had once been. Was he even a man now? He didn’t know but, as the beer took hold, he found he cared less and less.

Once he was thoroughly soused, he even recaptured some of his old bravado and let Chance talk him into closing out the evening with a duet on the stage. The two of them bellowed out the lyrics to ‘Islands in the Stream’ to the delighted roars of their fellow cadets. He good-naturedly sang the part of Dolly Parton, swinging his big hips and giggling when Chance responded with an exaggerated, macho swagger. When Chance yanked down Tobias’ jeans and exposed his (very wet) panties, thrusting his tumescent crotch against him while they sang, ‘We ride it together, ah ah! Makin’ love with each other, ah ah,’ Tobias threw his head back and laughed. 

He’d never felt more alive and more on fire. He gazed up into Chance’s deep, dark eyes and planted a wet kiss on his beautiful lips. When Thien joined them on the stage, he swept open his arms and welcomed his best bro into their embrace. The three of them danced like that until they were the only ones left in the room.

“C’mon, bro,” Chance said, lifting him gently off the stage. “Let’s get ya to bed.” He turned to Thien, who was already slinging his arm under Tobias’ armpit, asking, “You Ok with me sleeping over tonight?”

Thien grinned. “”Course I am! Wouldn’t have it any other way!”

Together, they carried Tobias out of the restaurant and back to the apartment where they helped him out of his clothes and into the shower. They took turns washing his body and generally fondling him until he was beside himself with arousal despite the fact it was past three o’clock in the morning. 

They laughed, though, when he begged, “Fuck my cunt! Pah-lease, fuck my hairy man-cunt!” His ears burned as soon as he said it, unable to believe he had heard himself asking such a thing.

“All in good time, my man!” Chance replied, reaching out to grab Tobias’ huge buttocks. “All in good time.” He paused to knead those giant, hairy cheeks appreciatively before continuing, “Me an’ Thien still have to figure out which one of us gets to pop yer cherry.” He stopped kneading long enough to fix Tobias with a stern gaze, demanding, “You are still a virgin, aren’t you?”

Tobias swallowed. He didn’t know whether he was more offended by the question or Chance’s chauvinistic attitude. He cursed loudly, though, when Chance’s face wrinkled into a sly grin and he laughed, “Kidding, bro! Just kidding!”

“Seriously, though,” Thien stepped in, “Which one of us do you wanna ride first?” He accented the question by reaching down to squeeze Tobias’ pussy. “We’d both fuck you at the same time if yer little kitty could take it.”

Tobias flushed. “I…I, I mean, I…” His voice trailed off. He just didn’t have the words anymore to express himself. This was all too crazy and new.

Thien saved him.

“Let’s see, Chance,” he said evenly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “I think I should go first ‘cuz my dick is smaller. We need to work him up to taking your monster.” When Chance opened his mouth to protest, he forestalled him by offering, “And last I checked, Tobias had two holes.”

Chance paused, mouth still hanging open. It was almost humorous watching the wheels turn slowly in his thick head. His eyes lit up, though, as the light of understanding finally dawned. “Whoa, bro! Yer right! I could fuck his hole while you fuck his pussy! That’d be totally fuckin’ awesome!”

Thien smiled. “Wouldn’t it, though? Can you tell I’ve been thinking about this?” He laughed before turning to Tobias and asking, “What do you think, bro? Are you up for getting fucked on both ends at the same time?”

In wordless answer, Tobias finished drying off and sauntered toward the door, looking over his shoulder and fixing both jocks with his most seductive ‘come hither’ look. He had to shake his big booty a few times before they tore their eyes off of it and noticed his expression. When they did, their loud whoops of delight woke the neighborhood.

***

“You are beautiful,” Thien whispered, lifting his head to fix Tobias with his soft, brown eyes. “I never want to pull out.”

Tobias purred, lifting his lips to meet his beloved roommate’s, and they kissed. Thien was deep inside him, teasing him with tiny thrusts against his newfound g-spot.

Behind him, Chance had long ago dispensed with subtlety and was ramming his huge tool into his butthole, driving it in deep and pulling back to ram it in again. He let loose a deep bellow with each thrust, something that Tobias found both endearing and incredibly sexy. He was actually glad that his butt and thighs were so big because they cushioned Chance’s blows and allowed him to savor Thien’s more delicate lovemaking. Take together, the extremes of his buddies’ fucking combined to send Tobias on a wild ride of pleasure that he’d never thought possible. He’d certainly never experienced anything like it when he had a dick!

Tobias had more than a half dozen orgasms before both Thien and Chance came inside him, spewing loads of their hot man juices and thereby claiming nooks and crannies of his innermost being as their property forever. He loved every second (and drop) of it! 

Only when Thien pulled back to stare at him with round eyes did he feel a little stab of worry. “What?” he breathed. “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered,” the handsome jock replied. “I forgot to wear a condom. Do you think I got you pregnant?”

***

Tobias arrived at football practice the next day, feeling out of sorts in his new body but also profoundly happy. Thien and Chance had walked him to practice, holding his hands and strutting across campus with such radiant pride that it melted Tobias’ heart. He felt so loved and taken care of! What more could a guy want?

Upon entering the locker room, he did a double take when he saw the quarterback, Ted Markell. Or at least he was pretty sure it was Ted. The dude had shrunk even smaller than Tobias and looked like he was barely fourteen! Tobais watched in shocked surprise as the cute, little guy detached himself from Logan Harris’ side and waved hello. Logan glanced down at him as he did so, patting him fondly on the head. Ted flushed and pressed back against the immense man, dropping his eyes uncertainly to the floor.

Whoa, Tobias thought. And I thought I got it bad!

Trent Davies was the last to arrive and Tobias noted with some satisfaction the scowl on his face when he saw Logan holding hands with Ted. (Tobias had never liked Trent.) It took him a while to realize that Trent’s presence made him uneasy and he pondered this while Coach Spinner went over the day’s practice plan with the team. He finally got it when Spinner asked Trent, Logan, Ted and Tobias, to stay back in the locker room for a minute: Trent Davies was to blame for this whole fucking shitshow. 

There was no other explanation. 

Trent must be the one responsible for Tobias’ new cunt, Ted’s diminutive size and Logan’s…well, whatever the fuck had transformed Logan into an oversexed he-man. It had all started when the dude went away to diversity camp and returned a fucking flaming fruitcake. Trent Davies had brought back some sort of contagion and infected the team!

He turned and glared at Trent while Spinner waited for the rest of the team to filter out of the locker room. For his part, Trent seemed unconcerned with Tobias’ palpable antipathy; he merely pursed his full, cherry-red lips and smiled sweetly back at him. Tobias flipped him off.

“I just wanted to congratulate all of you guys,” Spinner began when it was just the five of them left in the locker room. “I’m so proud of you!”

Tobias stared down at the floor, gritting his teeth. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and spat, “And why exactly is that, Coach?”

Spinner ignored his sarcastic tone and stood up straighter, clapping his hands together. “Why, because the four of you have helped the team achieve the diversity targets set by the university.”

Tobias’ eyes snapped up to the coach’s face. “Wait, what diversity targets?”

“Our team already had plenty of racial and economic diversity,” the coach explained as if what he was talking about was blatantly obvious, “but we lacked gender and sexual diversity. Now we don’t.”

Tobias froze, trying to decipher the meaning of this. Beside him, Trent folded his arms and shook his head while Logan and Ted merely continued to stand there staring adoringly at each other.

When no one spoke, Spinner looked from Tobias to Trent to Ted to Logan, stating, “We now have perfect representation: Trans, non-binary, gender-fluid and homosexual. The dean is gonna be so thrilled!”

***

Chapter 10

“Just stay like that,” Logan pleaded. “Lemme look at ya.”

Trent frowned, a not entirely unbecoming expression that set off their full, pouty lips and dreamy blue eyes. Logan watched, enraptured, as they opened their mouth, warning, “Logan…” For a moment, he worried that Trent would move away but they didn’t and instead remained where they were, kneeling nearly naked and beautiful beside the bubbling creek.

Logan and Trent had gone out for a late afternoon stroll along the river, a habit they had gotten into over the past few weeks. It had been Trent’s idea to start these walks together as a replacement for their previous afternoon ritual of tossing the football back and forth at the park. When Trent had first made the suggestion, Logan rolled his eyes but over time he’d grown to enjoy their walks, mostly because it gave him time alone with Trent. Between football practice, classes (which required far more mental effort than ever before) and his…ahem, extracurricular activities as a vers himbo…he barely had a moment to relax. These riverside strolls were his favorite time of the day.

Upon Logan’s urging that day, Trent had finally acquiesced and stripped out of their clothes. Now they were clad only in their panties, a revealing purple pair that showed off their ripe, full buttocks. Those soft, pillowy cheeks were on full display as they crouched down, hugging their knees and looking up at Logan with wide, uncertain eyes.

“Take off yer panties.”

Trent shook their head. “No! We’re in public!”

Logan looked around, shrugging. “I don’t see nobody. C’mon! Just do it!”

“Logan, what’s wrong with you? I’m not one of your tricks. We’re just friends!”

Logan ignored him. Fixated as he was by Trent’s booty, he was only dimly aware of the autumn beauty surrounding them. It was mid-September and the trees were just starting to be touched by color. The small creek beside which Trent knelt gurgled into the broader river nearby and was quickly subsumed into its slow and dark waters that wound silently around the rocks and tree limbs. Far off, the eerie calls of migrating sandhill cranes echoed. The sky above was crystalline blue and a cool breeze ruffled Trent’s sandy blond hair; it carried a hint of cooler weather. Michigan’s all too brief summer was rapidly coming to an end and Logan was intent on enjoying the last remnants.

And that included savoring Trent’s naked body.

He took a step forward, asking boldly, “What if we was more than that? More than friends, I mean.”

Trent swallowed and pushed themself upward, resting their elbows on their thighs. “You don’t mean that.” As Logan watched, they reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind their ear. The simple movement sent a shiver down Logan’s spine. Trent’s hair had grown so long that it now hung down over their forehead in the most beguiling manner.

They were so beautiful kneeling there, staring at him with those luminous blue eyes and arching their back in such a way as to draw maximum attention to those full, ripe buttocks. Logan repositioned his hardening cock in his shorts, realizing as he did so that it was threatening to burst out.

“I do mean it, Trent,” he grunted in a husky voice. “I want you more than anyone else.”

Trent seemed taken aback by this admission and knelt there blinking for a long time. Their lips parted as they struggled to find words. Finally, they shook themself and whispered, “Really? But what about Teddie? He seems really into you.”

Logan shook his head, taking another step forward. “Nah, he’s with Chance now.”

“Chance Reyes?” Trent queried. “That big ROTC brute? Tobias’ friend?”

“Yup. The same. He an’ Teddie’re joined at the hip, er, make that ‘butt’ these days.”

Trent smiled. “It kinda makes sense, I guess. Pussybois need a big man to look after them.”

“An’ so do sissy boys,” Logan pointed out, taking another step forward.

Those lovely blue eyes were on him again, searching his face as Trent drew their arms around their knees. “That’s true,” they finally admitted. “I guess I do want a big, strong man to love and take care of me. And I would be lying if I said I don’t find you very, er, I mean sort of…attractive.”

“Too late!” Logan crowed. “I heard ya say ‘very.’ I knew ya wanted me!”

Trent flushed and looked down at the rocks as they tried desperately to backpedal. “It’s your himbo pheromones, Logan, nothing more. You’re programmed to be attractive in every way. That doesn’t mean we should be together. We’re so different…” Their voice trailed off before they concluded, “And besides, you’re a huge slut. I can’t be with someone who’s constantly fooling around.”

“I’ll never fuck another guy again,” Logan promised, placing his hand over his chest, “if ya would only let me–”

“You can’t help yourself, Logan! You’re a himbo and himbos are slutty by definition. You can’t–” their voice broke off at the low growl coming from deep in Logan’s throat.

The next thing Trent knew, Logan had swept them up in his arms and was carrying them back along the river. Logan didn’t even stop to let them put their clothes on and carried them across campus slung over his shoulder. Trent’s big, bare, round bottom was on full display the entire way.

***

Back at the apartment, Logan laid Trent down on the canopied bed in their bedroom, drawing aside the pink coverlet and placing them lovingly atop the satin sheets. He paused to look down at his friend, the best damned bro a guy could ever want…and so pretty, too! Trent’s lips shone glossy red in the dim light and, as Logan stared, they parted, exposing perfectly white teeth. Their long lashes closed over those lambent eyes and Logan felt his heart twist with affection.

“I…want…you, Trent,” he breathed, leaning over them. He sniffed the air, relishing his buddy’s crisp, clean scent. “An’ I even think I, ya know, might even love ya.”

Trent smiled tentatively at this and Logan took this as a good sign. His poor cock was savagely hard and aching in his tiny mesh shorts and he repositioned it, moaning at the sight of Trent’s soft, fleshy body spread out before him. Somehow, those tiny purple panties only made them look more naked and alluring and Logan crept onto the bed, crouching like a panther ready to pounce. As Trent quivered beneath him, he lowered his face and took hold of the delicate string of the panties and pulled back, inching them down those pale, hairless pubes. He didn’t stop until their shriveled cocklet and empty ball sac were exposed. He emitted a low, lusty growl, finally giving into his animal instincts and ripping the lacy undergarment off and tossing it over his shoulder.

“Logan, wait–”

Too late. He’d already launched himself on that vestigial remnant of Trent’s manhood and commenced slurping and swishing and otherwise titillating his bro with his experienced himbo tongue. Trent writhed beneath his onslaught, throwing their head back and crying out with ecstasy. Logan took his time, gradually bringing them to the verge of hysteria before backing off and pushing Trent’s legs up and over their head. 

He spit into his hand and was in the process of slicking up Trent’s tight, pink rosebud when he stopped, realizing what he was seeing and what he was about to do.

This was Trent Davies.

His best bro.

His buddy.

Hero.

Role model.

Longest and closest friend.

Trent who had taught him how to be a man. Introduced him to hunting. Fly fishing. Off-roading.

And football.

Trent Davies.

The god.

This was Trent Davies’ asshole!

He was staring at Trent Davie’s hole! And he was about to fuck it!

Whoa.

His head started spinning as he surveyed the forbidden sight of his buddy’s tiny, virgin bud. It was so tender and pink. Untouched by a man’s cock.

A month ago he would have vomited.

A month ago Trent never would have let him near his asshole.

A month ago…

A month was a long time ago.

Everything had changed.

He had changed.

And Trent had changed even more.

He glanced up and met Trent’s eyes briefly, face twisting into a vulpine grin. Trent appeared both freaked out and breathless, their cheeks glowing rosy and lips curved in a small, shy smile. Logan couldn’t believe they were finally doing this! He’d been trying to get inside their panties for weeks now! He’d humped his pillow until it was soaked with cum every night for the past month, dreaming of Trent’s hole and dying to fuck it raw. But Trent hadn’t been into him. Or at least he hadn’t given any indication that they cared about Logan this way. Logan had assumed it was because Trent’s sex drive had disappeared along with their balls.

Apparently not.

Trent squirmed, arching their back and scooting toward Logan. Their huge, smooth butt cheeks parted even further and that tiny, pert hole pushed outward, winking invitingly at him.

Trent wanted him.

Bad.

Trent Davies wanted Logan inside them.

Now!

Something wet landed on his hand and he smirked when he realized he was drooling.  He gathered more spit in his mouth and leaned forward, aiming for his huge cock which had somehow worked its way out of the leg hole of his shorts. Soon, his big man was slippery and incredibly eager in his hands as he aimed it toward the quivering target.

“Ya sure ‘bout this, bro?”

The question was only half serious. He knew Trent wanted his fat lovestick buried inside them but he also wanted the satisfaction of hearing Trent beg for it.

“Yes, Logan! YES!”

Trent’s voice was high and frantic. Their blue eyes were on him, pleading with him, beseeching him to fuck them. Logan smirked, triumphant. He loved topping slutty little bitches but Trent was in a class all their own. He would relish defiling his bro. Stamping him indelibly, filling him with his seed, tearing open his little hole and leaving it gaping wide, loose, and wet. Trent Davies would never walk the same again once Logan was through fucking them. Trent would have the mincing gait of a true sissy boy for the rest of their life. Trent would–

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU BIG, DUMB HIMBO! FUCK ME!”

Logan grinned at Trent’s demanding attitude. It was super sexy when a little bottom bitch got frisky. Intent on taking his time and making Trent suffer, he teased a wet finger around the circumference of his bud’s tiny hole. Trent whimpered pathetically, pushing their butt against his finger. Logan’s breath caught in his chest as he felt that delicate, moist ring of boy flesh part. Heat, more moisture, such softness!

He was inside!

He was finally inside Trent’s hole!

He straightened, pushing his broad shoulders back, radiant with pride…and pushed his finger in further.

Trent arched their back and cried out, lips drawing together in an adorable pout. “L-L-L-Logan! Oh, Logan! I want you inside me, Logan! Drive your big cock into my sissy boy hole!”

“Yeah, that’s it, bro!” he urged, closing his eyes as he felt his cock blazing with lust. He couldn’t wait to work his bud’s hole up to taking the whole monster! “Call my name! Call me by my name! I’m yer daddy now! I’m yer–”

“LOGAN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

Logan jumped, startled at the change in Trent’s tone. Rather than begging, they sounded pissed and there was an edge of steel in it he hadn’t heard in a very long time. He opened his eyes to see Trent gaping up at him in horror. For a moment, neither moved but then his buddy scrambled back on the bed, lashing out with his feet and kicking Logan off of him.

“Trent, what–?”

Backed up against the pink headboard of the canopied bed, Trent’s chest was heaving. Their eyes held both rage and confusion as they clutched at the sheet, drawing it protectively around their middle. “Don’t touch me, asshole!” they shouted as Logan reached out to soothe them. “Don’t ever fuckin’ touch me again!”

“Trent,” Logan pleaded, perplexed by his bud’s abrupt change. He’d been so close to finally winning his epic battle for Trent’s hole that having the prize snatched away at the last moment left him both frustrated and hurt. “What’s wrong, bro? Let’s get back to it! I wanna fuck yer hole!”

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“But–”

Trent set their jaw, blue eyes fiery with rage. They opened their mouth to continue their indignant tirade but then blinked and shook themself, eyebrows drawing upward as they stared at Logan in surprise. It was almost as if they were seeing him for the first time. “What the fuck happened to you?” they demanded. “You look like a fuckin’ freak!” When their gaze dropped to the mammoth organ pulsing between his hulking thighs, they went pale and pressed even harder against the headboard.

Logan didn’t answer. He was too buy trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. When he made another attempt to reach out to his bro and was rejected again, he grew angry. “Whaddaya mean I’m a freak?” he shouted. “What ‘bout you? Yer an even bigger freak!”

“I am not a…” Trent’s voice trailed off as they caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror beside the bed. They froze and then let out an agonized cry, turning and taking in the full brunt of their appearance. If Logan hadn’t been so pissed, he might have been amused by Trent’s reaction. They sat there fish-mouthing, acting as if this were the first time they had seen themself since their visits to Dr. Nakamura’s office. They rubbed at their face, smearing their lipstick and gaping at the cherry-red smudges covering their hands. It wasn’t long before their attention was drawn to their narrow, sloping shoulders and soft, hairless body. With shaking hands, they lowered the sheet to reveal their rounded belly and widened hips. A low mewl escaped their lips. It gradually grew in volume and intensity, finally bursting out as a pathetic yowl when they pulled the sheet away and saw their dick.

Or, rather, what was left of their dick.

Reduced to a mere flap of skin over a shriveled, empty ball sac, it wasn’t a dick anymore.

Trent gaped at it, shaking with disbelief. Finally, they raised their head and yelled, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME???!!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO???”

Trent turned on him with surprising ferocity and Logan had to duck to avoid the fists flying in his direction. He recovered quickly, though, realizing he had nothing to fear from Trent in their present weakened state. “Whaddaya mean?” he growled, catching and holding Trent’s hands. “I didn’t do nuthin’ to ya! You did it all to yerself!”

Trent was having none of it. Shaking their head vehemently as they tried to break free of Logan’s hold, they spat, “I did NOT! There is no way I would ever do…do…do…” Their voice choked off before they managed to spit out, “THIS to myself. What did you do? Drug me? Hypnotize me? Sell my body for queer research?” For some reason, this accusation made Logan laugh, which was exactly the wrong thing to do at the moment. Trent’s eyes blazed and he yelled, “Stop laughing at me, you sick faggot! I can’t believe you did this! You fucking castrated me and turned me into a girl! I thought you were my bro, Logan. My bro!”

Logan sighed. “Trent, stop. I would never hurt ya. You know that.”

For a moment, Trent wavered but just when Logan thought he was getting through, they tumbled out of the bed and stormed out of the room, announcing, “I’m calling the police! Yer gonna go to prison for this, Logan! Yer a fuckin’ monster!”

Logan watched him go, bemused. He wondered what had happened to make Trent snap. In his mentally devolved state, it took him awhile to realize that this new Trent was behaving much like the old Trent, back when they identified as a hetero and used male pronouns. In other words, he was his old broey self. Mentally at least. Physically, however…

He was interrupted from this difficult mental effort by Trent’s reappearance at the doorway. He had apparently gone into Logan’s room and snagged a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt. The shorts were way too tight, drawing flat across his crotch, making his lack of equipment painfully obvious. The shirt was the opposite; too loose, it accentuated his diminished size and musculature. He was staring at his glittery pink iPhone with distaste, furiously pressing against the screen. Finally, he gave up and threw it on the floor before sinking down onto his haunches and holding his head in his hands. His whole body was shaking.

Logan watched him before getting up and stalking over to him. His poor cock was still rock hard and dripping copious pre but he forced his attention away from it. “Bro,” he murmured. “Hey, bro.” He took it as a good sign when Trent didn’t pull away and continued, “I’m sorry. I really am. But I swear I didn’t do this to ya. Ya gotta bah-lieve me!”

Trent didn’t reply. He just squatted there, cradling his head and bobbing back and forth.

“Listen, bro,” Logan said finally, a rare spark of an idea brightening his dim mind. “I think I can help. Juss wait here for me. I’ll be back soon!”

***

Trent had moved to the sofa when Logan returned to the apartment. He was sitting in the dark, looking wistfully out the balcony door toward the park across the street. Logan didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking. He’d done the same thing himself numerous times over the past few weeks: Trent was remembering the lazy afternoons when he and Logan would toss the football back and forth, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company. Back when life had been simple. Back when they were just a couple of bros on the football team.

“Here.”

Trent looked up as Logan held out his hand. His palm contained two pills, one red and the other blue.

“What’re those?”

“I got ‘em from yer doc,” Logan explained. “Remember Dr. Nakamura? He said the red pill will bring back yer ol’ body and ya won’t remember anything from the past month er so.”

Trent blinked, eyes flashing in the dim light. “And the blue one?”

“You will stay the way ya are now and you’ll ferget all ‘bout yer life before diversity camp. All yer memories will be replaced.” He paused before stating dramatically, “Forever.”

Trent lifted his head and looked him in the eye. “What ‘bout you? What’re you gonna do?”

“He gave me the same pills,” Logan revealed. “If ya take the red one, I’ll take the red one, too. We’re bros, Trent. You an’ me to the end, no matter what. If I can’t be yer man, I wanna be yer bro again.”

Trent smiled faintly at this before reaching for the red pill. He held it up to Logan before popping it in his mouth. “Let’s go back to the way we were, dude.”

***

“Wow.”

Trent was back! The old Trent was back! Logan stared at him in amazement, surprised by how quickly the pill worked. Trent was standing before him, leaning slightly back on his left leg and crossing his beefy arms, regarding Logan with the same cocky grin he remembered so well. His brown beard was full and thick, coating his face and running uninterrupted down to his chest. Thick brown fur spilled out of his tank top (Logan’s tank top) and his chest had filled out, regaining its former proud proportions. His waist and hips had narrowed and his legs, while still big, were now muscular and defined rather than soft and flabby. He had grown in height and now stood several inches taller. 

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked Logan up and down, rumbling, “Welcome back, bro.”

Logan was speechless. He was so carried away by Trent’s transformation that he barely registered his own. When he glanced over at the mirror, though, his jaw dropped. He was a linebacker again! He wasn’t a vers himbo anymore!

His face had grown more masculine, losing its impish boyishness, filling out and growing blockier. His brow was heavier and his dirty brown hair was back to its haphazard scruffiness, just like his beard. The rest of his body had responded similarly. Looking down at himself, he saw that his nipples no longer thrust outward like a pair of bullets and his generous belly was back. He’d filled out, regaining both fat and muscle around the middle and losing a lot of the fat around his ass. Anyone looking at him would recognize him for what he was: A big, beefy defensive lineman who could kick serious ass with the best of ‘em.

He grinned back at Trent, unable to resist throwing himself at his bro and catching him in a giant bear hug. They pressed together (crotches apart like real men), laughing heartily and clapping each other on the back.

“Shit, bro! It’s so fuckin’ awesome being back to my ol’ self!” Trent exclaimed, stepping back to playfully push down the brim of Logan’s ball cap. “Let’s celebrate! How ‘bout we go out and get us some pussy? I feel like I could fuck all night!”

Logan was about to exuberantly agree when his gaze happened to drop down to Trent’s crotch. The dude was still wearing Logan’s tiny pair of mesh shorts. They fit differently now that his waist had thinned but were still awfully tight, especially across the front due to maximal stretching from his thick, muscular thighs. Logan blinked, wishing vehemently that his eyes had deceived him, but Trent’s crotch was unchanged when he reopened them: Flat, flat, flat. Not even a hint of a bulge.

A quick glance down at his own crotch confirmed that it, too, was unchanged, although in the inverse of Trent’s. His bulge was just as humongous as ever! It pressed luridly outward from his shorts, leaving no doubt that he was still the proud owner of an incredibly long, fat schlong. He never thought he’d regret being so well endowed but right then he’d do anything to make it go away. The hulking behemoth filling his shorts only made Trent’s lack more obvious.

Logan sighed, heart falling as he belatedly remembered Dr. Nakamura’s warning: The red pill would mostly restore their bodies but there were some alterations it couldn’t erase. He kicked himself for not warning Trent before he popped the pill but then realized he’d been functioning with diminished intellect at the time. It had been hard enough figuring out how to find the doctor and articulate his wishes; he could be forgiven for forgetting a few details!

Noticing his hesitation, Trent pressed, “C’mon, dude! What’s wrong? Dontcha wanna get laid? I’m fuckin’ hornier than shit and yer my wingman. I need ya to help me catch some tail!”

Logan swallowed. “Uh, yeah, sure, I guess we could go out if ya wanna.”

Trent’s smile faded. “Logan? Bro? What’s wrong?”

Logan couldn’t meet Trent’s questing gaze. “I…I mean,” he stammered, hanging his head as he debated what to say. Finally, he decided that it would be better if he just got it out of the way. Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, “Look, Trent, I, ya know, mighta fergot to tell ya sumthin’.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Logan dropped his gaze to the floor. “Well, ya see, it’s kinda like this…”

***

When Logan staggered out of his bedroom the next morning, Trent was still seated on the sofa, holding a pillow over his chest and staring out the window. He looked like he hadn’t slept the entire night. Logan’s heart twisted. He couldn’t stand seeing his best bro like this! He wished for the thousandth time that he could do something to restore Trent’s dick to its former glory. He knew that, in Trent’s mind at least, he’d lost more than his cock and balls; he’d lost his identity as a straight man. Without his dick, he felt like his life had lost all meaning.

When Trent didn’t respond to his mumbled “G’mornin’,” Logan sighed. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it; he knew there was nothing he could say that would help. He sighed, shoulders slumping and heart heavy in his chest. Fuck! he thought. This fuckin’ sucks! I can’t stand it! Shoulders falling in defeat, he was heading into the bathroom to take a piss when he was struck by a sudden inspiration. He smiled slowly, realizing that he just might know how to help his bro. All he needed was a little time to get things ready…

***

He returned a few hours later to find that Trent was still sitting forlornly on the sofa. This time, though, Logan was prepared. He smiled confidently, urging, “C’mon, man. Let’s go.”

Trent looked up at him and scowled. “I’m not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere. Juss leave me the fuck alone.”

“Not the right answer, bro!” Logan replied brightly, striding forward and dragging Trent off the cushion. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Trent struggled to free himself but Logan was stronger and he soon found himself being hauled out of the apartment and down the steps to the parking lot. When they emerged from the building, there was no mistaking the sight of Logan’s pickup truck; it was loaded up with their camping gear. A pair of kayaks were mounted on the rack on top and a couple of ORVs were hitched to the trailer in back.

When Trent looked questioningly over at Logan, he explained, “Guy time, man. We need it bad. We’re heading to the U.P. for a bro vacation.”

“The U.P.?” Trent repeated, still trying to wrestle free of Logan’s grip. “But it’s the middle of the semester! What ‘bout football? And classes?”

Logan shrugged. “Already took care of it. Talked to the dean and he’s given us a free pass. This is more important than sports or classes. This is yer life, bro!”

Trent wavered but eventually gave in and allowed Logan to guide him back into the apartment where he got dressed in some of Logan’s pre-himbo clothes because he refused to wear anything from his sissy boy wardrobe. When he was ready, Logan looked him up and down with approval. He looked damned good in a flannel shirt with cut-off arms and an old pair of Levis.

“Hey! What’re those?” Trent demanded when Logan peeled the backing off a couple of square patches and patted them onto his arm.

“Testosterone patches,” Logan said. “Don’t make me explain why you need ‘em, bro.” When Trent swallowed and looked away, he urged, “All set. Let’s go!”

***

Trent sulked most of the way up north. He perked up slightly when they crossed the Mackinac Bridge, though, leaning out the passenger side window and looking down through the perforated steel of the roadway where the clear, blue water of the straits was visible far below. Logan thought he spotted a ghost of a smile on his friend’s face but it was gone a moment later when Trent closed the window and settled back against the seat cushion. He folded his arms and resumed scowling.

Logan stifled a sigh, reminding himself to be patient. While he knew that Trent’s masculine pride had suffered a massive blow as a result of losing his dick, he also longed for their friendship the way it had been. He couldn’t wait to be just a couple of hetero dudes, playing football, getting drunk and chasing chicks.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

It wasn’t until they stopped at the rest area on the other side of the bridge in St. Ignace, that he realized the red pill had failed to restore another critical part of himself: His heterosexuality. He was still gay as fuck.

The sight of Trent’s solid, muscular ass encased in his own Levis, combined with the knowledge his bro was also wearing a borrowed pair of his underwear–Trent had burned the panties filling his underwear drawer in the kitchen sink–made his cock go instantly rigid. He had to stop and adjust himself, thrusting his equipment down the leg of his canvas shorts. When he looked down and saw his bulbous cockhead peeking out through the leg hole, he flushed crimson and froze in his tracks.

“Whatsa matter, dude?” Trent asked, looking back over his shoulder. “I thought ya had to piss.”

“I do,” Logan choked, struggling to discreetly reposition his massive cock. “Go on, bro. I’ll be right behind ya.” When Trent shrugged and continued on his way (that big, beautiful, blocky, beefy ass swaying seductively behind him), Logan grimaced and lurched into motion.

Trent had disappeared inside a stall when he entered the restroom and Logan could hear him piddling like a little girl. For some reason, this only made him hornier and he had to stand at the urinal and wait for his erection to go down before he was able to pull out his hose and drain it into the basin.

A movement caught his eye and turned to see a lanky, young trucker take up position at the urinal beside him. The young dude looked over and nodded, flashing a quick smile. Logan grinned back at him, taking in the guy’s scruffy yet handsome face. He wore a tattered ball cap, a stained t-shirt and a ripped pair of jeans. His beard was patchy blond and his eyes were soft brown.

There was a period of silence with only the sound of their piss splashing against the porcelain while Logan became uncomfortably aware of his cock growing hard again. When the dude inhaled deeply and stiffened, turning to look Logan up and down appreciatively, his eyes going round at the sight of the monster between his legs, Logan knew that his himbo musk was still just as potent as ever. Yet one more thing the red pill left unchanged…

Behind them, Trent finished piddling and washed his hands before stalking out. The room was now empty and Logan was instantly, almost painfully erect. Time seemed to slow as he turned and found the trucker’s eyes glued to his organ. He smirked, wagging the beast proudly side to side. In wordless answer to this display, the dude turned and dropped his pants.

Logan goggled, learning a delightful thing about truckers: Sitting for hours on end meant they sported the biggest, softest asses imaginable. The combination of the dude’s lean, rangy body and that huge, pillowy ass made precum spurt out of his snake. When he looked up and saw an (extra large) condom wrapper clenched in the guy’s teeth, he lost it. Before he knew what he was doing, he had manhandled the eager, young stud into a corner stall and was fucking the shit out of him.

Afterward, they swapped phone numbers and the guy promised to call him the next time he was passing through East Lansing. Logan gave him a sloppy parting kiss and, stuffing his drained anaconda back in his shorts, swaggered out of the restroom. He felt like a whole new man. It was fucking great to be back to his himbo ways and he couldn’t stop grinning. He’d almost forgotten about Trent when he got back to the pickup.

“What the fuck were you doin’ in there?” Trent demanded. “I’ve been waiting for-ever!”

Logan flushed and looked down at the steering wheel, unable to admit the truth. Instead, he pretended to be indignant,  barking, “Shit, man! I had to take a dump! You know how long it takes me!”

Trent searched his face for a moment before buying the lie. “Yeah, sorry,” he sighed. “I fergot ‘bout yer bathroom habits, bro. Let’s get goin’. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

***

They pulled off on a two-track near Newberry when it was near dusk. Logan set up the tent while Trent built a small fire and pulled the cooler out of the truck. Soon, Logan could smell the delicious aroma of roasting bratwurst and his stomach growled with hunger. The evening was cool; autumn arrived early to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and the air was fragrant with tamarack, cedar and alder. He looked up and inhaled sharply at the sight of the stars glittering above. After so long in the lower part of the state, he’d forgotten how brilliant the night sky could be when there was no light pollution. He smiled, taking in the quiet and enjoying the simple pleasure of being alone outdoors again with his best bro.  He was surprised a moment later when a tear trickled down his cheek; he wiped at his face hurriedly when he noticed Trent watching him.

“Beer, bro?”

Logan accepted the proffered can of Budweiser, grateful that Trent didn’t ask him why he had teared up. The truth was that he was overcome with unfamiliar emotions that took awhile to sort out. He leaned against a tree, sipping his beer, and watched Trent prepare dinner while he pondered his feelings. For someone like Logan, introspection didn’t come easily and he nearly choked on his beer when he finally figured it out.

He loved Trent Davies.

There was no other explanation for the emotions welling up inside.

He loved Trent.

As remarkable as this revelation was, it wasn’t what stunned him. If his love for Trent could only have been traced back to the bizarre events of the past month, he would have written it off to being brainwashed.

But, no, he was uncomfortably aware that his love for Trent went back further than that.

Much further.

The more he thought about it, the more he understood that he’d always been in love with Trent. He had fallen headlong for the guy the first time he’d met him and, if he was brutally honest, had wanted to fuck him…or be fucked by him…ever since.

He was queer for Trent.

Fuck, it wasn’t just the Himbo Challenge; he really was queer!

Logan stood there numbly as the truth washed over him. He willed it to be otherwise but there was no denying the fact that he had always been hot for Trent! Sure, Seiji and Dr. Nakamura and the stupid Himbo Challenge had made him queerer but he’d been already been bisexual even before he listened to the first episode of that mind-bending himbo podcast. Or maybe he had just been Trent-sexual rather than completely bi? He didn’t know because Trent was the only guy he could be certain he’d wanted to fuck before the shenanigans of the past month.

He shook his head, feeling like the world was spinning around him. When he closed his eyes and reopened them, though, everything had become blessedly still.

And Trent Davies stood in the center.

Trent was the center of his world.

***

Now that he had admitted to himself how much he loved Trent, he couldn’t get enough of him. He sat across the campfire from his bro, grinning like a lovestruck schoolboy and drowning in those luminous blue eyes. It was full dark by then and a great horned owl hooted softly from the trees nearby as the little creek beside their campsite gurgled pleasantly. Both guys had drunk more than their share of beer and were feeling quite relaxed. The beer had worked wonders on Trent in particular and he was actually smiling for the first time since…well, since the events of the night before.

“Thank you, man.”

Logan had to shake himself to distract himself from his rock-hard cock. All he could think about was getting Trent naked and doing the most ridiculous things to him. Rather than launching himself across the fire and shredding his bro’s clothes off his hot, hard body, though, he smiled and asked, “For what?”

“For making me come up here,” Trent explained. “You were right. I really needed this.”

“That’s what bros are for,” Logan mumbled. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from reaching down and massaging his aching cock.

Trent was silent for a long time as he took another sip of beer and a bite from his brat. Finally, he stirred and fixed Logan with those incredibly gorgeous, pale blue eyes again. Logan felt his heart twist in his chest but somehow managed not to look away. God, he’s so fuckin’ hot! Logan thought. If he asked me, I would marry him. Right now. I would be his husband. But first I would fuck him dry! 

Trent held his gaze for so long that Logan was on the verge of drowning in his limpid eyes. Everything about the evening was perfect. Fuck, everything about Trent Davies was perfect! His baby blues, scruffy beard, unkempt blond hair, chiseled features, furry chest, manly scent…

Just when he thought that Trent was going to open up, though, his friend looked away and, standing, turned toward the tent. “I’m tired,” he said. “Goin’ to sleep.”

Logan watched him go with a pounding heart and a serious case of blue balls. He had to jack off three times before his erection finally went down and he was able to even think about sleep. When he entered the tent, Trent was curled up in his sleeping bag and pressed against the far wall as if he was trying to get as far away from him as possible.

***

Chapter 11

Trent’s demeanor had changed the next morning. Logan sat up on his elbows and sniffed the air, smiling when he detected the aroma of coffee. He struggled out of his sleeping bag to find Trent making a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon. His bro was squatting by the fire, concentrating so completely on cooking that he didn’t notice Logan’s scrutiny.

Dressed in another set of Logan’s clothes, he looked fresh and clean. His beard, while still thick, had been trimmed and his hair was still damp from a bath in the creek. It took Logan a while to realize what had changed about his bro because it was subtle but he finally got it. Trent Davies’ pride had returned. His jaw was set in a familiar, confident way and his gaze held focus and competency. His movements were deft, easy and capable, telegraphing certainty and maturity.

This was the Trent he remembered.

And loved.

Logan sighed, understanding yet another portion of his feelings for the guy: Trent made him feel secure and protected. When Trent was around, he knew all was right with the world and he felt confident of his place within it. A part of him that had been on edge for the past month finally relaxed and he exhaled, feeling his heart grow even bigger.

Trent was back!

“Yo, bro!” Trent called out when Logan emerged from the tent. “Hungry?”

Logan grinned. “Starvin’!”

“Good. It’s almost ready. Help yerself to some coffee.” When he looked up and winked at him, Logan’s knees went weak. God, could Trent get any sexier?!

***

Trent did not talk about the events of the past month. It was as if they had never happened. And he most certainly never mentioned his missing penis. It was a topic that Logan would have instinctively avoided anyway. (What could he say anyway? ‘Gee, dude, that really sucks about losing yer manhood. I can’t imagine how fucked up that must be?’ ) No, there was no way that Logan would bring it up. It was better this way. He was happy when Trent slipped back into his old persona so completely that, if Logan didn’t know any better, he would have sworn his buddy was exactly the same as always.

There was one exception, though.

Trent refused to let Logan see him naked and stalked off into the bushes when he had to pee. For his part, Logan became equally prudish, although he did this more to protect Trent’s pride than anything else. He didn’t want to do anything to remind Trent of what he was lacking between his legs and took pains to conceal his huge schlong from his bud’s gaze.

Gone were the days when they would skinny dip together and razz each other about the other’s insignificant manhood. No, that didn’t happen. They studiously avoided any mention of endowments or manhood. Those carefree days of casual nudity were over.

Like a couple of sexually-repressed, Catholic school boys, they became agonizingly discreet around each other. Logan made sure to bathe before dawn when it was still dark and he kept his boxers on at all times when Trent was around. He even took to cramming his giant organ between his legs in the effort to make it seem less obvious. It made life difficult but it was worth it; Trent became bolder and more confident with each passing day.

Their first destination was the Two-Hearted River near the southern shore of Lake Superior. Years earlier, Trent had discovered a section of the river that was perfect for fly fishing and it became an annual destination for the two friends. Reaching the right place was a bit of an ordeal, though, and required packing up their gear and kayaking upstream several miles. It was tough going but they were up to the challenge. 

There were few other people on the river when they put in and none at all when they arrived at their favorite bend with the small bluff that served as their traditional campsite. Trent hauled their gear up the bank while Logan paused to take in the quiet beauty of the place.

The Two-Hearted tended to be marshy and slow-moving in many places and its waters were usually stained dark with tannins. Here, though, it flowed faster. The bottom was gravelly and the water was clear and fresh. Perfect habitat for brook trout. He inhaled, savoring the scents of autumn. Overhead, the sky was clear and deep blue with small wisps of clouds. An osprey swooped down over the river nearby and caught a fish in its talons as he watched with startled surprise.

He became aware of his soul at times like these. It was such a rare event that it never failed to touch him. Usually, he would ignore the sensation, dismissing it as unmanly. But that time he allowed his heart to expand and gloried in the feelings of freedom and solitude spreading outward to encompass the river, the trees, the grasses, the wildlife…and Trent.

“Ready to fish, bro?”

He jumped, looking over to find Trent standing beside him and holding out a fishing pole. Logan took it, turning away before his bro spotted the tears glistening in his eyes. “‘Course, I am!” he muttered gruffly. “Let’s do it!”

Trent smiled. “Last one to catch a fish makes dinner!”

“Guess that’ll be you,” Logan growled, pushing Trent playfully toward the river.

***

“Jesus, bro!” Trent scolded after they’d been casting their lures for a half hour or so. “Where the fuck did you learn to fish? I taught ya better than that!” He set down his pole and waded over to Logan, taking up position behind him and prompting him to lift his arm. “Hold it like this,” he instructed, taking Logan’s hand in his own, “and flick yer wrist.” He took Logan’s hand and jerked it, sending the lure at the end of the line sailing across the rippling surface of the water. “There,” he stated. “Ya gotta be firm!”

“Are ya callin’ me limp-wristed?” Logan challenged, laughing. He sounded indignant but he was actually thrilled that Trent was touching him. He pretended to lose his balance in the water and fell back slightly, pressing into Trent’s firm body. Instinctively, his bro caught and steadied him. Was it Logan’s imagination or did he maintain contact a little longer than necessary? He didn’t waste time thinking about it because he was too busy enjoying his buddy’s rich, masculine scent and the soft puff of his exhalation against his neck. 

Trent chuckled, stepping away from him. When he patted him casually on the ass, though, Logan had to stifle a moan. His cock was instantly hard in his waders and he felt it flop down the leg of his shorts.

He looked over at his friend and grinned, noting for the first time that Trent was shirtless in his waders. His broad shoulders were tanned and his furry chest peeked over the edge of the rubber. Logan could just barely see his tiny, pert nipples. Even though he knew that Trent was wearing shorts under the waders, he nonetheless looked like he was naked. His cock grew even harder and he had to reach down to reposition it.

They fished for hours, catching and releasing most of the trout. Neither of them were big on conversation and, while Trent was abnormally talkative that day, Logan soon learned he was only interested in talking about two things: Football and women. His bro regaled him with stories of his sexual exploits, going into excruciating detail and, Logan suspected, exaggerating his prowess. When he talked about football, he was equally as inventive, bragging about how much he excelled at the game.

Logan wasn’t fooled.

He knew exactly what his friend was doing. And he played along. Even though he wanted badly to roll his eyes at points, he played the role of devoted friend and sidekick flawlessly. He loved Trent Davies and wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize his friend’s self-confidence. When he found himself growing tired of the dude’s relentless bragging, he just reminded himself of how good it felt to have the old Trent back.

This is not to say that it was easy for him. Being alone with the man he loved more than anyone and not being able to touch him or even express his desire was painful. He found himself staring longingly at his bro’s tight, firm body (especially that big, muscular butt that pressed alluringly outward against the rubber of the waders) and chewed his lip. His poor cock was leaking so prodigiously that he could feel the left boot of his waders filling with precum. His toes were sticky with it. By the time they stopped fishing for the evening, he was on the verge of insanity and escaped into the pine woods to beat off furiously.

He came four times in rapid succession before he was finally spent and trudged disconsolately back to the campsite to find Trent bathing naked in the river. Logan’s misery only increased at the sight of his beautiful bro in all his glory, so toned and hairy and perfect in every way. 

And completely neutered.

He ducked into the shadows of some nearby trees to study Trent’s body, eyeballs zeroing in on his crotch. He’d seen him naked back when Trent was non-binary but this was the first time since his body had reverted to that of a studly football jock.

His mouth fell open.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. The sight of his bro’s super hairy and yet completely empty crotch was extremely disorienting. His eyes kept trying to see what wasn’t there, refusing to believe that a guy could be reduced to a walking Ken Doll. 

But his eyes were not deceiving him.

There was nothing there, not even a remnant of a ball sac! 

The shriveled tag of skin that had been his once proud eleven-incher had disappeared completely into his pubic hair.

Trent was a true eunuch.

Logan had to swallow quickly to stop from drooling all over himself. He knew he shouldn’t stare but he couldn’t look away. He knew it was incredibly perverse to get off on his bro’s nullo state but he couldn’t help it. Trent as a eunuch was captivating. And totally hot. Fuck, he was even hotter than when he had a cock and balls! It made him feel dirty to admit it but Logan actually preferred his bro this way.

It got better.

When Trent turned and presented Logan with an unimpeded view of his gloriously blocky, muscular and furry ass, his cock came alive again and he pulled it out to resume jacking. He was on fire with lust and sank back onto his haunches, masturbating in rhythm to Trent’s ablutions.

He came just as Trent finished up and he had to clamp down on his tongue to stop from bawling out. His hugely bloated cock spasmed repeatedly between his hands, spewing more cum than he thought possible as Trent toweled dry and stepped into his clothes. Only when he was dressed and walking back to the campsite did Logan stir and begin mopping the cum off of himself.

This is gonna be a long trip, he thought, still panting from the exertion. I don’t know if I can handle it!

***

Over the next few days, Logan’s misery intensified. Trent was simultaneously the best friend a guy could want and a total prick tease. Logan knew he wasn’t tormenting him on purpose. No, it was clear that Trent was his same, old self: He was a straight guy and nothing else. He might no longer have a cock or balls but this didn’t mean his sexual orientation had changed. If Logan hadn’t been so worked up, he might have laughed at the irony that it was he who had been repulsed when Trent had come out to him after diversity camp…and now he was the gay one and Trent was straight. Why didn’t the red pill leave Trent gay like it did Logan? He shook his fist angrily several times during that week at Dr. Nakamura and his flaky medicine.

After fishing on the Two-Hearted for a few days, they kayaked back down river to the pickup and headed to the Porcupine Mountains on the western end of the peninsula. It was Trent’s idea to stay the night in a hotel in Marquette and sleep in a real bed.

“‘Sides, bro,” he admitted slyly, “I could stand to get laid. I’m horny as fuck after a week of nothing to look at but yer big, sorry ass.”

Logan bit off a sharp retort–Why did Trent have to rub it in? He knew he wasn’t attracted to him but he didn’t have to be an asshole about it!–and grunted his assent. He obediently changed course, driving over to Munising on the way to Marquette, the little college town on the coast of Lake Superior.

After they checked into their hotel, Trent spent an inordinate amount of time primping and preening in the bathroom, emerging after more than an hour to present himself for Logan’s inspection.

“Whaddaya think, dude?” he asked. “Your bro’s a total pussy magnet, right?”

Logan couldn’t answer at first. His throat was too dry. Finally, after opening and closing his mouth several times, he managed to croak, “Yeah, sure. That’s what ya are, alright.”

Trent was stunning. Filling out Logan’s clothes in ways he could only dream off, his bro was the epitome of a macho jock. He was also immaculately groomed. His thick, blond hair was slicked back and his beard was trimmed. He pushed out his shoulders and grinned as his huge pecs thrust proudly forward, straining the fabric of Logan’s best flannel shirt. His broad back tapered down to a reed-thin waist and his crotch…

Wait! What was that?

Logan’s eyes widened when he noticed a conspicuous bulge in Trent’s jeans.

Socks, he realized. He must’ve stuffed his underwear with socks!

Before he could comment, though, Trent had moved to the door, calling over his shoulder, “C’mon, bro! Let’s go get us some va-jay-jay!”

***

They headed to a taproom near the campus of Northern Michigan University. It was a favorite haunt of students and, in Trent’s estimation at least, the best place to pick up chicks. They pushed through the doors at dusk, just as the place was beginning to fill up. Trent guided Logan over to the bar where they claimed a couple stools offering the best view of the action. It was a Friday night and more young people were pouring in all the time. After ordering a couple of IPAs, they settled back to survey the prospects. 

For the first time in his life, Logan felt out of place at a bar like this. He was the lone gay guy among hordes of heterosexauls intent on hooking up. No, scratch that. It was worse: He was the lone gay guy with the man of his dreams who was intent on hooking up with a woman. It was torture! He slumped down on the stool and sipped his beer, scowling and studiously ignoring the glances cast in his direction by several beautiful babes.

Because he wasn’t there to pick anyone up (and because he was desperate for distraction), Logan looked around, taking in the ambience. Located in a renovated storefront, the bar had a rustic vibe with lots of exposed timber and antiques from Marquette’s logging past. Large, double-handled saws and taxidermied animals covered the walls. The staff wore uniforms that took this lumberjack theme and ran with it, flannel shirts, canvas pants and leather boots being the requisite apparel. Upbeat, indie rock music from a local band emanated from a nearby room. The music was periodically punctuated with whoops and cheers from the crowd and Logan smiled in spite of his dour mood. All in all, Trent could have dragged him to a worse place…

And speaking of Trent, his bro guzzled his beer down and ordered two more before Logan had taken two sips of his own. Wiping the back of his hand across his face, he bragged, “I’m gonna get lucky, I can feel it. See?” He jerked his head over to a table of three young women, two of whom were clearly ogling him. “The one in the middle with black hair? She’s mine.”

Logan lifted his eyebrows. “Ok, buddy. Go get ‘er.”

“I think I will,” Trent mumbled, raising his hand for another beer. He shotgunned that one, too, and stood up unsteadily, squaring his shoulders and staggering off toward the table of waiting ladies.

Logan watched him leave, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his iPhone and scrolled through Instagram for a while, trying not to be impatient. When his stomach growled, he ordered a burger and fries from the bar menu and contented himself with food to fill the longing for his bro. (I’m eating my feelings, he realized dimly and felt even worse.) He was about to text Trent to let him know he was heading back to the hotel when fate intervened.

The hair on the back of Logan’s neck stood up when he turned and he saw him: A beefy blond guy in the middle of a group of jocks. He stood out from everyone else because he was wearing a Michigan State University football jersey…and because he was incredibly handsome in an all-too-familiar sort of way. With pale blue eyes, slicked-back hair, a thick brown beard and a cocky swagger, he triggered a visceral recognition in Logan and he had to look behind him to be sure it wasn’t Trent. When he spotted his buddy leaning beerily against his chick target, he relaxed, marveling that Trent Davies had a doppelganger who attended Northern Michigan University.

And what a doppelganger he was!

Logan had trouble containing himself as he checked out the dude. He was just like Trent down to every detail. Logan’s cock came alive in his jeans and he shifted on his stool, warning himself not to get too excited. They were in a heterosexual establishment after all. And nothing about the dude indicated that he was gay.

Still, a boy could dream!

He kept looking over at the jock when he thought he wasn’t looking but his stomach gave a painful lurch when he looked back and saw the guy watching him. He turned quickly away but not before the dude elbowed one of his buddies and said something indecipherable. Shit, he thought frantically, he caught me checking him out! I’m such an idiot! He kicked himself for being so bold and prayed the dude would forget about him.

He froze in dread a moment later when he heard the unmistakable sound of a chair grating against the wood floor behind him. He stared down at the floor, feeling his neck grow hot, and almost choked when the tips of two boots came to a halt beside the legs of his stool.

The dude cleared his throat, asking, “You’re Logan Harris, aren’t you?”

Logan jerked. How the fuck did the guy know who he was? He looked up in surprise at the jock…and then was drowning in the depths of those beautiful blue eyes. Jesus Christ but the man was hot! He gaped like a fish before he managed to croak, “Uh, yeah. That’s me. How’d ya know?”

In wordless answer, the gorgeous young jock turned around and presented him with the back of his MSU football jersey. Logan goggled. The name across the shoulders read, “HARRIS,” and the number was seventeen. The dude was wearing his football jersey! Logan knew that people could order copies of the team jerseys but he’d never actually seen someone with his. The linebackers weren’t generally terribly well known. What were the odds?

As Logan’s mind grappled with this unexpected twist, the young dude turned back around and gushed, “OMG! I’m yer biggest fan! I can’t believe yer really here!” He paused to catch his breath before asking, “But whatcha doin’ up here if ya got a game tomorrow? Are ya injured or sumthin’?”

It took Logan a minute to recover enough for the question to penetrate. He was still trying to process the knowledge that not only did he have a devoted fan but also that the fan was so fucking hot. The fact that he looked almost exactly like Trent only made it more of a mind fuck.

Finally, he shook himself and stuttered, “Uh, n-n-no. Not injured. Just takin’ a break.” He nodded over at Trent, explaining, “Trent Davies and me are juss up here fer a small vacay.”

When the dude looked over blankly at Trent, Logan felt his ego take another boost. Clearly, this man had no idea who Trent was which meant that he really was a devoted fan. He couldn’t help grinning. He had a fan! Fuck, he had a fan!

“Dude,” the guy was saying as he glanced around the bar, “I don’t wanna intrude er anythin’ but would ya mind if I joined ya? I’m dying to talk to ya!”

Logan’s heart swelled in his chest. He was still unable to believe his good fortune and felt like he needed to pinch himself. “Pah-leez! Be my guest!” he said, pulling out a stool. “And what’s yer name, bro?”

“I’m Brent,” the jock said, sticking out his big hand as he sank gladly down next to him. “Brent Davis.”

Fuck, Logan thought, this is too fuckin’ weird! Trent Davies and Brent Davis. Fuck.

When Brent’s muscular shoulder pushed against his own, Logan had to resist the urge to jump on him and tear off his clothes right then and there. (He’s not gay, Logan! He’s just a fan! He loves football, not you!) Instead, he forced his attention away from his throbbing cock and struck up a lively conversation about football and life on the MSU team. Brent hung on every word, leaning in so close that Logan could smell his rich, masculine scent. (He even smelled like Trent!) When Logan cracked a rude joke, Brent’s full lips parted and then turned upward in an affectionate smile. He leaned in even closer.

And then…

And then…

Then he did the unthinkable.

Brent put his big, warm hand on Logan’s knee. The act seemed to surprise him as much as it did Logan. His eyes went wide and he searched Logan’s face, relaxing again when he saw that the touch was welcome. Clearly a smooth operator (another trait he shared with Trent), he didn’t waste any time pressing his advantage, nonchalantly squeezing Logan’s leg before leaving his hand possessively in place.

Logan’s voice trailed off and his eyebrows shot upward. Brent winked. And then the two men were sharing a poignant moment during which the sexual tension exploded between them. This was too much for Logan’s beleaguered cock and it came roaring out of his boxers and shot down the leg of his jeans, pushing Brent’s hand up and out. Logan’s cheeks flushed crimson at the look of startled surprise on Brent’s face.

Brent didn’t remove his hand, though.

Instead, he cradled his fingers around Logan’s pulsing monster and caressed it.

Logan’s eyes rolled back in his head as precum shot out of his ravenous beast.

Brent’s eyes flashed with the light victory and his lips moved closer, preparing for a much desired kiss.

He never made it.

Logan had already launched himself at him and was straddling his lap, moving Brent’s hands down onto his butt and covering his mouth with the hungriest, most passionate kiss ever. Brent recovered quickly and responded, hugging Logan against him and devouring his mouth with a burning lust that left both men on fire for more. Brent moved his big hands under Logan’s shirt and was preparing to tweak his nipples when someone cleared his throat.

“Jeezus,” the bartender drawled, “you boys need to get a room!” 

They looked up sheepishly, faces flushed pink with embarrassment and desire. Logan had a perfect view of Brent’s pals over his shoulder. They were staring at their friend’s gay antics with a mixture of shock and amusement. Logan looked down abashed but shivered with pleasure when Brent reached up to cup the back of his head tenderly.

Sliding a key and a package of condoms across the counter, the bartender explained, “The key is to the storeroom over there.” He jerked his head across the bar toward a door on the other side of the room. “Inside, there’s a cot with clean sheets. Go have fun. Just make sure you clean up after yer done.”

***

Brent took charge.

Taking Logan by the shoulders, he pushed him through the storeroom door. Once the door was closed (and locked), he threw himself on Logan, shredding his clothes and leaving him standing naked and breathless. He only came back to himself after he had stripped down to his boxers and his fingers were poised on the elastic waistband, ready to unleash the beast within.

“Fuck, I don’t know what came over me!” he said, lifting his hands away from his underwear and rubbing his temples. “I’ve never done anything like this before!”

Logan smiled sadly. He knew this was too good to be true! “Listen, it’s fine if you don’t wanna–”

“No!” Brent interrupted. “I do wanna! Man, I’ve dreamed of fucking you since I first saw you on TV! It’s yer ass, dude. Don’t take this the wrong way but it’s only good for one thing and that’s riding my big, hard cock.” Logan’s eyes widened; he’d never realized this about his ass! Brent flushed, continuing, “The problem is that, well, let’s just say I lack experience.” He hung his head, looking down at the floor.

“Yer a virgin?”

Brent shook his head. “No, I’ve had sex with plenty of girls. I’ve just never fucked a guy.”

Logan didn’t reply to this. Instead, he padded over and held out his arms. Brent glanced up and then melted into his embrace. They hugged each other for a long time, rubbing crotches (from the feel of things down there, Brent wasn’t exaggerating about his cock size!) and kissing. Brent’s loss of confidence was fleeting and soon he had regained his cocky self-assurance and took control once again, kneading Logan’s ass cheeks and gradually pushing him backward toward the cot.

The cot was exactly as the bartender described, wedged unglamously between shelves of cleaning products. Still, it was private and it was a bed; that was all they needed. Giving him one last, passionate kiss, Brent shoved him down upon it. The springs complained loudly under Logan’s ponderous bulk but it didn’t collapse. (He was a linebacker after all!) Logan looked up at him, feeling his cock spasm painfully when Brent yanked down his black boxers and his mammoth organ made its grand entrance.

Brent Davis did indeed rival Trent’s former size!

He was hung.

Very hung.

It was the first time Logan had been presented with a cock that big (it wasn’t as huge as his own but, then again, no man’s was) and he both desired it and was a little scared. He swallowed, watching that hulking beast waggle before his eyes, a rope of pre descending from the bulbous tip, and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. 

“Jesus.”

Logan looked up and met Brent’s gaze, flushing with pride and embarrassment as he saw the jock devouring his nude body with his eyes.

“Yer even more beautiful than I imagined,” Brent breathed, taking a step forward and jacking his giant erection. “I never wanna go back to chicks. Yer everything a man could ever want.”

Logan would have responded if he were able but he was overcome with incredibly potent feelings for Brent. He was breathtakingly handsome with the chiseled body of a go. His broad shoulders were replete with muscles and his chest bulged hairy and hulking before tapering down to an almost willowy waist. His slender hips only exaggerated the massive size of his organ. His circumcised cock was easily at least a foot long and fatter than Logan’s forearm. And then there were his thick, furry thighs, massive calves, and giant feet.

Logan’s cock spasmed and a jet of pre splattered over his face, waking him from his reverent worship of Brent Davis’ hot bod. “Listen, Brent,” he managed to choke, “we’d better, ya know, do this soon or I’m gonna shoot right here and now.”

Brent nodded, face breaking into a wolfish grin. “Get on yer hands and knees,” he ordered. “Prepare for the best goddamned fucking of yer life!”

He wasn’t exaggerating.

Even though Brent claimed to have never fucked a guy, he was pro at manhandling Logan. The quintessential lover, he started out slow and tender, titillating him with his tongue and fingers, gradually working him into a frenzy until he was begging for him to bury that huge, fat cock deep inside him.

Brent obliged.

But first he had Logan turn over and settle on his lap. Logan straddled him, clenching his torso between his powerful thighs. He lowered his mouth onto Brent’s just as Brent guided his dripping organ into his hole.

“Fuck, yer tighter than a pussy!”

Logan groaned, feeling that massive tool penetrate deep inside him. He saw stars when Brent thrust upward, pummeling his prostate. Using everything he had, he clenched around Brent’s masterpiece, making the jock wail with delight. And then they were fucking in earnest, Brent driving deeper and deeper while kissing Logan with his sweet, salty lips. He reached around and hugged Logan against him, trapping Logan’s cock between their hairy bellies and rubbing it with the friction of their bodies.

They came in tandem, bellowing like bulls and shooting loads of hot, musky cum. (They’d completely forgotten to use the condoms.) Logan’s hole filled up until it couldn’t hold any more. He smiled as he felt his own potent seed dripping down their chests and mingling with Brent’s trickling out of his butthole. Brent’s lips were quivering against his own and the beautiful jock was staring into his eyes with such affection, it brought tears to his eyes.

“I think I love you, bro.”

Brent flushed and looked away as soon as he said the words. Before he could walk them back, though, Logan shushed him. “I think I do, too.”

The expression of delight and amazement on Brent’s face was enough to make Logan’s heart ache and they kissed again, eventually working their way up to another bout of lovemaking that saw Logan taking and utterly destroying Brent’s cherry.

He was a vers himbo after all!

***

They cleaned up the best they could afterward, putting new sheets on the cot and scrubbing their drying cum off the floor, shelves and walls. Brent was reluctant to let Logan go, though, and held him on his lap, kissing his earlobe and murmuring softly in his ear. Logan lifted his head and laughed. He was so happy!

“Where’d ya learn to fuck like that?” he asked after he’d caught his breath. “You were fuckin’ on fire!”

Brent chuckled. “My brother told me that a real man treats every girl like a princess and leaves her begging like a slut.”

“Heh. My kinda man. Is he single?”

Brent swatted him on the bottom. “He’s straight, dude.”

“So were you an hour ago.”

“Good point,” Brent conceded, bouncing him up and down until his cock came alive again beneath him. “Guess I’ll have to keep my eye on you when you meet him.”

“Don’t worry,” Logan murmured, laying his head against Brent’s thick, muscular neck. “I’ll be good.”

“And a little bad, I hope!” Brent teased, lowering him onto the floor and surprising him with another drilling. Logan’s hole had never been so abused!

***

“I’m transferring to MSU next semester,” Brent revealed after he’d dressed, standing up and smoothing out his rumpled clothes. “I wanna be with you, man.”

Logan smiled, giving him a peck on cheek. “Me, too.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?” Logan asked, smiling broadening at the tone in Brent’s voice.

The beautiful jock–his new boyfriend!–dipped his head, cheeks flushing. “You let me fuck you in the MSU locker room wearing yer pads, cleats, cup and nuthin’ else.”

Logan guffawed. “I gotta introduce ya to a couple of my buds when ya move down there. I think you guys’ll hit it off.”

***

Trent was slouched on a stool at the bar when they emerged, drunk off his ass. Logan gave Brent a final farewell kiss before they exchanged numbers and Brent rejoined his friends (who were also drunk off their asses.)

“C’mon, bro,” he urged, slipping an arm under Trent’s shoulder and hoisting him off the stool. “Let’s get ya back to the hotel.”

“Ahm duh man,” Trent slurred in his ear as Logan guided him out the door. “Tha lay-dees all luvs mee.”

“That’s right, bro,” Logan agreed, hugging him slightly. “You are the man and the ladies do all loves you. Even some of the guys loves you, too.”

Trent snorted at this. “Yer silly, bro. Sooo sill-ee!”

“Yeah, I’m silly alright. And in love. It’s a good life.”

***

Chapter 12

Trent had a massive hangover the next morning. When he turned green at the mention of breakfast, Logan left him in the hotel room and met up with Brent and his bros at a nearby diner.

There, he scarfed down a hearty breakfast and watched the MSU/University of Michigan game on TV while enduring a lot of good-natured ribbing from Brent’s pals. He enjoyed it, though, not the least because Brent was cozied up next to him in the booth, big arm slung protectively over his shoulder. They enjoyed a quick fuck in the bathroom (with one of Brent’s friends standing guard at the door) and then Logan was off again to pick up Trent and head to the Porcupine Mountains. Brent and he teared a bit when they said their goodbyes but both guys knew it would only be a matter of weeks before they saw each other again.

“We won the game, bro!” Logan announced to Trent when he returned to the hotel room. “Those fuckin’ egghead Wolverines lost again!”

“Arrrrrgh.”

Logan smiled, reaching down to yank the sheet off his buddy. Trent was curled in a little ball at the foot of the bed, a vomit bag next to him. Logan sat down beside him and placed a hand on his forehead, murmuring, “Think ya can make it to the Porkies today, man?”

Trent groaned but then rallied, looking up at Logan with bloodshot eyes. “Sure, man. Let’s do it. Ya might have to stop so I can throw up, though.”

“Will do. C’mon, lemme help ya get dressed.”

***

Trent slept most of the way, huddled against the passenger door and moaning every time Logan hit a bump. As the day wore on, he gradually recovered and eventually sat up to look around. When they reached the town of Ontonagon not far from the entrance to Porcupine Mountains State Park, he told Logan to turn off onto a small dirt road.

“There’s a beach,” he explained. “On Lake Superior just a few miles up the road. I wanna go for a swim!”

“You wanna swim in Superior?” Logan repeated. “In September? It’s gonna be fuckin’ freezin’!”

Trent’s eyes narrowed and he turned toward him challengingly. “Oh, I’m sorry! Are ya scared yer lil’ dick’s gonna freeze off er sumthin’, bro?”

“Fuck you,” Logan huffed. “And it’s not little.”

“Alright, big man. Prove it then. I bet you don’t have the balls to swim in the lake with me!”

Even though he knew that Trent was baiting him, Logan bridled. He puffed up his chest, growling, “Yer on, bro! Yer on!”

***

Trent bolted out of the truck as soon as they parked. Logan shook his head as he watched him run, flapping his arms like a little boy, toward the sparkling waters of Lake Superior. Getting there had been difficult and more than ‘just a few miles.’ He had eventually needed to stop and switch the truck to four-wheel drive but they were finally rewarded with a wide, rocky beach free of people. The lake spread out before them in all of its wild grandeur. Logan was surprised to see that it was flat as glass, barely a ripple marring its placid surface. It was very rare for the big lake to be this calm.

He got out of the truck and took a leak, glancing hopefully at his phone. At some point during the journey, Brent had texted him a dick pic and he almost pissed all over himself in surprise and appreciation. What a massive schlong that guy had! Fuck, but he had hottest boyfriend in the whole world!

He beat off quickly before heading down to the beach, arriving just in time to watch Trent strip out of his clothes. His heart skipped a beat when his bro reached down and shucked off his underwear, turning and grinning impishly back at him.

Logan’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t believe Trent had actually revealed his empty crotch to him! He almost fainted the next moment when Trent brazenly dove headfirst into the water, emerging with a loud whoop and calling out, “See, bro? There’s one advantage to being a eunuch! I don’t got nuthin’ to freeze off!” He stood up, water dripping off his neutered pubes, and put his hands proudly on his hips. He was all but daring Logan to make fun of him.

This had a curious effect on Logan.

All thoughts of Brent evaporated from his mind and his feelings of love and affection for Trent returned with a vengeance. He felt his heart burst wide open at the same time his cock went ramrod straight in his shorts.

He dropped his hands to cover his erection but not before Trent spotted it. Eyes sparkling with mischief, he taunted, “C’mon, bro! Yer turn! Show me yer a real man!”

Logan’s face turned beet red and he staggered backward, nearly losing his balance on the rocky shore. “Listen, Trent,” he stammered. “I-I-I can’t–”

“Sure ya can. Take off yer clothes and dive in, Logan. Now.” Trent’s voice had an edge to it that made Logan jump and he instinctively began to strip out of his clothes. When he hesitated to remove his boxers, Trent commanded, “Yer underwear, too. Take everything off.”

Logan did.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his boxers down his big thighs and kicked them over onto the heap of his clothes on the nearby rocks. He closed his eyes as he dropped his hands away and let his massive erection fly free and proud in the cool air.

Silence.

When he opened his eyes, Trent had moved closer and was studying his cock intently. Logan found this disconcerting but his bro stopped him when he tried to cover himself. “Stop,” he ordered. “Come here.”

Logan obeyed, grimacing when his toes slid over the rocks and into the frigid water of the lake. He forced himself to keep moving, though, gradually wading in up to his knees and stopping before Trent.

The two of them were naked together for the first time since Trent had recovered his old body. 

Logan raised his hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun and looked Trent full in the face. It was a beautiful evening with low, scarlet clouds drifting on the northern horizon and a hint of winter’s cold in the gentle breeze. He was alone with Trent Davies, the man he loved more than anyone. He was naked. And aroused. His giant thrust out from his thighs, pointing directly at Trent’s empty crotch.

His buddy didn’t seem embarrassed by Logan’s arousal. Instead, he scrutinized his erection appraisingly, finally nodding to himself as if satisfied by what he was seeing. When he finally tore his gaze away from Logan’s hard cock, he smiled sadly, asking, “What did you do last night when I was trying to pick up chicks?”

Logan looked away. “You know what I did.”

Trent nodded. “Yeah, I do. Do you know how hard that was for me, Logan?” He took a step closer, demanding, “Do you?”

“Yes, I do,” Logan replied, lifting his eyes defiantly upward to meet his bro’s gaze.

He was startled to see Trent’s eyes were filled with aching despair. As he watched, his bro gritted his teeth and, taking his head in his hands, let out an agonizing scream that echoed down the shore. “I can’t do this!” he yelled. “I can’t fucking do this anymore!”

Logan didn’t care if Trent rebuffed him, he held out his arms and hugged him against his chest (while gingerly making sure his big, hard cock didn’t touch him…or drip pre on him.) “Do what, bro? What can’t you do?”

“Logan,” Trent sobbed, pressing his face into his furry pec, “I’m straight. I can’t give you what you want. I wish I could but I can’t! Fuck, you have no idea how awful it feels!”

“S’Ok, bro,” Logan soothed, holding him tighter. “S’Ok. I get it.”

“You think I haven’t seen you staring at me?”  Trent continued, voice cracking. “I know you want me and you gotta believe me when I say I’d do anything to make it happen. But I’m not into guys, Logan. I’m not into guys!”

“I know that, bro.”

“And the worst thing is I can’t have what I want, either! Not without a dick!” He looked down at his neutered crotch, grimacing. “What woman is gonna take me like this? Huh? What woman?”

Logan remained silent, stroking his bro’s long, thick hair and holding him close. When he lowered his lips and kissed the top of Trent’s head, he said, “I love you, Trent. I love you more than anything.”

Trent was quiet for a long time before Logan felt his body begin to shake. He held him tighter, rubbing his hands over his naked body and murmuring soothingly. Finally, his beautiful, neutered friend choked, “I know. I know, bro. I know.”

***

They drove to the Porcupine Mountains and just managed to make it to their campsite before dark. Neither said a word along the way. They didn’t need to. What was there to say?

Logan started the fire and cooked dinner while Trent set up the tent, eventually settling down next to him on the picnic table and popping open a beer. He handed it to Logan before grabbing one for himself. The two bros sat like that, staring into the fire for a long time. Finally, the corned beef hash was ready and they helped themselves, eating quietly and watching the shadows deepen. When a wolf called in the distance, they exchanged a look of wonder. Logan lifted his head and howled back, joined soon after by Trent’s deeper howl. The sky was replete with stars and the night embraced them like a long lost lover. When Trent leaned against him, Logan extended an arm over his shoulders, drawing him in. Trent didn’t move away.

***

“Logan, wake up.”

He stirred from a pleasant dream to find Trent sitting atop him in the tent. He pushed up on his elbows and stared at his friend in the dim light of a nearby lantern. Trent smiled, exposing something between his teeth.

“What is that?” Logan demanded, suddenly worried. Why was Trent acting so strange?

“It’s the blue pill, dude. I kept it.”

Logan sat bolt upright, shoving Trent off of him and struggling to grab the pill away. “Don’t do it, bro!” he yelled. “Don’t take it! Ya don’t know what’ll happen!”

Trent easily evaded capture and sat just outside of reach, taunting him by holding out the pill on the tip of his tongue. He plucked it away, though, long enough to say, “I don’t care. Whatever happens’ll be better than this! I tole ya I can’t take any more!”

Logan lunged but he was too late. Trent had already popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed.

***

“Do I look any different?”

Logan sighed, looking up from holding his head in his hands. “No. Not yet.”

“Shouldn’t it have worked already?”

“I don’t know!” Logan complained. “I don’t know anything about how those fuckin’ pills are ‘sposed work! They didn’t work right the first time so why should they this time?”

Trent smiled. He was naked and sitting cross legged before him, proudly displaying his vacant crotch. He looked fucking amazing and Logan would have been beside himself with lust at any other time but right then he was too upset to feel anything but dread.

Trent twitched, sitting up straighter. “Ooh! Ooh! I just felt something!”

“What?” Logan grumbled.

Trent ignored the question. His smile grew broader and soon he was positively glowing as he announced, “Yup, there’s no doubt ‘bout it! I’ve changed!”

“You look the same as before,” Logan muttered, wishing this had never happened. He was quickly reaching his limit.

“I feel different.”

“How so?”

Trent’s eyes glittered wickedly in flickering light. “Well,” he began slowly, lips curving into an evil grin. “For starters, I can’t wait to rip those ugly boxers off you and ride you like a stallion!”

Logan grimaced. He wasn’t in the mood for Trent’s teasing. Why couldn’t his bro just–?

He never finished the thought because Trent pounced on him and made good on his threat. He rode Logan’s monster cock until the wee hours of the morning, screaming like a horny little bitch in heat.

***

They woke late the next morning and ate a leisurely breakfast. Trent never moved away from Logan the whole time, standing so close they were almost always touching. It was as if now that he was gay again, he was afraid he would revert back and didn’t want to waste a moment in Logan’s company.

Logan gloried in his bro’s attention, loving everything about Trent even more than ever. It was hard for him to believe it was true, too, and that his bro’s heart (and beautiful, hefty butt) belonged to him. He’d longed for Trent with such a passion that he thought his poor heart would explode with happiness now that the impossible had finally come to pass.

As far as he could tell, only two things had changed about Trent after he popped the blue pill: He was no longer hetero and he finally embraced his eunuch-dom. Wait, embrace? That was an understatement! He fucking reveled in it! Logan had a hard time talking him into wearing clothes and Trent spent most of the morning naked and proudly displaying his empty crotch.

Not that Logan was complaining.

He made no secret of how much he desired his Ken Doll boyfriend. As far as he was concerned, Trent was the perfect man and he told him so frequently. Only when his cock was aching from being fiercely erect for so long did he talk Trent into getting dressed. He shucked his clothes again, though, at the first opportunity which was that afternoon when they were out hiking and happened upon a beautiful, reedy tarn in the midst of the forest. Trent waded naked into the sparkling water, calling out for Logan to join him.

“You know, I think maybe they were here the whole time,” he murmured when he was floating on his back, smiling as Logan stood over him in the shallow water, caressing his body. Logan was erect again, his huge cock positioned under the small of Trent’s back, helping to keep him afloat.

“They?” Logan repeated, reaching out to fondle his bro’s pubes, trying to find his little pee hole. Trent might not have a cock or balls anymore but he was still very sensitive down there and moaned softly as Logan massaged him. “Who’s they?”

“Nonbinary Trent.”

“Oh, yeah. I fergot ‘bout the pronoun thing.”

Trent’s full lips parted and he sighed with contentment at Logan’s probing touch. “It’s weird but I did hate my big cock. I don’t know why. I mean, the girls loved it! I never woulda had it removed when I was straight. But now that I’m gay again…”

“Yer my rooster.”

Trent laughed. “‘Cept I guess I’m a cock-a-doodle-don’t now.”

“No,” Logan said. “That’s not what I meant. Did ya know roosters don’t have penises?”

His bro cracked an eyelid and fixed him with a gimlet eye. “Lemme get this straight: Cocks are…cock-less?”

“Yeah, I heard it on an episode of Radiolab.” 

“Whoa, my big, dim bro listens to NPR?”

Logan colored. “I’m not dumb anymore. That was juss the Himbo brainwashin’!”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Trent drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm, “‘Cuz you were such an Einstein before…”

Logan pinched his little pee hole and Trent splashed him. “Are ya done makin’ fun of me?” he demanded, pinching harder until Trent whimpered. Logan relaxed his grip and waited a moment before continuing, “Anyway, ‘stead of a penis, a rooster has a cloaca. It’s like a hole er sumthin’. They just sorta rub their cloacas against the hens and that’s how they have sex.”

“Fascinating,” Trent breathed. “Now are ya gonna go down on me or what? My cloaca needs servicing!”

***

Epilogue

Logan and Tobias were there when Trent came out of surgery. They sat on either side of his hospital bed, waiting for him to wake. Both sat up hopefully when he let out a long, low moan, complaining, “Ugh, I feel like shit.”

“I know, bro,” Logan soothed. “But Dr. Nakamura sez ya did really well. He said you’ll be able to go home tonight.”

Trent opened his eyes and looked around, smiling when he saw Logan. He even seemed happy to see Tobias. The two jocks had never gotten along but they had warmed to each other over the past several months. It had been Tobias who had urged Trent to have the surgery, telling him that he would be happier after it was done. ‘The docs all say it’s easier to dig a hole than make a pole,’ he’d told him. ‘And I can vouch for the fact that havin’ a hole ain’t all bad.’

Pushing himself up on the pillows, Trent winced in pain before lying back down and closing his eyes. “So, it’s finally done. I can’t believe it! It feels weird down there.”

“Yup,” Tobias announced. “It’s official. Ya got a pussy!”

Trent grimaced. “Thanks, but we’re calling it a ‘cloaca,’ Tobias. I can’t quite bring myself to say I have a pussy.”

Tobias looked as if he was about to object but just then the door opened and Brent strode in, followed closely by Dr. Nakamura and Seiji.

“Doc sez ya gotta get up and walk around,” the big jock said, coming to stand next to Logan. When he put his big hand on Logan’s shoulder, Trent’s eyes narrowed. The two doppelgangers were still working out their feelings about each other and had settled into an uneasy detente. Logan suspected they never would be friends in the way that he wanted them to, though; they were too much alike! Still, he was happy to have both of them in his life.

“Yes, Mx. Davies,” Dr. Nakamura said, bowing slightly. “It is best if you walk now. It will aid your healing.”

Beside him, Seiji nodded, doing his best not to crack a rude joke. Instead, he approached the bed and, taking the controls, tilted the mattress slowly upward until Trent was sitting up. Logan helped him to swing his legs over the bed and Brent knelt down and slung his arm under Trent’s shoulders, urging him upward. After a few tense seconds, Trent was on his feet. His gown was too short and he looked pale and out of it but, in Logan’s eyes, he was still handsome as the devil. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that Trent was his boyfriend.

“Thanks, guys,” Trent murmured when he had his balance. He held out his foot for Logan to slip on a shoe. “My whole body feels off. This is gonna take some getting used to.”

“Indeed, it will,” Dr. Nakamura agreed, taking a step back and looking Trent up and down appraisingly. “But both procedures were a success. You will be fully healed in a week.”

“Wait,” Trent said, freezing in the midst of taking his first tentative steps. “Whaddaya mean both procedures? I only had one–” his voice broke off as he paused to wiggle his hips. Logan flushed when he looked up and fixed him with those piercing blue eyes, demanding, “Logan, why does my butt feel so big and heavy? What did you do?”

Logan dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Logan,” Trent repeated in his most forbidding tone. “What did Dr. Nakamura do to my ass while I was under?”

“The same thing he did to Logan’s ass,” Brent answered, reaching around to slap Logan’s greatly enhanced bottom. “Both of ya got the biggest, fattest asses now and I intend to fuck ‘em both til ya cry!”